#we need more ev blakely fic

[ktredshoes]

Close to a milestone

It seems I have achieved 49 followers, a figure I never thought I'd reach when I joined the beloved hellsite four years ago. One more to hit a half century! So how about this: once I hit 50 followers, I'll post another snippet from my Blakely WIP 'cause I thought I'd be done a week ago, but then I got another idea and it morphed into something bigger and I can't wait to share it but I think I've got at least another week, or maybe more, to wrap this up.

[therealslimshakespeare]

Seeing as I've read all your TWC and Dear John chapters what feels like a million times over, they're just THAT fucking good 😩 Do you have any fic recs for MOTA that stick in your mind, or any that you want to see more of?

Hello!!!! I love being asked about this. 💋 I’m so happy you’re enjoying these fics of mine, thank you for spreading the love!

I am admittedly rather behind in reading so when I caveat about not having finished something, it’s always with the intent of finishing and is no reflection on the scrumptiousness of the material. I’m such a stickler for settling down and enjoying a fic, gotta have everything all nice and cozy and right so I can fully dive in, and life’s been too hectic for that recently. But I have a few, and many more I’m looking forward to tasting.

💄Fave Egan one shot fic ever? Likely. The Major’s Wife by @stylespresleyhearted

💄 @steph-speaks utterly superb one shot of reader with Hambone Hamilton

💄 @ktredshoes is doing God’s work with Ev Blakely and Dougie, legit all of their stuff is gold imo

💄 recently devasted myself in the most happy manner by reading @swifty-fox ‘s Understanding in a Plane Crash …it’s got my husband John Brady in lead, what did you expect?!

💄every thing MotA related or not of @blurredcolour is a service to mankind and should be read when you wanna feel something. Shockingly, it’s not always angst, truly Bee has such a talent for conveying the gentler emotions of life with as much raw feeling as many who have to resort to torture porn. It’s an art

💄 @r-catsby ‘s Cleagan Basball Au… legit my comfort fic even tho that doesn’t bode well for my comfort. Need to catch up desperately

💄anyhting by my sweets babes @winniemaywebber @ginabaker1666 (they have an intertwined fic I believe?!!! how cool is that?) and @sagesolsticewrites writes is bound to spark joy in me

💄 @mercyedes Flak House fic really felt like i tripped the fuck out when reading and is practically gospel to me -you cannot convince me that we didn’t watch the episode containing that shit you just can’t. ILL TAKE TEN MORE

[bcolfanfic]

omg i’d love to hear more about jj and uncle rosie, that’s so cute that they’ve got a good bond

are you gonna beat me with a hammer if i make this a side b post. they're buddies in side a too i just have more musings on it in side b.

because yeah. they're pretty tight before everything goes to shit but something i *don't* plan on changing whenever i go back and edit/update the croz fic is rosie being at the house trying to help with the kids when she gets the call from a police officer that they found him.

so he's there on the worst night on the worst night of little jj's life </3 and those first few days right after. which certainly has a way of bonding a little boy to someone. poor thing is having his world turned upside down, and yeah understands more than his siblings do but is still *so* confused. rosie is a good, sad but stable safe place in all that confusion. sleeps on the floor in his room those first few nights and lets him sit in lap at the funeral and tells him his dad would be so so proud of him for being so brave.

jj likes ev plenty too but. does throw the occasional "we should have moved in with uncle rosie NOT you" ):< in his direction when he gets annoyed with him lmfao bless his little heart.

loves his family/finds a lot of security in growing up with the blakelys. but that house can get overwhelming at time with so many people in it and uncle rosie's is a nice quieter change of pace when he needs that. it's his go to "angsty teenager storming off" place when he's in that phase. and ev, helen or jeanie always text rosie and aiden to make sure someone's home when they have a feeling he might be on his way.

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

Chopped: Holiday Trope Exchange 2020 Masterlist!

A huge thanks to every person who signed up for our fic exchange, we got 21 really wonderful fics! We’re sorry it took us so long to get this out to you all! For anyone who isn’t sure what this was all about, this was a double blind gift exchange where each of our twenty-one (21!!!) writers were assigned four tropes from an anonymous recipient, and were tasked with writing a fic that fit our holiday theme, and included all the tropes. The only guidance from their recipient were a couple of brief notes they included during the sign up, and both the writer and recipient were revealed when we shared all the fics! A big thanks to the Tropesters who stepped up to write a second fic when we needed them! These fics, as with all our TROPED fics, were creative and unique, and found ways to utilise tropes that may seem so simple but were transformed in really spectacular ways! Please enjoy these wonderful holiday fics!

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roots in my dreamland (my house of stone, your ivy grows) (Rated M) [Bellarke]

Written by @captaindaddykru for @thelittlefanpire. The four assigned tropes were 1) Doppelgängers, 2) one character is a dancer, 3) first snow, and 4) kissing to keep a cover/a secret.

Summary: Clarke really wants it to work out with Bellamy, but as an A-list Hollywood actress there’s a lot of contractual obligations she can hide behind instead of confronting her own insecurities and past mistakes. Luckily, this Christmas she’s lucked out, and her stand-in Josie is more than willing to (completely selflessly of course) take her place.

Now comes the hard part.

brighter than moonbeams (Rated T) [Memori]

Written by @the-most-beautiful-broom for @thedefinitionofendgame. The four assigned tropes were 1) The characters play a game,2) Secret Santa, 3) Exes to Lovers, and 4) Surprise kiss.

Summary: Murphy and Emori fall in love fast, and then talk themselves out of it. Years later, their paths will cross again, and they realize that their might be parts of their story that are yet to be written.

What a way to start the year (Rated T) [Bellarke]

Written by @bellarkeshoe for @bellamysgriffin. The four assigned tropes were 1) Law enforcement partners, 2) Character gets BADLY injured and they hide it somehow only to reveal later that they are mortally wounded, 3) Characters hugging after they’ve been through hell, and 4) Kissing in the snow.

Summary: It’s New Years Eve, and Bellamy and Clarke got stuck working.

It’s Alright, It’s Okay (Rated M) [Clurphy]

Written by @sailawaymayday for @wwjacksparrowd. The four assigned tropes were 1) Found Family, 2) Groundhog Day/timeloop, 3) Character gets shot/stabbed/BADLY injured and hides the wound somehow, only to accidentally (someone else touches them and their bleeding, they collapse, etc.) reveal later that they are mortally wounded, and 4) Hurt/Comfort.

Summary: Clarke makes it onto the Ring with the rest of Spacekru. What happens when New Years Eve keeps repeating itself? And what does Murphy have to do with it?

Dancing in Graveyards: An Arkadia Anthology (Rated T) [Gen Fic]

Written by @justbecauseyoubelievesomething for @kinetic-elaboration. The four assigned tropes were 1) Small town gothic, 2) Christmas Lights, 3) First snow, and 4) Sneaking someone in/out of your window.

Summary: Three small town gothic stories intertwine as old friends reunite and try to make the best out of their lives. Raven returns home after her foster father’s death and is pulled like a magnet to her enigmatic highschool sweetheart. Jasper seeks solace from a tragedy and desperately attempts to outrun the ghosts of the past. Bellamy battles his inner demons and prays not to tear himself and his loved ones apart in the process. And all of them come to realize that they belong together, even if the place they call home is shadowed by sorrow.

do or die, you’ll never make me (because the world will never take my heart) (Rated T) [Bellarke]

Written by @shen-gong-oops for @probably-voldemort. The four assigned tropes were 1) Fake dating, 2) Amnesia AU, 3) Enemies to Friends to Lovers, and 4) Superhero AU.

Summary: As the youngest member of the Guard and the daughter of the Guard former leader, there are high expectations set for Clarke. The Marketing and PR teams at Ark expecting her to be prim and proper during any conferences, while simultaneously performing their well-rehearsed fight choreography to a T.

But when four unknown supes challenge the juggernaut that is Ark Industries, Clarke wonders if herodom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Merry Christmas, Lovebirds (Rated G) [Murven]

Written by @kinetic-elaboration for @shen-gong-oops. The four assigned tropes were 1) One character cautiously says “i’m going to kiss you now, okay?” or some variation of that, 2) Mutual pining, 3) A misunderstanding, and 4) Tattoos.

Summary: There’s never snow for Christmas on the beach, Murphy is a culinary genius, Raven has a boyfriend, and other presumed facts, too obvious to mention.

Once Upon Our Story (Rated G) [Bellarke]

Written by @andthelightbulbclicks for @bellamythology. The four assigned tropes were 1) break-up/make-up, 2) Did they or didn’t they, 3) Extremely biased flashbacks of the same event, and 4) Bookstore or library AU.

Summary: Bellamy returns with as much fanfare as one can imagine when driving a school bus decorated as Santa Claus through town, leaving Clarke shocked and all of their friends confused given he hasn’t been home in months.

(Or: Six months ago, Bellamy left Arkadia.

Six months ago, Clarke didn’t.

Six months ago, their friends knew the relationship ended, even came up with their own versions of what really happened. But the question that they all want to know for certain– is why?)

Dream A Little Dream of Me (Rated T) [Clurphy]

Written by @queenemori for @vmreed. The four assigned tropes were 1) One character has a child, 2) Protectiveness, 3) Only one bed, and 4) Soulmates.

Summary: It was just Murphy’s luck that right as he was starting to enjoy Earth, he had to leave. But he’d rather that than succumb to a fiery death wave. He and the other residents of the Ring remembered Clarke every year during their New Year’s Eve celebration. But even when they weren’t celebrating Clarke, Murphy couldn’t seem to get her off his mind. He wished his brain would stop playing tricks on him by making him think she was alive. Clarke was dead. Wasn’t she?

i don’t wanna burn out, so wont you please set me on fire again? (Rated M) [Murven]

Written by @kuklash for @sparklyfairymira. The four assigned tropes were 1) Protectiveness, 2) Exes and Lovers, 3) Small Town AU, and 4) Characters fall on each other and have a moment.

Summary: The wind nipped at Murphy’s nose as he stood in the doorway of the gas station on the edge of town. Work was slow, as it always was after sundown, especially in the mid-December cold, but someone had to make sure the good townsfolk of Arkadia could get their milk and gas after the small general store closed. All 800 of them. He watched the cars drive by throughout the day, recognizing each and everyone of them. Bellamy’s beat up truck he worked all highschool to afford, Clarke’s clean new sedan, even that jerk Finn’s loud ass motorcycle. He watched them all pass one by one, his old classmates returning home after another semester of college at the University of Polis. The only sign that time was passing at all.

The phone inside rang, breaking him out of his melancholy, at least for now.

“Great,” he thought, sarcastically. “A phone call 10 minutes before we close.”

He walked back inside and put on the most cheerful customer service voice he could muster.

“Dropship Gas, this is Murphy. How can I he-”

A familiar female voice cut him off, leaving him cold.

“Murphy? Thank god!”

It was his ex.

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you (Rated M) [Bellarke]

Written by @sparklyfairymira for @captaindaddykru. The four assigned tropes were 1) Celebrity AU, 2) Meet Ugly, 3) Characters must share something, and 4) Characters aren’t together but are mistaken to be.

Summary: Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin are household names thanks to their music. They belong to the same label so they often work together on duets—even though they can’t stand one another. Their first meeting is disastrous and six years later they still can’t get along.

toward brighter days (Rated T) [Sea Mechanic]

Written by @reggieshamster for @/ashplana. The four assigned tropes were 1) Apocalyptic Log, 2) bed sharing, 3) road trip au, and 4) mythical creatures.

Summary: Dear Harper,

I am ridiculously out of it this morning. Last night, when we reached the campsite, Luna suggested we give Echo her own bedroll, since she gave hers up the night before.

Which meant Luna was sleeping with me.

Beside me.

Excerpts from Raven’s journal as she travels to Polis for the Winter Solstice Festival

three words, two hearts, one maybe (Rated G) [Bellarke]

Written by @bellamysgriffin for @bellarkeshoe. The four assigned tropes were 1) Youtuber AU, 2) best friend’s sibling, 3) frikdreina, and 4) miscommunication.

Summary: After an accident blinds Clarke, Octavia’s been encouraging her best friend to keep up with her artwork. In order to inspire her, she recruits the help of her older brother, Bellamy, who’s recently launched a new exhibition at his museum, to feature her work. Bellamy likes Clarke’s work, and he’s more than happy to help. But when she doesn’t show on the big day, he takes matters into his own hands. With an old video camera, he records people’s reactions to Clarke’s artwork so that she’ll know just how talented she is. But when he sends it to his sister, he doesn’t expect her to upload it to YouTube. And he definitely doesn’t expect to go viral.

Something Beautiful, Simple, and Bright (Rated T) [Clurphy]

Written by @wwjacksparrowd for @queenemori. The four assigned tropes were 1) Friends with Benefits AU, 2) Prank war, 3) characters are not together but are mistaken for a couple, and 4) Based on a Song.

Summary: Six months after Wonkru and Eligius manage to establish peace and divide Eden between themselves (with a little slice shaved off for Spacekru, of course), Clarke has a mission: plan a New Year’s Eve party for fifteen hundred people within three weeks.

Murphy’s mission? Stop her from burning out in the process. Oh, and if he could just get Monty to quit it with the freaking noisemakers, that would be great, too.

(…Okay, yeah, he’d also like to date Clarke for real instead of just sleeping with her. But that’s a pipe dream, right?)

put your faith in the devil and the deep blue sea (Rated M) [Clurphy]

Written by @probably-voldemort for @kuklash. The four assigned tropes were 1) Time Loop AU, 2) Characters fall on top of one another and have a “moment”, 3) Enemies to Lovers, and 4) Superhero AU.

Summary: Twenty years ago, when the clocks changed from 11:59pm on December 31st, 1999, to 12:00am on January 1st, 2000, the world ended, exactly as the doomsdayers had predicted. Now, there are only a few livable months left on Earth, and the privileged are evacuating for a life in space, abandoning the planet.

But not everyone has given up.

Clarke was only three when the world ended, and she’s spent most of her life in her mother’s lab. Now, as the last space ships are preparing to leave, her mother’s machine is finally ready, and Clarke and her mother are heading back in time to try to stop the apocalypse from happening in the first place.

An attack on the lab leads to Clarke heading back to 1995 on her own, and the past isn’t quite how Clarke’s vague memories from the beginning of her life paint it. Clarke soon discovers that not only did the machine do more than just send her back in time, but she wasn’t, in fact, sent back alone.

Will she be able to stop the apocalypse before the clock strikes midnight? Or are some parts of history unchangeable?

All I Want For Christmas (Rated T) [Memori]

Written by @thedefinitionofendgame for @the-most-beautiful-broom. The four assigned tropes were 1) Fake dating, 2) Joke kiss turned real kiss, 3) One character is sleeping and the other character is watching them totally in love, and 4) Blanket fort.

Summary: Tired of being single, Murphy decides to take matters into his own hands and get himself a girlfriend before the annual Christmas Day dinner with his friends. Having had bad luck in the past with girls - all twenty four of them - Murphy is determined to make the twenty-fifth, the “Christmas Day” number, his forever.

Of course, this is easier said than done. When his fellow coworker, Emori, seems to be having similar problems and suggests them being each other’s “fake dates” to their Christmas parties in December, Murphy jumps at the chance. Fake dating is better than being totally alone, right? It appears that way, at least until Murphy starts to catch feelings; the ones that make you question everything you think you know. As their “fake feelings” start to become more real, Murphy realizes that Emori’s the one he wants for Christmas. But she’s got walls up and even though his heart doesn’t stand a chance, Murphy’s determined to break them down and show her what falling in love really means, maybe with the help of a little December magic thrown in.

As long as we’re together, no I can’t get much higher (Rated T) [Murven]

Written by @dylanobrienisbatman for @andthelightbulbclicks. The four assigned tropes were 1) Zookeeper AU, 2) Treasure Hunt, 3) secret places, and 4) Secret Santa.

Summary: Murphy has only known Raven for a little while, but the longer he spends getting to know her, the more he realises that there’s no hope of him not falling in love with her.

So when he gets her for Secret Santa, he makes it his mission to nail it.

before i knew you (Rated G) [Clexa]

Written by @dylanobrienisbatman for @sailawaymayday. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Pen Pals, (2) 3+1, 4+1, 5+1, etc., (3) surprise kiss, and (4) character meets another characters ex.

Summary: What do you do when your penpal, the person you know the best in the world, who you love, turns out to be the rather rude (if also rather pretty) sales girl from downstairs? Lexa is about to find out. or - 3 times lexa and clarke meet without knowing they’ve been penpals since childhood, and the 1 time Lexa figures it out.

when life gives you shit, you make kool-aid (Rated M) [Becho]

Written by @reggieshamster for @dylanobrienisbatman. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Bodyguard AU, (2) Bed Sharing, (3) Kissing to Keep Cover/a Secret, and (4) a Character gets shot/stabbed/badly injured and they collapse, being caught by their loved one.

Summary: Bellamy used to have it all, and then one screw-up cost him his career and his fancy life. Now, working as a bodyguard for alcoholic businessmen and their families, he gets a call from his sister for a job… escorting a hitwoman to testify against a man convicted of crimes against humanity. What could possibly go wrong?

and left the secret at the grave (Rated T) [Clurphy]

Written by @probably-voldemort for @justbecauseyoubelievesomething. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Murder Mystery, (2) Partners in Crime, (3) Exes to Lovers, and (4) Snowed In.

Summary: At 8:57 on the morning of December 23rd, eight year old Jordan Green discovered the body of Skybox Inn owner Vera Kane on the floor of the lobby. His screams woke up the other guests of the inn, as well as the live-in butler.

The discovery of the body was followed shortly by two more discoveries. The first was that the storm the night before had knocked out the phones and the internet, and the second was that the inn was completely snowed in with no hopes of escape anytime soon.

Thirteen people trapped in an inn.

Uncountable secrets.

One murderer.

One question.

Who killed Vera Kane?

what a tangled string of Christmas lights we weave (Rated T) [Linctavia]

Written by @thelittlefanpire for @reggieshamster. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Royalty AU, (2) Cyrano AU, (3) Characters fall and end up landing on top of each other and have a “moment”, and (4) Hair brushing and/or braiding.

Summary: When the royal family loses their beloved Prince Wells, the future king of Arkadia, all eyes are on them. The Queen remains as stoic as ever, the Spare grapples with his new responsibilities, the Princess drowns in her grief, and the King is threatening to abolish the monarchy forever.

At Christmastime, as tensions in the palace rise with the vicious tabloids outside, the royal family makes an escape to a castle in the mountains, hoping to find solace and reconcile with their loss.

Princess Octavia will try to mend her broken heart back together as she becomes entranced with the letters sent back and forth between herself and another. But when it’s revealed who the true penman is, will she rise above her sorrow or sink further into it?

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Take a read! Leave a kudos/comment! Our Tropesters worked so hard on creating some unique, festive fun fics from all the amazing tropes that were sent in. Thanks again!

[zwei-the-penguin-with-a-pen]

‘This Is Halloween’

Ruby had been working on her crazy super awesome Halloween costume for what seemed like ages, and she was finally nearly finished. She was going to wow everyone that walked into Coco's All Hallows Eve bash with this amazing getup. She had even gotten Weiss to agree to cosplay with her. Ruby's costume was a mecha from her most favorite anime, and Weiss was going to dress one of the characters that piloted the mech.

