#okay can someone else read the book i have finals week but .. matthew .... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

embrassemoi · 3 years

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 30

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L Warnings: Language, angst, meeting new characters Important Question: do you guys prefer shorter or longer chapters? also, I listened to first love / late spring by Mitski for this ch if anyone else wants to listen along!

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 30: Like a Tall Child

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

Remus was alone for the trip back to King’s Cross; not wanting to be stuck with James or Peter who would only pester him. He mulled over his thoughts as his head rested against the window, watching the scenery whip by. But the more he had time to think, it caused more guilt to build; they were only trying to be supportive. They cared so much, still willing to associated with someone like… him. And all he did was push them away. He didn’t deserve real mates like them.

Remus tried to distract himself: knitting, drawing — reading next year’s material, but settled on pulling out his cartridge of cigarettes. About to light one, his attention was drawn to the soft knocking on the carriage door. Lily was there, waving before coming in.

“Hey,” she said, closing the door and sitting down. “I wanted to say bye for the summer.”

He exhaled, now itching for the rush of nicotine while Lily fidgeted in her seat. He already knew why she was there.

“Sev — Snape — came to me a couple days ago…”

It was impossible to escape, wasn’t it?

“They’re mad, his theories… He’s been telling me the entire year and kept going on about this one story… wild story of you and Y/N and the other Marauders…” Lily looked up nervously.

Instead of getting angry, Remus closed his eyes, feeling himself sink further into the cushions, centring his breathing. “What did he say?”

“He’s been telling me you’re a… a...”

“Werewolf?”

She froze at the word, having to take a deep inhale and suddenly looked paler than usual. Remus wanted to jump out of the moving train. “Yes,” she stated, “But I told him to bugger off.”

Lily stopped again, meeting his eyes. “So… It’s true?”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

Lily sat straight, leaning over and even putting a hand on her chest, close to her heart. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

(Letters between Y/N and friends)

To my lovely Whiskers, I hope your summer has been grand so far. Are you sure you can’t spend time with me? It’s been so lonely. Prongs

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Dear Bambi, Unfortunately, I can’t. Mom’s dragging me to New York for the month. Something about being invited to do a special surgery. Said leaving me alone will do no good. I promise to bring you back a souvenir? How are things with Black? Whiskers

━━━༻✩༺━━━

My adoring, wonderful Whiskers, And it hasn’t. My parents are concerned. They’ve been trying to get me to talk about what happened but I can’t. Dumbledore and McGonagall have already started their punishments. He lost over 200 points for next year, got detention for half the year and he can’t try out for the Quidditch team if he wanted to. I wonder what they’ll do next. I love souvenirs! All things Muggle! Yours truly, Prongs/Bambi/James

━━━༻✩༺━━━

July 20th, 1976 Meet me in Times Square at 1 pm on the 8th. There’s a bench outside a bagel store, there’s no way you’ll miss it. Until next time, Matthew G.

━━━༻✩༺━━━

¡Hola! Greetings from Barcelona! My brothers took a few weeks off to spend time with me to come to Spain with my parents! They’re dragging me to a football game later. I heard they call it ‘soccer’ in North America. M. McKinnon

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Y/N L/N, Hello, I hope you’re having a wonderful break. Your letters are the highlight of my day and they keep me busy. So I hate to inform you that you need to stop sending me letters for now. I’m not supposed to be getting any and my parents are going to start confiscating them if I receive any more. I’m sorry. I can’t wait to see you in the fall. R.A.B

━━━༻✩༺━━━

I’m visiting Tuney with my parents in a few days. She moved to London for a clerical job in March and we’re meeting her boyfriend, Vernon! He sounds nice but she’s told me she’s nervous about me and magic around him. Lily

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Petals! I’m sure you’ll be fine! Who couldn't love you? Write back and tell me what happens!

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Whiskers, I’m with my parents up in Wales in their cottage. I was born there before having to move for my Dad’s work. Also, I think I have to get a rabbit. James always told people that I got my scars from a poorly behaved rabbit and if I’m not seen with one soon, people will start to question. Remus

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Does this mean I get to call you Moony now? Professor Moony? Wales? And that’s where that small accent comes from. It bleeds through when you’re concentrating or relaxing. And a rabbit? At least they’re cute! I’m sure you can just Transfigure a book though. Y/N

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Professor Moony? Haha, okay! And really? I never knew. I’m kind of embarrassed now. I’ve thought about that but at this point, I think it would be easier just to have one.

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Oh no! It’s nice! Gives you personality. I think it suits you well How about… Moody Moony near full moons? And Moody Moony Mondays on Mondays.

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Now you’ve gone too far. Bloody fucking Moody Moony? Have you ever heard of Mad-Eye Moody?

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Would you prefer 'my Moony' then?

━━━༻✩༺━━━

Yes, actually.

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

August 6th, 1976

“Hurry up!”

She thudded down from the top of the staircase, dragging her trunk behind while her mother sped out of the terminal door, flagging down one of the zipping yellow taxis with her luggage in hand.

It was strange, being with her mother again after almost a year apart. She hadn’t come to King’s Cross again, instead sending her a bus fare in anticipation of school ending. She hoped for some sort of recognition, any kind of sign that she was missed but was only given a side-armed hug and delved back into work.

Y/N wondered if maybe she just didn’t want her there, hoping she would get lost and never come back. She only had been on a bus in London twice, therefore almost ensuring that she would get lost and would have stayed lost if she didn’t have extra spare change to use a payphone.

Ignoring the crackle of whispers as she strode to the cab, people blatantly stared at her unnatural coloured hair, as she entered the car, slamming the door shut.

“Where ya ladies off too?” Said the driver, pulling out a map from their car door.

“Cranberry Street, Brooklyn Heights.”

It was a quiet drive, aside from the driver drumming their fingers on the steering wheel at the sound of the Bee Gees blasting in the background. She watched other cabs whipping back and forth, people going on with their days, the dirty streets and building under construction.

“Hey, mom?” She asked, reasoning now was a good time to talk about her OWL results. She’d gotten them mere seconds before leaving their house back in London and she’d been putting off looking at the results until now.

She only grunted, flicking through one of her medical journals, jotting down notes. “I don’t have time right now.”

Y/N sighed, that familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach expanded again. “It’s kind of important.”

“Not now.” She waved her hand and ended the conversation.

Thirty minutes later, the cab came to a stop as they grabbed their luggage and strolled up to the brownstone building they were renting for the month.

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

Jet lag got to her as she unwinded lounged until finally getting up from bed that morning as her mom rushed around the house. She frantically was putting on shoes, dressed impeccably sharp, no doubt in hopes to make an impression as her eyes flew across her journal. Her feet were scrambling to the door as she flung her bag over her shoulder.

“Have a good d —” And then the door slammed shut.

She stared blankly at the door for a while and then turned around, getting ready for her day. A daint drum of excitement yet nervousness built up, pushing aside that sinking feeling. Today she was going to see Matthew again.

Having a few hours to spare, Y/N walked around, marvelling at the tall buildings and lights before heading into the heart of Time Square, immediately spotting the bench outside the bagel shop. She sat, waiting for him anxiously. She made sure to wear a hat, covering any sight of hair to avoid weird stares and chatter.

But then a few minutes turned into ten and then twenty minutes later.

Slipping out the letter again to make sure, she re-read it. Time Square, at one, today… near the bagel shop…

“Where y’at?”

Her head lifted as she jumped to her feet and pulled each other into a tight hug.

“Matthew!”

His face nuzzled into the side of her neck, arms wrapped around tight as her face pressed gently into his chest. Eventually, she pulled away - arms outstretched to get a good look.

Matthew Gaplin looked different. His hair, coarse and thick, had grown. He was taller, filled out more, tan skin became even tanner from the beating sun and he filled out.

His smile was large. “S’been so long.”

She gave him a small whack!

“Ow!” He jumped back, “What’s wrong wiv ya?”

“I thought you stood me up.”

“Sorry, doing something for Mom. Had to wait on line forever.”

He looked down bashfully, now staring at the hat. His face made a disgusted look. “It’s disgusting out. Why are you wearing —” Curiously lifting the hat, his lids widened astronomically as Y/N grabbed it, covering her wild hair.

“I told you,” she hissed.

“Right the Potter sport!” He gave a full-body laugh. “Oh come on, I wanna see it again!”

But her hand clamped down on that hat to prevent him from pulling it off. “No! The Muggles keep judging —“

“Muggles?” Matthew’s brows furrowed. “The fuck is a Muggle? Sounds… demeaning.”

“Sorry, it’s what they call No-Majs.”

“Ahh,” and then he moved to loop an arm around her shoulders and continued to walk. “Too good to use ol’American terms?”

“Turned British snob.”

They laughed loudly as he took charge, showing her around the city. There was something so calming amid the chaos of New York. The bustle, low chatter and his enthusiasm made it all the better.

Soon enough, after hours of walking around, they both came to a stop in a large park as they grew hungry. Matthew disappeared for a while, leaving her alone to lay down on the soft grass before returning, holding up a brown bag with two drinks.

“Got us bagels wiv schmear.”

She mumbled out a thanks and took it from him as he sat down on the grass beside her.

“Missed ya, really.”

She shoved him playfully, his head dropping bashfully. “Shut up.”

It stayed quiet for a bit, as they listened to the birds chirping until he broke the silence again. “Ya thinkin’ ‘bout moving back eventually, right?”

“Why?”

Matthew gave her a haughty look, contemplating his words carefully. “Do ya… not know? They’re losing the war.”

Momentary terror gripped her heart but she swallowed it down fast. “Matthew,” her voice dropped, “Please, I want a fun summer… can we not talk about the war? I have more than enough time to worry later."

He wanted to keep talking, worried for his good friend but he refrained, biting down on his lip and nodded stiffly.

“So…” he thought to himself, contemplating how to change the direction of their conversation and fast. “Fess up, what’s been goin’ on over there.”

“Huh?”

“You’re telling me you haven't — what is it called? Kissing?”

“Snogging?”

He smiled. “You’re telling me you haven’t snogged anyone of those rich Old-Majs yet?”

“Nope!” She spoke too quickly and voice was a little too high.

“Liar. Ya going tell me who then?” Y/N looked down, hand going to fiddle with the fem of her clothes while Matthew shook her. “Come on! Tell me!”

“Fine! His name is Sirius Black.”

Matthew's eyes widened in recognition as he sat upright. “You don’t mean the Black family? Gawd! No way!”

“What?”

“And ya don’t even know!” Matthew was full of amusement. “They’re one of the oldest wizarding families out there! Are you still wiv him?”

Y/N stopped, trying to conceal a chuckle. She didn’t have it in her to lie anymore. “No! He almost got me killed.”

“Ha. Ha, very clever. Fine, don’t tell me.”

“You? Anything exciting?”

Matthew snorted. “Fought over a fin if that counts as exciting.”

“You know that’s not what I'm talking about,” she teased.

He abruptly became very serious and it had Y/N sitting up straighter. Matthew breathed in, this time not looking at her but instead at his metal pop can. “I’ve… had a tumble wiv a few... didn’t matter their… genders.”

It took a second for his words to click in but when it did, her mouth fell open and saw his face fall as she pulled him into a tight hug. “I don’t care who you cop, just be safe and have fun.”

He mumbled into her shoulder. “Been rehearsing that since I knew you were visitin’.”

“Love ya, could never judge you.” He tried to look insulted from the babying but prickled with tears before wiping them away quickly.

“Bless ya!”

“You alright though?”

“Now that I know your reaction, never betta. Now, you talk, enough ‘bout me.”

After making sure he was okay, Y/N prattled about Hogwarts. Matthew would pop in a few times, asking her to clarify or ask what words the British used — he often called her his ‘British insight.’ She rambled much about her day, her new friends but made sure to leave out a few details. Matthew became peculiarly silent through most of her speech. It wasn’t like him to not try to speak up, but he looked at her with something she’d only seen a few times prior.

Matthew stared at her for a long time, analyzing with underlying adoration. “What did them Brits do to ya?”

She looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “Ya sound different.” He says calmly, going to sip on his pop. “Talk funny.”

“Tawk funny,” she mocked and earned a shove. “Different? How so?”

“Everything ‘bout you seems different. Y’look happier,” he smiles, although there was a twinge of hurt. “Talk softer, look different — move differently and ya voice sounds different… but the same.”

She takes a bit of her food. “I hope that isn’t a bad thing.”

Matthew smiles gently, sheepish but there. “Not at all.”

She smiled back. Matthew always knew how to make her smile and it felt good, normal.

“Happy looks good on ya.”

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

She finally sat down, tired from the long day she spent wandering the city. But it wasn’t long until a tapping sound came from the window. Celeste was there, waiting with a letter in her beak. She walked up to her, letting her fly inside and opened the letter.

Got my OWL results. Outstanding in Astronomy, DADA, Charms, Transfigs. Exceeds Expectations in everything else but an Acceptable in Potions. Moony

She re-read that last part. Remus getting Acceptable in Potions? Her attention travelled to the stark white envelope peeking out from the side pocket of her carry-on. She marched up to it, ripping it open and scanned the paper.

Outstanding in Transfiguration, Potions and Herbology, Arithmancy. Exceeds Expectations in everything else except Poor in History of Magic. She cringed at that.

She immediately got up from her seat. Rushing over to the master bedroom, peeking her head in. “Mom?” She said quietly, “Can I talk to you.”

“Didn’t I tell you I was busy?” Her voice cut through. “It’s not the time to be a nuisance.”

A scorching feeling of anger thrummed through her but kept her voice low and steady. “That was a few days ago.”

"My answer didn't change."

Any semblance of calm vanished. “It’s about my OWLs. My future. I need some sort of guidance.”

“I wouldn’t understand them,” she sighed and peered up. There was an odd expression, borderlining on confusion and something else. “It’s not the same. I’m not a… witch like you are. I don’t know how to help you.”

“I’ll make it into No-Maj terms?” Y/N’s voice was tight and came rushing over to where she sat on the couch. And laid out her examination results. “Look, an O is the same as getting an A! It’s the highest grade you can get. And here,” she pointed, “My teacher, Professor Slughorn, invites me to parties because of my work in Potions class. I’m one of his top students.”

She glanced at her mom excitedly but was met with a look of annoyance and slight judgement. But she continued, “A-and in Herbology I'm doing excellent too! I was becoming interested in becoming a Healer. I told you in my letters. It’s similar to being —”

“I’m sorry,” her mother said but it didn’t have any trace of guilt or sorrow, “I’m busy and you’re getting in the way of work — my achievements — that you know are important.”

“Are mine not important?”

A thick, profound silence filled the space between them. Everything about the connotation had her averting her body, feeling the sinking in her chest explode. From the war, traumatic near death experience and her mother's constant aloof nature, it was her cracking point.

Snatching the OWLs results, she walked out the door, shutting it gently before diving into her room; throwing the covers over her head.

All the New-Maj and No-Maj children were told stories of the Boogeyman. To Y/N, it felt comparable to reverting to a small child as she tucked herself into a tight ball. She recalled watching all the other children running up their parents, being roped with large hugs and smiles, surrounded with infinite quantities of love as they left the school playground. She remembered being envious, wanting to have two parents as the images of the Boogeyman drew near.

There was an overwhelming sense to scream — to cry out for guidance as the knot in her stomach grew. Instead of her mother coming to her rescue — to reassure, to give any sense of security or safety while other parents would scare off the Boogeyman or monsters ready to nip at their children’s toes under the bed, Y/N was left in the dark as all sense of relief or love vanished. It left her vulnerable, exposed to the monsters lurking in the dark.

Her mother may have not been physically absent but it sure felt like it.

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

Slang dictionary:

Fin = $5 / five dollar bill Bagels with schmear = bagels with cream cheese Wait on line = the same as 'Wait in line' Pop = Canadian slang for soda / soft drinks Sport / old sport = (depending on the context) a term of endearment similar to buddy, pal, friend

112 notes · View notes

prettyboyreid · 4 years

Text

can you read to me? (I)

part two

Even after a silly fight, the reader can’t seem to go to sleep without Matthew next to her.

College!Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Warnings: language, angst

Word Count: 2,884

It had been four hours. Four, gruesome, long, tiring hours since you first opened the Statistics book to study for your final. While you were almost sure you were going to pass, an anxious feeling still overwhelmed you that you weren’t going to. It made you feel sick.

You picked up your phone and checked the time. 1:54 AM. You let out a soft groan, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands before deciding to pack everything up for the night. You closed all of your books, bookmarked your notes on Google Docs, and made sure all of your pens were closed before pushing yourself out of the uncomfortable chair New York University provided for each dorm. You made your way to the bed covered in a heavy duvet and a weighted blanket before trying to let yourself fall asleep.

You closed your eyes, you cuddled up to one of your pillows, and even tried counting backwards from one hundred.

Yet you were still wide awake.

You checked the time again out of frustration as you felt your mind running a mile a minute, letting out a huff as the neon red letters of your alarm clock read 2:28. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as a thought - a terrible one at that - ran through your mind, grabbing your phone and slipping on a pair of socks before scurrying out of the quiet dorm.

The dorm halls seemed to stretch out much longer than you’d like, feeling like you were walking down a highway for hours. You could’ve been convinced easily you walked the entire length of the campus.

But eventually, you reached a room on the other end of the hall. A banal door with nothing but the numbers 628 printed on them. It seemed foreign to you, like you had lost all memory of the dorm since you last stepped into it two weeks ago.

“Jesus Christ, Matthew, I was studying with him! Jack’s top of the class and I needed some help!” you whisper-shouted at him. His roommate, thankfully, went home for the weekend, but you didn’t want to risk any of his neighbors waking up at the ungodly hour of three in the morning.

“It is a big deal whenever he’s practically pulling you into his lap, Y/N,” he said, his hands running back through his messy curls. You could tell he hadn’t showered or styled his hair that day from how messy it was, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t one of your favorite looks on him.

You huffed in annoyance and folded your arms across your chest, sitting on his bed as you listened to him voice his grievances. “Do you not trust me enough to even study with a friend? How many times do I have to remind you that I love you? Not him, not anyone else, only you,” you preached to him, but given your tone of voice, you could see on his face that he didn’t believe you. He probably thought you saying it sounded more like a chore than a feeling.

“Besides, you didn’t see me getting all pissed off when you hung out with Lydia at that party last week. She was practically hanging off of you, and I never said a thing,” you reminded him, which just earned you an eye roll from the tall boy as he leaned against his desk, his palm pressed into the cheap wood.

“That was different. She was drunk and I didn’t want her to fall over or have some guy she doesn’t know take her home,” he defended himself, watching his carotid pulse in his forehead as he tried to keep his voice down. You scoffed at his excuses, raising your eyebrows slightly as if to ask if he had anything else to say.

“She literally ogles you every time you walk past her! She told her friends that she couldn’t wait for you to break up with me so she could have her turn!”

“She was drunk and she’s been my friend since freshman year, Y/N! People say things they don’t mean when they’re drunk,” he groaned, holding his hands behind his neck as he let out a heavy sigh. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he carefully picked out his next sentences word by word.

“This isn’t about me, it’s about that jackass who keeps trying to hit on you when I’m not around,” he said, folding his arms across his chest as he paced in front of you. You watched as his bones pressed against his skin out of anger, painting his knuckles white as they gripped onto his upper arms. “How do you think I felt when my friends texted me to tell me you were out with him instead of you telling me?” he asked, his voice dropping from angry to hurt.

“I only didn’t tell you because I knew you’d freak! Just like you are right now!” you exclaimed, standing up from your place on the bed. “And I don’t know how you felt, because I’m not you. But I can tell you how I felt when your ‘best friend since freshman year’ was clinging off of you like her life depended on it, and you can tell me how close I am,” you remarked, standing in front of him as if to challenge him. If it weren’t for your significant height difference, you probably wouldn’t feel so inferior at that moment.

He let out a huff and sat back on the bed where you were moments before, letting his hands sink into the firm mattress behind him. His expressions dropped to something unreadable. “So tell me then.”

You let your eyebrows knit together, your arms still folded across your chest as you barely looked down at him. “I felt like she was going to drag you off to some trashy room of the frat house and sleep with you, and you’d forget who I was for fifteen minutes. I felt like you were more interested in her than me, and that I wasn’t enough for you right then,” you spoke honestly, not letting your emotions affect your facial expressions. You couldn’t seem weak, not right now.

You could tell he was holding back on a scoff or an eye roll, but you decided to let it go for now and just let him talk. “You know I’d never sleep with her, Y/N,” he said firmly. You couldn’t even hold back your own eye roll, picking your jacket up from the hook by his door, slightly annoyed that that was the part he had picked to remark on.

“I’d never sleep with Jack, either,” you said, watching him quickly scramble up from his seat the second he realized I was about to leave.

“Wait, wait, wait, Y/N-” he started, but the longer you watched and waited for him to finish whatever thought he had, the more you realized he didn’t have anything to say. He just wanted you to stay.

You wished that you could.

“Matthew, I can’t stay around with you if you can’t trust me the way I trust you,” you told him. You made your way to the door, opening it before leaving and slamming it behind you.

For a split second, you saw his face. His beautiful, pained face, tears pooling in his bright hazel eyes.

And it broke your heart.

You knocked softly in a pattern Matthew had taught you, Morse code for “EAP.” He wanted to have a secret code for just the two of you so he knew whether or not to answer the door, so he settled on the abbreviation for one of his favorite authors in the world - Edgar Allan Poe.

You could see the light from his room seeping beneath the crack at the bottom of the door, and you hoped it was him and not his roommate. After a few minutes of silence, you knocked in the distinct pattern again, running a hand back through your slightly knotted hair as you waited patiently.

You heard the soft pitter-patter of large socked feet of the hardwood flooring coming from the room, and then the unlocking of the heavy locks that were newly installed in the dorms last year. You let out a soft sigh as the door opened for you, taking in the sight you’ve missed for two weeks - for fourteen days, three hundred thirty six hours.

Matthew didn’t look great. Far from it, if you were being honest with yourself. You wanted to believe it was because of the stress of finals, but you knew that it probably wasn’t true. His eyes that were normally accompanied by dark circles were worse than normal, the beautiful brown color you loved glazed over and dull. His hair was messy and unkempt, and despite being over six feet tall, he seemed shrunken into himself, smaller than someone of his stature would be. You highly doubted that he had gotten much sleep, knowing how hard and personal he usually took these matters.

“Are you okay?” was the first thing he asked. He didn’t scold you for knocking on his door in the middle of the night. He didn’t spit at you and tell you to leave him alone or go fuck yourself and the smart kid one floor up. He wanted to make sure you were alright.

It gave you a warm feeling in your chest that you hadn’t felt since you slammed this same boring door in his face.

“I… I, uh, can’t sleep,” you mustered out, your words slightly slurred from the lack of sleep you’d gotten the past few days. You wound the hem of your loose t-shirt around your fingers, waiting for some sort of response from him before he opened his door just a bit more to allow you in.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked, closing the door behind you once you were inside. You couldn’t help but notice his roommate’s side was cleared out, so it was just the two of you in the cold, surprisingly clean room. You let out a soft sigh of relief, grateful that he had packed up and left sometime before now. Selfishly, you just wanted him all to yourself right now.

“Can you read to me?” you asked in a hushed voice, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Matthew had the best reading voice. You assumed it was from all of his years in theater, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he had practiced elaborating on voices in his spare time. Every time you spent the night in his room or he spent the night in yours, he would tell you a story to help you fall asleep. Most of the time, he made the stories up on the fly, and they could be so ridiculous that you laughed too much to get any sleep. But your favorite times were when he recited Edgar Allan Poe stories to you. He tried to make them sound spooky and scary, but his voice was so soothing that it lulled you to sleep every single time.

“I know it’s probably weird to ask that of you right now, and it might be really awkward too. I can just head back-”

He cut me off with a silent nod, getting into his bed and turning off the lamp before patting the space beside him.

You were hesitant at first, despite it being the entire reason you came down here, before crawling in next to him. His arms immediately went around you, his touch being as light as a feather since he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. When you rested your head on his chest and held him tightly, he let his grip tighten around you in a more protective manner.

“What do you wanna hear, angel?” he asked softly, his voice faltering at the nickname like he had just swore in front of his parents.

The last thing he wanted to do was make you uneasy, and despite you coming to his room in the middle of the night and cuddling up to him like you were about to lose him at sea, he didn’t want to do anything to make you leave.

He couldn’t let himself make that mistake again.

“Can you read me Annabel Lee?” you asked quietly, barely above a whisper. He leaned his head back against the bed frame, letting out a soft sigh as he nodded. You heard him take a quiet, deep breath before he slowly began.

“It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me…”

His voice was slow and steady, dramatizing each word when necessary while keeping the same pace and tone. His voice was melodic, and had almost put you to sleep as you listened. You relished in the trace-like state his voice drew you to, your grip instinctively tightening around him to keep him close.

“I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

“And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.”

You looked up at him carefully, trying not to disturb him as best as possible so he didn’t lose his place. Despite him having the story memorized by heart, he seemed to frequently get distracted too easily. You noticed that he was focused on something in the corner, and you couldn’t quite tell what it was. You let your head fall back to his chest, your hand resting just beneath the hem of his gray t-shirt as he continued.

“The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

“But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we—

Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;”

Your gaze finally adjusted to the dark room as you found what he was looking at finally; it was a framed picture of the two of you, one you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. You were kissing his cheek and he had his arms wrapped tightly around you, similar to how you were right now, wearing a smile brighter than any star you’ve ever seen. Someone else had taken it, on the steps of the main NYU building. It looked like your last day of junior year, before you spent the summer with him in Vegas.

That was, without a doubt, one of the best times of your life.

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea—

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

You felt your heart shatter all over again as you heard his voice begin to break at the final stanza, feeling one single drop fall onto your hand that rested high on his chest.

You both pretended that you didn’t notice it.

You let your eyes flutter shut, replaying the sound of his voice in your head over and over again as it lulled you to sleep.

As you felt yourself finally overcome with relaxation and drowsiness, you let your eyes squeeze shut tightly as he pulled the blankets over you, making sure you had just enough to be comfortable but not too many to be hot.

You couldn’t help but relish in the feeling of your heart swelling in your chest at how much he cared to make you comfortable. You felt his soft, plump lips press to your head moments before your well-deserved rest overcame you, hearing one last thing from the voice so soft and sweet that lulled you to sleep countless times before.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, sniffling as quietly as possible to do his best not to wake you. You wanted to say something to him, but you could barely even keep your eyes open. Just before you felt yourself slip into the abyss of slumber, you heard him whisper something - mostly for himself, but you knew exactly who it was meant for.

“Please don’t leave me.”

409 notes · View notes

ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

Text

Undercover - Chapter 15

Chapter Selection

"What do we got now Garcia", I took at seat between Hotch and Morgan.

"Okay today we have a case in one Reno, Nevada. This is Henry Baxter he was found yesterday by some hikers." We all look at the crime scene photo and Morgan speaks up.

"What makes the police think this isn't just a murder." Reid takes a closer look at the details and makes the connection to a previous case. Garcia starts to speak but he cuts her off.

"This looks like a case from 25 years ago. There were bodies of abusive fathers, this unsub was active from 84 to 89. After that he just disappeared." Rossi had a look of realization.

"I remember that case Gideon and I worked on it. We got close to catching him but there was never another body. The FBI called us back to Quantico."

"We'll talk more about it on the jet, let's go." Everyone stands up and go for their go bags. I get into the SUV with Hotch, we leave first before the team. The drive was quiet, we did talk about the notes coming to the our house and my ex. What we would do and if I'd tell the team if the problem escalated.

We got out the car and walked to the jet going inside. I take a seat in the back by the window, Hotch sitting next me. "Sooo", he turned his attention from the case file. "Can you talk to Rossi about that trip, we all need one", a smile tugging at his lips. "I'll talk to him", I let out a small 'yay'.

Aaron glanced out the window, he didn't see anyone. He leaned forward and pressed a gentile kiss on my lips. We didn't notice the already present, Spencer and Rossi standing the aisle. Aaron and I looked at them awkwardly. "I've seen you do worse no need to feel embarrassed." Spencer sat down and I felt my face getting red hot. Slightly remembering the night in the back of Spencer's car.

The rest of the team got there not long after, we waited till the last half hour of the flight to go over the case again. "Ok so first start with the dumping grounds. He displaying them, setting them in an upright position", Rossi finished speaking.

"The stabbing and slicing is the outlet for sexual release. People that use a knife usually more introverted." Morgan stated, Garcia went on the tv.

"Ok there was just another body found an hour ago, I just got wind of it. What do you guys need from me." Garcia finished then Hotch started. "Garcia I need you to look for men that are 50-60 that have lived in the Reno area since the 80's."

"Look for that and any men between the age range that went to prison, he stopped killing for 26 years that doesn't just happen." JJ said while flipping through the case file. "Garcia I think that enough for now."

Garcia ended the call and Hotch stood up, "Rossi and Morgan go to the most recent crime scene. Emily an Reid go to the victims house, talk tot he families. Y/n, JJ, and I will go to precinct to set up."

Hotch went to the back of the plane to get a cup of coffee. I put my hand o his arm and turn to him, "Did you talk to Rossi." He finishes pouring his cup. "Yes", I smile and walk away to talk me seat.

The plane lands JJ, Hotch, and I all go to the precinct.

_____________________________

The case took about a week to solve; the unsub was Matthew Ford. He was in prison for 27 years due to attempt murder. We were on our way back on the jet, I was to the right of Aaron. We were on crowded in the center of the jet.

Morgan was talking to Emily, JJ to Reid. Aaron was doing paperwork, his hand sitting on my thigh rubbing small circles. I had my eyes closed trying to get rid of my headache. Rossi was sitting in front of me.

Aaron took out his phone and texted Rossi. He read the text and stared at him. I shrugged and he began talking.

"Its come to my attention that when I mentioned the vacation all of you took me serious", we all said yes. "So you all want me to pay for it."

I looked at Rossi, "Yeah so were we going. I really need this, you'll be helping all of us out. We're so stressed." I was somewhat over exaggerating. But we all did the vacation and Rossi has the money to do it. Hotch started talking, "Dave if it makes you feel better we can you this as an excuse to 'team bond'."

Rossi glanced at all of us, "Fine but I choose where we're going." Yays were spread throughout the jet. I feel like I needed this the most. My mind was constantly on my ex, Hayley, combined with the stress of the job and what happened with Carmine I was feeling overwhelmed.

Some nights I'd wake up covered in sweat and other I wouldn't be able to sleep at all. It was all still happening and made me feel useless. From the looks of it Aaron didn't have any problems with it.

We got back to Quantico and Rossi had already made the plans and the location.

"We're gonna go to Honolulu, surprisingly I've never been there. We leave at 8am and yes I bought your tickets but I expect to be paid back." Rossi stepped into his office and closed the door. Morgan, JJ, and Emily all gathered their stuff and went home to pack. I sat at my desk waiting for Aaron to finish the files that remained on his desk.

My eyelids were starting to get droopy and I put my head down. "Why don't you go home and get some sleep", I picked up my head and saw Spencer sitting at his desk. "I would but Hotch drove me, I that you went home."

"Nope, when we left for the case there were some files that still needed to be done. You know I don't like to leave things unfinished." I smiled a bit putting my head back down.

"So, how are you and Hotch?" I didn't look at him. "Fine I just wish he'd hurry up!" I mumbled slightly yelling the last part. Spencer was still talking to me but everything started to fade away.

I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder. Rossi stood above me, "Hotch told me to wake you up he's almost done." I nodded still tired and couldn't make out words. He walked through the glass doors and went home.

I stood up and stretched walking into Hotchs office, "I'm almost down give me 5 minutes."

"Ok", I mumbled rubbing my eyes and laying down on the couch. I felt drained but this time I couldn't go back to sleep. "Annnd done, ok we can go." I stood up from the couch and held my hand out. He grabbed it and we walked to the car.

Aaron got into the drivers seat and started the car. II got in and put my hand on his thigh. He looked down at the gesture, "Thought I was supposed to d that to you."

I giggled, "Deal with it." I squeezed his thigh and he was stifling a laugh.

When we got home I was somewhat awake and dropped all of my stuff off at the door dragging my way through the house and to the bed. I slummed down, not bothering to change my clothes, I still had to pack.

Aaron wrapped his arms around me and we drifted off.

_____________________

Aaron packed my things for me and we rushed out the door. We almost overslept and we sped to the airport. We made right before they closed the gate on us, Rossi had bought everyone first class tickets and we sat down. "What the hell took you so long", Emily looked back at us. I glanced at Aaron, "I overslept and Hotch had to bring Jack to Jessica's.

She turned back around and put on her head phones. Reid sat in the middle row reading a book, JJ and Morgan were talking a few rows ahead.

The flight was around 13 hours and they were spent looking out the window and reading. We got there around 9pm and went straight to the hotel. Rossi got everyone a separate room except for me and Hotch.

"Ok in the morning I wanna go to the beach. I need back my tan, can't get that in Virginia." Aaron chuckled in my ear as we were about to go to bed. "Ok sounds like a plan."

"Night."

"Night princess."

______________________

I woke up to a call, I didn't wake up and instead Aaron answered. It was Spencer, "Hey are you gonna come down or do I have to get you." Aaron didn't answer instead he hummed. "Okay fine sleep in", he hung up the phone.

Aaron nestled his face on my back and mumbled, "We gonna get up." I hummed in agreement. "Come on its 10:30am." That made me shoot my eyes open, I turned to look at him. "Alright come on."

We got changed putting on my black two piece, got some towels and snacks and headed for the beach. When we got there, the sun was blazing ahead. There were people lining the beach with umbrellas and food.

Aaron called the team while I took off towards the water, "Hey I finally got up. I met y/n at the beach. Are you guys coming?"

"Yeah we'll be there." Emily hung up the phone and she told everyone else to go to the beach. I was looking back at Aaron while he sat there looking slightly awkward. I dipped my whole body in the water getting my hair wet.

I walked out of the water and over to Aaron. I reached my hand out, "Do I have to beg you." A smirk formed on his lips, "Yeah you know what that'd be nice." I bent over and grabbed his hand pulling him up to me. "You're gonna go in the water. If you like it or not."

He moved his mouth to my ear, "You gonna make me." My breathing hitched, I looked over Hotchs shoulder and saw the team. "I could but that would mean I wouldn't be able to see this." The whole team rushed up behind his and started pushing his into the water dipping his head under.

When he came back up his hair was sticking to his forehead a bit. His body more specifically his chest was glistening in the sun from the water. He looked hot as hell. I just wanted to jump on him right there.

"Emily come here!", Morgan called out putting her on his shoulders. "Let go, come on y/n you think you can take this." I looked at the sight ahead of me and I started to laugh. "Yes I think I can take that." I brought Aaron over to me getting on his shoulders. His hands squeezing my thighs keeping me on.

The guys practically charged at each other. My arms going out and almost knocking them down. Emily dipped to the side blocking the shove. I came back strong no pushing her off but made her back up enough so she fell of herself.

Her body crashing into the water and Aaron and I brought our hands to the air and getting a well deserved high five. "Aww there always next time Derek." I was laughing; I was still on Aaron shoulders we didn't even notice we were still holding on to each other till Spence pointed it out.

He swam over to us, "Y/n just staying you might wanna get down cause there starting to look at you." My eyes went wide and I hopped off. I dragged Aaron under the water will me placing a kiss on his lips before we went back up for air.

There were two people I still hadn't seen. JJ and Rossi were staying on the beach under the umbrella they had brought.

We were at the beach for about 4 hours. "I'm going to head back; you guys be free to do what you want." Dave called out walking away. "You guys wanna grab drinks", JJ, Emily and Spencer all raised there hands. They stood there staring at Aaron and I.

Don't look at me like that, last time I got drunk the day was like hell. I'm willing but only tomorrow not tonight I wanna at last enjoys a few days." They nodded looking at Aaron.

"I think I just grab some food and go tot sleep; maybe talk to Jack a bit." They understood and walked away. As we were walking to the street and to the hotel I spoke. "What are the plans for tonight cause I'm not letting you do that." I grabbed my hand and we headed for the hotel.

"Well I'm thinking that tonight we head out." He stopped talking and left it at that. "Annnd?" He shook his head, "It's a surprise."

"Ok fine hope it's worth it." When we got to the hotel my hair was dry but smelled like the ocean. I got undressed and hopped in the shower. Aaron followed after me; both of us washing off the salt water from our hair and bodies.

We got out and ordered some food Aaron went out to get it form the restaurant. He brought it back and we ate. He put on tv and I fell asleep from the day in the sun. I was curled up on the couch and Aaron carried me to the bed laying me down.

He covered me with the blanket. He set and alarm for 3am seeing as it was only 8pm when I fell asleep I'd get a decent amount of sleep. Aaron wasn't tired yet so he stayed on his phone scrolling through. He called Jack and he told him about his day at school and about the homework he had to do.

_____________________________

I woke up and it was 12:30am I turned off the alarm I know that he set. I sat up against the headboard with me head in my hands slowly waking up. I felt a hand creep up my hand, I glanced over and I felt Aaron start stir. "You up?", he mumbled something but I couldn't hear him.

"What was that?", I was smiling to my self. "I said yea baby. Can you get dressed so we can go." I nodded even though he couldn't see it. Getting up I put on a pair was sweatpants and a white crop with flip flops. Aaron stood and threw on some clothes and we left.

Aaron still didn't tell me where we were going so I followed next to him. After about an hour of walking I finally gave in, "Ok where the hell are we going." I said through an annoyed laugh.

"Alright close your eyes", I covered my eyes and reached out for his hand so I knew where to go. We walked for a about 10 more minutes. I heard a gentile fall and stream of water. It was running down on what seemed like the rocks and grass below.

The air started to smell damp and I heard the crushing of water rushing. I had a feeling of where he brought me. I had mentioned it to him a few moths ago.

"Open them." I uncovered my face and I was right. There was waterfall right in front of me. It was running off of a cliff at least 100ft high. There was pool at the bottom where the water crowded and flowed to different streams. The moon reflecting off of the crystal blue water.

I looked up and the full moon was shining brightly. I lit up everything below, the stars danced in the sky along side it. "How'd I do", He said gazing do at me. When I turned to look at him the moon was shining in his eyes at the right angle making them look like pool of honey.

"Honey you did great", I was smiling through my teeth as I swung my arms around his neck.

"You know what we have to do now right", I knew what he was thinking. "Okay maybe not all that, I know what you wanna do and you're a hell of a lot more confident that I am in that aspect. I'm not doing it."

"Awe come on it'll be great and you know it." He started undressing and stepping into the water.

"Come on it'll be quick", I nodded he grinned sitting on the edge waiting for me to get in more. As he fully submerged he pulled me onto his lap. I was giggling till he pressed our lips together; his hand going directly on my hips.

My hands snaked up his chest to the back off neck. The warm water around us, waving around; set us in the mood even more. He started to move the hands that were on my hip and slowly grinded me on his growing bulge.

He moved his hands and pulled off my underwear and threw them out the water. I moved his boxers down; he rose to pull his cock our. It stood up, my pussy going around it still grinding. "Stop teasing me little girl." He lifted my up and put his tip in my pussy letting me adjust.

I started to bounce up and down on his cock. I held on to his broad shoulders keeping my balance. "God damn y/n", he groaned out. My edge slowly approaching. I clenched around him making him feel every inch of his thrusts.

My breathing started to falter, "Aar-." I was growing tired of bouncing and Aaron hands returned to my hips assisting me. He lifted me up before slamming me down on his dick. He hit my g spot repeatedly. I took his hand off my hip and brought it to my clit.

I was full of pleasure and the look of us in the blue water, the mist from the waterfall, and the way the moon was reflecting of him made him look like and actual fucking god.

I moved my hands from his shoulders to his neck and into his hair. Grabbing tightly on his hair and pulling his head back to look up at me. I smile formed on his face. I dipped my head down and littered his neck with kisses.

Forming small hickys along his jaw. “Fuck y/n”, he groaned out getting closer to his orgasm.

I could feel him twitching inside me, "Cum for me." I released around his and I could feel him fill me up. We stayed there catching our breath, "We should probably move before someone sees us." He laughed into my neck and pulled out.

It was 5am, "We should head back." we got out of the poll of water and grabbed our clothes; we headed back to the hotel.

__________________

@mac99martin @appleblossoms-posts @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @oreogutz @marie1115 @wanniiieeee

#aaron #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner #Thomas Gibson #hotch #SSA HOTCHNER #aaron hotchner smut

30 notes · View notes

twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

June, 1976 (WITT One-Shot)

A/N: If you want to remain in the taglist pls interact with this one-shot even if you haven’t read book 4-5 yet. A like or a comment is fine, the people who don’t want to continue reading obvsly do not interact and I’ll delete from the taglist :) -Danny

Words: 2,590

Series’ Masterlist

Emily was tired, but she'd spent all day overthinking and she was done, it was time to grow up.

She could hear Lily Evans' voice ushering Severus Snape away, he'd been coming around for several hours during the day trying to apologize, but he'd finally crossed a line.

"It's not your fault, you know?"

Matthew's voice caught her attention, he'd stopped at the foot of the stairs, one hand propped on the wall.

"Snape and Evans have been fighting for months now, I think it's because of what he's been doing with the Slytherins... you know, the cult stuff."

Emily averted her gaze to the fireplace.

"I know..."

Matthew hesitated, he'd promised himself that he wouldn't go back to being Emily's therapist, but something was different this time, it wasn't her usual kind of sulking.

"Are you okay?"

She looked at him over her shoulder and frowned.

"I'm not the one who got called 'mudblood' by a close friend."

"No, you weren't," He admitted. "Which is why it's so strange to see you all sad."

"I'm not sad."

"Is this about James?"

He didn't want to know, but alas, he'd asked.

"No," She made a face. "I don't think I care about him that way anymore."

"It's easier said than done," Matthew crossed his arms, his shoulder now leaning on the archway of the stairs.

"What do you want, Ruddy?" Emily groaned.

"I don't want anything from you," The boy replied. "But I have the feeling that you need to talk."

"I do," She said. "Not with you, though."

Matt nodded, he sighed.

"Good luck, then, have a good night."

"'Night."

Emily watched him disappear up the stairs, she didn't know why, but the memory of his burning gaze before he kissed her came back then, his intense determination as he held her closer... That moment Emily had found herself unable to move away, to say no. She wished she had his courage to just do stuff even when he was intimidated by them, she needed that kind of bravery tonight.

Lily Evans entered the tower two minutes later, Emily stood up abruptly and the redhead came to a halt.

For a moment none of them spoke, then Lily's face showed tons of fatigue.

"What now? Is it your turn to call me a stuck-up bore because I didn't agree to go out with Potter?"

Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Can we talk?" She asked shyly. "I promise it's not a trick... I'm sorry."

Emily's behaviour towards her was usually hostile, tonight her voice was gentle, and even a little afraid.

"You're sorry?"

"I don't expect you to believe me," Emily continued, lowering her gaze. "I know you and Snape were close — I don't understand how can you like him... listen I suck at apologies, can't you just say it's alright so we can go to bed?"

Lily crossed her arms, standing straighter.

"No, I think I want you to try harder."

Emily groaned, she sat down heavily and started to think her words carefully, Lily inched closer.

"Boys can be cruel when they're not thinking — Anyone, really... I've been brutal myself — Matthew and I almost stopped being friends a few months ago, because I don't like talking about my feelings," She laughed dryly. "I don't know what is it about today that it just... I don't want to be a tormentor my whole life, let alone to someone who is... tolerable. I'm sorry for making your life a living hell these past few years."

Lily sat down, although she kept the seat between them empty to keep some distance.

"You didn't make my life a living hell," She replied. "I... can admit you're a bit clever... even likeable — that last match when you threw Lewis a bludger after he called you a midget... it was kind of funny."

"The boys walked me everywhere that week, they thought Ernest was going to try and get back at me," Emily bit her lip, but she was now smiling. "I mean, I lived in fear for days! Thinking he would spike my drink at some point with poison or something... Until Matthew cornered him outside D.A.D.A. class one day, poor Lewis... he looked so small in comparison..."

"Anyone looks small next to Matthew, he's a giant," Lily grinned. "Well, if it's any consolation, I was planning on murdering you in a much classier manner than poison, but since you've apologized, I guess I won't have to kill you after all."

Emily snorted, her eyes lingered on Lily, who looked like she'd been crying for most of the day, and yet still had enough energy to sit down and talk with the girl she'd detested for the last four years.

"Why are you being nice?" She asked in annoyance. "I mean I'm glad you're kind of accepting my apology, but I thought you'd be a bit colder, walking away before I could even finish..."

"What kind of person do you think I am?" Lily raised a brow, with the orange light coming from the fireplace her green eyes looked far more intense than usual. "If I'm honest, you should thank Remus... he's tried to convince me that you lot are far better than you look..."

Emily sighed, when she was young she'd do mischief for fun, but now that she was older, and considering all the weird stuff that was happening outside the school, she was starting to think that maybe her group of friends were indeed changing for the best.

"I'm going to be honest with you too, Evans," The girl took a deep breath. "Being the only girl in my friend group is turning out to be pure torture. I'm in desperate need of a girlfriend."

Lily's mouth twitched a bit, but she didn't laugh.

"What makes you think I want to be your friend?"

"Oh, I don't think you want to," She raised a brow. "But maybe if we're on good terms I'd be able to ask you for a tampon without having to swallow my pride first."

Lily did laugh at this, she shook her head. "Holy Merlin, Sultens, you're loopy."

"You would be too if you were seated next to Sirius every day!" She paused. "So... are you willing to make peace?"

Lily examined her carefully, four long years of quarrels sat between them, but a lifetime of friendship could be ahead if Emily was truly sorry. She was a nice girl, and really smart too, she was annoying only when she was taunting Severus, and he was no longer her friend.

Lily stretched out her hand.

"Very well, but if you go back the deal is over and we'll be less than strangers, understood?"

"Sure."

She retreated her hand before Emily could grab it.

"Hang on — this is not Potter's idea, right? You're not trying to be my friend just so I date him later?"

"Lily, if anything I hope you and James never date," Emily snickered. "Nothing personal, you're just way too good for him."