Weiss had too much hair to be Kamina, and not nearly enough attitude, but she could dye her hair red and dress as Yoko. Ruby couldn't wait to see her best girl in Yoko's outfit. Had Ruby ever seen that much of Weiss's skin?

Of course, they'd been dating for a few years now and living together for two. Ruby had seen all of Weiss's skin, but she still loved to look at it all the same. Waiting for this party had just about driven Ruby mad. The night was finally here. Ruby jumped into her Gurren costume and called for Weiss.

Her girlfriend looked nothing short of stunning with bright red hair, but she was in her usual attire. "Why aren't you dressed all the way, Snowdrop?" She asked nervously. Weiss blushed ten shades of red.

"I've got my Yoko top and shorts on under this, but I wanted to show you a different costume before we go to the party..." Weiss replied. This confused Ruby, so she ran up to Weiss and asked to hug her. Even if they'd been dating for ages, they still asked permission before hugs and kisses and such. Sure, Ruby grabbed a handful of Weiss without asking sometimes, and Weiss was known to do the same, but they always tried to practice boundaries. Consent is always vital, after all.

"What costume? Except for the red hair, you're just dressed like yourself..." Ruby noticed a huge diamond ring on Weiss's finger. "Ooh, that's pretty!"

"Isn't it? It belonged to my grandmother..." Weiss replied before blushing even harder. "The ring is actually part of the costume!" She cheered. Ruby found herself even more confused at that.

"You're dressed as my cute girlfriend who really knows how to accessorize?" Ruby queried. Weiss couldn't help but laugh. A year ago that question would have made her facepalm or fall over. This was a little more serious, however.

"No, Petals... I'm dressed as... your wife!" Weiss stumbled through the words as she produced a tiny box. The box popped open to reveal a platinum band with a monumental ruby atop it.

Ruby turned twenty shades of red at that. "My... wife?" She thought her voice might crack at the words. Weiss grinned and took to one knee.

"Yes, Ruby. I never imagined asking you this while you were dressed as a robot, or while I was dressed as a nigh naked anime girl with a huge gun, but here we are." She took Ruby's hand and slid the gigantic diamond off of her finger and onto Ruby's, slipping the ruby onto her own.

"Aww, so we have each other's colors! Weiss, that's gay!" Ruby blurted, blushing even redder. "I mean, great!!" She tried to save, but Weiss was already laughing her pretty red head off. Ruby thought Weiss looked glorious with red hair, but she loved her girlfriend's long white ponytail even more.

"It's pretty gay if I do say so myself! Now, don't you have an answer for me? Or perhaps you like to see me on my knees?" Weiss nicked. Ruby blushed so redly she thought her nose would bleed. She collected herself and looked Weiss directly in the eyes.

"Yes, Miss Schnee, I will make you my wife...u" Weiss fell over at that. "Ha, I've still got it!"

"Wife, waifu, what's the difference?"

"Well, Crescent Rose is my waifu, but she gets a little stabby when I try to cuddle her." Weiss fell over again, even though she'd barely gotten off the ground from the first time. Once she was to her feet, she tore off the outer part of her costume to reveal her Yoko getup. Ruby would definitely have a nosebleed at that. She felt almost like Kamina seeing Yoko for the first time; she couldn't keep her eyes off of Weiss's curves.

She scooped Weiss into her arms, making sure the bits of robot jutting out of them didn't make her future wife uncomfortable. "I love you so much, Weiss. To the moon and back.:

"But the moon is a Gunmen!" Weiss replied. Ruby wanted to throw Weiss into their bed at that, but they had a party to dazzle. Plus having sexy time in this costume she'd spent weeks perfecting didn't seem like a fantastic idea. "I love you too, Ruby. Happy birthday! So, do you mind if I grab myself a handful of your... ro-butt?" Ruby laughed herself into a fit, or at least she would have if Weiss hadn't kissed her and groped her behind.

Weiss's soft lips were always warm, even if her hand were always cold. The two future wives kissed and groped for a long moment before they set out to show out at Coco's bash. Ruby hoped Fox had made his famous Pumpkin Splice punch. It was always delicious.

"ROW! ROW! FIGHT THE POWER!!!" Blake yelled when she saw Ruby and Weiss enter the party. The catgirl was dressed up as Maru from Stardew Valley, sporting denim coveralls, and a purple sweater. Her short bob of hair was dyed brown to match. If not for her cat ears, Blake would look as though she walked right out of the game.

"Hey, sis!" Yang called as she walked over. Keeping the same theme as Blake, Yang dressed as her favorite Stardew character, Abigail. Yang's usually golden locks were dyed amethyst and she wore a black tunic with matching pants and a grey vest along with black strapped boots.

"Yang, I need to talk to you when you have time and we can find someplace quiet," Ruby told her sister, showing her the huge ring on her finger. Yang beamed so brightly the lighting in the room seemed dim next to her. The two couples scooped up some Pumpkin Splice punch and joined the partygoers. Coco's Halloween Bash was always a roaring success.

\/\/\/\/\/

\/\/\/\/\/

\/\/\/\/\/

A little White Rose Halloween since it’s Ruby’s birthday.

I thought of this today, late as always, but it’s even later because work called me in. Anyway. I hope you liked this fic!

[love-a-little-less-archived]

pause to ponder the miracles

a holiday secret santa gift for @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis​

“Is me not liking you a problem, Princess?”

Clarke shrugged. “It could be.”

“Why?”

“Because I was planning on inviting your sister to come up with me for Christmas, and thought maybe, if you weren’t an ass about it, I’d invite you, too." Bellamy opened his mouth to say something but Clarke barrelled on. "So are you going to continue to hate me or can we get along? Because I know O wouldn’t want to leave you here alone for Christmas.”

Bellamy pursed his lips. “Yeah. Okay. We can get along.”

Modern AU where Bellamy hasn’t truly celebrated Christmas in years, and with the help of his sister’s university roommate, maybe this year can be different.

Rated teen+ for language

[ read on ao3 ]

-

So!! I don’t think anyone else has posted their fics for this event yet but I figured I had it done, might as well be the first. So a little backstory on this fic: I had originally planned out something entirely different. I was trying to stay in canon-verse but honestly I was having enough trouble with the holiday theme anyway so I gave it up and moved it to modern-verse. And the first couple things I drafted up I tried to make more focused on the group rather than one person but that also didn't work very well so I decided Bellamy might be a good pick for you. And as much as I tried to not make it romantic I- kind of failed. As you’ll see.

Anyway!! I hope this is holiday-themed enough for you!! I’m actually considering maybe writing a second chapter to this because I did really enjoy typing this out, but that’s iffy.

Merry christmas, dear!! I hope you like it ♥

@johnmurphyisqueer​

( I’ll post the whole thing below the cut, but formatting is probably better on ao3 )

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“Christmas is like softly-falling snow that covers the world in a blanket of white so flawless and brilliant as to make us pause to ponder the miracle.”

― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold

Bellamy had never had much of a Christmas.

Before Aurora had passed, they’d bake cookies and buy gifts and string lights on the walls, but after, it had mostly stopped. Bellamy was too focused on providing for himself and his sister to worry much about holidays. Sure, he’d buy Octavia a few small gifts, sometimes they’d go walk around neighborhoods and look at the fancy light shows some houses boasted, but it was never anything big for them.

This year was different.

It started like this: Octavia had just begun her first year at university, courtesy of years of saving up for it, and when November rolled around, Octavia came home to him for a few days. She brought a friend. Clarke Griffin, her roommate, who looked like she’d never struggled for a day in her life. Bellamy immediately disliked her. But for Octavia’s sake, he tried to mask it.

“So, Clarke,” he started, the three of them lounging in the living room, Octavia and Clarke with a bag of chips between them. “What brings you down here?”

She shrugged. “My hometown is more than a few hours drive from campus, didn’t feel like making the effort. Octavia invited me along when she figured out I wasn’t going anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t feel like going to see your family?”

“Nah. The only reason I’d want to go down would be to see my old friends, and not all of them would even be around. My mom and I don’t have the best relationship.” Clarke scrunched her nose. “ And I’d already told her I’d come see her for Christmas, so no reason to make the drive.”

Bellamy huffed. Clarke raised her eyebrows. “Something funny?”

Octavia was glaring at him, so he just settled back. “Nope. All good, Princess.”

Clarke didn’t seem to believe him. Octavia stood up, tugging Clarke with her. “Come on babe, why don’t we go hang out on our own?”

Clarke and Bellamy avoided each other for the rest of the day. And the day after that.

It didn’t last.

It was early, early enough that Bellamy expected to be gone for work by the time the girls got up. But then Clarke strode into the kitchen and rested her hands on the counter, hard eyes locked onto him. “Why do you hate me?”

And Bellamy, not at all prepared for that, just stared at her for a few moments. “What?”

“You heard me. What’s your problem with me?”

He turned around, taking a sip of his coffee. “I don’t know what you mean.”

She growled. He heard her shuffling around, and suddenly she was right in his face. Bellamy jerked back, almost spilling his coffee. So maybe he didn’t like her, but her glare was downright terrifying.

Bellamy clenched his jaw. “Is me not liking you a problem, Princess?”

She shrugged. “It could be.”

“Why?”

“Because I was planning on inviting your sister to come up with me for Christmas, and thought maybe, if you weren’t an ass about it, I’d invite you too.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? Why?”

Clarke sighed. “Because I like your sister, and I know she’s never had much of a real Christmas. And because I’m nice, I was going to invite you so you could not be a sad person who spends Christmas alone.”

The only thing he could say to that was “oh.”

Clarke didn’t seem bothered by it. “So are you going to continue to hate me or can we get along? Because I know O wouldn’t want to leave you here alone for Christmas.”

Bellamy pursed his lips. “Yeah. Okay. We can get along.”

Clarke grinned. “Great! I’ll bring it up to Octavia later today. Now tell me if you have anything other than that straight black coffee you’re drinking-”

And despite himself, Bellamy could tell she was already growing on him.

︵‿︵‿୨✼୧‿︵‿︵

Though Bellamy offered to make the drive alone, Clarke insisted that she come and pick him up. Said it wasn’t too much of a detour. He knew it was easier to just agree. There was no arguing with Clarke.

And so that was how Bellamy found himself draped over the backseat of Clarke’s car, the two girls chatting enthusiastically in the front seats.

“Bell, are you excited?” Octavia asked, turning around. “We’re going to have a real Christmas! With a tree and presents and lights and cookies!”

Honestly, he was more nervous than excited. He wouldn’t know anyone there other than Octavia and Clarke, and the latter he still didn’t know very well. But he let Octavia’s joy seep into him, smiling back at her. “I am.” And because he was far too polite, he addressed Clarke too. “And thank you, Clarke, for inviting us.”

She waved him off. “Oh, it’s helping me too, don’t worry. Hopefully it’ll get my mom off my back about how I need to expand my social circle now that I’m in uni. She’s been bugging me about it forever.”

He hummed. “What year are you?”

“Sophomore. Majoring in creative arts, minoring in a couple medical classes. Mostly because of my mother.”

He raised an eyebrow, though she couldn’t see. “Sounds controlling.”

“Ugh. Very.” Clarke clenched the steering wheel tightly. “She was so angry when I said I was majoring in the arts. Said it wasn’t a career that would get me very far in life. She’s always wanted me to be a doctor like her.”

He chuckled. “You don’t strike me as very doctor-esque.”

“Oh, she’s better than you’d think,” Octavia butted in. “I got sick for a few days in the first weeks, and Clarkey here had it down. I barely even had to do anything.”

Clarke shrugged. “Not a bad skill to have.”

“I probably would have died without you.”

“It was a stomach bug, O.”

“Still!”

And suddenly he wasn’t as worried about the trip as he was before. Not if it was going to be like this.

︵‿︵‿୨✼୧‿︵‿︵

Abby Griffin was a very intense woman.

She and Clarke exchanged quick hellos, Abby going to hug her daughter, but even Bellamy could tell it was awkward. When she addressed him and Octavia, it was very stiff, professional, and Bellamy could see why she and Clarke didn’t get along. The two women were opposite personalities, sharing the same stubborn streak that likely played a big part in their strained relationship.

Another thing he noticed that was very opposite to Clarke was the house. From what he knew of Clarke, she was not a very organized person. Her car was a bit of a mess, a lot of her clothes were stained with paints, and she didn’t put much effort into her appearance. Abby’s house was huge and pristine, everything sparkling clean, the house itself matching Abby’s intenseness. 

The woman sat them on the couch and went to get them drinks. Bellamy looked around the huge living room. “This where you grew up?”

Clarke shuddered. “God, no. My mom moved in after my dad… died. He never wanted anything big or fancy. I lived here for about two years before moving out. Though honestly I tried to spend as much time out of the house as I could. It’s almost too much.”

Octavia leaned closer, keeping her voice low. “You didn’t tell me your mom was rich!”

“She’s a world-class surgeon, I thought that was a given.”

“I didn’t expect this!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Clarke shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on spending much time here anyway. We’ll probably spend Christmas day here, but the real fun will be on Christmas Eve. One of my high school friends is a master at throwing parties. You’ll have the time of your life, trust me.”

Neither Blake could reply as Abby walked back in with drinks for each of them. Bellamy wasn’t sure what it was, but it tasted fancier than anything he’d ever had. 

“So.” Abby sat down on one of the plush chairs across from the couch. “Why don’t you two tell me about yourselves? Clarke doesn’t talk much about school.”

Octavia spoke up first. “I’m her roommate. Majoring in video production.”

Abby nodded, not seeming very impressed. “And you?”

Bellamy shifted. “I’m Octavia’s brother. I’m not in uni.”

“Oh?” Abby’s face shifted a bit at that. “Did you graduate?”

“Never went.”

“I see.”

“Okay!” Clarke interrupted. “O, Bell, how about I get you two set up in your rooms and we can go out somewhere?”

Octavia jumped up, eager to get out of the room. Bellamy nodded, taking one last sip of his drink. “Sounds good, Princess.”

Abby’s scalding gaze fell onto him as the nickname fell from his mouth, but he couldn’t care less.

︵‿︵‿୨✼୧‿︵‿︵

“So where are we going?”

“To a local diner,” Clarke said. “I invited some friends, too. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Clarke, I have been dying to meet your friends after all the stories you’ve told me,” Octavia responded. “Which ones?”

“Raven, Murphy, and Emori.”

Octavia clapped her hands together. “I am so excited to meet Raven. She sounds like a badass.”

Clarke laughed. “Oh, she is. I have no doubt you two will get along like a house on fire.”

And after meeting her, Bellamy knew they would.

Raven was full of energy and possibly the most sarcastic person ever. She had a brace on her leg, but it didn’t stop her from bowling Clarke over with a hug when they met outside. “Clarke! It’s been so long!”

“Hey, Rae!” The blonde laughed. “It has! How’ve you been?”

“Fantastic. Who are they? Friends?”

Octavia was practically beaming. “I’m Octavia! Clarke’s my roommate. Heard a lot about you.”

Raven preened. “Of course you have, I’m awesome.” She leaned over to Clarke. “Why didn’t you tell me your roommate was this hot?”

Clarke chuckled. “Jealous, Rae?”

“Of you? Never.” Raven reached out and took Octavia’s arm. “Come on, hot stuff, let me buy you a drink.”

Bellamy was smiling widely at how happy his sister was. Clarke bumped his shoulder, making him look down at her. “Come on. Your sister will be fine with Raven for a while. Come and meet Murphy and Emori.”

He couldn’t help the surprise that shot through him. “You don’t want Octavia to come with us?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “When will it get through your thick skull that I actually like you? Come on!”

Bellamy flushed at that, trailing after Clarke into the diner. She didn’t even have to look around, heading straight towards a table in the far corner. There were two people there, a man who looked like he wanted to murder everyone in sight and a woman with kind eyes and a tattoo covering half of her face.

The woman lit up as she saw them approaching. “Griffin! Damn, it’s good to see you!”

“You too, Emori,” Clarke said, leaning down to hug her. “You and Murphy doing well?”

Emori’s smile split her face. “We just bought an apartment together!”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“Girls, if you could stop being sappy for one minute,” the man, most likely Murphy, butted in. “Who’s this bitch?”

“Oh!” Clarke grabbed his elbow, pulling him to sit down beside her opposite of her friends. “This is Bellamy. I invited him along for Christmas.”

“Guess I’ll be stuck seeing you around then.” Murphy looked him up and down. “He your boyfriend or something?”

Bellamy blushed, and Clarke sputtered. “What? No! Honestly, I barely even know him that well- he’s just my roommate’s brother.”

And it shouldn’t mean anything, but Bellamy feels disappointed anyway. He’d hoped they were friends on their own now. He thought that was what Clarke had meant outside. Apparently not.

“Roommate’s brother, huh?” Murphy just nodded. “Kinda disappointed. Dude looks like he’d be great in bed.”

Emori smacked his head, both Bellamy and Clarke going red again. Murphy just cackled. “What? You gonna tell me that’s a lie?”

Emori huffed. “You need to learn decency.”

“If you expect decency from me then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

“John.”

“Okay, okay,” Murphy raised his hands. “Have it your way.”

“Great,” Clarke interrupted, her cheeks still flushed pink. “How about we get some food and we can catch up?”

Emori elbowed Murphy before he could say anything. “That sounds wonderful, Clarke.”

︵‿︵‿୨✼୧‿︵‿︵

Bellamy had to admit, Clarke’s friends were growing on him.

“Bellamy, man, back me up here,” Murphy insisted. “Tell these two gremlins that their movie taste is shit.”

“Says the man who likes to watch slasher films in the middle of the night!”

“It’s better than the comedies you like to watch? In what way are those entertaining?”

“In what way is watching people get their brains ripped out entertaining?”

Beside him, Clarke giggled, nudging him with her elbow. “Whose side are you on?”

Bellamy just scoffed. “Neither. Both genres are mediocre at best.”

Murphy turned to him, slapping his hand down on the table. “Oh, and what do you watch? Fucking documentaries?”

...he did, yes, but he wasn’t going to admit that now. “Just saying, if you like horror, psychological is better. Slasher films are just blood and guts. No suspense.”

“Suspense is bullshit, who needs the creepy buildup? Just get right into the action!”

“Glad to see you boys are having fun.”

Raven slid into the bench beside Emori, Octavia dropping down beside Clarke, who gave her a smirk. Leaning over, Clarke said to her, loud enough that the whole table could hear: “have fun on your date?”

“Our date was definitely more enjoyable than whatever you idiots got up to,” Raven responded for her, wrapping an arm around Emori. “Bet you were wishing I was here.”

Clarke snorted. “Never any fun without you, Rae.”

“Of course not, I’m the life of the party.” She took a sip of Emori’s drink and crinkled her face. “You losers didn’t even get good drinks.”

“Just because Emori is boring doesn’t mean the rest of us are, Reyes,” Murphy said, earning another elbow to the ribs from his girlfriend. “And who are you to judge us? You drink pepsi.”

Bellamy watched as the two descended into arguing, as seemed to happen often with this group. And even if he was a bit excluded, he still found himself having more fun than he’d had in a while. It was nice, being a part of something again. Hanging out with friends. He had never had much time for that, between working and taking care of Octavia.

Maybe he could find that again.

︵‿︵‿୨✼୧‿︵‿︵

“So did you have fun?”

Bellamy looked up from his spot on the couch to see Clarke wandering over to him, dressed in pajamas, hair dark and damp. She looked adorable. Not that he’d tell her that.

“Yeah, I did. Your friends are an interesting group,” he said as Clarke sat down on the arm next to him. From the sound of running water, he guessed Octavia had hopped in the shower after Clarke. Abby was gone when they got back, most likely at the hospital, but nobody was complaining much. “You grew up with them?”

“Kind of. We all got stuck together in high school, and we just clicked. Before that, I’d only had one friend. His dad moved though, and I never found out where to.” She had thrown an arm over the back of the couch so she could lean back, and her arm pressed against his shoulder. He could smell the shampoo she’d used. Clarke didn’t seem to notice their proximity, but he was hyper-aware of it.

“You seem to work well with them. You’re all very rowdy. Very fun. You seem like you would’ve been a trouble-making group when you were teens.”

Clarke chuckled. “Oh, we were. The friends that’ll be hosting the party, Jasper and Monty, they were always sneaking drugs and alcohol for the rest of us, and we’d always get into trouble with them. Maybe it was that common factor that had us all getting along.” 

Bellamy huffed. “Honestly? When I first met you I thought you’d be a goody-two-shoes.”

Clarke laughed. “God, no. Maybe when I was younger I was. But after my dad died, my mom started getting on my nerves, trying to control my life, and I wanted to be rebellious. So I did everything I could to piss her off. I still kind of do, to be honest, but I’m trying to get better about it. I don’t want to hate my mom for the rest of my life.”

Bellamy was silent for a moment. “You want to know another thing I thought when I first met you? When you said you had a bad relationship with your mom, my first thought was that at least you still had a mom.”

Clarke’s face fell. “Oh, Bell…”

He shrugged. “I hated you because you seemed like a privileged princess. And I guess in a way, you kind of are, but you’re more than that. You have your own problems too. It’s not your fault your mom is rich.”

Clarke offered a small smile. “I don’t blame you for thinking that. With how you grew up, you have every right to hate me for the way I live. For how lucky I am.”

He shook his head. “No. You didn’t choose your life any more than I chose mine. We didn’t choose the family we were born into, but we can choose what we do with our lives after that.”

Clarke moved her arm to wrap around his shoulder, pulling him to lean against her. She rested her cheek on top of his head. “I’m glad you don’t hate me. I’m starting to like you.”

He chuckled. “I’m starting to like you too, Princess.”

She sighed. “That’s sticking, isn’t it?”

“You bet it is.”

They laughed together, and Bellamy could feel something warm bubbling inside him. Maybe he was starting to like her a bit too much.

It was only a few more days, though. He could bear it.

︵‿︵‿୨✼୧‿︵‿︵

When they pulled up to the house, Bellamy could already tell he was in for a ride.

It was decked out in crappy Christmas decorations, blow up characters, window stickers, hell, there was even a garden flamingo with a santa hat on it sticking out of the snow by the mailbox. Octavia was out of the car barely a second after Clarke turned it off, and Bellamy laughed at her eagerness. Clarke smiled back at him, pushing open the car door.

“Look who it is!” Someone cheered when Clarke opened the door. A scrawny dude bounced up to them, wrapping Clarke up in his arms. “Missed you, Clarkey!”

“Missed you too, Jasper.” Another guy came up and hugged her, looking like possibly the sweetest person Bellamy has ever met. “Hey, Monty!”

“I’m so happy you’re back!” Monty beamed. “Oh my god have you heard the news?”

Clarke beamed back at him. “What news?” “Harper and I got engaged!”

“Holy shit, really?” Clarke hugged him again, squeezing hard. “I’m so happy for you! I’m invited to the wedding, right?”

“Of course you are!” A woman walked up to them, pulling Clarke away from Monty. “We’d never leave you out.”

“So who proposed to who?”

Monty blushed. Harper just laughed. “I proposed to him.”

Meanwhile, Jasper had made his way over to where he and Octavia were hanging by the door. “Clarke! You brought new people!”

Clarke perked up, moving back to grab both Bellamy and Octavia by their arms and drag them forward. “Yeah! Come on, I’ll introduce you to the group!”

The main room was already a bit of a mess, a poorly decorated Christmas tree tucked in the corner. Bellamy saw the familiar faces of Raven, Murphy, and Emori, who waved at them eagerly. Raven hopped up and sauntered over to Octavia, slinging an arm over her shoulder. Octavia grinned. “Hey, bitch.”

“Okay!” Clarke let go of Octavia as Raven pulled her over to sit beside her, instead wrapping both hands around Bellamy’s arm. “Guys, this is Bellamy, and that’s his sister Octavia. They’re friends from uni.”

There were a few choruses of ‘nice to meet you’ thrown out. One dude came up and extended a hand to him, which Bellamy took. “Hey, I’m Nathan Miller, but most people just call me Miller. It’s nice to see a new face around here.”

Bellamy shook his hand. “Happy to be here.”

“Kind of surprised Jasper hasn’t broke out the alcohol yet,” Clarke, still wrapped around his arm, commented. “He’s usually way too excited about it.”

Miller just chuckled. “Yeah, Maya’s been keeping him entertained. She’s his new girlfriend, by the way. A sweet girl. I’m not sure how she and Jasper work romantically, but they seem to have a good thing going.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows. “Really? Well, I’m happy for him. I haven’t seen him in any serious relationships since- ever, I think.”

“Well, he’s a bit intense, takes someone special to handle him.”

Bellamy snorted. “No offense, but everyone here is a bit intense.”

Clarke huffed out a laugh. “Think you can handle it, Bell?”

Bellamy made an unsure face. Miller slapped his arm. “Don’t worry, man, we aren’t that bad. It’s a bit overwhelming at first, but you get used to it. If you can handle her, we can’t be much worse.”

Clarke snorted. “What are you implying, Miller?”

He raised his hands up in surrender. “Nothing bad.”

“If you say so…”

“You know what we should do?” Jasper stood up from the couch beside a timid-looking woman. “We should go outside!”

Raven wrinkled her face. “Jas, it’s like, supremely cold outside. There is snow on the ground.”

“Exactly! Come on, where’s your inner child? Don’t you want to go play in the snow?”

Raven grabbed her thigh, lifting her leg. “You see this brace? This thing gets insanely stiff in the cold. I’m not going.”

“Come oooooon,” Jasper whined. “Stop being such a party pooper! Where’s your sense of fun?”

Octavia grabbed Raven’s hand, pulling her onto her feet. “I think it’s a great idea!”

Raven made an incredulous sound. “This is betrayal!”

“You coming or not?”

Raven glared at her before sighing. “Fine.”

Jasper whooped. “Yes! Octavia, I love you already!”

The group laughed, all seeming to have been spurred on by Jasper and Octavia’s eagerness, and Clarke pulled Bellamy towards the door, neither having shed their coats or boots since coming inside. He stumbled along behind her, laughing, and though the chill was sharp, he was warm with happiness. 

The rest of the group piled outside behind them, and Jasper and Octavia immediately set to work rolling a snowman. Bellamy and Clarke began to roll another section for the snowman when a snowball hit Clarke in the back.

They both looked back to see Raven cackling at them, a cocky smirk set upon her face. Clarke scooped up a wad of snow, throwing it back, but it went awry and Raven just held up a middle finger.

Bellamy crouched down to make his own snowball, and with Raven distracted by Clarke’s efforts to hit her, he threw. It hit Raven right in the shoulder, and she let out an indignant cry. Clarke cheered before Murphy came up behind her and shoved snow down the back of her coat.

And suddenly everybody had been sucked into the game.

Octavia hit Bellamy on the side, and when he went to retaliate she darted behind Emori, who Bellamy then hit in the stomach with a snowball. He got pelted with so many snowballs, but he threw at anyone who was in range, and Bellamy felt happier than he had in a long time. He and Octavia would do this sometimes when they were younger, and it reminded him of that. He couldn’t stop smiling the entire time.

Eventually, it died down, and though by now they were all thoroughly soaked, they still attempted to finish the snowman that had been started before Raven made the first attack. Even with so many people working on it, it wasn’t the best, especially not when no one had bothered to get supplies from inside, but they gathered some little rocks to use as the mouth, eyes, and nose, and it was good enough.

So after they all wandered back inside soaked and shivering and promptly collapsed in the main area. Bellamy fell onto the floor in front of the couch, leaning back onto Clarke’s legs. Emori plopped down next to him and flashed him a grin, eyes flickering between him and Clarke. Her implications were clear. Bellamy shook his head, and Emori rolled her eyes.

Jasper, still somehow bouncing with energy, declared they were going to have a Christmas movie night. “You came on a good year,” Emori said beside him. “Usually Christmas Eve is a lot more chaotic than this.”

He chuckled. “Miller said the same thing. He blamed it on the new girlfriend.”

Emori snorted. “Maya? It could be, yeah. I think Jasper’s trying to impress her.”

“I can’t imagine him being any worse than this.”

“Oh, god, this is probably him at his best.” Emori nodded to Monty. “Monty used to be the same way, until Harper. The girls keep them reined in most of the time. They probably would’ve accidentally blown themselves up by now without Harper.”

“That’s more Raven’s thing. They’d end up getting arrested for theft, probably.” Clarke leaned down behind him to enter the conversation, and he could feel her hair brushing the top of his head. “How many times has Jasper shoplifted?”

“Every time he goes to any store.”

Bellamy laughed with them, once again feeling intense gratitude to Clarke for inviting him.

“Okay okay shut up! We’re watching a movie!” Jasper yelled. “What’s a good Christmas movie?”

“Home Alone!”

“Fuck no!”

“What’s a Christmas movie that isn’t a comedy?”

“Literally none of them!”

“There are some!”

“Like what?”

“Oooookay, I’m deciding!” Jasper declared, picking up the remote. Everyone grumbled at that, but Bellamy was just amused. He felt something tap the side of his head and tilted his head back, seeing Clarke grinning down at him. He smiled back, face bright with happiness. This wasn’t like any Christmas he’d ever had, but it was his favorite already.

Jasper turned something on, Bellamy wasn’t really sure, and then he and Monty went into the kitchen to get everyone drinks. In true Christmas spirit, Harper yelled after them to make hot chocolate and not just grab some alcohol. Murphy huffed. “You really trust them with a stove?”

“They’re grown men, Murphy.”

“They don’t act like it.”

Maya trailed after the boys into the kitchen, and a little bit later they came back with cups of hot chocolate for everyone. Bellamy took a sip, the scalding liquid instantly warming him up. Someone turned the overhead lights off and the holiday lights on, illuminating the room in red and green. This was truly Christmas.

Bellamy wasn’t paying much attention to the movie, more to the quiet conversations that were constantly going on, whether it be Raven and Murphy arguing over something or Jasper making snide comments, but there was always the low buzz of talking, never silence. Not that he would have expected it from them.

A hand wove into his hair, and Bellamy turned his head to look back up at Clarke. She had a blanket tucked up to her chin, her mug held tight in one hand, and her eyes shone. She looked so content and relaxed, snuggled up on the couch, a hand combing idly through his hair. 

“You look happy,” she murmured. “Happier than I’ve ever seen you.”

He smiled. “I am happy. I’m glad you invited me, Clarke. This is amazing.”

“This is the best Christmas Eve I’ve had in a long time,” she sighed. “You should come next year, too.”

Bellamy blushed. “You want me to come back?”

“Of course. You’re fun, when you aren’t hating me.”

“I don’t hate you anymore.”

“Good. I didn’t like it when you hated me.”

Bellamy let himself indulge as he grabbed her hand from his hair, tangling their fingers and pressing a kiss to her cold skin. She giggled, and he looked back up at her, cheeks hurting from smiling so much.

He hoped he could come back next year. And maybe every year after that, too.

[bellarkes-hope]

Happy Premiere Eve bfsn!!

I totally forgot to make this earlier but here we go! I'm actually really excited for tomorrow and being able to see my lovelies back on screen once more! Whatever happens this season, whether we get what we've been waiting for since season 1 or we leave to go and read all the fix it fics we can find, I'm grateful. Grateful for this wonderful community, the people I've had the pleasure of getting to know through our love of this show. There are so many beautiful and creative people in this fandom, and I adore you all. The energy you bring to the fandom, that is what has kept me around for all these years. Yes I love the show beyond what words can describe, but there's also an element of the obsession that comes directly from you all. Because I've had people to obsess with ❤️

Quick life update: as you can see by these photos, I am now a member of the "I dyed my hair during a pandemic" club, thanks to the wonderful @thelittlestneverland coming down to visit me on my birthday and do this for me. We ran out of hair dye half way through so there was such potential for disaster, but we made it through! And having a birthday when restrictions are being lifted on quarantine isn't so bad. I got to soak up some of the last of the late Autumn sun and see people I love. There are literally no complaints from me

I wish everyone a wonderful week, and also good luck for tomorrow. I have a feeling we're gonna need it before and after the premiere!

Tagging: @thelittlestneverland @tabatharich @clarkegriffintitties @asroarke @granger--danger @raven-reyes-of-sunshine @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @gardenofstories @gaylienkarolina @blvke-bellamy @izzyd03 @octeivia-blake @frecklessbellamy @flowerclarkes @aspeckof-stardust @hvitstark @youmaybethechancellor @stardustly ​ @grifffinclarke ​@ravensluna @galaxyblake @feliciting @bellofthesky @orarewedancer @blakes-griffin @bellarkexsheis @el-corazon-y-la-cabeza @belllamy-blakee

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp This is...Sports Fic

Oh hai there, internet. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy and there’s plenty of your favorite drink in your cabinets. If you, like me, miss sports, I have a vaguely shameless self-promotion for you because I have written just...a copious amount of sports-type fanfiction. Mostly Captain Swan, but I’ve started to tread into Bellarke and now arrive with this almost well-organized list. 

We run the gamut here, so there’s everything from hockey to lacrosse to soccer and basketball. And, you know, if there’s something else you want to see or read about, I’m running out of features to write in the real world. 

----

Tripping Over the Blue Line Rating: Mature Chapters: 40

It's a transition. That's what Emma's calling it. She's transitioning from one team to another, from one coast to another and she's definitely not worried. Nope. She's fine. Really. She's promised Mary Margaret ten times already. So she got fired. Whatever. She's fine, ready to settle into life with the New York Rangers. She's got a job to do. And she doesn't care about Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers. At all.

He's done. One more season and he's a free agent and he's out. It's win or nothing for Killian. He's going to win a Stanley Cup and then he's going to stop being the face of the franchise and he's going to go play for some other garbage team where his name won't be used as puns in New York Post headlines. That's the plan. And Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations isn't going to change that. At all.

They are both horrible liars.

More under the cut, because seriously there’s a lot

More in the Tripping Over the Blue Line Universe

We'll Take a Cup (defense) of Kindness Rating: Mature Chapters: 2

It's one night. New Year's Eve. And a whole list of rules. Because Regina might have actually lost her mind. Or maybe that's just Emma. Because they've played a million games in two days, or it's at least felt that way, and planning an outdoor practice a few weeks before the Olympics seemed like a good idea at one point. Now it just seems insane. So she's going to wear this dress and kiss her boyfriend. A lot.

He's good. Better than good. Great. The greatest. It's New Year's Day and, yeah, sure it's freezing, but Killian hasn't actually tried to push Scarlet on the Subway tracks yet so that seems like a step in the right direction. So he's a little distracted a few weeks before the Olympics, but that's fine. It's good. Or it'll be good. Eventually. Soon. In the meantime he's probably just going to kiss his girlfriend. A lot.

The PyeongChang Triple  Rating: Mature Chapters 15

It’s the Olympics. The. Olympics. And Emma’s running out of post-it notes to write schedules and plans on and there are more games and more expectations and not enough time for any of it. She’s fine. Totally. Absolutely. If she could just sleep. Or stop feeling as if her knees are going to give out every time she stands up. Or get Ruby to stop staring at her like that. It’s fine. After all Killian Jones, captain of Team USA, keeps promising it will be.

He’s going to win. Again. At the Olympics. And Killian’s not nervous. Not about that. It’s hockey. He could play hockey in his sleep. Probably. He’s never tried that. But he probably could. And, sure, there are expectations and games and schedules and barely any time for what he wants to actually be doing, but winning a Gold medal isn’t bad. After all, Emma Swan, temporary New York Rangers Olympics team social media manager, keeps promising it will be.

They’re fine. They’re going to win. Together.

Going Top Shelf  Rating: Mature Chapters: 20

It's more than just one season.

It's hits and goals and being the face of the franchise and events and family and road trip facts. It's on-ice injuries and off-ice dramas and weddings and cross-country flights and shouting in the stands. It's games and holidays and traditions and athletic-based superstition.

It's life and it's not just hockey and as far as Emma and Killian are concerned, that makes it even better.

A collection of 'Tripping Over the Blue Line' one shots from before, during and after the original story.

A Biscuit in the Basket

Or: the AU of the AU where Will and Belle adopt a kid

Also Blue Line one shots are under 4K stories that only get posted to Tumblr. 

OTHER HOCKEY STORIES

Whistled for Icing  Canon One Shot

Elsa leaves a bit of magic in the forest just outside of Storybrooke and it’s reason enough for the town to investigate. Or start up a game of hockey. 

What Used to Be Limes Rating: Teen  One Shot

Killian Jones is only a little worried that he’s not going to survive his first season in the NHL. With a snarky roommate and a fridge that’s barely boasting a few limes, it’s going to be a close call. At least he’s got one thing going for him: his best friend Emma Swan. 

Who he just happens to be in love with. 

A Rooting Interest Rating: Teen One Shot

This is all Ruby’s fault. Emma doesn’t normally work behind the bar, but Ruby’s sick and there’s something happening at the Garden this weekend and she knows she can help. 

She gets behind the bar and starts making drinks and it isn’t so bad when some guy who only wants water shows up. 

Or when he leaves a pretty good tip. Two tickets to the hockey game. She assumes that’s what’s happening at the Garden. 

BELLARKE HOCKEY Connecting on the Wraparound Rating: Mature Chapters: 15, WIP

Bellamy Blake is exhausted.

Sick of the game that’s been at the center of his life for as long as he can remember, and the reputation he’s garnered because of it, Bellamy is desperate to get away from the ice during the NHL All-Star break. So, without much thought to what he’s doing or why he’s doing it, Bellamy heads home, to the place he thought he could never come back to.

It’s a stupid idea, really, or so Octavia has told him seventy-six times, but then Clarke Griffin is standing in front of him and her daughter is an even better skater than Bellamy is and, all of the sudden, Arkadia seems like the most important place in the world.