"...Alright."

They shook hands, she'd meant what she said about it not being personal. James was a boy, a very silly one at that, and even though they were really close friends, Emily was no longer a blind supporter of his doings.

Funnily enough, this seemed to be related to Matthew, she couldn't stop thinking about that kiss! Merlin, he was a good kisser...

She shook the thought away, now was not the time for nonsense.

"I'm very honoured to be your acquaintance, Evans," Emily grinned.

"Call me Lily. Only Professors call me Evans... and Potter, but you know I hate that."

"Got it, Lils."

July 1996

"...I don't think this is right," Mel tilted her head. "Brownies are mean to be brown... not pitch-black."

"You burned them," Harry was standing behind them with his arms crossed, clearly upset.

"How could you burn them, Erick? They were in there for five minutes!"

"Are you sure..." Erick stabbed the mixture with a knife and made a face. "Ugh — they're still liquid in the middle!"

"How the fuck did you do this?"

"I thought it would work just the same if I doubled the heat and put less time," Erick sulked. "Ovens are weird."

"This is why we told you to stay out of it," Harry replied. "You don't know how muggle stuff work."

"I do know!"

"Then why did you burn the brownies?"

"Don't fight," Mel intervened, grabbing the platter and throwing its contents away. "Oh well, at least we ruined my birthday cake and not someone else's..."

"That's not okay," Harry frowned. "You should have a proper cake."

Mel looked at him and grinned. "I'll eat yours, then."

"How's everything going in here?" Emily walked in, behind her Lupin followed.

"Uncle Lu!" Mel rushed over to his side and hugged him, the man chuckled. "You came!"

"Well, hadn't been around for your birthday in a long time, I thought you'd like it," He said, lovingly patting her back.

"I do," She beamed. "We kind of ruined the cake, though, so we should buy doughnuts or something."

"It's a good thing I brought this, then," Lupin lifted his bag and placed it on the table, inside there was a beautifully adorned red velvet cake.

"You just saved my birthday!"

Harry and Erick shared a moody expression and grumbled complaints, Lupin laughed.

"The kids insisted on doing the cakes this year," Emily explained. "I told them it was not an easy job, but they insisted."

"Mel and I have done this before, Erick was the one who wanted to be in charge when he can't even make tea without magic," Harry glared at him.

"Muggles stuff are too complicated, alright?" He huffed.

"I don't mind," Mel said without paying attention to them, she was still beyond happy with her uncle's presence. "I wanted to give my mum a break, Leggie's been a bit hard to handle lately..."

"Is he?" Lupin looked at the little boy Emily was holding. "Is he ill?"

"No, he just cries a lot," The woman sighed. "Wakes us up every night."

"I thought that forcing my mother to bake when she's clearly too tired to be doing anything apart from feeding a baby was a crime," Mel stated. "So I took care of it."

"Then Flint messed it up," Harry taunted.

"And then you fixed it, Uncle Moony," The girl smiled. "So there's no harm done, right boys?"

She looked over her shoulder, raising a brow as if urging them to stop bickering before they embarrassed her in front of Lupin. Both mumbled their agreement, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Lovely," Mel looked back at the adults. "Who wants lunch?"

Mel and Erick were in the kitchen talking in hurried whispers, she appeared to be upset, the young man too. Emily and Remus were in the drawing-room, Harry was upstairs changing Reg's diaper.

"Do you know why they're arguing?" Remus asked, staring at the pair.

"Dumbledore came by this morning before breakfast," Emily sighed, leaning her head back on the couch. "Talked about this mission he had for Erick — you know how eager to help that boy is... so of course the old man came and put his offer on a silver platter, and Mel won't let Erick go on his own, so being the generous soul Dumbledore is," She said sarcastically, "He said she could go too if she wanted to."

"Really?" Remus frowned. "Well... he's been giving her lessons for years, Mily, perhaps he knows she can handle it."

"I don't care," She said bluntly. "That's my daughter, my daughter. Matt's daughter. How can he continue to risk my family's life like it's nothing?"

"You know Matthew did all he that because he wanted to, Dumbledore had nothing to do with his decisions."

"I know," Emily took a deep breath. "But he's got a lot to do with Mel's... she idolizes him."

"You think so?" The man looked over his shoulder again, staring at his goddaughter.

"I don't see why else she'd be so keen to follow his orders..."

"Maybe because she feels guilty?" Remus offered. "After what happened in the ministry..."

Emily pressed her lips together, she didn't want to talk about that.

"That's not her fault and she knows it. I told her it wasn't."

"You weren't there," He said gravely. "She went out of control. I had never seen anything like it, her magic was dark— I mean that literally. All the spells she did came out pitch-black. Dumbledore was the only one who could put a stop to it."

Emily's eyes grew worried, she looked over her shoulder as well and her gaze landed on Mel.

"You think it could be the same thing that Ariana Dumbledore had? That disease?"

"No one knows what happened to her," Remus said. "Not even Matthew knew, and he was part of the family... but it could be. Maybe Dumbledore knows something we don't, maybe this will help her... perhaps she needs this."

Emily stayed silent for a moment, then she groaned.

"I hate that we're always meant to trust him blindly."

"He's lived a hundred years, he might be wiser than all of us, don't you think?"

The woman scoffed, she looked ahead, deep in thought.

"A hundred years... Matthew couldn't even make it to twenty-one! James and Lily barely did... Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban — But at least we all knew how the war looked like then, Remus. We fought for years... my daughter just turned sixteen, she still goes to school!"

"And yet she's already done her fair amount of fighting," The man raised a brow. "We didn't have the experiences she's gone through when we were her age. I stand with Dumbledore, she can do this."

"I'm not saying she can't," Emily grabbed the empty plates to take them to the kitchen. "I'm saying she shouldn't have to sacrifice her youth. Dumbledore asks for too much, I'm sure he's got someone else that could help him with the mission, but he's obsessed with making Mel his perfect copy."

Remus didn't try to argue back, little could convince Emily at this point, she'd never been a fan of Dumbledore, and after Matt's death it was no secret that she openly disliked him, but she still followed his orders, because she knew Dumbledore was the only chance they had to win this war.

Mel and Erick entered the room, neither of them angry, which made Remus think they had reached an agreement.

"I should leave," The man stood up. "Leon's been quiet, maybe Harry managed to make him sleep."

"Or maybe he's just playing with him," Emily stood up as well. "Really, I never thought Harry would get so attached to a baby..."

"I'll miss you, Uncle Lu, I hope to see you soon," Mel said, her eyes avoiding to look into Erick's direction.

"Me too, little Em," Remus hugged her tightly, he whispered in her ear. "Be good to your mother, alright?"

Mel looked at him with confusion, but she nodded anyway.

"So?" Emily crossed her arms. "What are you going to do?"

The young witch stared at her mother, Remus knew that expression. It was true and very strange, how she could have her dad's gaze even though her eyes were exactly like her mother's, but he knew that look, he'd seen it in Matt the last time they had spoken. Mel was done being a kid.

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @wlwmaximoff @reverse-hxlland @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle @hamiltonwc

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #hp hidden moments #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

11 notes · View notes

goldinavonlea · 4 years

Note

Prompt: Anne/Gilbert courting they’re in Anne’s room and then marilla returns so Gilbert has to sneak out lol!

OKAY HERE WE GO! I actually finished something for once! It is TOO LONG and SELF INDULGENT and I had the BEST TIME! A few people have expressed interest in this (madmen, all), so I’ll tag you in then post with a cut, or you could rock on over to read it on Ao3! @platonic-oxymoron, @jump-on-winds-back, @chocolatelatte121, @andim-pirate, @neliel-deathberry

So without further ado (or only the brief ado it takes me to figure out how to cut on desktop)…

Summer had arrived in Avonlea. In all truth, summer had arrived in Avonlea several weeks earlier, but the inclement internal weather of Anne’s life of late had rendered the view rather cloudy from her window for a while there, and so perhaps it was better to say that summer had arrived—finally—in Anne.

And what a summer it was.

The Snow Queen had advanced her reach so far that year that, with Anne’s window thrown open to the warm breeze, her outermost boughs reached past the casement and allowed the scent of blossoms to settle without having to do the tremendous injustice of cutting any sprigs loose. In the deliciously lazy few hours after lunch, the sun was in its prime and perfect position to extend its rays into the gable room, that so beloved tree stepping in again to render the light not sharp or overbright, but soft and golden and glorious, throwing shifting patterns on the floorboards. All the air was warm, perhaps under other circumstances too warm but with the light wind, the shade being indoors offered, the lack of necessity—there, in her own space—for long thick stockings or fussy aprons, no one to tell her to roll her sleeves back down her arms, rather than oppressive the afternoon seemed sweet, a little sticky but not unpleasantly so, stretching out slow and endless like toffee.

The house was quiet, Matthew tending the back field and Marilla having retreated to Rachel’s for the afternoon, leaving Anne alone but for the beating embodiment of her sudden shift in seasonal outlook, making himself quite at home as he lay, barefoot and trousers rolled to the knee, nose in a book with his head hanging upside-down off the edge of Anne’s bed.

He had more freckles, in the summer. Anne could count them all, if she wished to, but for the moment found herself quite content to sit propped up against the footboard, a book of her own in her lap, watching.

Well. Almost content.

“I don’t believe for a moment that actually works.”

“Sure it works,” came Gilbert’s reply as he lazily turned a page, the book obscuring his face for a moment though she could hear the smile in his words. “The brain needs oxygen to function, oxygen is carried in the blood, blood is as amenable to the affects of gravity as anything else, therefore: lying upside-down makes your brain work better.”

“There’s a logical fallacy in there somewhere, I can smell it.”

“Oh can you?” Gilbert asked, the smile in his voice broadening. “Where?”

“Don’t know,” Anne replied with a sigh, flicking a strand of hair out of her eyes. “It’s too hot to think: ask me again in Autumn.”

“I strongly suspect neither of us will remember to raise the argument again come Autumn.”

Anne snorted. “Me, miss an opportunity to point out a flaw in your intellectual argument? I think not.”

“Well that’s true,” Gilbert agreed, his smile finally reappearing to Anne’s eyes as well as her ears as he set his book down, still open, on his chest. Blinking at her a few times (and looking rather comical doing so, being as he was upside down), he sighed. “I’ve been reading the same three pages for half an hour and I don’t think I’ve taken in a word of it.”

“Probably too much oxygen to the brain,” she quipped back, before setting her own book aside. “I never would have thought there was any circumstance that could deter me from the written word, but even I am struggling to process much from the page on so compellingly syrupy an afternoon,” Anne said, swallowing down a yawn and swinging her legs round so that she could lie back besides Gilbert, eyes drifting shut. “It’s like bathwater: I just want to fall asleep.”

“If you fall asleep now you won’t tonight, and then you’ll have hell to pay from Marilla when you refuse to get up in the morning.”

“Oh why should we get up in the morning, anyway? There’s so much day to be getting on with at the moment, surely some small portion of it could be given over to that most delightful and rare of luxuries that is the lie-in?”

“I thought mornings were for chores around here,” Gilbert said with the grin of one allowed entirely free reign over his own comings and goings.

Anne groaned. “Oh don’t, it’s summer: a season much too romantical to be tainted by the likes of laundry before ten in the morning. And don’t think I can’t feel your smugness without looking at you, Bash keeps you on entirely too long a leash.”

“Hey, I do laundry!”

“You do laundry precisely when you do everything, which is at whichever point in the day suits you. I love Marilla with the depth and wholeness of my heart, but Lord in Heaven does the woman love a schedule. I swear, once I have my teaching certificate and the promise of endless, uninterrupted summers, I won’t be getting out of bed before eleven a single day of them. I won’t even sleep that long, I’ll just wake up and stay in bed for hours and hours and hours, simply because I can.”

Gilbert’s grin softened at this, all teasing and fond. “I don’t reckon you could last ten minutes in bed after waking up without being bored to tears.”

“I certainly could,” Anne insisted, warming to her theme. “I’d keep a veritable mountain of books on my bedside table and spend the whole morning just reading. Maybe I wouldn’t even bother with a bedside table: just pile up all my books on the floor and balance my coffee on top of them.”

“If you don’t plan on getting out of bed,” Gilbert began slowly, clearly aware that he was walking into a trap and full of the imminent delight of being thus caught, “how do you suppose you’ll be getting ahold of coffee?”

Anne paused, then rolled her head ever so slightly to the side and cut a pointed and speculative glance at Gilbert.

The beaming, boyish smile that overcame his face was thrilled.

Gotcha.

“Now that seems decidedly unfair.”

“Well,” Anne sniffed, returning her gaze to the ceiling. “Doctors don’t get summer holidays.”

“That is a sore wound and rubbing salt in it is actually very cruel.”

“Oh how you shall suffer, upheld as you shall be as a paragon of upright gentlemanliness wherever you go—”

“I’ve no doubt you plan to make that very difficult.”

“Positively fawned over by your grateful patients bringing you flowers and cakes and… and jars of various preserves—”

“From which you will get equal if not greater enjoyment, so you are, in advance, welcome.”

“People naming their dear children after you—”

“God, I hope not.”

Anne pulled up short at that, snapped out of the playful exchange as she turned again to Gilbert with a frown. “Well what’s that supposed to mean?”

His face screwed up in evident distaste. “We have to swear an oath, you know: Do no harm. Not sure I’d be able to say I was honouring my promise if my presence lead some poor child to being named Gilbert.”

“What’s wrong with Gilbert?” Anne asked, contrarily offended on his behalf. “I like it.”

He gave her a look that suggested she might have gone quite mad.

“Well I do! I don’t think I’d considered it all that much prior to coming to Avonlea, and… I will admit for a while it did prompt a thrill of what I generally assumed to be rage, but now… names are just words for people, aren’t they? Gilbert is the word that means you, so naturally it has to be one of my very favourites.”

Again his faced softened, became something that wasn’t exactly a smile but was so unflinchingly open, so tender, Anne was of half a mind to look away. She didn’t.

“You know,” he said, absently tangling their fingers together on Anne’s faded quilt, “for someone who seems to relish in being mean to me you can be incredibly sweet when the spirit moves you.”

Anne shrugged. “I contain multitudes.”

Like that, the broad, delighted grin was back. “That’s Whitman—Song of Myself.”

“I know. I might have to wait until sunset at the moment but I have managed to do some reading.”

“And you chose to read Whitman.”

“Of course,” Anne said, genuinely a little baffled that he seemed so very pleased by the fact, as though it wasn’t obvious the copy of Leaves of Grass would leap directly to the top of her extensive to read list the moment he placed it in her hands. “I know it means a lot to you.”

He simply blinked at her for several moments, before his mouth went crooked in a wry smirk. “I might start handing you copies of The Lancet, just to see if you could force yourself through all that dull writing.”

Anne, forsaking for a moment the mantle of a mature young woman, stuck out her tongue. “Now who’s mean?”

“I suppose we’re equal.”

“Well then, rejoice old world, for all is as it should be.”

He squeezed her hand, his eyes soft and brown-sugar warm, something in them that, even in the summer, always seemed to remind her of Christmas. He smiled. “Yeah.”

Anne wasn’t sure, with all the years and years of promise she had ahead of her in order to test the truth of such a belief, that she’d ever grow accustomed to this part. For all the marvellous, sweeping romances she’d read through the years not one of them had ever truly provided any great detail on a kiss, shying away into the vagaries of metaphor which, while lovely, paled in comparison to the focus and specificity of the real thing, and to that entire grand pasture (until recently existing entirely unbeknownst to Anne even in her wildest imaginings) of all that was around a kiss in and of itself.

For example, this: those breathless moments leading up to it, wherein contact became an inevitability and yet still—even after several seemingly eternal weeks of increasing familiarisation with one another—the thrill of nerves, the restless, impatient aching in the palms, the sides of the neck, the small of the spine that those eyes, suddenly heavy, brought forth in her. The fading out of the outside world, only ‘fading out’ wasn’t quite right, it was more like fading in, all the focus that had been spared for other things narrowing its scope (and how could she ever have imagined that a narrowing of scope might bring such a rush of muchness!) until all it encompassed was her, and him, and them—this thing that they became together, united in purpose and humming like one of Miss Stacey’s wires, the length and breadth of them startling and electric and alive.

God, he hadn’t even touched her yet. Perhaps attempting this with their heads hanging off the edge of the bed wasn’t their wisest of plans: the whole thing left her light-headed enough when she was the right way up.

Still, Anne had never been one to back down from a bad idea, and Gilbert had never once tried to dissuade her—only ever asked for the chance to join in.

He asked her now, with the tilt of his head, his breath warm in the already warm room, the soft downturn of his softer eyelashes blurred to dark brown smoke from this close (and he really was terribly good at getting that close without Anne entirely realising it was happening. Probably she should ask how he did it, but really she already knew that the answer was magic).

Anne, as she was so often inclined to do where he was concerned (now that she had allowed her inclinations the free reign they rightly deserved) said yes.

Oh, she was certain she’d never get used to this.

It started soft, as it usually did, the barest brush of lips that sparked and made her breath catch, reminded her that she was breathing at all. His fingers, still intertwined with her own, tightened their grip involuntarily, and even with her eyes closed Anne could feel the furrow of his brow, that little line of concentration and control that baited her, bothered deliciously at her until she inevitably managed to soothe it flat, until he relaxed and melted into it like clay under her hands.

That wasn’t just yet, though: that part came a little later.

For now it was delicate and fluttering, not indecisive but unhurried, a little awed. There was no reason, Anne had concluded, no reason at all why placing one’s mouth on someone else’s ought to be so thrilling to every last thread of her, except for the fact that every point of contact, every movement of his lips against her own (a little firmer, now, a little longer, a little more intent) sang with the knowledge that this was Gilbert, Gilbert with the good heart and the gentle hands and the lopsided smile and the brilliant mind, and that that mind had chosen in that moment to put his mouth to her, to kiss her this way and then that, that of all the things that he could have elected to be doing right then it was kissing her that he wanted… that was where the thrill lay. Kissing in general, she supposed, might well be fine enough, but kissing Gilbert…

He shifted his attentions from Anne’s top lip to the bottom, and she pressed her sudden advantage to slot them together properly, like puzzle pieces sliding into place. Surely no-one else would fit her the way he did? Surely they were made for each other, when they worked together so well?

Ever so gently, his teeth scraped against her lip, and any question marks in her thoughts turned to dust.

Loathe to lose the contact, Anne decided against trying to sort out which fingers belonged to who on their entangled hands, instead rolling onto her side just enough for the hand she had spare to reach Gilbert’s face, trace the high of his cheek, the cut of his jaw of which she was so inexplicably fond—perhaps because its sharpness under her palm felt so very real, perhaps because the roll and motion of it took her back, again, to the mechanics and deliberation and will—his will, Gilbert’s!—behind his mouth on hers, or perhaps because of the way that every time she touched him there he shivered a little, and she felt the kick of it in her bones. She felt rooted, certain of and one with her skin in a way she rarely had the luxury of experiencing: she knew she was solid, and grounded, and there, because Gilbert was, and she had moved him. What a power that was, she thought as her fingertips skimmed the shell of his ear, found their way to the curls at the nape of his neck (which she had found she was also tremendously fond of)—to know that she could put her hands on him and he would move for her, just like that. She couldn’t entirely fathom what she’d done to deserve such a thing, but then she felt the instinctive shift of her own spine under his hand as it found her waist, and realised perhaps that was it: the utter trust it took Anne to be able to respond to him without thought or hesitation was a gift that earned the same in return. It was about balance, and faith, and equality, in this as in all things between them.

She loved it.

She ran her fingers down the line of his throat to his collarbone, felt him draw a sharp breath straight from her own lungs as his hand flexed, tightened against her waist, and then gave her breath back in the shape of her own name.

“Anne.”

She wondered whether that was one of his favourite words, too—it certainly sounded that way, when he said it—and decided it was only fair she got the same opportunity to voice the name of her own joy that he did.

“Gil.”

Things blurred and sharpened then, the passage of time becoming hazy and malleable even as otherwise minute details—the exact pinpoint location and pressure of his thumb against her ribs, the back of her foot brushing against his shin, how she could just feel his heartbeat against her palm with her fingers hooked over his shoulder, the only fast thing in a world gone slow as honey.

What a thing, to feel with her hand the impact she had on the heart of him; to know his love (he loved her, he loved her!) as something tangible, this thing she’d longed for no longer only curled through the landscape of her imagination but right there, held close, a rhythm against her skin.

His mouth sought out her throat, the exact spot just above the collar of her dress where her pulse beat strongest, and how could she do anything but smile, laugh breathlessly at the reassurance he was searching for? Yes, she said, with her fingers tangled in his curls, with the tilt of her head to make room for him, yes, Gilbert Blythe, I love you too.

And so they went, the tick of Anne’s clock forgotten amidst the heady sweetness of being together, and close, and in love in their own little corner of the world, into which nothing else might enter and from whence no-one might remove them.

Or… almost nothing. Almost no-one.

Divinely and determinedly distracted as she was, even Anne’s dubious sense of self-preservation cut sharply through that most pleasant of fogs at the creak (oh blessed creak!) of the kitchen door. Gilbert, who had eventually corralled enough mental direction to unwind their joined hands and set about one of his favourite pursuits—the utter destruction of whatever sense of order Anne had managed to impose upon her hair—displayed less wisdom, taking a few moments to respond not to the sound of the door itself, but the sudden tension of the girl in his arms.

“Anne?” he asked, withdrawing with evident reluctance from the crook of her neck, eyes dazed, colour high in his cheeks and—and this Anne noticed with a dangerously distracting level of satisfaction—his hair just as dishevelled as her own would inevitably be.

“Shh,” she hissed, utterly still as she strained to hear any further sound from downstairs, as yet hopeful that she might have been imagining things.

Footfalls, sharp and eminently recognisable. Anne’s eyes snapped back to Gilbert’s, wide and alarmed as the same sudden understanding dawned on his face. “Marilla.”

Sitting bolt upright (and fighting the sudden head rush the movement prompted), Anne let out a soft curse she’d never have voiced in any other company, hands flying to one of her braids as Gilbert followed suit, the protocol for such a disruption already perhaps an undignified level of established.

“I thought you said she wouldn’t be back until five?” Gilbert whispered sharply, doing, Anne had to admit, an admirable job of not becoming sidetracked as he combed his fingers through her hair and set about reconstructing her right braid.

“She’s an autonomous being, Gilbert: evidently she changed her mind! See this is precisely why we should meet at your house instead of here.”

“And risk Hazel wandering in? If you’d like to explain to Bash how his mother came to have a heart attack then be my guest!”

“You have a barn, don’t you?”

“You have a barn!” Gilbert replied, sounding just a little hysterical as he fumbled with her ribbon and dropped it. Twice.

“My barn is regularly occupied by both Jerry and Matthew, idiot.”

“And mine by Bash.”

“Better Bash,” she said, turning her focus to the potentially tricker task of flattening out Gilbert’s hair into some semblance of decorum, “than Marilla.”

“I… that’s fair. Okay, what am I doing?”

Anne bit her lip, casting about the room for escape routes. “You could climb out the window?”

“Out the window?” he repeated, managing to sound simultaneously amused and horrified. “Anne, I’d land directly outside the window downstairs, do you not think she might notice?”

“Well what if I climbed out the window?” Anne asked, rather clutching at straws at this point.

Gilbert was evidently trying to swallow down laughter. “What good would that do?!”

“Fine, okay, okay you’re just going to have to be quiet and hope she doesn’t come in here, and then we’ll… figure it out.”

“Anne, what do you—”

“Shut up, shut up she’ll hear you just, just shh!”

“Alright, alright I’m—” he stopped mid sentence, falling abruptly silent at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Again they stared at each other, eyes locked in panic, although it became rapidly obvious that this was a mistake as Anne felt a fit of giggles bubbling up her throat.

“Anne? Anne, are you up here?”

Praying that the Good Lord (being entirely responsible for sending trouble her way) might allow her passage through her current trials unscathed, Anne swallowed the laughter down and attempted to even out her voice. “Afternoon Marilla!”

If the look on Gilbert, eyes screwed shut and the back of his hand pressed to his mouth as his shoulders shook silently, was anything to go by, her attempt had failed.

“Oh, you are home! I’d not have expected to find you inside on a day like this,” came Marilla’s voice again from the other side of the closed door.

“I… it’s only, you know,” Anne began a little desperately, thwacking Gilbert with the back of her hand as the trembling of his suppressed laughter increased, “sunburn is such a tremendous pain to be dealing with, I thought I’d better not chance it.”

“Well now. How uncharacteristically responsible of you.”

At this Gilbert threw his head back, having to turn his hand to cover both his mouth and nose as tears pooled at the corners of his eyes, the suggestion of her responsibility whilst she desperately fought to evade the detection of a young man in her bedroom clearly proving itself too much for him. Not today, and perhaps not even tomorrow, but some day soon Anne was going to push him into the Lake of Shining Waters for this.

“Yes, well. Thanks.”

“Well I’m only back for a minute or two—Rachel’s gotten it into her head that she absolutely must furnish you with a new quilt when you leave for Charlottetown, honestly that woman has too many sons and is far too intent on spoiling other people’s daughters,” Marilla added in a undertone which threatened to unbalance Anne’s tenuous grasp on herself and reduce her to Gilbert’s level of amusement, “so she’s sent me back to collect all my patterns that she might judge the most appropriate.”

“That’s… that’s very kind of her. She really needn’t trouble herself.”

“As I have endeavoured to explain to her, though she’s having none of it. Still, I don’t suppose it can do any harm—I do hate to imagine you getting cold all alone, come winter.”

Something about the tone of Marilla’s voice bled the hysterical amusement from the moment, leant it a fond softness that Gilbert clearly felt too, since he was able to uncover his mouth and reach for her hand, thumb brushing softly across her knuckles.

Anne squeezed his fingers. “I won’t be alone.”

“No,” came Marilla’s reply, before a pause. Anne, who was well acquainted with Marilla’s various pauses, could hear the smile in it. “No, I don’t suppose you shall. Well, anyway, I just thought you ought to know my return may be a little later than I’d anticipated, what with Rachel on a mission, so you and Matthew may have to fend for yourselves for dinner. Stick to the stovetop, mind, and don’t be laying a finger on the cake in the pantry, it isn’t for you as you well know.”

“Yes, Marilla, I know.”

“Good. And enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

“You too,” Anne replied, the tension slowly draining from her shoulders as she heard the footsteps retreating back down the stairs and then, a few moments later, the opening and closing of the kitchen door.

A further few beats of silence, and then a great relieved sigh from her co-conspirator. “Well. That was a bit close.”

Anne, entirely without hesitation and displaying the height of dignity, picked up the small cushion Marilla had sewn for her and whacked him over the head. “You rogue, you utter disaster of a man, could you not have made a little more of an effort to contain yourself? She could have heard you!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Gilbert laughed, sounding anything but as he raised his hands in defence.

“You are not, scoundrel, you’re no good at lies and they don’t become you so you’d do much better not trying. See if I invite you here again.”

“Perhaps it’d be wiser if you didn’t,” he replied, still evidently amused. “Wouldn’t want Marilla thinking you aren’t responsible.”

“Oh she already knows I’m not,” Anne said primly, standing at last from the bed and smoothing out her skirts. “It’s your dishonourable conduct she’d be shocked by: she thinks you’re such a nice young man.”

“Most do,” Gilbert agreed cheerfully, leaning back against her headboard with that lopsided grin again, entirely at his leisure. Oh how intolerable of him, to make her love him so even when he was being absolutely insufferable. “And what do you think, Miss? Do you find my conduct to be dishonourable?”

Though he smiled, Anne was attuned enough to him by now that she could detect the undertone of sincerity in the question. Seating herself again on the bed beside him, she raised a hand to his face then ran it back through his curls, flooded with impossible fondness at the way he leant into the touch. “I believe… that there surely cannot be anything dishonourable in offering a young lady precisely the affection with which she longs to be treated.”

“Well then,” he said, his hand coming up to cover hers where it had come to rest against his cheek. “Can’t imagine anyone else’s opinion matters all that much.”

Anne grinned. “Except Marilla’s.”

“Except,” Gilbert said, tilting his head in deference to her point, “perhaps Marilla’s.”

They sat like that in tender silence for several long moments, before Anne sighed and broke it. “You do realise you have to leave now, right?”

The wide-eyed, childlike disappointment on his face was Anne thought, tremendously comical. “What, why?”

“Because if you don’t we’ll only end up having this exact palaver again in a few hours.”

“We’ll keep an eye on the time!”

“Do you have the faintest idea what time it is now? No, don’t look.”

Having been instructed away from the small clock on Anne’s bedside, Gilbert narrowed his eyes. “… One…ish?”

“It’s half past three,” Anne informed him, unimpressed.

Blatantly disbelieving, Gilbert sat up to get a look at the clock himself. “It never is, it can’t…” He stopped, blinking at the hands. “Are you sure that’s right?”

Anne grabbed his hand and pulled, tugging him up from the bed. Probably her pillows would smell like him that night. “Come on, out.”

“No, Anne, come on, don’t make me go home: Dellie’s teething, the crying’s unbearable.” He fought her as she dragged him to the door, not hard but enough to make her laugh at his recalcitrance. And to think, she’d once thought mystery and melancholy to be the grand romantic ideal: how much better this was, to love and be loved by someone who shared his feelings with her unreservedly, however fleeting or ridiculous they might seem.

“Then don’t go home,” Anne suggested, pulling him behind her down the hall, then giving him a gentle shove in the direction of the stairs. “Go for a walk, get some fresh air: they say it’s terribly good for you, Doctor Blythe.”

“Sunburn isn’t,” he argued, somehow managing to reach the ground floor without falling as he took the steps half-backwards, eyes still on her as she followed him. “It’s a terrible pain to be dealing with, I hear: I could be laid up in bed for days, and then how would you feel?”

“Find some shade,” Anne said, restraining a grin as she held the kitchen door open for him.

“Surely, being the far greater adventurer of the two of us, you’d be much better at such a search than I would,” he said, standing firm in the doorway and giving her a look of such utterly unconvincing false innocence she couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, it’s a beautiful day: how could you stand to miss out on it? And think—it’s a matter of weeks before we’re off to the city, surrounded by smog and buildings and the great urban sprawl.”

“Eight weeks, which is in fact two months.”

Gilbert elected to ignore this correction. “Think how badly you’ll long for a summer afternoon with trees and flowers and rivers then. Can you really throw away this chance, when it’s right here for the taking?”

Anne crossed her arms, fighting a smile and doing, she knew, a very poor job of it. “I suppose it is a glorious day…”

“Glorious,” Gilbert agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

“And I wonder… have I introduced you to my very favourite tree yet?”

He tilted his head, considering. “The Sugar Maple, up near the Andrews’ place?”

“Elm, outside of town—past the old bridge beyond the schoolhouse?”

“Then no, I don’t believe you have.”

“Well then,” Anne said, answering his triumphant grin with one of her own as she fetched her hat from the hook by the door and slid into her boots. “Who am I to deny the most wondrous call of summer?”

“Who indeed?” Gilbert replied, grabbing hold of her hand and pulling her beside him, out into the sun.

#anne with an e #awae #avonlea writes #shirbert #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #awae fic

616 notes · View notes

athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

Text

What about Byron?

PART THIRTY-EIGHT OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of surgery/appendicitis, mentions of family trauma, plentiful pop culture references, this is just fluff I know guys but I needed something to restore my faith in humanity even just momentarily

Word Count: 5.5K

Summary: The first Thanksgiving in Ella and Jess’s new apartment doesn’t go exactly according to plan.

Humming a She Wants Revenge song under her breath, Ella leaned back against the cabinets and dried the fragile dishes. She was reminded of their days at the diner as Jess stood over the kitchen sink washing them. From her spot sitting on the counter right next to him, she could admire his profile and feel her cheeks heat up at the sight. He had grown into himself so well. But his beauty and her comfort at his presence were probably the only things keeping her nerves at bay. The dishes, her mother’s, had come in the mail from Fiona only two days earlier. White faux China adorned with pinkish-red roses. Ella had taken a few moments to recognize them, since there had been no note along with them. But then she remembered family holidays when her mother would take them out, only used for the most special occasions. Even though they were chipped in some places and had been bought at a rummage sale just after her parents had gotten married.

The dishes were where the plans for the holiday truly started to form. Chris, Leo, Matthew, and Mabel all had other engagements which took them out of town for Thanksgiving. Ella and Jess were still unsure of what they were doing. Adam was going to Noah’s, Fiona was going to her sister’s. Still, no word from Jake. Jess was wary of staying in Stars Hollow, though his time at the community center therapist’s office had been doing him well. They bounced him around to a different counselor each time he went, and talking to a complete stranger about all his issues hadn’t come easy, still wasn’t coming easy. But maybe just the fact that he was trying made him feel better.

On a whim, at the sight of the dishes, Ella had a wild idea. Instead of going to Stars Hollow, why not bring Stars Hollow to Philadelphia? The dishes were meant to be used. She couldn’t neglect them like an instrument unplayed. Not her mother’s dishes. And when she’d run it by Jess, he’d been more receptive than she’d thought he would be. Maybe he was just surprised she was open to contacting anyone from her family at all. She still seemed so standoffish about them, since the graduation ceremony. And the apartment wasn’t big, but certainly they could handle a few people over for one afternoon. Julie, Michael, and their girls would be in attendance. Along with Luke and Lorelai. But, when Liz and TJ heard Luke and Lorelai were coming, they somehow managed to invite themselves.

Jess wasn’t thrilled about it, and neither was Ella, but they were trying to keep level heads. Plan everything in advance and keep the day-of to a low-stress affair. It was only Monday, and they were already washing the dishes. It made Ella feel slightly more secure. And she had the whole week off, leaving plenty more time to prepare. Luke and Lorelai were also coming on Wednesday and staying the night at a motel, though Ella and Jess insisted they didn’t need to help. Ella was shocked Luke was willing to be away from the diner for more than one day, let alone Thanksgiving. Maybe getting back with Lorelai after Rory’s graduation had changed his outlook on life a bit.

She uttered a small sigh as she dried yet another dish, stressing herself out with the storm of thoughts raging in her head. A throb was starting behind her eyes.

“What’s up?” Jess asked, handing her another plate, his hands reddish and dripping from the hot water.

Ella shook her head slightly. “Nothing. Doesn’t it just seem a little bourgeois of us to have a set of dishes?”

“I don’t know. I think we’re exempt, considering you got these from your mom, who got them from someone else,” Jess pointed out, his voice light. “Sharing is caring for the proletariat.”

Snickering, she let a small smile cross her lips. “Well, it’ll have to be, considering we’re trying to fit eleven people in a shoebox.”

“It won’t be that bad,” Jess continued, trying to sound reassuring. She had been quiet and fidgety all evening, and he wondered just how wound up about the event she really was. Ella had a tendency to spread herself too thin and regret it when it was already too late.

“Look at you, Mr. Sunshine,” she quipped as she dried the last plate.

Jess shut off the water and watched the soapy foam begin to circle down the drain. He wiped his hands on his jeans, eyeing the tall stack of dishes which sat on Ella’s other side. She was right. Even a chipped set of plates didn’t look quite correct in their faded, out of date kitchen. But he only shrugged off the nerves. They were in for it, and there was nothing they could do about it. He came to stand in between Ella’s legs. She brought her arms to rest on his shoulders as he shifted closer.

“I’m working on my positive outlook.”

She snorted a laugh. “Good luck.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, that wasn’t very convincing.”

“I just don’t know if I’d be able to handle you waking up to a motivational tape every morning,” she said, shrugging.

Jess smirked. “That’s cute. But it’s not 1985 anymore. It would be a motivational CD, at least.”

“Maybe you could start with reading that self-help book again?” she suggested, teasing. “Maybe Luke could bring it up for you on Wednesday?”

“Touché,” he replied.

“Hey,” she began, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “I kinda like that you read that book.”

He scoffed. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said, searching his face for a moment. “Just seems exactly like something you would do...in a good way. Are you sure you’re okay with seeing your mom and everything?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I promise,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Okay. But just tell me if you’re not okay. I can kick them out without a second thought,” she said with mock gravity. “There’s a reason I was Luke’s favorite waitress.”

Jess chuckled. “Good to know.”

Then, she took a deep, tired breath. Tilting his head at her, he noticed the constant tinge of pink on her cheeks, and the way she seemed to sit as though the weight of the world was on her limbs.

“You okay, Stevens?” he asked.

“Other than the sense of impending doom...yeah, I’d say I’m doing alright,” she said.

Furrowing his brows, he brought the back of one hand to her cheek.

She groaned in annoyance at his needless concern. “You can’t get all Mother Hen on me now, Mariano. We’ve got pies to bake and a turkey to roast.”

“Elle, if-”

“I’m fine, Jess,” she continued, swatting his hand away when he attempted to move it to her forehead. “It’s just PMS. I have cramps, too. Don’t worry about it.”

After a moment, he finally managed an unconvinced: “Okay.”

. . .

Wednesday afternoon brought flurries of snow in stray showers throughout the day. A crisp, biting wind blew through the Philadelphia air, but it still felt a bit warmer than Connecticut to Lorelai. She could already smell the fragrance of pie as they approached the door of Jess and Ella’s apartment. It was odd, to say the least, standing in the dingy, grayish hallway of the building in front of the door, adorned with a rusty ‘7.’ A flash of memory crossed her mind, sitting in the living room of her home, braiding Ella’s hair. She’d warned Ella back then not to get involved with Jess, told her he was trouble. Sometimes, when she heard through the Lane grapevine about fights the two had, Lorelai wondered if she should have done more to protect Ella. She remembered nights comforting her on the couch after her mother died, feeling helpless and unable to get Ella to work through her emotions. Often, Ella would just sit there staring at the television screen, with the same glazed expression no matter what they were watching. Even after Rory fell asleep, Lorelai would stay up with her. Just to be there.

She knew what it was to be alone at such a young age. And she knew what it was to fall for a boy who didn’t deserve you just to escape the isolation. Sometimes, Ella reminded her more of herself than even Rory. But Rory had been on her mind every waking second in those days. And she had, somehow, let Ella slip through the cracks. Go on a rocky path with Jess. Not that it hadn’t turned out alright in the end. Even Luke approved, despite how against it all he had been at first. But Lorelai was still unsure of Jess, even after so many years. She was civil when they crossed paths, but actually spending a day inside the home Ella shared with him was a different matter entirely. All she’d ever seen of him were the angriest, nastiest moments. She didn’t like the idea of Ella having to weather such a storm for the rest of her life, simply because she and Jess had been together for so long.

“You gonna knock, or what?” Luke asked, his wide, expectant eyes flicking between the door and Lorelai. His hands were full of the sides he’d made the day before. One tupperware with garlic mashed potatoes, the other with glazed carrots; he knew how much Ella liked them. She’d always taken the leftovers from the diner when they were offered.

Lorelai nodded. “Yes. Just preparing myself to right walk into a John Hughes movie.”

“I told you, Lorelai,” Luke said gruffly, rolling his eyes. “He’s changed. They both have.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Well, you’re getting the chance to. Just please knock on the damn door before my arms give out,” Luke said.

Lorelai scoffed, then raised a gloved hand and knocked. She was surprised how quickly Jess came to greet them, a thin smile on his face as he took their coats and the tupperwares from Luke. He seemed rushed, and there was a pink, checkered apron tied around his hips. It stood out against his otherwise all-black t-shirt and jeans ensemble. She was surprised to see a respectable haircut on his head.

“Hey. Make yourself at home. I gotta make sure the sugar doesn’t burn,” he said, then hurried back into the kitchen as they took off their shoes.

“Thanks,” Lorelai muttered, looking around the place.

It was surprisingly cozy, homey, considering the run-down state of the building. There were a few throw blankets draped over the back of the couch, and cacti planted in small pots on one of the end tables near the sliding glass door. Through it, she could see two mismatched armchairs next to each other on the tiny balcony. Art lined the walls. A few posters, famous photography, paintings and drawings Lorelai could recognize as Ella’s from their mixture of horror and botanicals. Stepping into the living room as Luke immediately offered to help Jess, she spotted a couple pictures in small frames, sitting on the end table sans cacti.

In one, Ella sat on Jess’s lap inside what looked to be a dive bar. Ella’s left arm was hooked around the back of Jess’s neck, and she used her free hand to gesture. Her lips were curling up at the edges as she spoke some word frozen in time. Jess had his head thrown back in laughter at whatever Ella had said. The sight made Lorelai’s eyebrows raise just a touch. She didn’t think she had ever heard Jess truly laugh at anything. The next picture saw Ella and Jess together in a train seat, the scenery passing them by through a small window. They were both asleep, Ella’s head on Jess’s shoulder, and Jess’s head on top of Ella’s. In another, just Ella was in the shot. She was glancing at the camera, not quite smiling but looking serene as she sat on a beach towel, the waves captured in mid-crash behind her. Still, Lorelai’s surprise grew. Ella hated the ocean.

“Nice apron, by the way,” Luke said, smirking at Jess as he rounded the corner to take a seat at the island.

Jess gave a sardonic grin in response, looking down at himself and blushing. “Thanks. Eleanor said it wouldn’t really feel like a pie day without it.”

“Oh, God, the pie days,” Lorelai piped up, groaning fondly at the memory. She came over to take the stool next to Luke. She had to admit, watching Jess stir a pot on the stove in a pink apron like a portrait of Donna Reed made a giggle rise in her throat. “I don’t miss those.”

“You weren’t the one she was waking up before the sunrise to get inside and use your oven because hers didn’t have convection!” Luke argued.

Lorelai snorted. “No, but I was the one who had to hear you rant about it before you gave me my morning coffee.”

“Need I remind you all that we always sold every slice?” Ella chimed in, emerging from the bedroom.

Lorelai smiled as she swiveled around on the stool. Ella wasn’t wearing any makeup and she was dressed in a large flannel and leggings. Her hair was messy and down. Maybe her style had changed since the grunge-goth diner phase.

“Hey! I told you to stay in bed!” Jess said, raising his eyebrows and pointing a wooden spoon at Ella from the kitchen.

Ella rolled her eyes, going over and giving Lorelai and Luke hugs of greeting. “Why would I stay in bed when there’s so much excitement out here?”

She waltzed into the kitchen next to Jess, eyes roaming over the mess of flour and spices and bowls and pie tins he had laid out next to the stove. She could tell by the smell of the apartment the apple was currently in the oven. It looked like he was working on the pecan next.

“Maybe because you just got your appendix taken out, like, twelve hours ago?” Jess said emphatically, eyes widening at her.

“What?” Luke asked.

“Is that why Jess is doing his Leave it to Beaver routine? I thought he was filling in because you were getting ready,” Lorelai said, a startled lilt in her tone. “But instead you just got your organs rearranged?”

“I had a minor surgery and I’m fine now,” Ella said, casual and content. The medicine they’d given her at the hospital hadn’t quite worn off yet, but she had been high around parental figures more than once. She could hold her own. She could even ignore the troubling notions about gender roles deeply ingrained in Lorelai’s comment, in the spirit of keeping arguments to a minimum. She glanced at the mixture Jess was beginning in the big blue bowl. “Just make sure to-”

“I’m following the recipes you gave me,” Jess cut in defensively. “If you’re not gonna stay in bed like you should, can you at least sit down and not backseat bake?”

Lorelai gave the two a suspicious glance. There was the bite in Jess’s voice. The one she could remember so well.

Ella gave a heavy sigh through her nose. Of all the weeks to get appendicitis. Pie-making was probably her favorite part of the winter months. “Fine. But I’m playing my Joni Mitchell record and you can’t complain about it.”

“You’re sick. You’re allowed to play whatever you want. You’re just not allowed to rip your stitches open,” Jess said, shrugging and gaining a teasing tone again. The smirk returned.

“I’m not sick, jackass,” she snapped.

Lorelai pursed her lips, looking over at Luke with eyes full of nostalgia. “Is it just me or have we been transported back to 2002?”

“Seems like it,” Luke mumbled, watching them bicker like they always had.

Before Ella could turn on her heel to leave the kitchen, heading for the record player in the corner of the living room, Jess put down his spoon and stopped her with a: “Hold on.”

“What?” she asked.

He took a couple steps towards her, wiping his hands on the apron before placing his palm on her forehead, feeling how warm it was. Then, he transferred the backs of his fingers to her rosy cheek. “Do you need more Ibuprofen?”

“Not for a couple hours,” she replied, more honest than he was expecting. Banter aside, he could see the fatigue in her glassy eyes. “It’s fine. The doctor said I could have a fever for up to forty-eight hours after surgery.”

“I know. Just checking,” he said, then dropped his hand as she made her way out.

Again, Lorelai’s confusion deepened. She couldn’t hide the crease on her forehead as she furrowed her brows at the interaction. Was Jess really playing nurse? Without complaint?

“I can’t believe you got her to a doctor at all,” Luke said.

Jess scoffed, looking down at the mixture as he stirred. “Only after she passed out on the bathroom floor because her fever was so high.”

“What?!” Luke repeated, instantly panicked.

“Tell them every detail of our lives, why don’t you, chatty Kathy?” Ella grumbled as she put the record on. “I’m fine now.”

A wave of relaxation washed over her as Joni Mitchell’s voice sounded. She went to the couch and threw an old blanket over herself, facing the kitchen.

“My God, Ella. It’s just like that time you broke your arm,” Lorelai said knowingly, going over to join Ella on the couch. She put a comforting hand on Ella’s knee. “Seriously, sweetie, you can’t just expect an organ to abracadabra out of your body.”

“Damn, if only Jess was still doing those magic tricks,” Ella teased in retaliation, narrowing her eyes at Jess as he glared at her through the opening to the kitchen.