-----

BASEBALL

You Play Ball Like a Girl Rating: Mature Chapters: 47 

Emma Swan had a plan. Get the story. Get the byline. Up her Twitter follower count. It was simple – she was going to take over the New York City journalism world. And she was going to do it from the sideline with a credential around her neck and a pen stuffed in her hair and a fierce determination no one was going to be able to put a dent in.It was the perfect plan.That plan just failed to factor in Killian Jones.

Sliding Down the Hill Rating: General

Emma Swan's phone rings and she makes a quick, split second decision. She keeps doing that. She makes choice after choice and change after change and, suddenly, she's crying on ESPN. That's probably the last thing she expects.

Or: A not-quite a Little League World Series AU.

Back in the Swing of Things Rating: General

The Sliding Down the Hill sequel. 

Safe Upon Review Rating: General One Shot

Henry won’t stop crying. And Emma can’t sleep. Or stop worrying. And it’s snowing. Of course it’s snowing. She’s not sure what she thinks Mary Margaret can do, but she’s certain she can fix it and the drive across campus should only take ten minutes and….Mary Margaret isn’t there.

It’s the anniversary of something. And Killian is in the room by himself. With a questionable amount of takeout food. And it’s snowing. Of course it’s snowing. He’s not sure when David will get back, but he’s certain it’s too early when he hears the noise in the hall and…David isn’t there.

Step Right Up and Greet the Mets Rating: General One Shot 

Emma doesn’t want to go.

It’s going to be a goddamn disaster because the Mets really aren’t that great and no one on that team will give Jacob deGrom any run support and she doesn’t want Killian to freak out when he sees Mary Margaret live and in action at Citi Field. Mary Margaret is not actually playing the game.

Mary Margaret doesn’t know that.

But none of those things seem to matter and Killian agreed to the invitation and now, a few months into a relationship that sees Emma thinking all kinds of things, they’re going to Queens. Batter up, or whatever.

Start Spreading the News Rating: Teen One Shot 

Emma Swan is just looking for something that’s hers. She’s fairly certain she’s found it in New York, with a group of friends and a good job and picture frames on her apartment walls. But then the past she’s spent so long trying to ignore shows up where she least expects to find it – wearing pinstripes in right field at Yankee Stadium. 

More Famous Than a Yankee Can Rating: Teen One Shot

The sequel to Start Spreading the News from Killian’s POV

Batting a Thousand Rating: Teen One Shot

If asked, Emma would promise she doesn’t mean to start dating her brother’s sworn baseball enemy. But she also knows David didn’t mean to hit Killian that one time in college and, well, you can’t predict baseball. 

and it’s subsequent Tumblr-only one shot sequels

Puppy Love The Yankees host an adoption event. Killian wants to adopt a puppy. 

The One Where They Elope Basically what’s on the tin.

Pace of Play

She can’t believe she’s never noticed it before. Because, honestly, Emma can’t even come up with a number to try and calculate how often she’s watched Killian step into the batters box. And that’s the thing. He never really steps out, either. It’s a weird approach, but that could be the subheadline for their lives at this point and she’s mostly concerned with the power behind that swing.

A Long-Standing Rivalry Killian and David start buying the other’s kid merch for the opposing team. It’s absurd. 

Hitting Against the Shift Rating: Teen One Shot

She has no idea how this works. She doesn’t know what’s a hit or what’s an error or how, exactly, to cope with the way he looks in those pants. Seriously, they’re good pants.

But when Killian showed up at her door that morning, promising “we just need someone to play, love,” Emma couldn’t figure out a reason to say no. So, here she is, playing the game on the field and off it, with half a hope and, honestly, far too many thoughts about his pants.

She’s a mess, really.

-----

LACROSSE

Playing Man Down Rating: Teen Chapters: Two

Emma’s boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, thank you very much, makes the incredibly large mistake of telling she shouldn’t want to coach at the prestigious lacrosse camp he’s working at this summer. So, she sets out to prove girls can check just as well as guys. 

Even if she’s not admitting she’s a girl. 

Or: a “She’s the Man” AU, but with lacrosse

Marking Up Rating: Teen One Shot

Killian had no expectations going in. 

Mostly, he’s just made his teammates stole his phone. But then that leads to this and a date and Emma Swan and...she doesn’t know anything about lacrosse. He can work with that. 

-----

ESPORTS

Where You Can Still Remember Dreaming  Rating: Mature Chapters: 35 

Killian Jones, former crime reporter, was not happy to be home. It hadn’t been home in a very long time, after all. Home was an abstract construct that existed for people who didn’t know as many adjectives for blood as he did. Home wasn’t New York City, but it certainly wasn’t Boston or New Orleans either and he’d always gone where the story was. And he was positive Emma Swan was one hell of a story.

Emma Swan, pro video game player, desperately wanted to find home. She thought she had, a million years ago in the back corner of a barn and a town and faces she trusted. But that had all blown up in her face and it didn’t take long for her to decide she was going to control the pyrotechnics from here on out. So now she was in New York City and a different corner and she kind of wanted to trust Killian Jones.

Neither one of them expected a year of of video games and feature stories to dredge up old enemies and even older feelings, but, together, they made a pretty good team.

-----

BASKETBALL

A Touch of (March) Madness  Rating: Teen Chapters: Two

Emma can't quite remember how it started or why it happened, just that it did and she wants to win. Desperately. To prove something. Probably.

Or just to beat Killian. Either or. It doesn't matter.

She's picked her teams and her upsets and she's got a string of trash talk ready for any potential on-court situation. They're not playing the game, but they're playing a game and this one might change everything.

Or: The March Madness AU about questionably competitive friends and very strong college basketball opinions.

-----

SOCCER

It's a Funny Old Game  Rating: Teen Chapters: Two

Killian's not sure why he agreed to this. Well, no, that's not true. He does. Because Henry asked. And, well, maybe they're some kind of family now.

Emma's not sure why she hasn't said anything. Well, no, that's not true. She does. Because she's not supposed to. And, well, things were pretty good already.

Or: A quasi Out of the Frying Pan sequel with soccer.

-----

THE OLYMPICS

Holding the Edge  Rating: Teen One Shot

Killian Jones does not want the questions. He doesn't want the interviews or the spotlight or the sky-high expectations.

The world, however, does not seem to care. The world, after all, loves a good comeback story.

And Killian Jones is one heck of a comeback story. With his eyes on gold. And maybe slightly gold'ish hair and green eyes and, yeah, maybe he's got some questions of his own.

Almost Believing, This One's Not Pretend Rating: Teen Chapters: Two

They don’t grow up skating together.

They don’t even want to start skating together.

But then life happens and they kind of need each other and maybe that sentence means a lot more than either one of them are willing to admit at first. Or ever. So they keep skating and, sometimes, winning and, always, ignoring the questions. There are a lot of questions.

Because how could two people have so much chemistry on the ice when they’re just partners?

-----

BOXING

Pulling Your Punches Rating: Teen One Shot

It’s not meant to be a secret relationship. But Emma can’t help that her and Killian’s friends are incredibly unobservant. And then it becomes something of a game, waiting to see how long they notice. Until Killian gets hurt. Emma can’t help anything after that. 

[it-is-bugs]

Blake Secret Santa Fic: I’ll be Home for Christmas

I can feel @blakesecretsanta2019 sweating in her latest post, but posting with plenty of time. (two whole hours) 

For @thetucc:  prompt is 'Jean/Lucien or Matthew/Alice (your choice) with settled Christmas traditions (so not first Christmas together)'

Thank you to thetucc and all the fans that are keeping this fandom strong, and here’s to 2020 giving us even more to enjoy.  And thank you so much to @aussiegirl41 for Ausifying.  

Lucien and Jean build a new tradition, while Matthew and Alice enact their own annual celebration 

***

"You put the angel on top, and it's finished."

The woman directs your tentative actions...the woman is Jean.  Jean is your wife.  Your wife is explaining this process, where in the colourful and shiny objects in the box are transferred to the conifer. This is done for every Christmas...it is Christmas, a holiday to celebrate friends, family, and faith. Nod and smile.  Show your appreciation.  Try not to react to the distress in her expression.

"Missed a spot," from behind them.

The man...the man is your friend...the man is Matthew.  Not Matt, not Matty.  Move the string of lights to the left, and he nods in satisfaction.  Release a breath of relief. 

"Lucien?"  All her fear in that name.

Lucien...yes, your name is Lucien.  Not Louie, not Lucky, not these names other people have been calling you since the darkness lifted. You didn't question the darkness; didn't everyone's life start in the dark?  

"Yes, darling?"  You find it easier than saying a name that means nothing, and there's always a glimmer of hope in her eyes when you say it.

"Why don't you help me start dinner?" she says, forcing cheerfulness. 

An instinct tells you to hold out your hand to help Jean stand, which she takes and her slim finger slips along your bare ring finger.  She'd asked if you'd lost your wedding ring, but she's really asking another question. You lie, and say you don't remember where you lost it.  

The gold band had been the first thing you sold for food, an easy act in the moment of gnawing hunger. It had meant nothing, and the act gave you no pause to question 'where's this wife?' The only force more powerful than the hunger and pain in your skull was this need to hide, to stay in the shadows, a sense that a pursuer wanted to take your life. Surely no woman waited at home as this Jean said she had. No hearth was warm, no supper ready, no bed soft. Only the dark cold cobblestones of the back alleys felt comfortable.

The first night in this house, Jean took you to a large bed under a flickering golden ceiling.  Her pale arms wrapped around you, her breasts heaved against your chest from her rapid breathing. "You're home now, my love.  I never lost faith." 

It would have been easy to complete this act. You were urgent and hot between your bodies, her scent was intoxicating. Her touch seemed as familiar as that of a longtime lover, but she was a stranger.  For all these months you'd been another man, not her Lucien, women had reached for you, offered you this but something had stopped you. Had it been her holding your urges in check?  

You'd left the bed, her embrace, and slept on the floor wedged between a dresser and a corner. This felt right and familiar. Later you moved to a bedroom by the front door; easier to leave when this all becomes too much. It is nearly too much;  you vibrate like a plucked violin string all the time.  

The other woman breaks your paralysis as she rises from the lounge chair where she's been reading a psychology book. "I shall help with the preparation as well." She is Alice, and she tells you that she worked with you in your role as police surgeon. An odd thing for a lady to do, but her steady, competent gaze shows she could dissect a corpse with ease.

You see dead bodies when you close your eyes, and you didn't know why.  Or why you were a doctor if these thoughts fill you with dread.  Shaking your head, you trail the others to the kitchen.  

"Lucien, why don't you peel the potatoes for us?"  The one called Alice remains cool and controlled, even as your wife bunches her shoulders at the sink and scrubs the carrots much too hard. 

"Ever since I came to work at the hospital, you've made me welcome in your home at Christmas time," Alice explains as she takes down the china from the cupboards.  "I'm an awful cook, so I try to help by setting the table, and bringing the wine."

You smile encouragingly.  She cocks an eyebrow.  No, you don't remember. 

Matthew limps to the table where a bowl of potatoes waits.  "I'm a much better help."  Waving the paring knife at Alice, he notes, "You should be able to slice and dice a spud if you can butcher a man like a suckling pig."

"That's simply a matter of anatomy," she counters, "from years of study. I've not had the time to apply myself to cookery."

"Leave her be," Jean says sharply.  "She doesn't need to cook."

You don't like to see her upset.  "What's going to be on for dinner beside potatoes?"  What do people eat at Christmas Eve?  "Goose?"  Once, there was a goose...but not here. Not in this bright light. Dim evenings, lamplight casting into dark rooms from the streets outside.  A roaring fire, not these warm Australian summer nights.

Although she's not happy that you don't know, she's relieved that you're trying.  "Goodness no. Too greasy.  We do a nice pork roast, with roasted potatoes, pumpkin, honeyed carrots, buttered brussel sprouts and my Nanna's plum pudding for afterwards."  

You can smell the pork even though you know it's still sitting raw on a plate in the fridge.  "It's delicious," and she gives a genuine smile.  

"Yes, yes it is, if I may say so myself."  

Matthew clears his throat and you look down at the unpeeled potatoes.  Picking up the knife with one hand and a spud with the other, you are uncertain what's next.  Matthew still watches, and slows his motion so you can observe.  Carefully, mustn't cut a finger, the curl of peeling gives satisfaction.  You're surprised to find your forehead moist with sweat when you finish.  

The meal is equally torturous, with many more prompts: as host, you pour the wine, slice the meat, pass the dishes.  

Finally Alice lifts her glass and offers a toast that makes no one feel better: "To old friends, together again."

All through the meal, there is a tension beyond your missing past.  It has form and shape.  You've watched the lurking figure in the shadow out of the corner of your eye. Jean doesn't see it, Matthew seems to ignore it, Alice keeps her back to it.  But you see it.  You want to trust these people, but can't from the way Matthew and Alice meet gazes, then their eyes dart away.  They whisper near those shadows, then part, watching Jean to assure she hasn't seen.  They watch you too, checking if your attention is caught.  Months on the streets of Melbourne have taught you how to keep your attention one place, while the hunter's heart watches another.  

"I suppose I should be getting home," Alice says, beginning the process of giving her farwells, gathering her handbag, and moving to the door.  You stay back at the table, observing the scene, alert for that deception that weighs heavily on your shoulders.

"Lucien, aren't you going to thank our guest for coming?"  Jean is losing patience with you, but it doesn't matter.  You will bring light to the shadows. 

Matthew is equally nonchalant, tossing a "Seeya then," to Alice, then wandering back to the lounge and his newspaper.  

You face Alice and don't like how her level gaze probes. Give a smile, a kiss on the cheek, and she pulls back, containing a shudder.  Sometimes moving closer will push someone away.  

The door shuts. "It's been a long evening. I think I'd better go to bed," you announce.  Jean steps into your kiss, holding her close until you can feel her fingers' grip through your shirt. Retreating through the bedroom doorway, the heavy walnut door closes off her pained expression.

When the darkness covers the entire house, and the only sound is the low buzz of frogs, you leave the house and wait in the deep shadows by the garage. Patience is rewarded. The front door cracks open and a figure stumbles through. In the time it takes Matthew to lock the door, you dart to the auto, slide into the backseat, holding the door closed but not latched. Matthew comes to the driver's door and gets behind the wheel. As he slams his door, you can secure yours.  

The auto moves slowly down the drive then picks up speed after turning onto the street.  Minutes pass until Matthew stops and turns off the engine.  You press down on the floorboards, holding your breath so he won't notice you.

His dragging steps fade away. Sliding from the auto, you crouch in the carpark, spotting Matthew as he goes through a side door of a large building.  It's the hospital, quiet and still this late on Christmas Eve.

You follow, silent on light feet. The hunt feels good after weeks confined in that house.  Matthew's distinct footfall is easy to track through the tiled corridors.  You seem to know where you're going, and it's not necessary to trail him closely. Downstairs, as he travels from spot to spot of light, you remain in the shadows.  At the end of a corridor, he pauses, glancing behind him and you melt back into an alcove.  He goes through a swinging door.  You wait, but he doesn't come out, minute after minute passing.  Finally, you move forward.  At the door, you listen.  Low voices, speak, long pauses, speak again with urgency but you cannot make out the words.  

You dare to push open the door the slightest of cracks.  Easing closer, you peer through.

There's a small Christmas tree on a stainless steel topped gurney.  Two glasses of champagne sit beside it, untouched.  Your gaze refocuses at the sound of movement....and Matthew Lawson and Alice Harvey are engaged in an act of intimacy across the room.

Stepping back, you carefully ease the door shut and reflect. You dare to murmur, "Bloody hell." If they are involved in any conspiracy, it is none of your business.  Retracing your steps, you find your way outside and look up and down the street. On Christmas Eve, there are no cars or taxis.  It's a warm summer night, the sky full of stars. A walk will do no harm.  You know you were once a larger man because your clothes now hang on your frame.  Jean tries to fatten you up, but if you had an interest in extra pudding, it's fled. Sturdier limbs would be welcome.  

A mile along a dark street, headlights catch you.  The urge to flee is strong, and when the vehicle is revealed to be a blue police car, it's nearly overwhelming.  It stops beside you.

A blockish face peers out.  "What's up, Doc," says the policeman, a sneer on his lips. 

You are a doctor.  You are Doctor Lucien Blake. "I'm out for a stroll."

"Pretty far from home."

"The time escaped me."

"Get in and I'll give you a ride."  It was not a suggestion, but an order.  

You take the passenger seat after pausing at the back door, wondering if you should sit in the criminal's place.  

"Out drinking."  Again, not a question.  The policeman drives swiftly but not recklessly.

"No."  You realise that you haven't had a drink in days, weeks, when was the last time you drank?  But you tasted whisky on your tongue the moment he said drink.  

"Jean will wonder where you got to." 

You don't like the way this man says your wife's name.  You have no reply. 

He's turned down your street--how do you know your street?--but as relief washes over you, he speaks again. "It would have been better for everyone if you'd stayed dead."  He pulls into the drive.

You don't reply until you're out of the car.  "But I am back and I'm not going anywhere."  Every day you want to leave, but saying it aloud means it's true.  

You don't thank him for the ride.  

Inside the front door that you open as quietly as you can, Jean is standing, her sheer dressing gown flowing around her slender legs, her face white, her knuckles tight on her clenched fists.  "Where have you been?"

"I went for a walk."

"You've been gone for hours."

She's the watcher, not Matthew and Alice. 

"I lost track of time."  It's a foolish thing to say.  

Her fingers lace with yours.  "You're freezing."

"It's a warm night."

"You're freezing," she repeats, and tugs you past the first bedroom door and down the hall to the magnificent room that she calls your bedroom.  It's made you ache to enter it.  It speaks to a special sort of marriage, where there's the intimacy of two people spending time alone before a fire, one reading aloud from the many volumes lining the room while another listens; her knitting while you warm your socked feet; of time spent in the large bed set at the middle of the room like a throne.  

She pulls you down to the bed, and slips her dressing gown from her shoulders before holding you close. "We don't--please just let me hold you. Warm you up."  Her skin is heated and smells welcoming. Your head drops to her shoulder as you're suddenly exhausted. 

"Tired, my love?"

"Always."

The two of you stretch out atop the bedspread, and stare at the dead fire, suddenly muted.  Finally she asks again, "Where did you go?"

After considering lying, you keep it short. "I followed Matthew.  I wanted to know where he was going so late."

She goes bolt upright.  "Oh, Lucien!"

"What?"

She flops back down.  "Did you see anything?"

You don't want to shock Jean--

"You did.  I hope you didn't embarrass them."

"I'm sure they didn't see me."  You clear your throat.  "They were occupied."

Her arms around you, her legs twining with yours.  "Just don't tell anyone.  It's their secret."

"But you know."

 "Silly," she calls you. 

"Do you want me to go?"

"Please don't."  Her arms tighten.  

Forcing yourself to relax, you listen for your memory in her soft limbs and steady breathing.  She remains a stranger but you still close your eyes, and allow sleep to come.  

Christmas day dawn filters around the heavy curtains, waking you before Jean.  In the night, she's rolled over, her back to you.  Sunbeams illuminate her spine--you see pearls down her back, she's turning to hand her bouquet to a young woman--

Your fingertips trace this sharply focused picture along her vertebrae, causing her to murmur and roll to face you.  Sleepily, her eyes open then widen at your intense gaze.  "Do you remember something?"