Soon, he and Luke were enveloped in their own sporadic, monosyllabic conversation and it made Ella crack a small smile of nostalgia. She raked her hands through her hair as Lorelai began to ask about the apartment, how school was going. It was strange having such a long conversation with her. They hadn’t engaged in their old, pseudo mother-daughter dynamic in a long time. Part of Ella felt as though she were back to being fifteen again. But another part of her felt so elementally different. Able to recognize how much Lorelai had helped her in a way she simply hadn’t been able to comprehend as a teenager. Sure, she was beyond grateful even when she was young. But, now, she wondered if and where she would be if Lorelai hadn’t been there to help her following her mother’s death, or even in her life before. She probably wouldn’t have gotten a job at Luke’s, considering Lorelai was the one who had initially asked Luke to help the Stevens out and give them leftovers every once in a while. Who knew if Ella and Jess would have ever gotten together. The ‘what-ifs’ spinning around in her head only served to fill her heart with warmth for Lorelai. Not only due to the lingering effects of the hospital drugs.

“You said Rory’s still following Obama?” Ella asked, leaning against the side of the couch. She had never had surgery before, and never knew how absolutely exhausted she would be afterwards.

Lorelai nodded, taking a sip of the water Luke had brought her. He was currently fighting to get in the kitchen with Jess, who was still insistent on making the pies entirely by himself.

“Yeah, she’s gonna be with him until the inauguration in January,” Lorelai explained. “She’s Woodward and Bernsteining it up in Chicago right now. They’ve been making stops all around the country for months.”

“Wow,” Ella said, a soft smile still playing on her lips. “She’s really doing it. I can’t even imagine how happy she must be. I mean, I always knew she would. But it’s finally happening.”

“I know. Just a few steps closer to Christian Amanpour,” Lorelai agreed proudly, beaming. “But, hey, you don’t seem to be doing too bad yourself.”

“Yeah. Only a few more months and I’ll finally have that damn degree. The dean’s been talking to me about teaching after I graduate, at least part-time. I don’t know, though. I’m still mulling it over,” Ella said, thinking back to the meetings she’d been having recently. Her own classroom, her own office, her own space to create and guide others to create. And, of course, she could still work making art for Truncheon. The more she thought about it, dreamed about it, and talked it over with Jess, the more she could see herself staying at Penn for longer than just the end of the spring semester.

Lorelai’s face was unreadable for a moment, as she swallowed dryly and looked down into her drink. “And you’re really happy here? This is...this is what you want?”

Ella’s face fell just a touch. She had thought maybe such a question was coming. Lorelai had never loved Jess, never even liked him. Part of Ella thought it was completely understandable. An angry teenager who steals beer and pulls stupid pranks and walks out of town without a word? Dick moves, all of them. But Lorelai had never seen anything else from Jess. She had never made the effort to. She didn’t know him.

As she met Lorelai’s eyes once again, Ella gave a careful, sincere nod. “Really. I get to work on my art every day. I get to collect records and plant cactuses and I get to...I don’t have to live for anyone else. I even get to make pies, when I don’t have nine stitches in my side. I never wanted...I never wanted much else.”

“I know,” Lorelai replied, voice hushed with emotion. She glanced back over at her shoulder at the two men in the kitchen, now begrudgingly tag-teaming the desserts. “And Jess?”

. . .

The light was fading to an orangey glow by the time everyone had finished up dessert. Julie, Michael, and the girls had to start the drive to New Britain back almost right after, since Michael had work the following morning. Ella was sad to see them go. They were the ones who made her ache for her mother in a not altogether unpleasant way. The day Ella had lost her mother, Julie had lost her big sister. Forever, the two of them would be linked by the trauma. But not just the trauma. Julie provided a home away from home when Ella needed one. And Ella was a makeshift babysitter whenever Julie called. Julie was the only member of Ella’s family who was truly reliable, the one she could count on. Aside from the family she had found in Philadelphia.

But the apartment was still lively with noise as afternoon slowly melted away into evening. Liz and TJ danced near the kitchen to the sound of the Grateful Dead record on the turntable. Off in their own strange world. Ella didn’t mind. She’d been giving Jess’s hand comforting squeezes all day long, noticing how his shoulders were just a touch more tense and his words came out in short, anxious bursts when he spoke to his mother. He wasn’t completely miserable, though. At least, that was what he told her each time she asked.

Maybe the work of setting up the apartment and serving the food helped, keeping him busy. No matter how many times she tried to help him arrange the card tables for everyone to sit at, or put out the dishes, or clean any noticeably dirty surface, he’d only shrugged her off with some snarky remark and made her sit down. Once Luke and Lorelai got there, she could barely shift in her seat without one of the three pairs of watchful eyes landing on her in concern. It was sweet of them, really, but still made her squirm under their gaze. And pissed that she couldn’t enjoy the first Thanksgiving in the apartment the way she wanted to.

Stomach as full as it could be (the surgery had left her appetite at next to nothing), she sat comfortably on the old couch, Luke and Lorelai in the folding chairs across the card table from her. Luke was busy ranting about how corrupt Black Friday and malls in general were to Lorelai, making a sentimental twinkle spark in Ella’s hazel eyes. She was glad they’d had enough room to fit three tables in the space, with four seats at each. The set-up was arguably too tight, but they’d managed. Erin and Annie had only spilled two cups of milk over the course of the night.

Ella felt a sleepy calm beginning to settle in her body. Through the sliding glass doors, she could see a little sliver of the sunset. Soon, the sky would cloud over and there would be another spray of early snow. The room smelled of wintry spices and hot gravy. Jess still hadn’t reached Luke’s level of perfection, but he had done a pretty damn good job with dinner. And, she had to admit, the pies weren’t too shabby either. It shocked her how seamlessly he had pulled it all off, in his element as he put it together. Though not without a scowl and some huffy breaths.

Ella looked back at Jess, sitting to her left. He held Doula in his arms. She sat on his lap, facing him, as his hands gently supported her back. She was a little over six months old, and almost able to sit up on her own. But, Jess figured it’d be best to keep his hands where they were for some insurance. The baby had somehow tugged the pendant of his necklace out from beneath his shirt, and was alternating between staring at it in wonderment and sucking on it. Jess was having some murmured conversation with her, and she occasionally responded with a gurgle or a coo. Even a laugh when he tickled her stomach.

Ella watched in awe. She remembered how terrified he’d been when he’d first met her nieces, at a Thanksgiving long past. But, now, he handled his sister, along with her nieces, with such ease. He had found a deck of cards for old time’s sake, put on a little magic show for the kids during the lull between dinner and dessert. He’d convinced Annie the smaller half of the wishbone was still lucky when Erin had broken off the bigger half. Just because it didn’t look as big, he said, didn’t mean the magic wasn’t as big. When he realized Ella had caught him saying it, he’d looked away with a scarlet flush and cleared his throat. Sometimes, she could really see the writer in the way he spoke.

“What about Hemingway?” he asked quietly as Doula looked up from the pendant with giant brown eyes and drool dripping down her chin.

Doula gave a little squawk of noise, then swatted one sticky hand up to pat Jess’s face. He scrunched up his nose and chuckled. Then, Doula went back to marveling at the small, circular pendant.

“See?” Jess said, tossing a glance at Ella. He could feel her soft gaze. “Doula likes Hemingway.”

Ella scoffed. “Then her taste is just as bad as her brother’s.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Jess said to the baby, leaning in with a conspiratory whisper. “She likes poetry. Like she can criticize anyone for their taste.”

Narrowing her eyes playfully at Jess, Ella put an arm around his shoulders and inched closer to the two of them. “What about Byron, Doula?”

Doula didn’t look up, instead grabbing the pocket of Jess’s t-shirt in her pudgy fist.

Jess smirked pointedly at Ella.

Ella rolled her eyes. “You’ve taken her to the dark side already.”

“If you mean the right side, then yes,” Jess shot back.

Snorting a laugh, Ella pressed a kiss to Jess’s cheek. Her freckled face became almost wistful. Her raspy whisper near his ear was so sincere it made Jess’s stomach do a flip. “I love you.”

“Love you back,” Jess replied, his voice barely audible over all the others in the room.

She was almost surprised he said anything at all. She hadn’t expected reciprocation with so many people around, and it made a joyful tingling spread from her center out to her fingers and toes. She ran an absent hand through the ends of his hair, a smile painted on her lips.

“Thank you for doing this, Jess,” she said. “You’re the fucking best.”

“Language, Eleanor,” Jess scolded, gesturing playfully to Doula, who still fiddled obliviously with the necklace.

Ella snickered. “Right, sorry, sorry. I’m just...you didn’t have to do all this. I’m sorry about everything. I didn’t mean to go and get appendicitis.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, eyes still trained carefully on the baby in case something unforeseen happened. He was more confident in his childcare abilities than he had once been, but there was still an untrained fear within him that she would tumble straight out of his lap. “Don’t worry, Stevens. I don’t do things I don’t wanna do.”

“Sure you don’t, James Dean,” she teased. “You’re not a good liar.”

“Look who’s talking,” he quipped in return, a smirk still present on his face. “Besides, it was better than scraping plates in the diner all day at Thanksgiving. After doing that a couple years in a row, it’s pretty much nowhere to go but up from now on.”

“It’s true,” she said. “Maybe I should do the dishes, just in case there’s any rogue knives in the sink.”

“Very funny,” he deadpanned, thinking of the scar which had almost completely faded from his left hand. “But I’m still not falling for it. You’re not helping me clean up. You’re gonna watch Carrie and then fall asleep so we don’t have to go back to the hospital with your guts spilling out.”

“I’m not allowed to swear in front of her, but you’re allowed to say stuff like that?” Ella asked, laughing through her words.

“Hey, I don’t make the rules,” Jess joked coolly.

“You really don’t need to clean up by yourself,” Ella continued, not budging. “My stitches aren’t even in the double digits. I could at least help you put the leftovers away.”

“The next time you find me passed out on the bathroom floor with a high fever, then you can tell me all about how much you want to see me cleaning the apartment,” Jess said.

Her smile disappeared. Sighing through her nose in embarrassment, Ella nodded. She swallowed dryly. “Fair enough.”

She couldn’t have been out for more than thirty seconds or a minute. She didn't hit her head or anything. The bathmat had cushioned her fall almost entirely. But she had never passed out before. She’d felt almost as terrified as Jess sounded when he practically carried down to the car and sped to the emergency room. He was right. If the situation were reversed, there was no way in hell he’d be cleaning up alongside her. Especially not a day and a half after surgery. She had to remember the last time she hadn’t been feeling like herself. With a migraine and period cramps right when she felt as though everyone was expecting the most from her. But it was just in her head. It was okay to let go every once in a while. It was okay. She reminded herself that he wasn’t trying to tell her what to do. He was only asking her to take care of herself. That, she could try. She didn’t ever want to put him out like this again. And she didn’t ever want to see the look she had seen on his face when he’d been driving to the hospital again. Not if she could help it.

“But, if it’ll make you feel better, we can have everyone over next weekend and do Thanksgiving food,” Jess suggested. “Chris was pissed he was missing the pies. I don’t think he’d mind if we had a do-over.”

“Yeah, that sounds good, Mariano,” she said. Then, after a moment’s pause: “I’m sorry. I know I can get so wound up.”

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” he teased.

“I was just excited for my pies,” she admitted. “But, just for the record, you did a kickass job with them. Sorry I was freaking out.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “So, you’re not a good patient. Who cares? I was excited for your pies too. Just please don’t make rhubarb. All the rhubarb makes me think about is Kirk running naked through the town square that time after Christmas.”

And she felt a beaming smile spread over her face as she laughed and gave him a nod of confirmation. She pressed another kiss to his cheek and told him she would make him any pie he wanted. And she felt even more sure of the words she’d spoken to Lorelai the day before. Lorelai had been surprised to hear them, but Ella couldn’t bring herself to be even the least bit shocked as they’d come out of her mouth. She felt it more confidently than she ever had before, seeing him cradle his baby sister in the aftermath of a Thanksgiving he’d put together all by himself, without being asked. Because Jess was Jess. And it was just what he did. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

#jess mariano #jess #mariano #jess mariano x oc #jess mariano x oc fanfiction #jess mariano fanfiction #jess fanfiction #gilmore girls #gilmore #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls au #jess mariano au #gilmore girls oc fanfiction #oc #original character #oc fanfiction #lorelai gilmore #luke danes

32 notes · View notes

smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Black Coffee - Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF Credit: X

@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad!

Nolan Sorrento + 15 - “I’d kill for a coffee... literally.” Yo @mendelskrull - I remember a tag of yours once saying that you also love the CEO x PA trope, so I went full on with this! Please enjoy! 😘❤

Author’s Note: I think this was originally just meant to be a cute watching him make coffee scenario and then I kind kept building on it and now we have this. I’m really coming into my own with writing for him - considering how hard it’s been for me in the past... Anyway, I really like this one. It was a lot of fun!

Disclaimer: RPO Characters not mine / lyrics not mine / gif credit as appropriate (Thanks again Joss!)

Premise: As much as you like bringing coffee to your CEO, it’s just as enjoyable when he returns the favour. Maybe you can persuade him that it’s not the only thing that can wake him up this morning...

Words: 2580

Warnings: sexual connotations

_________ Day dreamin', chain smokin' Always laughin', always jokin' I remain the same Did I tell you that I love you? Brush your teeth and pour a cup of Black coffee out - I love to watch you do that every day The little things that you do Each moment is new Freeze the moment Each moment is cool Freeze the moment I wouldn't wanna be Anywhere else but here I wouldn't wanna change Anything at all

---

Both of you were rushing. You weren’t exactly sure why, because the CEO of IOI was never late for anything, not even a supplier meeting – even when he was probably running five minutes behind schedule. You might shoulder the blame for trying to catch him just before he ought to be heading to it, but a certain someone decided to drag you into his office for a makeout session and now had to run halfway across the building to his meeting room. With you giving chase if only to go through what you ACTUALLY had to remind him of, and what you’d tried to catch him for in the first place. Eventually Nolan realised the same as you – he couldn’t be late! - and slowed down; heck, he didn’t want to turn up to a meeting out of breath as it was, that would raise a bunch of awkward questions. So you actually got to tick things off your list as he instructed you. And finally you got to the one you were the most curious about; “Oh! Nolan! Why does your dentist keep ringing? It’s the 5th time this week!” You’d had the note on your desk for the past few weeks, but it was always something he’d get to - you were started to get annoyed at having to pick up the phone to them. His face flushed, “Oh don’t worry about it!” “Well I do worry when I ring back and they’ll only talk to you!” You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’m your assistant Nolan, it’s literally my job to book things like this-!” “It’ll be okay!” He waved away your suggestion. “Really? Nolan! What are you doing to your teeth-?!” “Nothing-!” But his voice pitched and you reckoned that couldn’t be further from the truth. “Your teeth are fine the way they are! I like them...” Then your head tilted, “Well, okay, maybe if you smoked a little less.” He scoffed, giving you a sharp look, “That’s enough outta you!” But you thought it was important to also keep his health at the forefront of your mind. Nolan’s smoking habit was casual, but he still did it.

As you rounded the corner to the meeting room Nolan stopped dead, and it became clear that he hadn’t made a note of exactly what he was about to walk into. “Oh god who invited them-!” No, they certainly weren’t one of his favourite vendors, he’d made that apparent when he asked you to book it in. “Uhhh, it’s been on your calendar for like 2 weeks.” “Really?!” “Mhm - I did remind you yesterday morning.” “I was a little... distracted yesterday morning.” He better not have been blaming you again. “Uh huh.” You pushed the folder in your hands into his arms, and waited for his hesitant hands to take it, this was only one part of what he needed and you needed Nolan to focus on you right now so you could hand it all over, “Go get ‘em.” It was at least a little sarcastic, he would hate every second. “Oh god…” He blew out a breath, free hand to his forehead, “I’d kill for a coffee... literally.” - yeah, it’d be them being killed, too. “Black?” It was like an instant response, with a soft smile He smiled, “You know my order by now, c’mon.” “Well,” you grinned “just wanted to check you didn’t want it extra strong-!” You knew how much Nolan hated this particular group of suppliers. “Ehh, good call, wouldn’t go amiss-!” “Will you need anything else, Sir?” You handed his tablet over, files he’d need for the meeting already pulled up, awaiting him to call upon them. “No, thank you Y/N, this should be sufficient.” You smiled sweetly, the gentle touch to his arm encouraging, “You’ve got this.” His hand hovered over yours for a minute, but he didn’t touch you – remembering himself, “I surely have.” You liked the confidence in his smile. You gave a nod, turning to leave and then back to him; “Should I get one for anyone else?” For one, you knew that to bring him one you would have to walk into the meeting with it – and people would become curious as to why they weren’t all being offered coffee. Nolan immediately scoffed; “NO.” You sighed, knowing that was hardly the way to treat important guests even if he despised them, “I’ll have some sent up and I’ll go out for yours.” He nodded in agreement, “This is the kind of thinking I hired you for, right?” There was a sudden glint in your eyes that made Nolan shiver; “Sure, if that’s what you tell yourself.” But immediately that sugar sweet smile was back “I’ll make sure I don’t send up the good coffee!” Then you winked, “Have a good meeting, Sir.” You got halfway down the corridor before you remembered one last important thing coming up; and luckily, as you expected, Nolan was watching you leave. He always was predictable. “Oh! You’re ready for the conference next week, right?” “Yeah! Yeah! It’s gonna be a good one - presentation and notes being reviewed as we speak-!” “As long as you’re on top of things-!” You nodded and turned to go make him coffee, but Nolan called you back. “Oh! Y/N!” “Mhm?” “You are coming to the conference with me, right? I’m gonna need someone to keep track of things for me...” You smiled “Yes, I’m going with you. That is my job, Sir.” Nolan nodded, mind already wandering, “Good... that’s good.” “Anything else?” “No, no, Y/N - carry on-!”

*** The conference was four days long, starting on a Sunday of all days. Which meant you both arrived on Saturday, to give you a day to settle in. Two rooms were always booked, only one was ever used. You thought you were either IOI’s best kept, or worst kept, secret. No one ever acted like they knew, or even hinted it – but it wasn’t like Nolan made anything about his flirting or checking you out subtle. You’d seen him lean back in his chair with a raised eyebrow, rolling his tongue over his bottom lip at your too high heels and too short skirt before (not that you thought these things, but occasionally some of the bitches that worked here would make comments of their own.). Not that you minded, half of your work wardrobe you picked out and wore for him. The first day had been a lot of fun, he’d had a few client meetings, but aside from that, it had been wandering around stands and prospecting. IOI had their own of course, and Nolan had spent a long time making sure it was perfect, before thanking everyone manning it for being here. He of course was giving a workshop of his own – not only that, but he was Tuesday’s keynote speaker. A very important role. You were here to make sure everything ran smoothly, that Nolan was where he was supposed to be at the right times, that he had everything he needed and that you were picking up all his emails & calls whilst he was busy. Such was your role as his PA. But a role you couldn’t have enjoyed more if you’d tried. You liked reading emails to him out loud in your most sarcastic tone depending on what people had sent him, and Nolan would ask you to type his reply just as sarcastically, which most of the time would have you in stitches. Before he had enough of you standing around in his button up and dragged you to bed for something he would consider far more fun. With Sunday out of the way, and Monday consisting of a celebrity Keynote, and some workshops Nolan wished to attend himself – you weren’t that bothered about settling into your day until this afternoon, where you’d have to set the room up for him. Although you were checking in with IOI news as he got ready, enjoying the background noise of him pacing the room to get washed and dressed; the scratch of his razor against his skin, the slide of silk tie against cotton shirt, click of watch strap into place. “How we doing?” “Stock is up.” You mumbled, smiling gently as he leant over to kiss your shoulder, “…Matthew’s rerun sales numbers and they’re better than projected… uhm, Carlo says there’s a routine system upgrade tomorrow but you should know about it?” “UH. I think I remember him mentioning, it yeah…” You glanced at him over your shoulder as he neatened his hair in the mirror. That kind of response meant that Nolan didn’t have a clue, you rolled your eyes, typical. At least you were on top of things. “Also…” You rolled yourself in the sheets so you were facing the end of the bed and the wider room where he was, “I need to run through your day, even though I’ve pinged it to your calendar, so I know that I’ve told you-!” Nolan chuckled, crossing the room to the coffee machine, “You don’t trust me, huh?” “You wouldn’t want me to be honest, would you sir?” You were lucky that raise a smirk rather than an upset look – he knew you were teasing. He poured – Nolan had this very meticulous slow pour, and always bit his lip when he concentrated on it. As his name would suggest – he would insist that Italian coffee was the only good coffee, and when he made it the way that he did, you weren’t about to disagree with him. You groaned from the bed watching him, even the position he stood in gave you all the lines of his body under that sharp suit. Apparently it was a little louder than you expected by the way he turned to you with a smirk; “You okay over there, darling?” It was your turn to bite your lip as he stirred in just the correct amount of sugar for you, and a dash of milk – you were not the black coffee drinker here. “I would be if you came back to bed.” “Oh no…” Nolan’s voice was sultry as he walked back over, holding the mug out for you he ran a hand through your hair, just enough of a tug to force you to look up at him. Your lips parted and his blue eyes flashed, “I should let you recover from last night.” You shivered in delight at the way he was looking at you, and your body was already telling you that recovery was the last thing it wanted. You took the cup quickly, clearing your throat and looking away from him as you blushed. “J-Just let me tell you your schedule!” “Oh my god, will you just stop until I’ve had some of this.” He waved his hand and slid back over to the machine to pour his own – straight black, with no sweetness. The kind of coffee a ruthless CEO would drink. You knew there was a lot of sweetness under there, he just didn’t show it to anyone else. Nolan came back and sat beside you, sipping his coffee thoughtfully and nodding along as you relayed the schedule to him – propped up on one arm as you read from the tablet. Every so often he had several presentations at the same time that he’d have to choose from, or some that might conflict with client meetings; “You can send someone else to the meeting… or… I could go to the workshop for you and report back?” He regarded you with playful curiosity; “Oh? You’d be interested in some of these?” “They do sound rather good – yeah.” You blinked up at him, “You’re a little more interesting.” “Oh really?” Nolan grinned, taking a gulp of coffee and leaning over your shoulder to pick some out with your help. Eventually you had three days’ worth of scheduling down (for him and yourself), and if he wanted to go to the keynote and his first workshop he ought to be leaving your side right now. Instead he was taking his time, sweet talking you and finishing his coffee. With his casual string of flirting, and your body still telling you to drag him back to bed and relieve him of that suit and tie, you couldn’t help but nearly beg him to stay. You couldn’t even talk for fear of what might come out of your mouth, only sipping your coffee as you listened to him. Watching the nuances of his face, and the way he moved his hands; Nolan had a lot of ticks and tells – and they all meant something different. It was as much your job to read these as his employee, as it was your job as his lover. But each one was fascinating – and today every movement was the story of a man that couldn’t leave; but knew he should. You took your final sip and placed the mug on the floor before looking back to him; “Nolan.” “Yes?” “Don’t you think you should be heading off?” Nolan hesitated, as if that didn’t say everything; “…Kicking me out now?” “I just don’t want to see the CEO I’m looking after be reprimanded for being late.” He tipped his mug back and set it, empty, next to yours. “Well, my PA probably has a point…” He straightened his cuffs and brushed himself down, before turning to you. But he paused and this was a fatal mistake. You’d had enough – and Nolan was hesitating – you reached out and grabbed his tie, tugging him to your lips. The sheets slipped from your body and he covered you instead – causing your needy sigh against his lips. “Y- Y/N…” He swallowed hard, “If you’re so insistent I go, then I really should.” But you were both playing the game of who could hold out the longest – who would be the one to say it? Truth was you weren’t so concerned with winning the game – just with having him back between your thighs under the sheets. “Just come back to bed... it’s not that important, right?” Nolan scoffed, but his hands were already finding yours, and he wasn’t using them to hinder your progress on his tie; “You’re the one who spent the last 30 minutes telling me how important my schedule is.” “As if you don’t change it on me last minute all the time when we’re in the office?” You raised an eyebrow and mocked his voice; “OH, Y/N, really – please, not this meeting. Push it out.” He growled, displeased, before claiming your lips roughly again, “If I wasted good coffee for nothing.” “I got to watch you make it, certainly not a waste of anything.” You pulled him back so that you could taste him; it almost tasted better from his kisses than it did from a cup. “Oh? Do you get off on that?” You gave him a wink, “It’s the little pleasures, Nolan Sorrento. About time someone taught you that…” He laid you back properly, placing a kiss to your neck, and again to your shoulder. “Well, I would like to learn…” His hands ran smoothly down your body and you sighed against the travel, “Maybe you could be my first workshop of the day.” You smirked, winding your arms around him and running your hands into his hair; “Gladly, Mr.Sorrento.” As it turned out the conference that morning wasn’t so important after all.