You need to respond to her pain-filled hope.  "I've never forgotten I love you.  Never."  

Even as she collapses against your chest, you know that's not enough.  If you loved her, why didn't you come back?  Why did you stay away all these long months?

She kisses you anyway, tentative at first, then soft and warm, her chilled fingers plucking at your shirt buttons.  Her spine arches and presses her writhing body to yours, and memories don't matter.  Just this feeling of belonging to someone--this someone who seems to fit with your limbs like puzzle pieces.  

A ringing from across the room; the phone is ringing.  

"Jean--"

She wriggles free.  "It's probably Christopher calling to wish us Happy Christmas.  I don't want to miss the call."  She does lean over for a quick kiss, and promises, "I'll keep it short though." 

But when she picks up the receiver, her expression becomes worried.  "Danny?"  She half-turns away.

Danny...sandy-haired lad in a blue uniform.  You in court again, more charges for petty larceny.  None of it matters.  A night in jail is a night with a bed and supper assured.  But this time, one of the coppers in the seats waiting for his case called out: "Doc!"  He was calling to you, recalling another life that you could not remember.   

"Are there more charges?" Jean murmurs, winding the phone cord around her nervous fingers.

His fines had been paid, the shop owner repaid handsomely for his troubles.  He'd been carried away from Melbourne in a large auto, this woman, this wife, his Jean beside him, her hand clinging to his arm tightly enough to hurt.  

"Yes, yes, you can come by--"  She glances to you, and you rise, straightening your clothes.  "Charlie's with you too?  What's wrong?"  Frustrated, she says, "Alright, we'll be ready for you."  She rings off.

"They'll be here in about twenty minutes."  She moves to the wardrobe.  "You've met Danny, but Charlie is an old friend as well."  She's become used to introducing everyone to you before we met again. 

She hands you a set of fresh clothing, and you take them slowly.  It feels as though you're dressing for a tribunal.   

Two young men arrive, the one called Danny in a uniform, and a stranger in a dark suit with a portfolio under his arm.  They are not dressed for a Christmas Day visit, and their faces are grave.

Jean, her hands shaking as she grips the tray with teapot and cups, leads them to the lounge.  After she pours, she sinks down beside you on the settee to face them.

"This is Charlie Davis," says Danny, "he's a detective with the Melbourne police."

"A detective," you repeat. 

The two men lock eyes, as though gathering their courage.

Charlie removes a photograph from his portfolio and puts it on the table before you.  "Do you know this man?"

It's an older man, about your age, with blank sullen eyes and a scar along his jaw.  You touch your beard that covers your scars.  You know they're there even if you can't see them.  

"Who is he?" Jean asks. 

You keep staring at the picture.  "He's dead."  You know this because his very image crushes your chest, makes your eyes burn, causes blood to rush in your ears.  

Jean grips your hand tightly but you don't acknowledge her.

"His badly decomposed body was found three weeks ago, downstream from the bridge where you were last seen."

"You don't believe--" Jean gasps.

"A suicide note was found inside his pocket," Charlie quickly explains, meeting gazes with Danny again.

"At the same time that you disappeared, Doc," says Danny, "A woman named Vera Griffith was found murdered in her home.  Her husband was missing."  He nods to Charlie, as though they were passing a football back and forth.  

"When I did my initial investigation of the murder scene," Charlie says, "Lucien's fingerprints were found on the doorknob."

This time, Jean can't even protest.  She sags against you, but your body is frozen with terror.  

Danny doesn't look at his aunt when he admits,  "We kept this from you, Auntie Jean. We weren't sure what had happened--"

She spits out, "That's why you shut down any inquiries I made--"

"We were protecting you, Jean," Charlie offers but she only huffs louder.

Your question stops the argument: "Did I kill this poor woman?" 

Shaking his head, Charlie taps the photo.  "This is Michael Griffith, her husband.  The suicide note was saturated with water, but our forensic scientists were recently able to decipher it.  He confessed to the crime and that he was killing himself as well."

Jean sputters angrily, but your heartbeat thumping erratically between relief and anxiety.  

"With the discovery of Griffith's body," Charlie says, "I searched their house again; tore it apart."  He removes a thick folder from the portfolio.  "I found a number of letters from Doctor Blake."

Jean turns to you.  "Did you know him well?"

A flash of irritation. Of course you did. The blood in your ears has become pounding waves, and bury your head in your hands. It was cold and dark on the bridge. Shouting voices--you wanted him to come to you, to stop talking madness, why was he covered in blood?  Why so much blood?

Jean takes the letters.  "What's in them?" 

"We need you to give us that answer," Charlie says to you, not Jean.  "They're one side of the correspondence and don't tell us much. We're hoping his letters are here."  Now he asks Jean, "Did you find any letters from Griffith?"

She shifts away on the settee, blushing. You're confused at her embarrassment.  Of course she would go through your things when you disappeared, trying to find an answer.  

"Just a bit," she admits, "But I know one place I didn't look."   She hops from the settee and hurries from the room.  You remain staring at the picture until she returns with a large metal box.

"Let me get that for you, Auntie Jean," Danny says, but she holds it away, giving it to you instead.  

"It's Lucien's."  

The box is heavy. You open the lid slowly and are confronted by a charcoal drawing of an unspeakable act being done by a Japanese soldier to a child.  Jean watches you turn the drawings, one after the other.  These are horrible images, but you cannot look away.  Each one must be carefully examined.  When the final one is seen, there's a bundle of letters underneath. You say, "Mike did the drawings.  He didn't want to keep them after the war, but I couldn't see them destroyed.  He thought if he burned them, those memories would go away.  They never go away."

Jean stands. "Why don't you boys go down to the station. Matthew's on shift for the holidays."  She's ordering them out of the house, and they know it. After looking yearningly at the letters, they leave.

When she returns from shutting the door behind them, she says, "Drink your tea."

"I've got to go through these letters."

"Drink your tea," she orders more forcibly.   "I'll organise them."

As you down your tea thirstily, she puts the letters together, yours and Michael's, by postal mark date. 

"Do you want to read them, or shall I?" she asks.

You touch the stack carefully, as one would lift a hot kettle.  "I'll read the ones I wrote. Can you read Michael's?"

She hesitates, then nods.  The first letter is from Michael.  He had reached out to Lucien Blake after years of silence, reminding him that they had been in the same prisoner of war camp but had gone separate ways after returning to Australia. Now he wrote in distress.  

"Sorry to be a bother, mate, but I saw your wedding announcement in the paper and thought I'd drop a line.  How are you getting on?  ...I can't stop the nightmares, haven't slept in days. "  Jean puts down the page and looks expectantly at you.

"I am so very sorry to hear things are getting you low, Mike, and that I hadn't replied sooner. I've been on my honeymoon. If you need to talk, I'm up in Melbourne now and then."

The letters went on in the same tone, Lucien trying to help Mike, until the week before your disappearance. 

Griffith had written: "No matter what I do, I can't keep the dark thoughts away.  I'm just so bloody angry.  Vera does nothing to help, always yapping at me to try harder. I do try, and find myself right back in this hell. How do you keep the wife off your back?"

You look down at the page before you.  "Vera only wants what's best for you. Just as Jean knows the man I can be, so I work every day to be that man. You were a great artist at the darkest time and you can be great again.  I'm coming to Melbourne to follow up on a case next week.  Let's get together, and see if we can get you through this."

Jean taps the empty table.  "That's the last of them. Why didn't you tell me about meeting up with Mike?"  She's the most hurt that you've seen her.

"Our life was going so well.  My troubles were behind us.  If you saw this...afraid that you'd come to fear me as Vera rightly feared Mike."  These are less certain memories of Lucien Blake, more words that just appear on your tongue.  

She starts to protest, but then stops.  Carefully, she says, "I can never know what you feel, but I do want to help."

 Lifting her hand to your lips, you press a kiss to it. 

She turns her hand to cradle your cheek.  She whispers, "Do you remember what happened?  Were you there when he did it?"

You cling to her hand as the room goes dark.  You whimper, "I don't want to go back."

"If you go back to that day, perhaps you can go back to the day before and the day before that, and find yourself," she says urgently.  "And I'll be there.  I'll always be there to catch you when you fall."

You're shaking.  "It's cold. I'm cold."

Her mouth is close to your ear. "Is Mike there?"

"Yes."

"What's happening?"  She pulls you into her arms and holds you with fierce strength.

"I went to their house.  Vera was already dead.  I told Mike we had to go to the police.  He laughed.  Said I would do the same some day. I'd snap."  You're babbling.  "I tried to force him to his car and he knocked me down.  When I got up, he'd run...run to the river....the bridge."

"You tried to stop him."

"Yes."

"But he'd already planned to jump."

"S'pose."  You're so very tired.  Can barely speak. 

"He wanted to take you with him," she breathes, clinging to your heaving back. 

"Did he?"

"You never would have jumped."

"No. But I had to try to stop him.  I had to," you sob.

"Yes, you always need to try."

"Then he was falling...I was falling....we were falling."   

"You survived again.  He fell, but you lived."

You can't even hold your head up.  You accept her embrace, your face in the shelter of the crook of her neck.  "But your Lucien is gone."

"For now."  Her hand makes soothing circles on your back. Minutes pass.  Her hand presses your chest over your heart.  "But this Lucien, perhaps he's come home to stay."

"Perhaps," you choke out.  The photos have been everywhere, people talk about Lucien Blake--his humour, his compassion, his passion--as though he's not the man whose body you live in.  Surely you're not enough for her?  

Gently she disentangles herself and goes to the tree.  She plucks a small gold box from one of the branches.  Sitting beside you again, she cradles the box, seeming nervous. 

"You remembered our wedding?"

"I think so.  Parts."  I feel as dizzy as if dancing. Music playing--

"The Christmas before our wedding, I set the date.  Perhaps we should make that our new tradition."  She turns my hand over and places the box in it.  "Will you marry me again?"   

Opening the box, I see a wedding band inside.  After staring at it for a long moment, I ask, "Jean...you'd marry this man?"

"You have come back to me, don't you see that?"  

I barely nod. The stone as been cleaved, and memories are seeping through. 

Her chin goes up.  "So, then, will you marry me?  On our anniversary?"

March, our anniversary is in March.  "Let's do the ceremony in the sunroom.  I'll get my kiss this time."

She's breathing as though running.  "You haven't answered my question."

I face her, tracing the tears on her cheeks with my thumbs.  "I will, Jean.  I will marry you."

~ End

[eyessharpweaponshot]

Fic Rec Tag Game

Post your fics you are most proud of! No limit on how many, just the ones you look at and just feel so pleased that you wrote something so great! Tag as many people as you like to get them to share their own fics! 2k19 is the year we love our own fics babes!

@dylanobrienisbatman @thelittlefanpire and @pawprinterfanfic - thank you guys for the tags, angels <3

1. Waste It On Me - There's no such thing as love, according to Clarke Griffin. She's sworn off dating after it leaves a bad taste in her mouth and there's nothing that can sway her from that. What she doesn't expect is that fate has a different path laid out for her - one that leads to a curly haired barman who just happens to be her soulmate. Or the reincarnation/soulmate AU that I promised to post ages ago.

Favorite Lines: Clarke is swept back up by the group’s praises but her mind keeps replaying how Bellamy was looking at her. It was like she was the only thing to ever exist in this world and really, she can’t think of a time anyone ever looked at her like that. It was like something out of a movie. Something that isn’t supposed to be real.

2. Devil Side - Bellamy and Clarke face the end of the world but with their fears just at the other side of the door, they need to close their eyes and trust one another to make it out - together. Or the Bird Box AU no-one asked for.

Favorite Lines: ‘Clarke’ Bellamy’s husky voice comes after that, the hand that was once holding her one now suddenly caressing the skin by her neck slowly. She swallows, waiting for him to say more. His eyes are closed now, his forehead still against hers as they share such an intimate moment. It suddenly occurs to Clarke what this is.

3. Lose You Too - Clarke and Bellamy, FBI agents - both too emotional to be level-headed in the dangerous situations they face together. Slow burn, mutual pining, angst, sex and these two idiots caring about one another. All the greatest hits.

Favorite Lines: ‘Turn around, slow’ Bellamy instructs and at this, Clarke hesitates. She closes her eyes tight. This is happening. ‘I said turn around!’ Bellamy yells. Clarke opens her eyes, bites her lip and turns slowly. Bellamy’s face comes into her view and hers comes into his. She watches the disbelief wash over him, the shock setting into his features. His gun lowers slightly and his eyes tighten a bit, almost like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. ‘Clarke?’

4. I Need That Fire - A Bellarke fic where the Elves and the Humans are at opposite ends of an alliance - but love is found at the border, a secret that has blossomed without them even realizing it.

Favorite Lines: She’s like an abyss, something Bellamy can keep pouring himself into again and again. Clarke Griffin stole his heart without even knowing it was in her pocket.

5. You Should Still Take Me Home - Clarke and Bellamy fall into the 'friends with benefits' dynamic in college, but when Clarke starts falling for Bellamy and stops their arrangement, it makes their interactions at a New Year’s Eve party a little painful - especially when Bellamy shows up with another girl.

Favorite Lines: Bellamy’s eyes swept across her face in what she recognised as sympathy. They were the most beautiful brown, rich and deep like the colour of earth after heavy rainfall. His irises glistened with flashes of copper in the light of her dorm, like rust on an iron chain. His eyes held stories and layers behind them, similar to the chain. Once strong and solid, holding tightly onto secrets and guarded aspects of his life but the rust has slowly worn it away to show Clarke pieces of this man. Each shine of copper revealed a layer that told Clarke that there was more to Bellamy Blake than he let on.

6. Stay With Me - Clarke and Bellamy, neighbours and practically strangers in the big city. When Clarke overhears one of Bellamy's nightmares though, it doesn't feel strange to bang on his apartment door at 2:30 in the morning.

Favorite Lines: Maybe she crossed the line. They don’t know one another at the end of the day and it must have been weird for him - his next door neighbor who he sees once in a blue moon, hugging him in his kitchen after pounding the hell out of his door to check up on him. He must think she’s out of her mind - and to be honest, she feels it when it comes to Bellamy.

Tagging: @keiraknighted​ @talistheintrovert​ @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky​ @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold​ @clarkgriffon​ @octannibal-blake​ @asroarke​ @grumpybell​ @verbam​ @bettsfic @kinetic-elaboration @the-most-beautiful-broom @raven-reyes-of-sunshine and all of my other talented writer friends.

[youleftme-clarke]

Who are your favorite bellarke authors?

I am so glad you asked, nonny, because I have been meaning to do a fic rec! The authors listed below are in no particular order; I just went with whoever came up first on my history on AO3, and included some of my favorite fics by each author!

the_most_beautiful_broom ( @the-most-beautiful-broom​ )

Drops of Gold Like Sparks | Rated G | 7,682 words

Coffee Shop AU. Whenever their apartment is too quiet, Clarke and Madi settle into a local coffee shop to catch up on work and homework. Clarke steps outside to answer a call, and Madi asks the most erudite-looking person within shouting distance for help with her history homework.

Room 337 | Rated T | 22,609 words | 5/5 chapters

Hospital AU. Clarke broke Bellamy’s heart; she knows that. She also knows that even though she had her reasons, he never heard them. It takes Octavia being in a motorcycle crash and being rushed into Clarke’s O.R. for the two of them to finally reconcile their differences.

verbaepulchellae ( @verbam​ )

Sugar, Let Me Be Your Passenger | Rated E | 58,829 words | 7/? chapters

“Don’t you think there should be some cosmic rule,” Clarke says, leaning back against the counter as well and contemplating her glass. “That when you suffer through a bad date, the world owes you a blow job?”

Bellamy chokes on his wine, and Clarke helpfully pats him on the back as he splutters. “Jesus, Clarke. Warn a guy.”

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Clarke laughs. “Wouldn’t that be the ultimate?”

“Well, sure,” Bellamy says, a little flustered. “Cosmically owed orgasms sound like a pretty good deal to me. There’s just the small catch that most bad dates don’t lead to sex.”

Encased In Case I Need It | Rated M | 37,063 words | 5/? chapters

Her friends have finally come back to Earth. It’s been six years. Somethings have changed more than others.

theoneinquisitor ( @octannibal-blake​ )

when there’s nothing left to burn | Rated M | 2,677 words | 1/? chapters

The first time she meets Bellamy Blake, he’s spitting blood into a dirty bathroom sink somewhere on the outskirts of Polis. Or: the angsty bellarke boxing fic literally no one asked for.

now i’m running, and i can’t stop anywhere i go | Rated T | 7,034 words

He’s just the boy who conquers his fears and could conquer the world. She’s the girl who can’t get on the ride. A Modern Bellarke AU.

HawthorneWhisperer ( @hawthornewhisperer​ )

there’s an art to life’s distractions | Rated E | 14,585 words | 4/4 chapters

Bellamy needs a place to live for a few months and Clarke has a spare bedroom.

What could go wrong?

it’s been said many times, many ways | Rated M | 18,311 words | 5/5 chapters

A Hallmark Christmas Movie-esque AU, featuring: Clarke as the big city business woman trapped in a small town for incredibly contrived reasons! Bellamy as the surly-but-good-hearted bookstore owner who takes her in! A bookstore with a name that’s also a Latin pun! Madi being adorable! A gift swap and mistletoe! Bedsharing for even more contrived reasons! And more.

not_a_total_basket_case ( @raven-reyes-of-sunshine )

I Want To Fall In Love (With The Stars In Your Eyes) | Rated T | 42,543

This is going to be a whole bunch of relatively short one-shots/drabbles. Probably, but not definitely, going to be all Bellarke. Also they’ll probably all be modern day.

Friends First | Rated T | 3,936 words

“Fine.” Bellamy all but snaps, turning to face Miller and trying to keep his exasperation at bay. “I’ll tell her.”

“You better.” Miller says, wiping the counter down, while Bellamy counts the tills. They’re closing up the bar and Miller has spent the last three hours trying to convince Bellamy to just tell Clarke how he feels. That he’s basically been in love with her since they met six months ago. Even if all they did was fight initially, he was doing it for an excuse to talk to her. He’s never really been great with his feelings.

“I will.” Bellamy says, holding up his phone so Miller can see the screen. “I just texted her to tell her I need to talk to her.”

selflessbellamy ( @selflessbellamy )

Just Another Graceless Night | Rated E | 8,785 words

Clarke Griffin is the newest member of the Alternative Rock band, The Delinquents , but in the band they have one (1) rule:

“Everyone hates Bellamy Blake.”

Of course, Clarke didn’t know this when she slept with him… That complicates things a bit.

You took a polaroid of us | Rated T | 3,767 words

Roadtrip AU: Two weeks after Clarke loses father to cancer, her boyfriend Bellamy decides that it’s time for her to get out of her room

asroarke ( @asroarke )

Only Once | Mated M | 9,963 words

If Clarke could date, he was exactly who she would be going for. He’s smart, funny, a little too cute for his own good… He always managed to say the sarcastic thing that Clarke was already thinking. And he understood her curse, possibly even more than Wells did since he actually had one. He was sweet to her when he needed to be. He teased the hell out of her and loved to pick fights with her, but he knew when to be supportive. And when he praised her for something, she genuinely believed he meant every word.