---

7/16 - Nearly at the halfway point!!! Thank you for requesting! 💙 Thank YOU for reading! 😘😘

#nolan sorrento #nolan sorrento x reader #ready player one #ben mendelsohn #There will never be enough Nolan Sorrento on my blog #Fun fact: I've already used the song /coffee/ - there's a draft called /black/ and this one is /black coffee/#Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes requests #smol bean drabbles #SO this is more a /the sentence is the theme/#I'm very surprised this needed very little editing! Which is a nice change #But it was kinda find the way it was :)#But some is from my phone notes so when copying it over i usually do a little bit of editing...#Theres SOOOOO much Nolan in my drafts at the moment oh my goodness #how did THAT happen #159 #YOOOO Dave is gonna me my 160? That makes me irrationally happy!#i forgot that I added the teeth thing and spent 10 minutes laughing at myself #Look it doesn't bother me but I thought at some point someone was gonna have to ask the question or mention it!!

47 notes · View notes

dailyaudiobible · 3 years

Text

01/07/2021 DAB Transcript

Genesis 16:1-18:15, Matthew 6:1-24, Psalms 7:1-17, Proverbs 2:1-5

Today is the 7th day of January welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it's great to be here with you today. This is day seven of the New Year. So, we've technically we are…or we are technically accomplishing our first week together in the Scriptures, even though we’re kind of in the middle of the first full week of this year. And look at how much ground we have covered in that amount of time. You see…you see now the Bible…the Bible is very relevant when we start looking behind the stories behind the customs behind the clothes that they were wearing behind how the world was thousands of years ago. When we look behind that we realize the human hearts longs for God and we have been longing for God and reaching for God and we have this chronicling of God over time, revealing Himself to us and that is timeless. We long for the same sense of union with our Creator and a context for what this life is all about just as our ancestors did over the last thousands of years. And the Bible is timeless as it deals with and pokes and prods and comforts and nourishes and cares for our hearts. So, congratulations…even though we’re in the middle of the week…congratulations on making it through a week of this new year. And let’s dive in. We’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week. Genesis chapter 16 verse 1 through 18 verse 15.

Commentary:

Okay. So, in our reading from the book of Genesis today we have this situation where Abraham now does have a son. His name is Ishmael it’s just not by his wife Sarah. And it was Sarah and Abraham who were given the promise of offspring. And, so, there's obvious tensions that have arisen inside the family and those tensions…those tensions still exist in the world until this very day. And, so, Abraham's waiting and he’s 99 years old. So, the Lord comes and reaffirms the promise, “this time next year your wife is going to be holding a baby boy.” And she's laughing at that because although it may be a promise from God it is also impossible. It's an impossible promise. She has moved beyond the age of bearing children, well beyond the age of bearing children. Abraham’s 99 years old. So, yeah, it doesn't look like that's a promise that can be fulfilled. And, so, she's, you know, maybe just to protect her own heart and her own hope just kind of dismissing it. And yet God won't let it be dismissed and he presses in on it and confronts the laughter and essentially asks a very very important question for all of us, “is anything impossible for the Lord?” That question might seem like, “well…we would all…of course we would answer ‘no, nothing is impossible for the Lord. The Lord can do whatever he wants’”. But we don't really functionally live as if He will, and we certainly don't function and live as if He will for us on our behalf. And, so, it might as well just to be impossible, right? his is where the mirror comes up. This is what we were talking about a few minutes ago. This is where we look behind the story of the Bible and realize this is a hard issue, as are all of these stories. Where is my faith? Do I believe that? Because that's what we’re supposed to wrestle with. We’re looking at Abraham and Sarah. And believe me when I tell you this, had they chosen differently there would be no Bible. There may be some kind of Bible it might be called something different, but it would be full of completely different people. Right now Abraham and Sarah, we’re looking at them and going, yeah they’re famous Old Testament characters”, but I'm telling you they…they color everything that happens from here. And this trust, this faith that we are seeing come from Abraham toward God, that is fundamental, foundational Christian theology that will be unpacked very meticulously when we find our way into the letters of Paul.

We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves because we’re in the Gospels and we’re sitting at the feet of Jesus and we want to do that, we want to do that as long as we can this year and just listen to what He is saying. And what we see Him saying is a continuation that we’re living a backward life. We’re living a life that is not going to lead to life. And what He says today is it…it…it is largely about prayer and largely about caring for the less fortunate and the most vulnerable in our cultures. And yes, indeed we are supposed to step into that and be a part of the solution. But Jesus is saying, “the thing is just do it. Don't do it so that you will be praised. Do it because it's right. Do it because it's in your heart to do. Do it because it's what God would have you do not so that you can be seen doing it otherwise you have your reward. You did it to achieve praise and to continue to construct this image that you are presenting to the world called your personality. You did it to embellish that construct that you are presenting to the world.” So, you got what you wanted. People clapped their hands and praised you and thought you were super spiritual and awesome. There is no other reward. You got your reward. But if you want to do this true, if you want to stop living false wearing a mask feeling naked and ashamed and hiding then you have to live true. Do it because it's what God would have you do. It's in your heart to do. Don't let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, then you're doing it for the right and true reasons.” But Jesus also said something today that is so profound and so black-and-white and so completely ignored that if we would pay attention and it would finally lock into place then so much of the rest of our lives would make sense. Jesus said, “if you forgive others their offenses, your heavenly Father will forgive you as well. But if you don't forgive others your Father will not forgive your offenses”, right? And that's coming right on the heels of the Lord's prayer, “forgive us our debts or our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” In other words, the Lord's prayer is asking God to forgive us as we forgive others. I know we’re just getting going, we’re just getting unpacked on this voyage, we’re just moving in, we’re just getting our bearings and then this comes along and it’s like, “wait. What? I never really…what? I have to forgive in order to find forgiveness?” That's the way of God's kingdom according to Jesus, who is God made flesh. And it's really easy. We’ve just come through the holiday season. Maybe there's brand-new offenses that we’re licking our wounds over. But maybe there’s this long-running stuff in our lives. Everybody...everybody has been broken at some point. We have been the offender many times and have had our hearts broken but we have been the offender as well. Like we are broken people who break things. And the thing that we break the best is other people. And it's not true and it's not right. And it's not God's kingdom. And, so, here's Jesus inserting this idea, this truth into our lives, “forgive and you will be forgiven.” And we can just be like, “that's not fair. The things that have happened to me I can't even hardly…I can’t even say out loud.” And we can confront it with things like this, we’re in the Bible, we’re like, “gosh…I just don’t like that. I just don't…I don’t even know how to move in that direction, like the direction of forgiveness, which is so booby-trapped and so complicated, and so full of so many moving parts. We can become frustrated and feel as if what God is trying to do is box us in with a bunch of rules that are really really difficult sometimes to live into. That's not the goal here. Like, that…that…that's not the God of the Bible. Like that's not what's happening here. There are plenty of directives and rules and commandments in the Bible. Things that we are to obey, things that we are to be, and things that we are to live. Indeed, that's true. Is the point because the Almighty sovereign God, the most-high God who not only created this lush and beautiful planet that we live on that…but has created the universe as far as we can know and as far as we can know is only the beginning. You think he’s so uptight that He needs to just keep creating rules for humanity on this little spec, this little ball in the middle of his creation? He just needs to jack with us all the time to show us that were failures? I think probably He's more-high than we can possibly comprehend, more powerful than we could ever know, well beyond what we could ever think. And yet He still loves us and still came in person to show us how to be true and how to actually live life as it was intended to be lived in union, in covenant with God. And we’re seeing this covenantal language begin to materialize in the Old Testament. It will carry its way forward all the way to the end of the Bible. God's goal is our restoration so that we might be who we were created to be. Living in unforgiveness makes that impossible. All things are possible with God. But when we shut it down and say this is my will and then God is a gentleman and says, “you can have what you want but it's not going to go anywhere and it's not going to lead you to life.” Forgiveness is essential in God's kingdom because forgiveness then removes things, entanglements between us and other people. And imagine for a moment what it might be like to live with nothing between you and anyone else, right? There are no offenses. You are true and you are disentangled. But the only way for that to happen is to live in forgiveness, rapid forgiveness, which obviously isn't easy, which obviously is a practice, something that we practice, something that we master over time. And, so, we begin by just opening our hands and releasing things to God understanding that forgiveness isn't…isn't affirming anybody's actions. By us letting somebody go, by us setting someone free, by us for giving we’re not saying it was okay, we’re not denying that it happened, we’re just saying I'm not staying in these chains anymore, I’m not staying chained to that person anymore, they’re not even in my life and yet I'm still chained to them because I won’t…because I won't let it go…because I won't let go. When we let go, we release these people and these events to God. God is the judge. We release them to God so that we don't have to carry it around anymore. So, what Jesus is doing is perhaps telling us something very difficult but He is telling us something essential if we actually want to live, to live free and true.

Prayer:

Jesus, we enter into that. It is a tricky difficult subject. It is also a topic that will be a recurring theme in the Bible because we cannot let this go. You didn’t just mention it one time and think that we wouldn't forget. This is something constant. It's something that You modeled with Your very life when You said Father forgive them because they don't know what they're doing as You were being killed. So, Holy Spirit, come and let that sink in. We are to follow the path of the Savior. We are to become Christ like by being like Christ. Help us with that Lord. That's not…that’s not possible in our own strength. This is one of these situations where we do have to open our hands and surrender to You so the impossible becomes possible. Help us learn how to forgive. It starts right here. Seven days in the year. Now we can start practicing this because by the end of the year we will be a master at this if we continue to press in to what might be like to be true, to be the hands and feet of Jesus, to be the Jesus with skin on in this world, to be Your ambassadors, to be Your representatives in this world. We can’t do that without forgiveness. So, come Holy Spirit teach us how to forgive we pray. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Song:

Matthew West - Forgiveness

2 notes · View notes

pluviophile-bookworm · 4 years

Text

Thoughts/ reaction to AWAE 3x5

The cold open featuring Beekeeper Gilbert is the golden content I never knew I needed.

Miss Stacy teaching in the midst of nature is gold, but what draws my attention in that scene is the casual mentioning of the birds and the bees that causes half of the girls to get agitated at the thought that they’re finally getting the talk. I see bees are a recurring image in this episode. I admit to not having seen much of this particular scene as I was looking away from the blood.

Gilbert combining his natural talent as a doctor and his new… I wanna say hobby, that is, beekeeping, to help poor baby Ruby is gold. Seriously, this episode has GOLD written all over it in large bold letters and we’re barely 4 minutes in.

“I thought someone died…” The natives calling out the Whites™ for being drama queens have me wondering whose side I am on, and whether there are any sides at all; the fact is, I tend to overreact a lot, but this was a bit too much even for me. But let’s not dwell on this, there are more important scenes coming up and I have already used way too many words.

Yeah… I skipped ahead a bit. The sight of that needle caused me as much horror as it did Moody.

Gilbert ranting about natural medicine not being taught is such a mood. I think taking up beekeeping will do (and is already doing) wonders for his career in medicine.

Rachel babysitting Delly is giving me such strong New Mum vibes… “Please go to sleep”. This is the Rachel Lynde content I never expected to see but I’m glad I did.

And then Delly falls asleep as soon as she hears Marilla’s voice… I’m crying.

“Bash needs a wife” – who are you to decide that for him, Rachel? I was already annoyed with her for trying to play matchmaker for Miss Stacy without being asked to, but this is even more. Marilla is such a mood in this scene.

Matthew being Soft™ to his plants… as if I needed any more proof that he’s a Hufflepuff!

I live and would die for Anne and Diana’s friendship.

I also live for Diana embracing her own feelings rather than her mother’s visions of what’s “proper” and “improper”. And for the hint of her doing it just partially to spite her mother…

Honestly, Gilbert staying inside and reading the paper with Miss Stacy while everyone else is fussing about the Take Notice board is so in character. It emphasizes the fact that he is actually the adult of the class. I wonder what would make him more interested in the board, though…

Anne the Feminist™ is fascinated about the female doctor

Ok, but… who gives Charlie, by “noticing” Anne, and Diana, by walking in on her and Gilbert almost having a moment, the right to interrupt said moment before it’s even fully developed?

Anne is totally me in her reaction to (1) being noticed and (2) the news about the dance.

“Sebastian, take a seat.” If I were Bash in that scene, I would be thinking “How about you stop telling me what to do in my own home?”

Now she wants to take Delly away from him? And she thinks that’s good for anyone? Seriously, Rachel Lynde should mind her own business. But I bet she has no business of her own, otherwise she wouldn’t obsess so much over what everyone else is doing.

Anne’s reaction to Charlie posting about her gives off “Belle Reprise” from Beauty and the Beast vibes.

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert-Sloane!” Try Anne Shirley-Cuthbert-Blythe instead. And boy, does this girl have a lot of last names! She’s becoming a bit like Hispanic royalty.

Both Jerry and Diana telling white lies to their friends so they can meet up – classic forbidden romance. I love it!

Look at my boy Jerry quoting Frankenstein! I feel like a proud mother – except, of course, for the fact that I am not a mother and I have no trace of merit in this beautiful achievement. Also, the way she holds the book to her heart, like it’s him, or at least a tiny part of him; and the way he looks back at her… I know this is a whole other fandom, but Andi Mack has taught me that lookbacks are important. My fragile little heart is melting! I might be aromantic by orientation, but I’m still a sucker for beautiful, poetic romantic scenes like this one. This is my new favourite scene of the entire series. If I could bottle it up and save it for a rainy day, oh how I would!

The scene of Gilbert and Bash talking about Mary being followed immediately by Matthew talking to Belle about her becoming a mum… I feel that they are a heartbreaking yet heartwarming representation of the cycle of life and death. Moira has done it again.

Also, Anne’s dress in this scene reminds me of the first dress she was wearing when she arrived. It’s a nice callback, if anything.

That scene of Diana reading in bed reminded me so much of me. I know that feeling so well, feeling a special connection to a book, even for some reason outside the book itself. And, sure, Frankenstein is far from the most romantic of books, but now it will forever be a thing between her and Jerry. And that’s in my opinion, is that special external connection to the book.

Aaand… Rachel Lynde didn’t just try to make the practice dance another matchmaking session for her son and Miss Stacy, did she?

I know everybody talks about Anne and Gilbert in this scene, but my eyes were more focused on my spirit animal Ruby – she is so me, being uncomfortable with the whole thing and the touching and whatnot… except in her it is the result of boys and girls being discouraged from making any kind of contact to one another until they’re old enough for courtship according to their community’s standards. What did people at that time think when they did that? That giving young people virtually no sex ed and doing anything and everything they could to keep boys and girls away from each other – did they think this is the way to raise functional, well-informed people? Because seeing poor Ruby here sure makes me think that her society didn’t do a very good job at that. And the fact that all the girls, even the ones that should pass as intelligent and well-read like Anne and Diana, believe they can get pregnant by just the touch of a boy is just another proof that this is not the way to raise teenagers.

One thing that calms me at least a little is that now they have Miss Stacy and she can, albeit a bit awkwardly at first, educate them on the matter. And I love the fact that she mentions consent because that is really important.

And there’s the sugar – the heart eyes, the longing looks, the held gaze… every single trope about looking at someone special is there in that one scene. I love the way they act so expressively with just their eyes. Seriously, kudos to Amybeth and especially Lucas.

Oh my, there it is! That scene from the preview that everybody has been speculating and freaking out about for weeks. I got literal chills, goosebumps and everything. This scene generated a lot of discourse and it was definitely not for nothing.

Oh my, oh my! The dance is done but they just won’t stop staring right into each other’s souls through those fantastically expressive eyes… I might just die right now, but at least I’ll die happy.

Aaand… the moment is gone and now there’s just tension and awkwardness so thick in the air that you could cut them with a knife – and a knife might not even do the job, if you get what I mean.

Ok, I didn’t think things could get any more awkward, but then we have the exchange with Charlie and it’s even more awkward than Moody telling Diana “[her] dress is very… blue” back in the season premiere. But this awkwardness is different. There’s no tension, no real chemistry. At least that’s how I see it.

The parallel between Anne and Gilbert cooking and ranting about the dance and its consequences for them counts as a Shirbert scene, right?

I love Anne with all my heart but right now I wish she could just go away for a second. She’s third-wheeling and making Diana act cold towards Jerry, which might give him the wrong impression and ruin everything…

Also, I wish Diana would confide in Anne about the thing she has going on with Jerry. It couldn’t possibly make matters worse, now could it?

If Jerry was so confused, and then so happy about the handkerchief, it probably wasn’t really his. It must have been left by Diana. The initials, though… the only J.B. in Diana’s family I can think of is Josephine. If it was hers and Diana left it for Jerry, it would be so nice… Ok, why am I being so stupid? She MADE it for him. Especially. J.B. is him and only him right now. Apparently certain other scenes have temporarily deprived me of the ability to think.

The “Is that how reproduction works” scene is awkward, of course, and it is a different, third kind of awkward: not like Shirbert after the dance or like Anne and Charlie after that. It’s that kind of awkward moments that people with anxiety like me think of when they can’t sleep at night. I mean, just imagine asking your big love to give you the talk. Or having to give the talk to them.

Ruby, Ruby, my sweet summer child Ruby… “what has he seen”? He’s literally delivered a child, for one. Unprepared, at that. But seriously, Gilbert being all like “in my medical experience” – okay, we get it, Mr. Mature Adult Doctor. No offense, though, I love him.

That obituary was just about the best homage they could have paid to Mary, and Bash reading the whole thing to Delphine was both heartbreaking and heartwarming. Now that I use those two words for the second time in relation to Mary’s passing, I feel like these are the emotions I feel about it every time. Every single time.

Baby Delly is the most precious little thing I’ve ever seen.

The Barrys are finally doing something really good (I’m not saying they’re bad people or bad parents, just that they can be a little… stuck in their ways) by deciding to help Bash’s family now and realizing they have missed their chance of getting to know Mary while she was there and giving it to them. I sure hope they allow their daughters, both of them, to have the life they chose, not the one that was predetermined for them by parents and tradition and some twisted idea of class distinction and propriety. They deserve to be given that freedom.

The girls’ ritual was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen in my life. How empowering, how beautifully sacred, how emotionally pure and true. And Ruby finally accepted herself as a woman… I relate to that on a deep level because it was hard for me to accept the change from girl to woman when I was that age, too – not so long ago, really. The thing is, there is no real difference between a girl and a woman. I think each one should decide for herself which one she is, and we shouldn’t forget that we have both inside us at all times.

Oh my, oh my! This was honestly one of the most beautiful episode endings I’ve seen on this series and there have been a lot. This baby foal is one of the cutest things ever, a true embodiment of the miracle of life. How fascinating!

So, let’s sum up. In this episode, we saw: the importance of honey; lots of awkward teenage courting; Gilbert going back to medicine; Rachel Lynde sticking her nose into other people’s business even more than usual; Jerry and Diana’s beautiful forbidden romance and character growth; misconceptions about… conception; Shirbert – the whole spectrum of it: awkwardness, tension, angst, heart eyes, lost of eye acting in general; different kinds of awkwardness involving different people, but mostly Shirbert; girl empowerment; and last but not least, the circle of life. I was going to say I want more episodes like this one, but, frankly, I don’t think that’s possible. This was BEAUTIFUL!

#anne with an e #awae #awae season 3 #anne shirley #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #diana barry #jerry baynard #ruby gillis #shirbert #anne x gilbert #diana x jerry #jerry x diana #reaction #review #jnkpoetry #jnk poetry #long post #jnk watches awae

129 notes · View notes

ambitionsource · 4 years

Photo

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “World Uncertain” [ 2.09 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

SPRING CLEANING – The juniors are forced to confront the ramifications of their actions while navigating shaky ground. Valerie comes to New York to spend the break with Isadora, although she may be carrying deeper intentions. Winter melting into spring allows for the chance to begin again.

64 Minutes (17K words) || CONTENT WARNING: mentions of suicide. Take care of yourselves and read with discretion.

[ ← Got A Lotta Livin’ To Do ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ Rarely Pure and Never Simple → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

The bustle and commute of a brand new work day in Manhattan echoes lightly from all around as a MALE OFFICER emerges from his cruiser. He strides a few feet onto the sidewalk, joining another FEMALE OFFICER standing on the curb.

She’s looking towards the side of the building on the corner, the male officer matching her stance. They don’t look stressed but rather confused -- and in a glimmer here and there, perhaps a bit impressed. Either way, it’s evident they aren’t sure what to make of their latest call.

Upon the brick wall of the establishment across from them, Maya’s emotionally spurred graffiti finally sees the light of day. It’s beautiful and jarring, bright and colorful and eye-catching, yet obviously attempting to convey something heavy. Something larger than life, overwhelming, difficult to capture in words as it is on the canvas of a building.

The word ENOUGH. Embellished and bold and impossible to miss.

The officers stand in front of it, small against its looming presence. As the school bell rings...

INT. AAA - CORY’S CLASSROOM - DAY

Students are transitioning for their next period, CORY MATTHEWS shouting last minute reminders at them as they shuffle out. He specifically mentions the impending spring holiday and urges students not to forget about their reading assignments.

Once the chaos has died down before the next wave of students files in, ISADORA DE LA CRUZ approaches Cory’s desk. He questions what he can do for her.

Isadora: You said that you were hoping someone could… Farkle.

Cory: … yes?

Isadora: [ clearing her throat ] His homework. You said you were wondering if someone could drop his assignments by his place during break. Since he’s coming back next week. Don’t want him falling behind and all that. So I figured I might as well.

Cory: You? You want to --

It’s obvious Isadora is the last person Cory was expecting to volunteer for such a job. But Isadora merely raises an eyebrow at him, so he quickly covers his surprise.

Cory: I just didn’t think you would be the one to -- but, sure. That would be wonderful, thank you, Isadora.

He shifts into gathering the proper materials, offhandedly relaying how much of their new book she should instruct him to read by the time they return. Isadora isn’t listening much, caught up in her own head. Perhaps Cory was a bit right to question her… why is she so intent on volunteering to help Farkle…

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

Who, speaking of, is making his grand return home. After about a month away at a rehabilitation facility, the doormen and wait staff warmly welcome him back as JENNIFER MINKUS leads the way back up to their penthouse accommodations. Handfuls of “welcome back, young Mister Minkus” are thrown in their direction, accompanied by relieved expressions or uncertain smiles as they get a good look at him.

And the reason is clear enough why. As they step back into the familiar entryway and Jennifer immediately starts fussing about getting him settled back in, FARKLE MINKUS takes his time. He drops his bag on the floor, taking a deep breath. And as we pan up from the floor to his face, one change is more prominent than any other.

His hair has been buzzed off. No more obsessive coiff. No more fastidious appearance. No more flyaway mess from pulling on it and running his hands through it too often to repair.

All that’s left is what’s underneath. Clean slate. Fresh start.

Tis the season of rebirth, after all.

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

LUCAS JAMES FRIAR opens his locker, explaining the consequences of his little joy ride last episode after he and Dylan went to court to be sentenced. Whereas Dylan got off on a warning and a minor blemish on his record since he is a minor and merely “an accessory,” Lucas was assigned 70 glorious hours of court-ordered community service to complete.

Still, he’s well aware it could’ve been far worse, especially since he’s already 18 and not as protected by juvenile limitations. It helped that the owner of the car didn’t press charges as nothing was damaged, but he also has the sense that Jack did a lot of negotiating on his behalf.

When she responds, it’s revealed that he is sharing these developments with RILEY MATTHEWS. She’s leaning against the row of lockers next to his, listening intently. She claims that he could easily knock out those service hours during spring break.

Riley: Seventy hours, ten days of break. That’s seven hours a day, which you can easily manage. [ a beat ] In fact, I’ll tag along with you.

Lucas: You do not need to waste your spring break on me.

Riley: It’s not waste, believe me. I could use the excuse to get out of the house, especially with my mom in and out helping move my brother’s things. It’s…

She doesn’t finish the sentence, shaking her head instead. Lucas doesn’t push her, getting the gist anyway. She directs her focus back to him.

Riley: And you know, it’s the least I could do. That night with the --

Lucas, pointedly: Don’t let that be your reason. You don’t owe me anything.

It’s evident Riley disagrees. They hold each other’s gaze. Riley decides not to argue it, but is still determined to join him regardless. She says as such, Lucas shrugging and focusing back on gathering his things.

Lucas: Well, I can’t stop you from blowing your break if that’s what you’re intent on doing.

Riley: Sure can’t. [ with a grin ] Besides, it’ll be fun. I like charity work.

Lucas, deadpan: Oh, I know.

Har har. It takes Riley a moment to get his implications, scowling when she realizes. He can’t help but smile, melting away Riley’s frown in spite of herself. Their smiles linger as Lucas shuts his locker, coinciding with…

INT. AAA - LIBRARY - DAY

CHARLIE GARDNER hitting the spacebar on one of the school computers, deeply concentrated as he scours through the webpages he has open. From an offhand glance, it seems to be a bunch of program websites, an application form or two sprinkled in. Although he’s working fast, he seems pretty intent.

And, well, a bit frantic. A glimmer of that frazzled nature is back in his eyes, making the web search seem far more important than a simple research project.

He jumps when someone calls his name, glancing up only for a moment before swiftly closing all the tabs. CLARISSA CRUZ and HALEY FISHER approach, Haley playfully nudging him and looking over his shoulder to see what he’s working on. He says he was just finishing up, not offering any further explanation.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

As they’re exiting the library, Clarissa asks Charlie if he wants to come to Chubbie’s. They’re doing a sort of kick off for spring break.

Haley: Drowning ourselves in high caloric content, that’s what we’re doing.

Clarissa: As is our right after the hell this semester has been so far.

Darn right, ladies! Charlie starts to respond, but his interest shifts to hesitation as he questions who else is going. They mention Yindra and Nigel, definitely Yogi, maybe Darbs? Although there are some unsure parties, Zay is not mentioned either way.

This seems to be what Charlie was looking for. With no mention of his boyfriend he happily agrees, telling them he’ll meet them there. Once they flutter off, however, his smile falters somewhat. He’s clearly not sure how he feels about anything at this point.

He starts down the hall alone, heading towards a week of freedom from it all.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

ZAY BABINEAUX, meanwhile, is meeting one-on-one with HARPER BURGESS. She’s got a stack of pamphlets and flyers to pass onto him, all opportunities for enrichment programs or auditions he can go out for. She also places a folded paper on top, explaining that its a list of contacts she has in the industry that he could consider reaching out to for guidance.

Harper: You know how it is -- it’s all about who you know.

Zay: Yeah. These are really great, thank you. [ a beat ] Are you sure it’s okay for you to do this? This does seem a little bit like what some might call favoritism.

Harper: Don’t see how it could be favoritism when you’re the only person who has even bothered to ask.

Fair point. Harper reminds Zay that he is more than capable of stepping into the spotlight and making real strides. Going out for these opportunities, as he’s expressed as his intent, is just the first step. He just needs to maintain his laser focus.

Zay: Trust me, I expect I will have far less distraction than usual this break.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Which is exactly what he reiterates to Riley, stuffing the pamphlets into his backpack as they make their way out for the break. He states that if he and Charlie aren’t going to be spending as much time together, then he might as well fill all that time with things that are actually important. Riley questions whether he and Charlie have even like… really discussed what happened -- because she is vague on the details and isn’t quite sure what is up between them -- but Zay waves her off.

Riley: So everything is okay.

Zay: Well… not exactly.

Riley: So you’re breaking up.

Zay: No. Not exactly.

Riley: And when was the last time you talked about this? [ nervously ] When was the last time you talked at all?

Zay, cutting her off: Riley, relax. You’ve already got one complicated relationship dominating your life, don’t let Charlie and me become the same.

Valid, but also a convenient excuse to avoid the topic. Riley relents, instead switching gears and suggesting that if Zay will have so much more time open on his social calendar this week, perhaps he would be able to squeeze in a visit to their absent classmate?

He doesn’t seem to enthused by the prospect, but it’s clear that this is a warpath Riley has been marching on for quite some time now. He reluctantly says he’ll consider it.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Isadora pokes her head in to chat with ERIC MATTHEWS, wishing him a restful break. He returns the sentiment, assuring her that he is heading out of the office shortly after them and will give himself a well-earned respite as well. She also questions how he’s doing this week emotionally, which seems to amuse him.

Eric: You realize this is the fourth time you’ve asked me that this week?

Isadora: [ unfazed, patiently waiting for a response ]

Eric, with a smile: … yes, I’m doing better. Thank you.

Placated for now, Isadora switches gears and asks if there’s anything Eric needs to give to Farkle this break. She’ll be dropping by to take him homework, so she can play messenger for him too if necessary. Eric remembers some flyers he meant to give for him in his preparation for returning to school. As he hands them over, he encourages Isadora to also take this holiday to take a breather. He thinks they all could use it.

Oh, and at the top of that list of people who really need to relax…

INT. AAA - PROP LOFT - DAY

ASHER GARCIA is meticulously arranging items on the shelves, doing his last touch-up organization of the loft before they leave for a week. He’s talking anxiously as he works, rambling about the state of things and how he’s supposed to get everything back in perfect shape. He’s speaking about the order of the prop loft, but that’s not really what he’s speaking about.

And that’s more than clear to DYLAN ORLANDO. He’s seated on the floor in front of the shelves, humoring Asher’s poorly veiled way of discussing how much of a mess everything is in socially removed terms and nodding along. He’s scribbling on a piece of notebook paper, delicately folding it and sliding it into the same cubby hole where Riley found his note in 206. Asher doesn’t notice a thing.

Dylan is smiling as he climbs back to his feet, tackling the discussion head on and explaining the situation from his perspective. He explains to Asher that Lucas was dead serious about their sentencing and took full responsibility for it. He even made a major point about taking all the blame off of Dylan, claiming that it was all him and his friend was only trying to make sure he didn’t get into anymore trouble.

That’s noble, yes, but Asher can’t believe Dylan is so calm about this. How can he not be at all upset? He got arrested.

Dylan: The cause of my impenetrable sense of peace is threefold. [ holding up three fingers ] One, I am a human being capable of making my own decisions. You said so yourself. I knew what I was doing when I agreed to go with Lucas, so it’s not like he’s some incorrigible demon corrupting me and my adorable veneer of innocence and naiveté.

Asher: You’ve been looking at the word of the day calendar, I see.

Dylan: Two. [ dropping a finger ] It really just doesn’t feel like that big a deal. I mean, yes, it’s a big deal that we got arrested and I would not like to repeat that ever again -- not to mention it would be a far bigger deal if I were any other race or gender, because of all the systemic imbalances in the justice system that make it way harder for small crimes to remain small and not totally derail your life when you’re not white and male, which now that I’m thinking about it is really kind of a huge problem that we’re not talking about enough and now I’m starting to get lightheaded -- is this what it feels like to be you all the time?

Asher: Dyl, lighthouse. And yes.

Dylan: Right. Larger sociocultural issues aside, I don’t think it’s worth getting hung up on. It happened, we dealt with it, and now we move on. Things are going to be different, yeah, but things change every day. I think it’s way more important to decide what happens next rather than get stuck on what already did. And, three --

Dylan is down to one finger, which he uses to tap at Asher’s cheek affectionately.

Dylan: All I know is that when all was said and done, Lucas stood up for me. I know he’s going through a lot right now and hasn’t been acting much like himself, but you and I both know that he always looks out for his friends. He never lets anyone else take the fall. That’s still true, and I still think that the person we’ve had as our best friend for three years, faults and all, is who he really is. I believe that, so I’m not going to drop him.

Asher absorbs this, obviously torn. He crosses his arms. Dylan continues, gently taking Asher’s shoulders and getting him to meet his eyes.

Dylan: However… if you decide that you don’t want to deal with it anymore, then that’s okay too. He messed up, and you have every right to decide that you’ve had enough and not forgive him. Or even if you do forgive him, you don’t have to let him back into your life. It’s all up to you, and it’s something that you have to come to on your own I think. Even though --

Asher, under his breath: I hate decisions.

Dylan, without missing a beat: You hate decisions. I know. But you’ll have plenty of time to think about it while you’re with your fam in Florida, and we know you’re an expert at thinking things to death. [ off Asher’s eye roll ] I’m just saying, whatever you choose to do will be the best one for you. I believe that, too. And I’ll support it no matter what… although, I’m pretty sure the best choice will be the right one. I’m not worried.

Asher: You never are. [ off Dylan’s beam ] So… what is the right choice?

As if he’ll give it up that easily. Dylan makes a face, shifting his gaze to the wall behind them as he pretends to be lost in thought. Then he locks eyes with him again, lightly tapping the side of his nose in a knowing gesture.

Dylan lightly taps Asher on the nose as well, grinning and spinning to depart without another word. Asher blinks, obviously still not thrilled with the things he has to contemplate but unable to hold back a smile in his boyfriend’s presence. He makes one last adjustment to the props before following him towards the stepladder.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Lucas arrives in the doorway, no longer sauntering around like he owns the place. Instead he lightly knocks, an awkward gesture considering how unnatural it is.

JACK HUNTER raises his gaze from his work, emotion flitting across his features at the sight of Lucas for a second before he resets to a pleasant, neutral state. Pleasant, but removed, so not really pleasant at all. Not at all like it’s supposed to be.

Jack: Something I can help you with, Mister Friar?

Lucas: [ thrown by the way he addressed him ] … um, yeah. I’m supposed to get the service paperwork from you.

Jack hums, nodding. He rises to his feet and digs through the papers on the cabinet behind his desk. Lucas remains uncertainly in the doorway, twisting his fingers subconsciously.

Jack finds the correct form, crossing the room to hand it to him. Lucas thanks him, Jack offering a polite nod as he heads back to his desk without further ado.

Lucas glances down at the paper, then at Jack settling into his desk again. It’s obvious he wants to say something, anything, but he doesn’t know what. It’s like he’s lost the right to say anything ever again. He retreats sheepishly, disappearing back into the main office.

Jack glances up from his desk, expression betraying his own disappointment. He shakes it off, focusing back on his work.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

Farkle is settling back into the apartment, a bit stiff in it after nearly a month away. He’s set up a home base of sorts in the living room, blankets folded on the opposite end of the couch and a formidable stack of books on the coffee table. He’s dressed more comfortably than he previously allowed, light wash jeans and a hand-me-down Princeton sweatshirt a far cry from blazer glory.

Jennifer is bustling around in the kitchen behind him, relaying all of the details for their upcoming break and his adjustment back home. She mentions the specifics of when Farkle should be taking his medications for stabilizing his body in the aftermath of the attempt, and who will be home when to keep him company (and watch over him).

Jennifer: Lila is on her way back from school now, and Uri will be here after school when I go to work. I’ll be staying mornings. Of course, Darla and Curtis will be checking in periodically throughout the day to see if you need anything --

Farkle: Hence my transition to the public display case of the living room, yes.

Jennifer: You know they appreciate that rather than having to intrude your privacy to enter your room.

Farkle makes a face. It’s a lot of attention, yes, but he also knows exactly why it’s necessary. Regardless of the state he’s in now, he certainly did his part to earn the surveillance.

Jennifer: And Ezekiel is coming back next weekend. He’s going to try and fly home when he can.

Farkle, sheepish: He doesn’t have to do that.

Jennifer: He wants to. He wouldn’t have it any other way, and we’re lucky that we can afford it.

Farkle: He doesn’t -- I mean, no one needs to go to all this trouble. It’s good, I mean, I’m good. I’ll be fine.

Jennifer gives him a smile, gently perching on the arm rest next to him. She takes his chin in her hand, only slightly belittling.

Jennifer: It’s cute that you think I’m going to take your word for it.

Farkle scowls, shrugging out of her grasp. Mostly because he knows she’s right. Jennifer laughs, leaning over to give him a kiss on the top of the head. When she pulls back, the expression on her face grows more serious.

Jennifer: I love you. [ a beat ] I’m very glad you’re home.

A loaded declaration. Farkle’s indignation fades, returning the sincerity despite how out of practice he is.

Farkle, quietly: Me too.

Jennifer smiles lovingly, stroking his cheek once more before jumping to her feet again. She shakes off the heaviness, brightly suggesting the ways that Farkle can enjoy the break home before he returns to school even while being under more careful watch. He’s got that hefty stack of books there, and perhaps there are more people he wants to see? He’s more than welcome to invite some friends over, provided he lets her know.

Farkle doesn’t seem convinced by this prospect.

Farkle, under his breath: Would need some friends first.

Oof. After a month away, Farkle is feeling the sting of his isolation more than ever.

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - DAY

Isadora is also set up on the couch, Blue’s living room acting as her makeshift bedroom while she’s in transition between foster homes. She’s far more settled into her space than Farkle, comfortably flipping through homework when there’s a bold knock on the door.

She doesn’t seem surprised -- and maybe even a bit excited -- as she rises to answer the door. On the other side is VALERIE DE LA CRUZ, looking glamorous as always as she cheerfully greets her daughter.

As she steps inside, BLUE NGUYEN emerges from the hall to the bedroom. She graciously greets him with her high-wattage Hollywood smile, thanking him profusely for allowing her into his house and taking such good care of Isadora. It’s obvious he has no idea how to react to her boisterous presence, accepting the praise with as much poise as he can muster.

Then Valerie is back on Isadora again, already questioning what they should do or how they should spend the week. A delicious dinner to start, perhaps? There’s this upscale place she’s been dying to try on the upper west side -- oh and Blue can come too, of course. Or perhaps a movie, if there’s one Isadora has been dying to see?

Valerie: Of course, you’ll need to clear your calendar for Friday. Very important evening plans.

[ She retrieves three tickets from her purse, handing them over with a mischievous grin and flourish. Isadora takes them, jaw dropping when she reads them. ]

Isadora: Hamilton? You got Hamilton tickets?

Valerie: It was hardly a tizzy. Just called in a favor with Lin -- you know how he was practically begging me to be in In the Heights. Well, he was more than happy to work these out for us. [ brightly ] There’s a third one in there too. I figured you might want to invite one of your friends -- Maya, I would guess? I’m sure she would love to go, even if just for the chance to boast a little bit with your classmates next week. All in good fun, of course.

Isadora, still dazed by the tickets in her hands, claims Maya won’t be able to come. Valerie asks why not, concerned, but Isadora simply states that she’s out of town for the break. Visiting Katy. This only confuses Valerie further, considering how much has happened since her last visit.

Valerie: Well, where on Earth is Katy?

INT. HART FAMILY HOME - NIGHT

KATY HART, dressed plainly and in the midst of helping cook dinner, jogs to answer the urgent knocking at the door. She pushes her hair out of her face, yanking open the door.

Katy: Just a second! Goodness, who the hell --

There on the other side of the door is MAYA HART, weary from a long day of traveling and clutching a suitcase in her hands. She brightens when she sees her mom, effortless smile blooming across her face.

Maya: Sorry. Just couldn’t wait much longer.

From the expression on her face, it’s clear that Katy was not expecting her. But it’s impossible to keep the happy grin off her face, even if mixed with incredulousness. Before she can get a word in edgewise, Maya barrels her with a hug.

Katy’s mother and father emerge from the kitchen, asking who it is and what all the fuss is about. VIVIAN “VIV” HART (60s) is demurely beautiful even with her age, although clearly the authoritative one of the pair of them. HENRY HART (60s), on the other hand, radiates that same bold and upbeat energy that his daughter and granddaughter are so proud of.

Both of them are gleeful to see Maya, rushing over to join in on the welcomes and hugs. She’s whisked into the house without another thought, not sparing a second towards how she got there or what she’s doing there in the first place…

INT. MINKUS HOME - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Alone” as performed by Young Frankenstein Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus (feat. AAA Juniors)

The dramatic orchestral burst sets the mood in an instant, a spotlight illuminating Farkle standing atop one of the grandiose staircases in the Minkus abode. From the moment he speaks, it’s clear we’re in for a truly theatrical return to form.

Farkle: Oh, Maya, darling Maya, I miss you so much. Life has been absolute -- [ offhand, to DAVE WILLIAMS standing just out of frame ] dry martini, Davis, and I mean dry -- HELL without you. I’m so, so, so --

And thus Farkle launches into the ridiculous soliloquy, sashaying around in a luxurious dress shirt ensemble and dancing with his AAA classmates (sans the other super seven), who have all taken the roles of his wait staff and are dressed in identical uniforms. Some of them really make this look work, like YINDRA AMINO, while others like NIGEL CHEY and NATE MARTINEZ seem unimpressed as to what they’re doing there or why they’re being cast as his butlers.

When he dances with each of them, Asher and Dylan maintain their characterization by looking pretty disturbed in having to interact with him. Still, they all play their parts well, creating an enjoyable and suave support for Farkle’s melodramatic lament. Dave tries his best to give him the perfect martini, but never quite hits the mark.

All that aside, the most important aspect of the number is how good it feels to see Farkle perform again. Not just perform, but be absolutely, wholly over-the-top and ridiculous with an endearing amount of fanfare. This is the Farkle we haven’t seen in quite some time, and it’s nice to see him again as he tilts his head back to the high ceilings and belts out the final notes.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

Even if only in a dream. Farkle is startled awake by peppy knocking at the door, having dozed off amidst his nest of blankets. On the TV, the film version of Young Frankenstein is playing. He struggles to his feet, attempting to shake off the fatigue and put himself back in presentable order. He reaches up to fix his hair on instinct before remembering he barely has any now, huffing and sliding towards the door.

Riley and Lucas are waiting on the other side, Riley offering a warm smile and cheerful greeting. Lucas does neither, keeping his arms crossed and settling for a glare instead. But hey, better than a derisive comment. That's an improvement!

Farkle steps back to allow them in, eyeing Lucas cautiously as they make their way inside. He questions what they’re doing there, which Riley scoffs at as if it’s a silly question. She explains that they wanted to come by and see how he was doing, moving further into the space and immediately going to adjust the blinds and let in more natural light.

Farkle tosses a look to Lucas. That so? Lucas doesn’t comment either way, turning away from him and getting a better look around.

Riley continues to quickly discuss all that’s happened in Farkle’s absence as he wanders over to join her. She mentions that someone will probably bring homework by at some point, and of course everyone is talking here and there about prom. They’ve started decorating for the senior send-off -- crazy how they’ll be seniors in just a couple months, isn’t it?

Riley: I’m glad that all of us will be able to jump into the final year together. [ a beat ] We all miss you.

Farkle, with a snort: Forgive me for not believing you. I’m suicidal, not delusional.

Well… remains to be seen. Riley brushes past the moment, asking how he’s doing and how his time at the hospital was. In a softer voice, she admits that there was a period where her mother considered sending her to some place similar for her depression when she was being bullied in ninth grade, so she’s always wondered. Behind her, Lucas continues to poke around the entryway and dining area with mild interest.

Farkle gives her the basic run down, expressing that while the treatment was fine and the workers were all quite nice, it’s hard to sell it as a desirable place to be when everyone present wants to die.

Farkle: You know, it’s hard to give it its due credit when most of the residents would rather be dead than be there. Literally, in case that point wasn’t clear. Not to mention the feeling of near constant surveillance, which I get, I put it upon myself, but it gets to the point where I was starting to wonder if I would ever be able to even think without the feeling that one of those well-intended nurses would hear my thoughts. It’s been nice to have the freedom of loneliness again, which isn’t something you’d ever think to say.

Riley: Well, that’s good. I guess?

Farkle: As good as it can be. But seriously, you think they’d save the overbearing surveillance for those who truly need it -- speaking of, hey Jackass --

Farkle has shifted his gaze to over Riley’s shoulder, glaring at Lucas. He jumps, spinning from where he’s examining the mantle by the dining table.

Farkle: Don’t you think it’s a bit morally decrepit to steal from the mentally ill?

Lucas scoffs, feigning innocence. He shrugs, crossing his arms in defense.

Lucas: Ha, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Farkle stares, raising one unimpressed eyebrow. Riley glances over her shoulder to look at him as well, giving him a knowing but more sympathetic grimace / smile.

After a moment of their dual scrutiny, Lucas relents. He scoffs again, pulling a handful of genuine silverware as well as a couple of other trinkets from his pockets and dropping them onto the dining table.

Farkle rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he settles back onto the couch. Riley keeps her eyes on Lucas as he sheepishly comes over to join them, but her disapproval would be more convincing if it wasn’t colored with unintentional fondness. She apologizes on his behalf, expressing that he’s had some trouble with those sort of compulsions lately.

Farkle: Oh, yeah, so I’ve heard. [ to Lucas ] Heard you stole a car.

Lucas, flatly: Maybe.

Riley: Not stole. Borrowed for temporary reckless purposes.

Farkle and Lucas continue to have a back and forth, sharing the same blunt and offhand tone.

Farkle: No keys? Break-in and hotwire?

Lucas: What do you think?

Farkle: BMW? Lexus?

Lucas: Maserati.

Farkle: No kidding. But doesn’t that have that security feature they were hyping to all hell -- ?

Lucas: Doesn’t matter if you disable it first.