Bellamy Blake was exactly who she would want in a world where she wasn’t cursed… which was why she needed to steer clear of him.

A Modern AU where Clarke Griffin has a curse. Anyone that she says the words “I love you” to will die. The only logical thing to do is to just swear off dating… or at least, that was the plan until Bellamy Blake walked into her life.

Diamond Heart | Rated M | 11,801 words

The Country Music fic where Bellamy can totally handle Clarke’s fake relationship with Finn Collins. He is not jealous at all. The songs he writes just coincidentally happen to make it sound like he’s jealous.

marauders_groupie ( @marauders-groupie )

Kept Going, Kept Rolling with Nowhere to Go | Rated M | 7,365 words

Clarke Griffin meets Bellamy Blake on her third night in Spain and she blames sangria and travelling for what happens after.

A Cup of Coffee, a Sandwich and You | Rated T | 1,820 words

Bellarke + “You give me a different fake name every time you come into the coffee shop and I just want to know your real name bc ur cute but here I am scrawling “Batman” onto your stupid cappuccino”

islabbe ( @blueshirtbell )

We’re On Thin Ice (We Might As Well Dance) | Rated G | 16,417 words

Finn is disqualified from competing and Clarke needs a new ice dance partner fast! Luckily, Marcus knows just the man for the job.

That’s a Wrap | Rated T | 4,097 words

Clarke owns a gift wrapping shop. Bellamy is terrible at wrapping and of course he leaves it until the last minute on Christmas Eve to bring it to Clarke’s shop.

Willaphyx ( @rebelprincebell )

Things We Shouldn’t Do | Rated T | 92,654 words | 8/8 chapters

Clarke is at the bottom of a downward spiral and Bellamy is riding an all-time career high when they’re cast as the leads of Marcus Kane’s newest drama. The entertainment world expects a blowup of immense proportions between the two feuding actors but get a hard to explain romance instead. Or: a fake dating celebrities AU.

[therealslimshakespeare]

I think it was partially just so surprised bc there's not a whole lot of Hambone stans on here and I'm so used to him being a background character in fics. I need more content like bad!

And then for one of my all-time favorite writers to also be interested in writing for him??? Sold. I do love that marriage of convenience fic that @steph-speaks did. About to go bug her over it. 😛

But you also said you'd be interested in writing Gerry! Do you have any headcanons or thoughts you've been steaming over that you want to touch on if you get around to writing for them? I know you're super busy with life so please don't feel like you have to rush on it. I'd wait for how ever long it took. 😂😎🩷

So glad you went and bugged her. She deserves all the love and bugging for that absolute masterpiece. I’m so fond of all our scheming screams before it was fully fledged into being, too!

Anyway. Yes amen we need more hambone.

I do indeed wanna write Gerry. Did yall know she worked for the circus for a bit? She also wrote some about his coming home and his nightmares and the adjusting to married life after such a short time together but she loved him and he loved her and they stuck at it for a gloriously long marriage.

I want to write a trifecta of reunions. Jean Crosby and Harry, (which I already have written) and then Margaret Blakely and Ev when he got his furlough, and then finally Gerry and Howard. And since these three ladies all roomed together for awhile, I need to write a wine night girl chat between them all about said husbands and what exactly they miss

[pleasepleaseeplease]

Three Days (part one)

I'm reposting the first part because the link is broken to it since I changed urls. I'm working on part 2 this week and hopefully I'll have it up by the weekend or next week at the latest. Sorry for the delay.

Rating: M

Word Count: 2,849

Part 1 of 4

This fic is based off one of my favorite Christmas movies “Three Days”. Childhood sweethearts Clarke and Bellamy have been married for ten years. Bellamy, a literary agent, has spent more time at work than at home, straining his relationship with Clarke. This story is all about second chances and what you do with them. I hope you enjoy it.

Location: New York

outside (day) December 22nd

Santa: (weakly) ho ho ho.

A man in a santa costume stands outside a department store, ringing a bell as people walk past, ignoring him.

Santa: ho ho ho.

A blonde haired woman smiles at the Santa as she walks by him.

Santa: ho ho ho.

The woman stops and turns around.

Clarke: (frowns) Tough crowd Santa?

Santa: I'm doing ok.

Clarke looks in his donation box.

Clarke: Wow, 60 cents and a cigarette bud.

Santa: That's more than I made last week.

Clarke motions him to give her the bell.

Santa: You're supposed to be the one donating.

Clarke: (Smiles) I want the bell.

Santa gives her the bell. With a big smile and enthusiasm, she starts ringing the bell.

Clarke: HO HO HO! HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Everyone passing by starts leaving money in the donation box.

Santa: (amazed) How did you do that?

Clarke: You need to have a little more oomph. Be confident! Be bold! Have fun! You can do this!!

Clarke hands back the bell. Santa gives it a try and to his surprise, more people drop money in the donation box.

Santa: HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Clarke: Good luck Santa!

Clarke walks away.

Santa: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Location: Bellamy’s office

Bellamy is sitting at his desk talking on the phone. He taps his fingers on his desk while he listens to the other person on the phone.

Bellamy: He wants how many? That's impossible! It's his first book. We can get him 100,000 hardcover copies. (He listens patiently) I understand that he wants more but you're talking to one of the best literary agents in New York City, so you have to understand that I know what I am doing. Tell him if we need more copies, we'll make them. I'll give you a minute to talk it out.

Bellamy puts the other person on hold and dials another number.

Bellamy: Finn, I just told a potential client that we could get him 100,000 copies for his first book. Make it happen.

Location: Baby store

Clarke walks around the store. She picks up a jumper and smiles.

Location: Bookstore

One of Bellamy’s clients is signing books. The line of people crowd the bookstore. Bellamy shakes hands with a group of businessmen.

Location: Bellamy’s office

Bellamy hears a knock at his door.

Bellamy: Come in.

A woman enters.

Gina: I just read the submission from that twenty something from Chicago.

Bellamy: Kass Morgan?

Gina: Yeah.

Bellamy: What do you think?

Gina: I have to admit, I'm not a fan.

Bellamy: I want to sign her.

Gina: But why? Do you actually like this?

Bellamy: We don't have to like it, we just have to sell it. I see a book series. I even see a hit tv show. If we don't sign her, someone else will and I can't have that.

Bellamy pushes a button on his phone.

Bellamy: Finn, book me on the last flight to Chicago tonight.

Gina: Finn, book me too.

They smile at each other.

Location: Tree lot (night)

Clarke sips her hot chocolate as she watches families pick out their Christmas trees. She glances at her watch.

Clarke: Where are you Bellamy?

She notices a tree by itself and frowns.

Clarke: I know just how you feel.

Location: Outside Apartment Building

Clarke is dragging the tree to her apartment building. Bellamy is standing by his car, on the phone. He notices Clarke.

Bellamy: (to person on phone) I gotta go.

He hangs up and rushes to help Clarke. He grabs the tree from her.

Bellamy: Clarke, I'm sorry. There was a impromptu book signing and I had to be there. I tried to call you.

Clarke: Really?

Bellamy: I called your work.

Clarke: Today was my day off. Bellamy, I know Christmas isn't your favorite holiday, but I thought maybe we could pick out the tree together.

Bellamy: It's not like I didn't want to go.

Clarke: So you forgot? That's even worse!

Bellamy: I didn't forget. It's just been hectic at work. I'm really sorry.

Clarke: It's ok. You are here now. That's all that matters. Do you like our tree?

Bellamy looks at the tree.

Bellamy: This is our tree? It's kinda small

Clarke glares at him. Bellamy picks up the tree as Clarke holds the door open.

Location: Inside Apartment Building

A dog runs down the stairs.

Woman: Lulu!

Clarke picks up the dog.

Clarke: Did you run away again?

Clarke brings the dog to the woman while Bellamy carries the tree.

Location: Living Room

Bellamy places the tree in the corner near the fireplace and the window. Clarke brings a box of ornaments.

Clarke: You have to admit, the tree is growing on you.

Bellamy: Yeah, I guess.

Clarke: So I was thinking we could go caroling.

Bellamy: Caroling?

Clarke: Yeah. We need a tenor in the group.

Bellamy: Clarke, you know that I hate singing. I don't even sing in the car or shower.

Clarke: Fine, we don't have to go caroling. We can stay home. We can decorate the tree and watch Christmas movies. And if you're lucky, we can-

Clarke whispers in Bellamy's ear and his eyes widens.

Bellamy: That sounds wonderful. It really does. Which makes what I'm about to tell you harder.

Clarke: What is it?

Bellamy: I have to go to Chicago.

Clarke: WHY? It's Christmas.

Bellamy: In three days. There's this new up and coming author. I need to sign her.

Clarke: But now? We spent Christmas together for the past twenty years. You're not the only agent in the company. Can't someone else sign her?

Bellamy: It has to be me. I'm the best in the company.

Clarke: I'm so tired of hearing about how you're the best.

Bellamy: What do you want from me?

Clarke: I want you to be a husband once in a while.

Bellamy: I love you, Clarke.

Bellamy goes in to kiss Clarke and she turns away. He kisses her cheek.

Bellamy: I need to pack. I'll be back on Christmas Eve.

Bellamy leaves. A tear rolls down Clarke's cheek. She starts taking the ornaments out of the box.

Location: Outside/Living Room

Bellamy put his suitcases in the cab. He looks up and sees Clarke decorating the tree. She looks out the window and locked eyes with Bellamy. He waves. She turns away. He frowns and gets into the cab. She looks once more as the cab drives away.

Location: Chicago

Hotel room (night) December 23th

Bellamy and Gina work on their pitch at the table in Bellamy’s room.

Bellamy: Sorry that we had to work here. The conference rooms were booked.

Gina: It's fine.

Location: New York

Living Room

Clarke is covered in a blanket, reading a book on the sofa. She puts the book down and picks up the picture of her and Bellamy from the coffee table and stares at it. She faintly smiles at it. She puts the picture down and picks up her phone. She dials a number.

Clarke: Bellamy Blake's room, please. Thank you.

Location: Chicago

Hotel room

Bellamy picks up the stack of papers and puts it in his briefcase.

Bellamy: I think we are ready with our pitch. I'm going to head downstairs. See you there.

Bellamy walks out the room just as the phone starts ringing.

Gina: Bellamy!

The phone continues to ring. Gina picks up the phone.

Gina: Hello?

Location: New York

Living room

Clarke stays silent when she hears Gina's voice.

Location: Chicago

Hotel room

Gina: Hello? Hello?

Gina hangs up and leaves.

Location: New York

Living room

Clarke drops her phone and starts crying.

Location: Restaurant

Bellamy and Gina are sitting at a table with another woman.

Bellamy: Every agent wants to represent you because they see dollar signs. But Gina and I see much more. We see a woman who put her heart and soul into what she writes.

Gina: It's hard to put in words what I felt after I read. (Looks at Bellamy and then Kass) Your writing is so daring and original.

Bellamy: If you sign with us, we will put you up at the best hotels. We will get you booked on every talk show. We can make you a star. I'm talking more books, and even your own show. I know people at The CW and they're interested. This can be as big as Harry Potter and Twilight. But for this to happen, you need to say yes now. So, what do you say?

Kass looks at Gina and then Bellamy.

Kass: Yes!

Bellamy shakes her hand.

Bellamy: Great! You won't regret this.

Location: New York

Living room (night) December 24th

Bellamy walks in with a bouquet of flowers. The lights are turned off.

Bellamy: Clarke?

He puts a lamp on and sees Clarke sitting on the couch.

Bellamy: Why are you sitting in the dark? Did you fall asleep?

Clarke notices the flowers.

Bellamy: What?

Clarke: You are going to have to do better than that.

Bellamy stares at the flowers and then at Clarke.

Clarke: I heard her, Bellamy. I called your hotel room last night.

Bellamy: You heard who?

Clarke: Gina. I recognized her voice. Why was she in your hotel room?

Bellamy: She was helping me strategize.

Clarke: Is that what they called it now?!

Bellamy: Clarke, nothing happened.

Clarke: Then why didn't you tell me that she was going?

Bellamy: She invited herself. It happened last second.

Clarke stands up.

Clarke: I was planning to ask you to leave…(her voice starts to crack) but I can't stay here.

Bellamy: Clarke.

Clarke starts to leave. Bellamy tries to stop her.

Clarke: STOP TALKING!! I'm going for a walk. I need to think.

Bellamy: It's almost midnight and it's 5 degrees.

Clarke: Merry Christmas.

Clarke slams the door. Bellamy looks heartbroken.

Location: Outside

Clarke exits the building and starts walking quickly past the department stores. Bellamy leaves the building. He looks in both directions and heads in the direction that Clarke took. Clarke hears a dog whimpering by an alley. She slowly walks closer to the dog.

Clarke: Lulu what are you doing here?

Lulu barks and runs into the middle of the street.

Clarke: Lulu come back!

A car nearly hits Lulu. Clarke looks both ways and runs to her. She picks up Lulu.

Clarke: Lulu, you scared me. Don't do that again.

Lulu licks Clarke's face. Bellamy turns the corner and sees that a car is speeding toward Clarke.

Bellamy: CLARKE, WATCH OUT!!

Clarke stares at Bellamy and then at the headlights of the speeding car. She's frozen in fear. The car collides with her and she's knocked to the ground. The car speeds off. Bellamy runs to her. He hugs hers and starts crying.

Bellamy: You're going to be ok. You're going to be ok.

He cradles Clarke. The dog runs off.

Location: Hospital waiting room

Bellamy is sitting in a chair in the waiting room. He gets up and starts pacing back and forth. A doctor arrives.

Bellamy: How is she? Can I see her?

Doctor: We should talk in private.

Bellamy: No, tell me now.

The doctor starts explaining what happened to Clarke. Bellamy starts tuning out what she's saying. He falls to his knees and breaks down. The doctor looks at him with sympathy.

Doctor: Do you want to see her?

Bellamy nods his head. The doctor guides Bellamy to Clarke.

Location: Morgue.

Clarke is lying on a table. Bellamy kneels down next to her and holds her hand.

Bellamy: Why would you do this? Why would you chase that stupid dog?

He concentrates on her face.

Bellamy: Clarke, you need to know that I would never cheat on you. I love you too much. I wish I could have a second chance to show you how much I love you. I'm so sorry that I let you down.

Bellamy gets up and kisses her forehead.

Location: Outside building

He walks to his building. He takes out his keys. He tries to unlock the door, but his key won't fit. He tries another key and the same thing happens. He tries all his keys. He punches the wall. He looks around and sees a locksmith store across the street. He looks both ways before he crosses. He gets to the door and it's locked. He's about to leave when the door mysteriously opens. He walks in.

Location: Locksmith

Man's voice: Can you close that door? It's cold out.

Bellamy: Yeah, sorry.

Bellamy closes the door. A man is standing behind a desk.

Bellamy: I'm locked out of my building.

Jaha: I know.

Bellamy: Can you help?

Jaha: (smiles) It's what I'm here for.

Bellamy: Now!

Jaha: Why are you in a hurry Bellamy? Clarke isn't there anymore.

Bellamy: Do I know you?

Jaha: No, but I know you. I know everyone.

Bellamy looks at his keys.

Bellamy: I just realized I used the wrong key. Sorry to bother you.

Bellamy turns around to leave and gets startled as Jaha appears before him.

Jaha: My name's Jaha.

Bellamy: How did you do that?

Jaha: I'm not actually a locksmith. I'm the answer to your prayer. You wanted another chance? Another chance with Clarke?

Bellamy: I don't know who you are….

Jaha walks back to his desk.

Jaha: I'm Jaha!

Bellamy: Or what you are.

Jaha: I'm an angel.

Bellamy: A what?

Jaha: Oh, you assumed I would have wings. Sorry to disappoint, but no wings here.

Bellamy: Ok, an angel. Fantastic. Well, I'm going to leave.

Jaha: Why were you messing around with Gina?

Bellamy: I wasn't messing around… wait how did you know about her?

Jaha: Hello angel. I thought I covered this.

Bellamy: Jaha, right?

Jaha: Yep.

Bellamy: This is the worst night of my life. I don't have time for your bullshit.

Jaha: If you are going to have that kind of attitude, you can forget it. You don't want to spend more time with Clarke, I'll leave right now.

Bellamy: Wait, what do you mean?

Jaha: It's a tragedy. A special lady like Clarke dying with a broken heart. She thought you betrayed her.

Bellamy: I didn't. I would never. I love her.

Jaha: This has been taken into account. This is why I'm here. I'm here to give you a gift. A rare gift.

Bellamy: What?

Jaha: A second chance. When you wake up tomorrow, you will get the chance to live the last three days over again. Clarke will be alive. She won't have any memories of what happened. But you will remember it all. Are you paying attention? You can live those days anyway you like. But you only get one shot. You need to prove to her that you love her. Because unfortunately, she will still meet the same fate.

Bellamy: No.

Jaha: The same accident that occurred on Christmas Eve at 11:58pm will still happened.

Bellamy: Why?

Jaha: It's her destiny. Destiny is beyond my control.

Bellamy: I won't let it happen. I'm not letting her go again.

Jaha: You have to. If you try to change destiny, the 3 days will be gone. Like it never happened. Don't focus on her dying, Bellamy, focus on her living.

Bellamy: I I..

Jaha: Oh, before I forget, I think you will need this.

Jaha holds up a gold key that shines. He tosses it to Bellamy.

Location: Apartment building

Bellamy arrives at the front door. He uses the key and the door unlocks. He turns around to look at the locksmith and enters his building.

Location: Living room

He leaves the key on the table next to the door. He turns off the lamp and sits on the couch staring at the tree.

Location: Bedroom (Day)

Bellamy wakes up to the sound of cars honking. He slowly opens his eyes. He stares at the ceiling for a few seconds and then turns over to find that Clarke's side of the bed is empty. He quickly sits up.

Bellamy: CLARKE! CLARKE!

He gets out of bed and heads to the living room.

Location: Living Room

Bellamy: Where did the tree go?

He hears someone at the door. The lock slowly turns and the door opens. Clarke walks in with hot chocolates and a newspaper.

Clarke: (smiling) Hey sleepyhead! It's freezing outside.

She sets  the hot chocolates down and puts her hands on his cheeks. He passionately kisses her. Her face lights up.

Clarke: You're happy to see me?

Bellamy: You have no idea. Where were you?

Clarke: I went to get hot chocolates.

Bellamy: Where did our tree go?

Clarke: We haven't gotten it yet. We are supposed to get it tonight, remember?

Bellamy: What's today?

Clarke: Are you ok Bell? Do you feel sick?

Bellamy: I'm fine. I think. Can I see the paper?

Clarke hands him the paper and takes the hot chocolates to the kitchen. Bellamy reads the paper.

Bellamy: December 22nd.

To be continued..

@atlasbellamy @blueshirtbell @asroarke @youleftme-clarke @the-most-beautiful-broom @thelittlefanpire @perhalta @starboybellamy @grumpybell @flawlessbellamy @broodybellamy @bellblake @bellameblake @johnmurphe @great-wanheda

[yehet-me-up]

The Science of Attraction

Pairing: Hansol/Vernon x Reader (female)

Word Count: 3,669

Genre: Camp Counselor AU, Christmas fic

Rating: (F) - fluff/SFW

Summary: The 3rd Annual Jasper College Winter Camp Christmas Competition is off to a heated start. The middle schoolers you’re in charge of at your college’s winter break camp are a mess of hormones and crushes. But no one is more affected by the season than the counselors.

“You like him, don’t you?” says the sassy thirteen year old next to you for the third time.

Your jaw drops and you pause in your decorating to look at her. Bethany came to camp last year, as a twelve year old, and has only become more forthright and nosy in the year since. You snap your jaw shut and re-focus on stringing lights around the tree in the common room, ignoring her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say in a desperate attempt to stop her loud, incessant questions.

“I think you do, and like, he’s soooo cute. And funny. And sweet. Why wouldn’t you?” she demands and you can feel her intent stare as she untangles more lights for you.

You give in and look across the large space to where to boys group is working on their tree. Although, you think with a laugh, it’s more resembling a trash heap at this point. One of their counselors, Vernon, is sitting on a couch, drinking a hot chocolate and directing his horde of middle schoolers around like basketball coach. 

You allow yourself a moment of weakness, three seconds to take in the casual way his hair falls over his forehead. The twist of his lips, the amusement in his eyes, as he lords over the space, his arm slung over the back of the couch. He’s like the big brother every camper wishes they had; all of the boys at camp look up to him with awe.

His head turns, as if drawn by your attention, and you snap back to face the tree so quickly your hair whacks you in the face. A flush rises in your cheeks and you fumble with the lights, desperate to not be caught staring. After a minute you look over at Bethany, who is handing you more lights with a look that so clearly says ‘told you so’ you want to burst out laughing. 

“I’ll tell Adam Rockford you like him if you say anything,” you tease and her eyes go wide. She opens her mouth to say something frantically but you cut her off. “How about we keep this between ourselves, hmm?” you offer, holding out your hand in a truce. 

She closes her jaw with a hmph and sighs, holding out her hand with resignation and shakes yours. She narrows her eyes with renewed focus at the tree. “Now, let’s get a move on. We’ve got to kick their asses. You know what’s at stake.”

You laugh - she looks like a mini general, your right hand in the battle for the victory. The dorm is relatively quiet for a Saturday afternoon. When school’s in session it’s a crush of bodies coming and going. Students off to late night study sessions, returning from sports practice, holing up in their dorms with movies and friends, or off to parties large and small. 

You smirk, thinking about how if this were any other Saturday night you’d be with your best friend, Claire. Either you drag her to the arcade in the basement of Miller Hall with your Astronomy major friends or she drags you to her sorority, forcing you into a dress and making you hang out at yet another get together in some fraternity’s basement. 

You’re definitely the odd couple – her the fashion merchandising major with the Louis Vuitton scarves and designer handbags, you the with the beat up Converse sneakers, permanent pen marks on your hands from doodling too much, and endless supply of space pun sweatshirts. Today’s reads Why didn’t the Dog Star laugh at the joke? It was too Sirius.

But you’d bonded over stapling reams of paper in the counseling during your work study placements freshman year and had only grown closer the last two years. She was off in Paris with her family, but she was obsessively teasing you about Vernon, asking how good he was looking this year and making you want to toss your phone into the nearest body of water.

Now that it’s winter break the dorms are almost empty of students. Your school is near a wealthy community, filled with parents wanting to get out of town for the holidays; off to islands and tropical resorts. Desperate for some time away, without kids. So two years ago your school offered free room and board for two weeks over the holidays to anyone who wanted to be a counselor at the ‘camp.’

You agreed of course. Your family isn’t big on holiday celebrations, and the break gave you plenty of time to get a head start on your reading for next quarter, and to use the showers without anyone else around. 

The only ones staying in the building aside from the security guard were the fifty or so students, seven counselors, and the faculty member who agreed to oversee this; Angie Callaghan, an English professor who was way more excited about the idea of a competition than any of the counselors or the students.

The first year it was simple – the team with the best floor decorations got to pick what movie everyone watched on Christmas Eve. The second year, things escalated. There was a cookie baking competition and a contest to see which team could wrap the most presents in ten minutes. 

This year, Angie’s gone all out. Tree decorating. Caroling. An Elf movie quoting challenge. Her right hand woman, a senior Architecture student named Sydney, has a permanent clipboard tucked under her arm, recording points. It was cute, you thought, how into it the kids got. They threw out taunts left and right to each other, tried to sabotage the other team’s efforts. 

And this year you’d heard that the teams had made a side bet under the table. The losing group has to run outside barefoot on New Year’s Eve in only their pajamas. Hence, Bethany’s steely focus as she critiques your light placement. A squad of pre-teen girls swarm around you, laying out ornaments and discussing strategy with an intensity usually reserved for disarming bombs.

A loud laugh comes from the other side of the room and your attention is once again drawn to Vernon. He’s bent over laughing at a boy who’s making a very inappropriate gesture with two ornaments. His eyes crinkle in the corners and you feel out of breath all of a sudden, struck again by how good looking he is, how magnetic his energy is.

When he showed up to the meeting for counselors freshman year with you, you were shocked. Two years ago he was the stereotypical frat guy. Black baseball cap on backwards, looking for everything in the world like he was trying to act as if he was too cool to be there. 

But over those first two weeks you saw the crack in his mask. The genuine smile that came to his face when he watched Blake Anderson get up his nerves and talk to his crush. How he stayed up late at night cleaning up the dishes and cups from the common room.

The way he swelled with pride when several of the students asked him what he wanted to major in over breakfast one day. He rambled on about business and majoring in something practical for a minute before he’d stopped short. Realized who he was talking to, realized he didn’t have to pretend to give a crap about ‘practical careers.’ 

He promptly started talking at the speed of light about his passion for video games and his desire to code the next Halo or Call of Duty. You were at the next table, grinning into your orange juice as the façade of the ‘too cool’ boy melted away to reveal someone who was just as big of a nerd as you were. 

The next year was even worse for you and the crush you were so intent on denying. You found him in the common room one night, consoling Bethany while she cried about how her parents had gone on vacation without her. And how she didn’t think they cared about her. He’d taken a deep breath, looked at her with her head in her hands, tears streaming down her cheek, looking like he wanted to cry himself at her distress. He’d turned and seen you in the doorway. 

You motioned to her to ask if he needed help and he happily scooted over to let you join them. The three of you had stayed up half the night, listening to her talk, offering words of comfort, stories, laughter and jokes to make her feel better. After she went to bed the two of you had sat there in a bubble of silence, regarding one another as if you’d each seen a new side of the other that you hadn’t noticed before.

You didn’t run into each other too much on campus, large that it was. Your departments, astronomy and computer science were only vaguely in the same sphere. But with your best friend’s involvement in the Greek life on campus, you saw him every now and again at parties. You gave each other friendly waves, nods of acknowledgement, as you passed in hallways, coming out of classrooms, in various living room parties. 

But now here you both are, yet again. Together in this in-between place, once more. Halfway between fall and winter quarters. Halfway between real life and this magical, dreamy holiday place. It’s getting harder and harder to stop yourself from wanting him. 

He’s never said anything about it, but you’ve felt his eyes on you. Seen the way that his attention lingers on you in counselor meetings. Noticed that he always tries to stand next to you in line for breakfast, giving you a wry smile when inevitably some hyper twelve year old cuts between. 

For someone who belongs to the largest fraternity on campus, he’s much more subtle than you would have expected. Wise beyond his years. Not that it doesn’t frustrate you to no end that he’s never made a move, but you can appreciate those qualities about him – his patience, the way his keen eyes seem to take in every detail of a person. The knowing smile he’d given you two days ago the night before camp began when you walked into the dorm together.

If the Christmas Competition is for the students, the unspoken challenge between you and Vernon is a game just for the two of you. Neither of you acknowledging this… thing between the two of you for the last few years. But this year feels different, the normal holiday magic feels charged with electricity. 

Last night, the first of camp, everyone had participated in the annual decorating of the dorm floor you were all staying on. Being the tallest of the group, he was chosen to hang the ceremonial mistletoe. You were pouring apple cider for everyone in the kitchen, but you’d come out just in time for him to step off the ladder. His eyes had caught yours, looking back between the mistletoe and you before giving you a knowing grin and walking off to put the ladder away. 

Frozen to the spot, you’d looked after him with a mix of longing and frustration, thinking he’ll be the death of you. Now he’s sitting on the couch with his legs wide, an easy grin on his face, and you can’t decide if you want to kiss him or dump water on him. A mix of both, if you’re honest. 

Finally finished with the lights, you move onto the ornaments, staunchly ignoring the way that you can feel his eyes on you as you stretch up to reach the top branches. Your team finishes first, of course. You pack up the supplies and head off to the store room with a smug look at him, giving the boy’s disaster of a tree a raise of your brow. 

The dorm being used for storage is a dangerous mix of boxes, packages, and wrapping paper. You do your best to organize the chaos for a few minutes, but suddenly you feel a presence behind you. Turning, you see Vernon in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms folded. 

“Can I help you?” you ask, feigning ignorance that there’s anything in the air between you two.

“Would you like a hand?” he offers innocently, motioning to the leaning tower of bags and boxes. 

“Oh, fine,” you huff out, edgy at the thought of being with him in such an enclosed space. 

He gives you a grin that nearly stops your heart before dramatically rolling up the sleeves of his sweater and diving in. 

“So, how were your fall classes?” he asks as he tries to balance an armload of wrapping paper.

“Fantastic,” you start, intending to give a one-word answer, but your excitement keeps you talking. “I’m finally in the advanced courses so we’re actually getting to work on real projects. We’re helping out the local lab with charting the beginnings of a comprehensive Oort cloud diagram,” you say, your voice raising several octaves in your excitement. 

When you look over at him he’s watching you with a soft smile, paused in his movements. You impulsively bring your hand to your face, worried that there’s something wrong. “What is it?” you ask, and he blinks and shakes his head. 

“Nothing. It’s just - you’re so cute when you talk science,” he says and turns to set down the paper on the desk, completely missing the way your jaw drops. 

Without a coherent response to that you busy yourself with organizing the boxes of granola bars on the dresser. “What about you, I think I heard you got an internship at Bethesda?” you ask, trying to keep your curiosity to a normal level. 

He turns around, eyes wide and excited. “Yes, it’s been incredible. The new RPG they’re designing – well, I cant give you any details, but it’s going to be huge. I can’t believe they accepted me,” he says and rubs his hand on his neck in a nervous gesture.

“I’m not surprised,” you start. “Jeff Calkins in my advanced database management course says you’re wildly talented. A direct quote.”

He looks stunned for a moment, then his lips pull back into a proud grin, making him too like a little boy who just won a first prize. You spend the next half an hour discussing your majors, your internships, both reveling in the fact that someone in your life understands your obsessions and passions. 

His hands make quick work of the mess, his body coming into your orbit as you move around each other; bouncing around each other like atoms in the small dorm room. The connection you feel to him only escalates as you watch his mouth form words with care, every syllable sincere and passionate. 

Your gaze lingers too long on him, unable to tear yourself away. The curiosity that’s been building in you for the last two years seems to simmer to the surface on this night, in this room. Your hands fumble with an extra string of lights as the fantasies you’ve had come rushing through your mind. 

His lips on yours, his hands on your hips, pressing you against the closet door of your dorm. 

His hand holding yours at parties, the sun you orbit around, no longer adrift on your own. 

His front pressed to your back, his hands next to yours as you play Space Invaders at the arcade.

Someone who can understand the need you have to make order of the universe, to create art out of data and numbers. Someone who exists between worlds, between cliques, with you. 

“Y/N?” he asks from behind you, startling you from your thoughts. 

You turn around to find him watching you, hands in his pockets, hip resting against the desk. “Sorry, I spaced out for a sec, what did you say?” you ask in a rush, your eyes unable to stop from wandering to his lips. 

His own gaze is distracted, taking in your flushed cheeks, the way you hold the string of lights as though it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. He leans off the desk, walking a step closer to you. 

“I asked if you were seeing anyone,” he says in a low voice, laced with hope. His warm eyes find yours, taking a deep breath in just as you feel all the air leave your lungs. 

Your brow furrows, your brain seemingly unable to form these words into a concept you can understand. You tell yourself you’re hallucinating, suddenly worried that your logical, fact based mind has slipped into insanity and started merging your dreams with reality. 

“Huh?” is all you can say, your shoulders slumping, lips pouting in confusion.

He laughs, delighted by your disbelief. Closing the distance between you in two strides, his hands pull the string of lights from you and set them on the bed. Gently he steps up to you, sliding his fingers between your own and staring down at where your hands have become interlocked. 

“Are you seeing anyone? I’ve always felt like we’d be good together. We somehow kept missing each other, passing each other. But I came to camp this year determined to find out if you want me too,” he says, slow and steady, as if knowing how surprising this must be for you. This sudden declaration of feeling. 

“I just – no? I’m not seeing anyone,” you manage, your sanity returning. “Wait. You and me? Really?” you ask, wanting to reaffirm that these are actual, real words he said. That he means what you think he does.

He nods, his eyes alight with laugher. “Yes, Y/N. You. Me. Together,” he says like he would explain to a child and you purse your lips at him. 

“You know how I feel about you,” you say plainly, wondering if he could somehow have missed the way you’ve been drawn to him these past two years. 

“I have no idea,” he says with a grin. “Why don’t you tell me about it.” 

You let out a laugh, lips twisting into a wry smile. “Well, first there’s the science thing. God, I love when you talk nerdy to me, too-” you start. Your words trail off on a sigh as he bends forward to place a chaste kiss to your cheek. A noise leaves you as his lips move lower, trailing down your neck, something between a whine and a moan.

“No, no, keep going, I’m enjoying this,” he says, teasing, his hot breath brushing your ear. His lips find the sensitive skin of your neck and you let out a surprised sound. You smother it with your hand, not wanting to draw anyone’s attention to the room.

Your eyes drift close as he continues to press warm, open-mouthed kisses there. You lick your lips and do your best to continue. “And you are so good with the campers, they love you. You show them that it’s okay to belong to lots of different groups, to be many different things at once.”

Finally he pulls back, the lightness in his eyes turning into something deeper. “I want to kiss you. So tell me right now if you don’t like me,” he laughs, releasing your hands and bringing his up to hold your face. 

“I like you,” you say in a rush. A second later he bends down to press his lips against yours, the moment stretching out as you try to wrap your mind around the fact that he’s actually here, in front of you, wanting you too. 

You bring your hands to his waist, folding yourself into his warmth as you remove any remaining space between your bodies. He moves against you, slanting his lips against yours and capturing them fully. You sigh against him, disbelief turning to passion as you catch up and pull back, needing to look him in the eye.

“So, wait. You like me too?” you ask with a grin. 

He laughs quietly, brushing your hair behind your ear with one hand. He nods, looking down at you with a cute smile. 

“Tell me all about it,” you say in a light voice, leaning over to press a kiss to his jaw, making him swallow dramatically. 

“Okay, let’s start with the fact that you have the current high score on Space Invaders, because that is incredibly hot…” he starts and you smile against his skin.

You emerge back into the main common room together, much later that night - hair ruffled, lips red and swollen, hands clasped together. The space is blissfully absent of middle schoolers or any other adults. The two trees stand at opposite ends, direct contrasts in skill level and aesthetic appeal. You stare at the mess that is the boys tree and smother a giddy laugh that he immediately notices. 

“Don’t say it,” he groans, his hands tickling your waist until you laugh and have to slap his hands away.

“But-” your start, holding your hand out indignantly to the monstrosity in the corner. 

“I swear I will break up with you if you say it,” he says, a lopsided grin coming to his mouth.

“Okay, fine,” your say with a huff, dropping your hand. A beat later, his words hit you. “Wait a minute… break up with me? Are we together now?” you ask, a wave of hope rising in you. 

“It took me two years to catch you. I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon,” he says warmly, leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Okay, but that really is the saddest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen,” you laugh when he pulls back.

“Oh boy, you’ve insulted Clarence. You’re going to get it now, babe,” he says with a devilish smile, grabbing your hand to pull you against him. His eyes glance up to the mistletoe above your head before leaning down to kiss you again.

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

Chopped: Holiday Trope Exchange Masterlist 

A huge thanks to every person who signed up for our gift exchange, we got 18 really wonderful fics! For anyone who isn’t sure what this was all about, this was a double blind gift exchange where each of our eighteen (18!!!) writers were assigned four tropes from an anonymous recipient, and were tasked with writing a fic that fit our holiday theme, and included all the tropes. The only guidance from their recipient were a couple of brief notes they included during the sign up, and both the writer and recipient were revealed when we shared all the fics! These fics, as with all our Chopped fics, were creative and unique, and found ways to utilise tropes that may seem so simple in really spectacular ways! If this gift exchange, or any of our other Chopped events, have sparked your interest, keep your eyes peeled on this page for some future events we have planned, and sign up to join the fun! In the meantime, we hope you enjoy these wonderful holiday fics!

Love to everyone who participated, Bailey and Sara <3 

Let it Snow (And I’ll Get Sentimental) [G] (Memori) 

Written by @mylifeiskara, for @hostagetakerandhistraitor​. The four assigned tropes were 1) friends made a bet, 2) one character kisses the other and the one who got kissed is shocked still, 3) amnesia AU, 4) ark AU (or any other AU where the story takes place in space).

All John Murphy wants for Christmas is for Emori to remember who he is.

Won’t let you go [G] (Clurphy) 

Written by sapphictomaz, for @vmreed​. The four assigned tropes were 1) childhood friends-to-lover, 2) grounder au, 3) tattoos, and 4) body painting

There is nothing shared in Clarke and Murphy's lives. They come from opposite clans who have a history of warfare between them. She lives in the jungle, while he calls the mountainside home. She celebrates the holidays by dancing the year away, and he does so by claiming dominance on another year that has passed.

They meet, anyways, and realize that sometimes, you have to make your own traditions.

Contained Constant Chaos [T] (Murven)

Written by @vmreed, for sapphictomaz. The four assigned tropes were 1) Post-Apocalypse AU (different from canon), 2) Found Family, 3)Hurt/Comfort, and 4) "You're an asshole to everybody else, but you're nice to me"

“Please don’t kill me.” He said, stupidly.

She raised an eyebrow, saying nothing, but offering him a box of tampons.

and i’ll die by your side if you want me to [T] (Memori)

Written by @dylanobrienisbatman​, for @justbecauseyoubelievesomething. The four assigned tropes were 1) based on a tv show (author chose Timeless), 2) soulmate AU, 3) fake dating, and 4) timeloop/groundhog day AU.

Murphy got tapped to come work for a special project after he was arrested for stealing a military vehicle right off of the base (long story). Turns out the special project... involved time travel... so theres that. About 6 months after he signed on, it all went horribly sideways, and now they were chasing their friends across history, trying to stop them from making a horrible mistake.

Thats how they end up in the middle of World War I France on Christmas day in 1914. Thats how she dies.

And then... somehow... the day begins again. Can he figure out a way to stop The Blake Siblings from wrecking history forever and also save the girl?

This Christmas, You're All That I Want (Just Don't Tell Anyone) [G] (Bellarke)

Written by @bellarkestitchdelena​, for @captaindaddykru​. The four assigned tropes were 1) Joke kiss turned serious, 2) The main ship must share something (can literally be anything), 3) Two characters giving extremely biased flashbacks to an event, and 4) Secret Relationship.

It all starts trying to prove Murphy wrong

Season’s Grievances [G] (Multi)

Written by @hostagetakerandhistraitor​, for @teeandsnowflakes​. The four assigned tropes were 1) a terribly loud crash and one of the characters yelling ‘IM OKAY’ from another room, 2) huddle for warmth, 3) found family, and 4) one character is ‘icy’ and slowly defrosts. 

Bellamy and Raven have been best friends for over 3 years. They found each other at their low points and bonded to turn each other into better people. But when Bellamy starts dating Raven's ex, Echo, things get icy. This is a story of family, friendship, romance, betrayal, culinary inaptitude, with a slight zest of things I wanted to be canon. Also a Blake family Christmas party.

Kiss Me Babe, It's Christmas Time [M] (Bellarke)

Written by @eyessharpweaponshot, for @shen-gong-oops​. The four assigned tropes were 1) One character has a child, 2) Characters are not together but are mistaken for a couple, 3) Terribly loud crash and one character goes ‘oops’ in a casual voice, 4) Two characters giving extremely biased flashbacks of the same event.

How long have you been in love with him? Seven years now?’ ‘Eight’ Clarke corrects him, her voice muffled through her hands as she cups her face. She’s still trying to calm her heart rate down. Murphy simply laughs, his amusement of this clear as day. ‘Don’t know what you’re laughing at. You were in the same boat with Raven’ Clarke reminds him. ‘Not for eight years, I wasn’t.’ Clarke rolls her eyes. She should never have told Murphy. The results of too much wine and being the last ones standing after a night in Grounders a couple of years ago. ‘Look, all I’m saying is it might be worth telling him’ he shrugs, leaning against the broom in his hand. Clarke gives him a pointed look. ‘Nobody is telling Bellamy anything.’

Christmas time, a harbouring secret and a festive get-together. The perfect combination.

where the love light gleams [T] (Murven)

Written by @teeandsnowflakes, for @kuklash​. The four assigned tropes were 1) meet cute, 2) first kiss, 3) surprise proposal, 4) pregnancy AU.

Raven hadn't been home for Christmas in four years, but the one year she did, she met Murphy, new in town since she had last been there, and learns a very important lesson about the holidays.

i know you can feel the magic we don't need to talk about it [T] (Bellarke)

Written by @captaindaddykru , for @eyessharpweaponshot​. The four assigned tropes were 1) exes, 2) jealousy, 3) protectiveness, 4) modern au. 

Christmas eve, Clarke's sort-of-ex shows up at her door in the middle of an awkward family dinner and so she ends up flashing him. Holiday spirit and all.

Dance Your Way Home [T] (Becho)

Written by @justbecauseyoubelievesomething​, for @dylanobrienisbatman​. The four assigned tropes were 1) historical AU (1920′s or earlier), 2) almost kiss/interrupted kiss, 3) holiday party, and 4) sunrises.

“We need to get you home. You’re freezing.”

Home. She has no home.

Everyone Telling You Be of Good Cheer [G] (Clurphy)

Written by @kinetic-elaboration​, for @hopskipaway​. The four assigned tropes were 1) amnesia, 2) found family, 3) oblivious pining, and 4) and mistletoe kiss.

“Merry Christmas, by the way,” Clarke adds, which settles that.

“You too. Merry Christmas.” He takes down Bellamy’s NYU mug without thinking, tries to shake the feeling that he’s no more than an extra in Clarke’s amnesiac version of Groundhog’s Day. That this is, somehow, normal. That he is not wondering, the thought like an invasive little jingle in his ear, what she thinks yesterday was.

The day after Murphy, Clarke, Bellamy, and Raven return from disappointing family Christmases, Clarke wishes that they could have spent the holiday together instead. A fall down the stairs, a bout of amnesia—and suddenly it’s Christmas again. And again. And again. Reliving the day puts even Murphy into the holiday spirit, and helps him learn to open his heart to his friends, and to the possibility of love.

3 Times Murphy Lost a Fight, and 1 Time He Didn't  [M] (Clurphy)

Written by @kuklash​, for @mylifeiskara​. The four assigned tropes were 1) 3+1, 2) Oblivious Pining, 3) Work Party, and 4) First Kiss.

Dec. 20th, 2003

"This party is gonna fucking suck, Clarke."

"Of course it’s gonna suck, Murphy, but if you want this job you have to schmooze," the blonde said with an eye roll. "The best place to schmooze is the company Christmas party."

A Little Brighter [G] (Bellarke)

Written by @shen-gong-oops​, for @bellarkestitchdelena​. The four assigned tropes were 1) Rivals to Lovers, 2) Arranged Marriage AU, 3) Pregnancy, and 4) Sunsets.

Taking a deep breath, he turned towards Clarke. "If I were to take up your father's offer for knighthood, please know, I do not wish to be the knight to the princess of all Arkadia."

Or: Bellamy takes a really long time to realize he's being a hypocrite.

when i’m feelin' alone (you remind me of home) [G] (Clurphy)

Written by @hopskipaway​, for @probably-voldemort​. The four assigned tropes were 1) royalty au, 2) marriage pact, 3) clumsy character, and 4) roommates. 

Within the walls of the palace, Princess Clarke of Arkadia lives a quiet and lonesome life.

That is, until John Murphy waltzes into her life and changes it forever. She’s not complaining.

sweet dreams of holly and ribbon, mistakes are forgiven, and everythin' is icy and blue, and you would be there too

make my wish come true [T] (Murven)

Written by @probably-voldemort​, for @kinetic-elaboration​. The four assigned tropes were 1) almost kiss / interrupted kiss, 2) holiday movie (as in being in a holiday movie), 3) friends with benefits, and 4) band au. 

It's been ten years since the Delinquents went off air, so clearly it's time for a reunion in the form of a Christmas special. Yeah, it sounded like bullshit to Murphy, too, but he hadn't seen the crew since Raven's wedding a few years back, and he'd managed to convince Kane that his character should have a dog, so there was no way it could be all bad.

Right?

Last Christmas [NR] (Bellarke)

Written by @bellarkeshoe​, for @hiddenpolkadots​. The four assigned tropes were 1) Exes, 2) Fake dating, 3) Kiss under the mistletoe, and 4) Modern Au.

Bellamy Blake never thought he would see Clarke Griffin again in his life. At least, not after the way things ended. He wished that things had gone differently because well, he cared about her. He loved her and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He never even really got the chance to tell her that.

Everything happened so fast. One moment he is as happy as he can be, enjoying his life as a professor with an amazing girlfriend, and just like that, his world came crumbling down and over one huge misunderstanding.

But when they ended it, they both said some things they didn’t mean, or well he hoped she didn’t mean what she had said, he knows he didn’t.

But that is all in the past now, he can never forget about her, he still thinks about her everyday, but there is nothing he can really do about it. Clarke hates him for some reason and he doesn’t know if he’s totally over the fact that she ended things.

He is sure she had a good reason to. I mean at least that’s what he hopes. If the love they felt for each other was genuine and real than she should have had a very good reason to end things, right?

your eyes outshine the town, they do [T] (Bellarke)

Written by @hiddenpolkadots​, for @thelittlefanpire. The four assigned tropes were 1) magic au, 2) competing businesses, 3) secret relationship, and 4) kiss in the snow.

“I’m going to make you enjoy Christmas,” she tells him, her confidence in herself almost overwhelming. “I can’t do anything about the weather but I’m pretty sure I can handle the rest. By the time the season is over you’re going to love Christmas.”

“I highly doubt that,” he says, staring at her hard. “I may just tolerate it at best.”

“I’ll take it,” she says, “Bellamy Blake, prepare to have the best Christmas of your life.

or, sometimes christmas is you and your rival falling into a snowbank together.

Taste of Arkadia [G] (Bellarke)

Written by @thelittlefanpire​, for @bellarkeshoe​. The four assigned tropes were 1) Rivals to Lovers, 2) Character A catches Character B crying, 3) Modern AU, and 4) Competing businesses (author’s choice).

Before Christmas, the Chancellor of Arkadia charges his son with the task of repurposing the city’s warehouse district into a cool, hip hub for commerce and camaraderie.

At its opening, an impromptu competition among the many businesses in the area begin for the best spot in the ARK.

Take a read! Leave a kudos/comment! These fics are so unique and fun and the authors worked so hard on them. Thanks so much!

[mountainana]

Secret Santa Fic - All the Things You Are

Here is my gift to @marcuskaen for the prompt “Lucien x Jean + their first Christmas together”.  10,000 thank yous to @professortennant for the endless help. I hope you all enjoy the fluffiness.

Also at fanfiction.net

Christmas night. All the presents opened, all the company gone home, paper and ribbons cleaned away. It has been a lovely - if very warm and busy - day, and Jean finally has a moment to herself. She slips out of the house and into the back garden to catch the evening breeze. Her thoughts, as usual, turn to Lucien. And what a wonderful “first Christmas” they have had…

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

Actually, it had started early in November. In spite of it having been a mild Spring day, the evening air was chilly. Lucien had poured a whiskey for himself and Jean, and then set about to build a fire. Jean took a sip of the amber liquid, and sighed as it’s warmth spread throughout her body.  She had started to appreciate Scotch lately for that warmth, but now, watching her husband work, she began to wonder if the heat she felt was from the whiskey or her rising desire.  His collar was unbuttoned, and his sleeves were rolled up, and watching the play of his muscles and the firelight on his skin had Jean mesmerized. Never taking her eyes from the sight of her husband, Jean moved across the room to stand beside him. She picked up his glass and ran a finger down his cheek.

“Lucien…” He looked up into her face and seeing the look in her eyes, stood without a word. She handed him his whiskey, signaling him to drink. Holding her gaze, he accepted her silent invitation and before he could form a coherent thought, she leaned in to taste the whiskey on his lips. The thought went through her mind that this was how she had developed her taste for Scotch.  When he parted her lips with his tongue, she gladly deepened the kiss. Who needed Scotch? She was drunk on the taste and feel of her husband.Things were heating up quickly, but, alas, their old nemesis was about to strike.

 ”Rrri-i-i-i-n-n-g!!!!” 

Jean sighed in frustration. “I’ll get it.” And straightening her hair, she went to answer the phone, sending him a look over her shoulder that said, ‘I’m not done with you yet.” But when she returned a few minutes later, she was shaking her head in disbelief.

“Darling, is everything alright? Who was on the phone?”

“It was Christopher. He has invited us to Adelaide next weekend for the Christmas parade.”

Lucien patted the space beside him on the couch. “Well, that’s wonderful news! Tell me what he had to say.

”Jean joined him and snuggled into his shoulder. “He said Amelia is so excited about Christmas this year that they decided the parade would be just the thing. And Ruby… Ruby (!)…suggested that we might like to join the fun.” She looked at Lucien and laughed. “Can you believe it?”

Jean’s happiness was infectious, and Lucien gathered her closer for a kiss. “Splendid! When do we leave?

”They arrived at the Beazley house late the next Friday afternoon. After a lovely dinner Jean took Amelia upstairs to get her ready for bed. They washed up and brushed teeth and got into pajamas. Amelia had chosen a story she wanted to hear, so Jean got her into bed and snuggled down beside her to read. When Lucien tiptoed upstairs to see how they were doing, the sight that greeted him brought tears to his eyes. Jean was reading as Amelia listened with rapt attention, looking at Jean with such love that Lucien couldn’t turn away. He took in the scene vowing to himself he would hold this memory forever.

The next morning, they crowded into Christopher’s car and headed downtown for the parade. Amelia could hardly contain her excitement as she sat on her daddy’s shoulders and took in all the bands and floats. It had been years since Lucien and Jean had been to a parade and they got caught up in the spectacle as well, but truth be told, they had the most fun watching Amelia. When Santa Clause came by she was so thrilled that Ruby, laughing, had to keep her from slapping Christopher’s head in her joy

.On the way back to Ballarat Jean scooted over on the seat to be close to Lucien and sighed with contentment. “This was just the perfect way to start our first Christmas.”

And now, in the fading light of this day she is thinking ‘Yes, but it was only the start’. She remembers that first Friday in December when she returned home from shopping and was met at the front door by Lucien.

  Before Jean could say hello, he grabbed her around the waist and brought her in for a fiery kiss. As they came up for air she said shakily, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”Lucien just pointed above their heads to the mistletoe that hung from the doorway. “Well,” she smiled mischievously, “We certainly can’t let perfectly good mistletoe go to waste.” And she leaned in and gave as good as she got

.Lucien finally pulled back and said, “I’m so glad you feel that way.” He opened the door and stepped back to let her in the house ahead of him. Not two steps in, she stopped with a gasp and covered her mouth in surprise. Then she burst into delighted laughter. For there, in every doorway in the house, Lucien had hung a sprig of mistletoe. And, oh, they had a lovely time kissing their way from one doorway to the next!

Then there was the morning of December 5th when the not-so-newlyweds woke up to a driving rain. As the morning progressed, the weather continued to worsen and one by one each of Lucien’s surgery patients, not wanting to brave the storm, called to reschedule their appointments. 

Now there are those who would curse the storm and consider the day ruined. But for two people like Lucien and Jean Blake, it was a gift of time. Time for quiet conversation and private jokes. Time for endearments. And caresses. And kisses. And…

The day wasn’t wasted at all. 

The rain finally ended and gave way to what promised to be a beautiful sunset. “Come with me, Love. Let’s take a little walk.”

Hand in hand they walked out to the garden. Jean’s flowers were a riot of color and the air was heavy with their fragrance. The two made their way through the flowers in comfortable silence. Jean was filled with such a tangible feeling of contentment she thought she might burst. ‘I wonder if Lucien feels this way, too.’ The thought had no sooner entered her mind than Lucien stopped and kissed her hand - so gently, almost reverently. He lifted his gaze to meet hers and the look of love on his face made her breath catch. He tucked her hand through his arm and they walked back to the house.

When they got to the kitchen they realized how muddy their shoes had gotten. “Let’s just leave them here outside the door - we don’t want to track up your floor. We’ll clean them tomorrow.”

The next morning Jean went to bring her shoes in, but when she opened the door to get them she found a surprise instead. “Lucien! Can you come here, please?”

He came to the kitchen looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. “Yes, dear?” He was fighting hard to keep his grin under control.

“Can you explain this?” Jean asked with mock anger as she pointed to her shoes. There they sat -  each one full of little gifts and treats

.“Um, well, it is St. Nicholas Day, Jean. But I can see why you might be surprised. I thought he only visited houses in France!

”“Oh, you!” She slapped his arm playfully.They brought the shoes in and opened all the gifts. Jean popped a sweet into his mouth and then enjoyed the sugar on his lips. She couldn’t stop giggling and Lucien was enjoying it almost more than she. After all was put away, Jean smiled to herself. Lucien’s little escapade had given her an idea of her own

.Oh, and the night they decorated the tree. It was so lovely, and, after all it was their ‘first’, so they put Ella Fitzgerald on the record player, and danced. Then they made love by the light of that tree.

And last night - Christmas Eve. Lucien once again moved her by his thoughtfulness when he suggested they attend Midnight Mass. The thought of going made Jean very nervous, but Lucien was so earnest in wanting to please her that she said yes. They slipped in the back and sat down.  Jean reached for Lucien’s hand, took a deep breath, and let the silence settle over her. The familiar words and music wrapped around her like a comfortable old sweater. He was right - it was just what she needed.

The ride back home was quiet. “Are you alright, Love?”“Oh, my, Lucien. I am more than alright. I’m with you

.”When they got home, Lucien went to pour them both a night cap. Jean smiled and said, “Stay there, I’ll be right back.”She came in a moment later with something on a plate.

 “What have you there?” Lucien asked, intrigued.

“La Buche de Noel” she said laughing. “I know I didn’t say that right” She looked at Lucien’s face as his smile disappeared and tears came to his eyes. Jean put the plate down and went to him, taking his face in her hands. “Oh, what have I done? Luicien?” I’m so sorry!

”He caught her hand. “No, Jean, it’s perfect. It’s just… I haven’t had one since my mother died. She made one every year - just for me. It was my favorite part of Christmas. And now, you….” He gathered her in his arms. “God, I love you. Thank you, my darling.”

And they fed each other the rich cake, kissing away the crumbs and cream

              .-------------------------------------------------------------------------

What a wonderful time it had been. Sitting here in the fading light of this first Christmas, she’s a little sad for it to come to an end, but it’s late and she must go back inside.

 As she passes the study, Lucien calls out softly, “Jean, can you come in for a moment?” He’s by his desk holding an old journal. Why does it look so familiar? She looks at his face and wonders why he seems suddenly shy. “I…um…I have one more gift for you. I’m afraid it isn’t wrapped. Do you mind?

”‘Do you mind.’ With those words the memory comes flooding back. She is the one holding that journal…and his sketches…my God! Those terrible images. 

“Jeannie?” His voice brings her back to the present and away from that awful day. As she finally focuses on her husband’s face, she can see that he’s holding out the journal to her. “I…well…these are for you

.”With trembling hands she takes the journal from him and turns to sit. ‘What is he thinking?’ She closes her eyes and wills her hands to open her ‘gift’. With dread she opens her eyes to see what he has drawn. It’s…it’s…her! And Amelia. It’s the night she was reading the story, and Lucien has caught the expression on Amelia’s face perfectly.She looks up. “When?” she breathes

.Lucien smiles. “Do you like it?

But she can’t wrap her mind around this. Again - “When?”

“There are more,” he says

.She lifts that first sketch, and sure enough, there she is at the sink. And at the clothes line, beating a rug. And in the sunroom with a dirty apron and a smudged nose.

Sewing a button.

Sipping tea

Holding a test tube

Holding a patient’s hand.

Sleeping - tangled in the sheets with her hair loose and glorious

.“Lucien…”

“My sweet Jean. I have seen so much pain. And for so long it consumed me.  I had to let it out somehow, and when drinking wasn’t enough, I put it on paper. The pain was all I knew. It was where I lived and what I breathed. I carried it with me as surely as I carried those sketches. And even when I felt the stirrings of a new life here, I couldn’t take that first step into an unknown future. The past was a terrible place to be, but at least I knew where I was.

 “But as time went by, I began to realize that you were becoming my past. And my present. And now you are my future, too. I want my journal, my home, my life to be full of you.

”Lucien opens his arms and Jean goes to him. For a moment they just stand and breathe each other in. The Jean leans back and looks deeply into her beloved’s eyes

“But…WHEN?”

Lucien throws his head back and laughs. “Oh no, my love. A husband has to have some secrets!”

And with that, Jean is ready to let this first Christmas go. They will never have a first Christmas again, but there will be a second Christmas, and a tenth, and a twenty-fifth. They will each be the other’s past and future. 

And each day a present.  ��<