Farkle: You can do that?

Lucas: If you know how.

Farkle: … touché. [ looking him over, cracking a smirk ] Well done.

Not the expected response, and a little refreshing. Lucas kind of smiles, but Riley is not thrilled with the exchange.

Riley: Okay, no, do not encourage him. We are not doing this --

Riley takes Lucas by the arms, spinning him and nudging him back towards the door. She tells Farkle that she’ll be sure to call him later, and she tried to talk to their other classmates about swinging by so she’s sure he’ll have company this week. Farkle doesn’t look convinced, but the sentiment is nice enough.

As she disappears into the hall, Farkle calls after her.

Farkle: Riley?

She pokes her head back around the door frame, giving him a look and raising her eyebrows. After a moment, Farkle smiles lightly.

Farkle, softly: Thank you.

This melts whatever chill he put between them from his brazenness with Lucas right quick. She returns the smile, blowing him a light kiss and pulling the door closed behind her.

Farkle releases a sigh, settling back into the couch and the solitude.

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - DAY

Isadora and Valerie are hanging out in the living room, Valerie pacing with restless energy. They’re debating what to do that afternoon, Isadora already showing a sign or two of feeling overwhelmed. She’s happy to have her mother there, but constant interaction can be a lot.

Their conversation is interrupted by a playful knock on the door, Isadora frowning. Valerie asks if she’s expecting anyone else, and Isadora calls back the same question to Blue as she goes to open the door.

On the other side is a delightful surprise, Dylan distracted by taking in the scenery around the apartment until Isadora opens the door fully. He grins wide when they lock eyes, holding a stack of tupperware in his arms.

Isadora: Dylan. What are -- what are you doing here?

Dylan: I wanted to swing by. I hope that’s okay.

Isadora: Sure. Um… what’s with the stuff?

Dylan: Oh, yeah, well --

Dylan adjusts them in his arms, letting out a laugh. Blue joins them in the living area, curious.

Dylan: I know you’re in transition right now and stuff, and with everything going on I figured y’all probably weren’t cooking for yourselves. Ramen is sustenance, but it’ll only last you so long. And I had plenty of time cause of break, so I just threw together a meal or two.

Or ten. It’s a complicated transferral from Dylan’s arms to Isadora’s to make sure nothing gets dropped, Blue jogging over to help.

Dylan: I had Asher write the stickies with the reheat instructions -- his handwriting is way better than mine, so.

Valerie flutters up to the doorway to get a better look, having waited long enough in the shadows. She brightens when she recognizes him, knowing him as one of Isadora’s classmates and eager to engage with another one of her friends. Dylan may not be her biggest fan, but he’s far more adept at feigning friendliness and navigating social situations than say, Lucas.

Valerie: Yes, yes, you were amongst the techies. Am I right? A darling crop of little talents there, I remember.

Dylan: Sure was. It’s great to see you again.

Valerie: I remember, you had on that bright yellow crewneck. Impossible not to make an impression wearing that! And you were always with -- where’s your other friend? The well-dressed, dainty one --

Isadora, apprehensive: Mom --

Dylan, lighting up once he understands: Oh, Asher! My boyfriend. [ off Valerie’s delighted expression ] Yes, I do quite love his little bird bones. He’s on vacation with his family for the break.

Isadora attempts to end the conversation before it can take any negative turns, thanking Dylan for the food and thinking of her.

Valerie: Oh, you have to go so soon?

Isadora: I’m sure he has better things to do.

Dylan, softer: Actually, um, I was kind of hoping we could catch up. [ meeting Isadora’s eyes ] We haven’t had much of a chance to talk, lately.

There’s a pause between them. Isadora seems like that’s something she might like to do too, but with Valerie hanging around them they won’t get to really say much of importance.

Blue steps in, asking Valerie if she might be able to help him get all this food organized and in the fridge. A swoop in rescue if there ever was one.

Blue, pointedly: Might take some time. My fridge could use some reorganizing.

Valerie: Oh, it would be my privilege, Blue. Don’t you worry, I have just the solution. My good friend Marie Kondo is really into this sort of thing, and she gave me an exclusive method I could use --

Valerie trails off as they disappear towards the kitchen, giving Dylan and Isadora space. Isadora watches her go, then turns back to Dylan who offers her a smile. She manages to return it.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

Farkle is in the midst of reading, interrupted by another knock at the door. He shouts for Uri, assuming it’s for him. When no one goes to answer and they knock again, Farkle lets out an annoyed growl and climbs to his feet, dropping his book on the couch.

Farkle: If you’re gonna have people over, the least you could do is not have your ailing brother open the damn --

He cuts himself off when he sees a familiar face on the other side. Clearly not there for Uri.

Farkle: … Zay? What are you doing here?

Zay Babineaux, indeed. He seems a bit uncomfortable as he stands in the fancy hallway, but he made it there regardless.

Zay: Riley is damn hard to disappoint. [ a beat ] You going to let me in?

Farkle steps back, allowing his rival diva into the apartment. Zay is struck by the opulence, jaw dropping open slightly as he takes a look around. He knew Farkle was loaded, but it’s a lot different to see it up close and personal.

Zay bothers to ask how Farkle is doing -- he claims as to be expected, but somewhat better. Dare he admit it, he honestly misses the high energy and constant action of AAA. There’s plenty he doesn’t miss, but the life that seems to pulsate through it every day is a big one.

Farkle: But I’m sure you know that better than I do. I’m sure you’ll probably want to be going soon. People to see, actually healthy relationships to foster.

Zay: To be honest, I don’t think I’m doing much better in that department either.

Farkle blinks, surprised. Zay isn’t looking at him, keeping his gaze trained out the huge wall of windows towards the city. There’s a solemnity to his expression that Farkle hasn’t ever really seen before. Whatever it is that’s weighing him down, it must be important.

The solution, it seems, is to go back to what the two of them do best. Farkle says so. Despite whatever is in flux otherwise, there is one thing that the two of them can control without fail -- their ability to put on a good performance.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “no tears left to cry” as performed by Ariana Grande || Performed by Farkle Minkus & Zay Babineaux

Farkle kicks off the diva number, but it’s not long before Zay joins in. It’s difficult for him to turn down Ariana, after all. It’s the first true Farkle & Zay duet, and their voices clash just enough to create an intriguing, compelling dynamic rather than irritating. Not to mention they both bring the energy, dancing around the spacious penthouse.

Given the space, it’s also the perfect opportunity to pay tribute to the original cinematography. Zay is allowed to temporarily slip into the melodramatic mindspace of Farkle Minkus, the two of them walking on the walls and balancing amongst a penthouse folding in on itself.

The sentiment of the tribute rings strong for both of them. The time for wallowing is over, and they’re both ready to jump back into the ring with stronger motivation than ever before, albeit for quite different reasons.

As the number concludes, Zay collapses into the armchair adjacent to the couch. He catches his breath and commends Farkle for a job well done, as it seems even near death can’t knock him out of performing shape. Farkle admits he has to work extra hard to keep up with him.

The conversation drifts to Zay’s plans for the rest of break, after Farkle flatly states that his spring break basically belongs to the confines of his living room. He explains all of the auditions he’s lined up for future opportunities, vaguely alluding to his change of priority. Farkle doesn’t question it, instead lighting up as he remembers something.

He jumps to his feet, returning from the kitchen a moment later with another pamphlet. He hands it to Zay, stating that he should add that program to his roster for the week. It’s some audition that only folks on a paying list can really get updates about, but he should go for it since Farkle certainly won’t be going up for anything any time soon.

Zay seems hesitant to accept charity from him, but also grateful. He takes it and looks through it, asking if Farkle thinks he should actually do it. Any of it. If it’s even going to be worth it.

Farkle: I don’t know, man. Who knows what’s worth it and what isn’t in this business. It’s all a shot in the dark.

Zay: Yeah, but you’ve always had more luck. You’ve been the golden child since we walked through the doors of Adams freshman year.

Farkle: Yep, totally. I was the million dollar baby -- and yet, I still wanted to kill myself. [ off Zay’s grimace ] I’m just saying, we all have to do everything we can, because talent sure as hell isn’t everything. If you think you need to stretch your network, then by all means, do it. Knowing you, it won’t take long for you to see results.

Zay contemplates this, such a supportive and well-meant notion coming from his formerly feral classmate. He nods a thanks.

Riley, pre-lap: So happy to help. You’re very welcome.

INT. SOUP KITCHEN - DAY

Riley smiles as a customer walks away with their food, working behind the counter at a soup kitchen. She’s got the apron and plastic gloves and all, hair pulled back out of her face in a tight bun. She reaches up to ding the small bell on the countertop in front of them, signaling they’re ready for a new patron.

Lucas is there next to her, also aproned and gloved. He looks less enthused, though he completes the work diligently. He states that if he has to do so much labor with no gain or end goal for himself, then he supposes the fact that it’s helping the less fortunate is something.

Lucas: I don’t even like working for myself. You can imagine my disdain.

Riley: [ rolling her eyes ] You know that whole act doesn’t work on me. The lazy, devil-may-care thing. I know it’s not true, I see right through it.

Lucas: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not see through.

Riley: You’re a window. An open window.

Lucas: Okay, sure.

Riley: Not even a screen in there. Just wide open, letting in the breeze and the sunshine.

Lucas: See, that’s a very sanguine perception of me. I don’t think you could get popular consensus on that.

Riley gives him a look, the two of them holding one another’s glares again before inevitably breaking into smiles. They get distracted from the moment anyway, duty calling and hungry people waiting to be served. Riley picks the conversation back up again, pointing out that Lucas does in fact gain something from all this work -- the privilege of not going to prison. He claims that would be a gross overreaction anyway.

Riley: Well, you did steal a car.

Lucas: Borrowed. For temporary reckless purposes. [ defensively ] And I was going to give it back.

Riley makes an incredulous face, but once again amusement is hindering its impact. And that makes a difference? Lucas brings it all back to the point, reiterating that while it feels nice to contribute something meaningful, it’s going to be hell getting through an entire week of something so monotonous.

Well, all you need to fix that is a little bit of initiative. Riley says as much, glancing around the shop where people are chowing down and calling to one of the elderly men seated over by the corner table. She requests that he bump the dated jukebox installed to get it going, breathe some life into this place.

Lucas, deadpan: Oh, yes. Music is the solution. How could I have forgotten?

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Lady Madonna” as performed by The Beatles || Performed by Riley Matthews (feat. Lucas James Friar)

The popular Beatles tune floats in through the jukebox, the patrons immediately appreciating its upbeat bounce. Riley shakes her shoulders to the beat, grooving in place until the vocals start so she can sing along.

Lucas: And now you’re singing. Okay. Sure.

Despite his commentary, it’s impossible for Lucas not to be endeared by her when she’s being so darn charming. She continues to sing and dance around him regardless of his sarcasm, taking it out into the shop and pulling customers into the fun. They clearly appreciate it, singing along with Riles when she hops up to sit on one of the tables.

She makes her way back over to Lucas at the conclusion of the first verse, taking his hand and pulling him out from behind the counter. As they make their way out of frame…

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

We jump into a quick cut montage of Riley and Lucas making their way through the week doing all sorts of different community service projects. They shelve books at the library, they pick up trash alongside the road. They help fix up housing accommodations that are in disrepair, flicking paint at each other; they’re surrounded by puppies at the animal shelter, where Lucas seems to actually be enjoying what they’re doing.

At the end of the middle transition, the first “see how they run,” Lucas and Riley sing it together while taking a moment of reprieve from running all around town doing good. Lucas seems exhausted, yet Riley’s grin brightens the mood as she spins him around and nudges him back off-screen into the next thing.

INT. SOUP KITCHEN - DAY

Back in the soup kitchen, Riley has pulled Lucas out onto the floor amidst the tables. She pulls him into a simple dance move, a shot focusing on both of their shoes doing the moves across the linoleum floor. Scuffed up black boots and cute doodled-on Keds, moving somewhat in sync and in the same direction.

INT. PUBLIC LIBRARY - DAY

Riley rides on the book cart as Lucas continues to push it through the aisles, picking up the verse again and handing books to Lucas to shelve as they go. The song takes us back through each of their projects one more time, in time with the beat…

INT. SOUP KITCHEN - DAY

Until we end up back behind the counter at the soup kitchen, back to the same old but in admittedly much better spirits than before.

Riley spins around Lucas and ends up back in her spot, exchanging a flirtatious beam with him before reaching up and hitting the bell to signal the end of the number. Ding!

EXT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - DAY

Isadora and Dylan are out on the tiny balcony that can hardly be called a balcony, cramped against the sliding door and sharing the tupperware bin of cookies. Isadora hasn’t indulged in her treat yet, too preoccupied with Dylan’s story as he catches her up on everything that happened, building up to the joy ride. When he finishes, she can only formulate one statement.

Isadora: Holy fucking shit.

Yeah, that about sums it up. Dylan nods in agreement, breaking a piece of his cookie and popping it into his mouth. She attempts to process it all, expressing the same thought that she can’t believe Dylan is being so cool about all of it. He shrugs, Isadora shaking her head and lamenting how shitty Lucas has been, that of course it would culminate in something like this.

Dylan gives the same shorthand defense that he gave to Asher, before pointing out that Isadora is probably speaking way more from her own anger towards Lucas that she’s chosen not to confront nor address for months. It’s a take that floors her to speechlessness, Dylan noticing her shock before shrugging again.

Dylan: Sorry. I’ve been to the clink, I’m a different man now.

At that, Isadora rolls her eyes. But she has to admit that he’s right -- she and Lucas haven’t spoken in months. And even when they were talking, they weren’t really talking. The last time she feels like they really understood another, were really listening, was almost a year ago. And she wouldn’t even know how to communicate with him now.

Dylan states she doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to, but to him it seems like she does. It’s impossible for either of them to move past the way they are right now because there’s no closure. If she gives it one more chance and actually talks about things, then at least she’ll get that.

Dylan: Even if it’s not good, even if it’s the last conversation you ever have, at least it’s something. You’ll be able to clear the air. A certain goodbye is better than endless uncertainty.

Although she seems reluctant, Isadora claims she’ll think about it. She asks how Asher is handling things and if Dylan has made his choices about the whole situation, to which Dylan affirms both. He knows that Asher will make the right choices, and as for himself, he’s never wavered on where he stands. He’s always been an advocate for forgiveness, so long as the action isn’t totally reprehensible. Especially when you love the person who is seeking it.

Isadora absorbs the sentiment, taking a good look at him. Although she doesn’t say it, the softness that shimmers in her features conveys how much she missed Dylan.

Isadora: Since when did you become all wise?

Dylan, earnest: The hour and 13 minutes that I was behind bars really changed me.

She can’t help but laugh, Dylan cracking his delivery to grin. Isadora takes a bite of the cookie, humming in appreciation and nodding.

Isadora, mouth full: This is fucking delicious.

Dylan: Why thank you. And you’re welcome.

EXT. HART FAMILY HOME - HILLSIDE - DAY

A fresh new day. The sun is rising over the hillside, a pleasant breeze blowing the long grass.

Maya stands amidst the fresh air, taking it all in. She’s almost unrecognizable, no longer in her diva best. Fresh-faced with no make-up, money-making hair pulled haphazardly out of her face in a ponytail. Dressed plainly like the rest of the Hart family.

She closes her eyes, inhaling a deep breath. Absorbing the sunshine, the oxygen, the chance to really breathe. You can take the girl out of the theatrical, but you can’t take the theatrical out of the girl.

Then she turns and heads back up the hill towards the house.

INT. HART FAMILY HOME - DAY

Maya steps back inside the house and immediately joins her grandparents at the kitchen table for brunch. Katy and Vivian are just finishing set up the food, all of them settling in to eat. The way Maya interacts with her family is quite different from the way she is at school, but there’s something refreshing about it. In some ways, it might be nice to see her bring some of this energy back to AAA with her.

Still, her grandparents are invested in her dreams and ambitions. They ask Maya how the fancy arts school is going, and she enthusiastically responds with all of the things she’s gotten to accomplish in the last couple years.

Katy attempts to dig for truth again, subtly shifting the conversation to give Maya an opening to speak truthfully. She loves AAA, of course, but Katy is well aware of how complicated everything is within its walls.

It’s obvious she wants to ask about Farkle, but Maya manages to evade the discussion effortlessly. She digs into her breakfast, changing the subject by asking what Vivian and Henry might want to do that afternoon. Katy accepts the shift, but it’s clear she’s not pleased with it.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

It’s Charlie’s turn to make an appearance at the Minkus home. Farkle pulls open the door that morning to find him standing there, a tupperware haul in his arms that could rival Dylan’s. Farkle is stunned to see him, obviously not expecting it.

Charlie greets him, and once Farkle awkwardly invites him in he launches into a swift explanation of each of the dishes his family put together for them. He wraps up by explaining the two large tupperwares on the bottom, where a couple of casseroles have been stored. He mentions one of them containing pork.

Farkle, flatly: We’re kosher.

Charlie, breathless: … oh. Oh. Well, um --

Farkle: It’s fine. Uri is a heathen, he’ll eat anything.

Farkle takes the tupperware from him, inviting Charlie further in as he goes to drop the stuff in the kitchen. He seems less energized today than earlier in the week, operating with a brusque, restless nature instead.

His offhand bluntness doesn’t help Charlie’s nerves. It’s clear he’s glad to be there out of good will, but he moves about the spacious apartment with obvious uncertainty. So Farkle’s sarcasm only adds another unsettling factor.

Farkle: By all means, make yourself comfortable. We can only hope we don’t get smote by a vengeful God --

Charlie: Huh?

Farkle pauses. There’s a subtext to his statement that his knowledge allows him -- Charlie being gay, Farkle having attempted suicide -- but he opts for the more blatant explanation.

Farkle: You know, the subtle differences in our chosen beliefs. Let’s hope your Catholic deity doesn’t kill you for hanging out with a Jew.

Charlie is so scatter-brained he doesn’t even have the energy to care about that take on his religion. He awkwardly brushes it off, settling onto the couch and asking Farkle how he’s doing. They were all worried about him. Farkle obviously doesn’t believe him either, pacing along the carpet as he gives Charlie a similar spiel.

When he turns the tables back on Charlie and asks how things are, he carries the same uncertainty that Zay did a couple of days ago. Farkle picks up on this, smart enough to piece together that something must be going on between the two of them. Sure makes both of their free time to come see him more logical.

It feels like Charlie could use an escape, and honestly in that moment Farkle is feeling the same. He says as much, jumping back into his former frenzied energy and claiming that Charlie should just forget it for now. He claims they should direct their focus into something better, a little practice maybe -- Charlie seems skeptical, wondering if Farkle should maybe like… be resting, but he’s already off and running.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I’m Still Standing” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus & Charlie Gardner

The rendition is bouncy, fun, and definitely checks off the boxes Farkle was trying to achieve. He and Charlie both pour all of their nervous energy into it, making for a good performance. It’s especially interesting to see the two of them perform together, as it’s essentially a first in AMBITION history.

For as neat as the number is, it comes to a rather abrupt conclusion. Ironically, Farkle grows weary fast and nearly collapses. Charlie immediately drops down next to him and helps pull him back to his feet, moving them back towards the couch while Farkle catches his breath.

Despite how fine he’s attempting to appear, everything Farkle has endured isn’t just going to go away. His choices have consequences, and Charlie is witnessing the exhaustion that comes with it. He braces his shoulder and questions whether he’s okay, or if there’s something he can get him. Rather than answering, Farkle throws a curveball.

Farkle: I’m sorry, Charlie.

Charlie, confused: What? For what?

Farkle, out of breath: You’re a good guy. A little bland, yeah, but you’re good. You really care about people -- even people like me, despite all the shits I gave about that -- and I used to think that was dumb. I figured it made me better than you, but it doesn’t. I’m not. And you’re just as good as the rest of us -- you always have been.

Charlie: … I mean, I didn’t --

Farkle: I just want you to… you’re talented, Charlie. Okay? You’re just as good as anyone else, definitely as much as me. [ locking eyes with him ] I’m really sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t.

It seems out of left field, yes. But the origin of it is clear, all of these things that Farkle has been ruminating on but didn’t have the chance to say -- might have never had, if his attempt had succeeded. Now he’s making up for it. Now he’s saying it.

Charlie absorbs the sentiment. Somehow, it’s just what he needed, and means more to him than he could’ve anticipated. He manages a smile, nodding and patting Farkle’s shoulder.

INT. HART FAMILY HOME - LIVING ROOM - DAY

Katy finally gets a moment alone with Maya, settling down on the couch with her as she flips through an actual hard copy newspaper. She makes a joke about how those things have real actual stories in them -- who knew? Katy humors it before using it to transition to what she wants to talk about: why Maya came all the way out here to avoid spring break in New York.

Maya, timidly: Isn’t wanting to see you enough?

Katy: Of course, and you know I’m happy you’re here. But I wasn’t born yesterday.

Maya hesitates, perhaps about to really open up… when Henry and Vivian enter to join them. Maya sees their entrance as an opportunity for avoidance, picking the most effective conversation starter she knows -- Katy’s unappreciated talent.

After bringing up how Katy hasn’t performed in a hot minute, it doesn’t take long for the grandparents to jump on the bandwagon despite Katy waving them off. Henry, the artistic of the two, settles in at the piano and claims they can throw something together. Provided it’s something they all know.

Maya: Culturally timeless… you know a thing or two about Hamilton, pops?

Henry: Sweet pea, everyone knows a thing or two about Hamilton.

Maybe so. Maya grins, wiggling her eyebrows at Katy as her mother takes a spot by the piano with Henry. She gives Maya a look, but softens as the soft piano kicks up.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Dear Theodosia” as performed by Hamilton Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Katy Hart & Maya Hart (feat. Henry Hart)

Henry’s delicate piano lends a definitive charm to this understated duet, Katy taking the Burr verse. She sings uncertainly at first, but as she looks at Maya and emotes the chorus (“We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you...”), her lovely voice gains more confidence.

Maya jumps in on the Hamilton verse, her performance a bit more cheeky considering she roped her mother into it. But when they get to the bridge (“My father wasn’t around, I promise I’ll be around for you…”), that devotion and love they have for one another is crystal clear all over again. Maya takes Katy’s hand resting on the piano, linking their fingers.

Henry smiles as he plays along, pride twinkling in his eyes. Vivian watches from the couch, not a creative herself but happy to see her family all together again.

Even in the midst of chaos, there can be moments of beauty.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Valerie and Isadora are out on the town, having just seen a movie together. Despite it being one of Isadora’s interests, Valerie is keeping up a bulk of the discussion. It’s almost incessant, the way she’s all over the place to keep up conversation. She doesn’t notice, but Isadora is definitely starting to feel a bit of drain.

However, some of this exhaustion melts away when they bump into Eric emerging from a store. He greets them both cheerfully, Isadora engaging in conversation with him seemingly much more seamlessly than with Valerie. Eric assures Isadora that he’s quite enjoying his break, and he promises to continue not doing any work while he’s on vacation.

Valerie definitely clocks their playful back and forth, watching them with fascination and a bit of something like envy or disappointment.

INT. MINKUS HOME - KITCHEN - NIGHT

LILA MINKUS is present, helping Farkle with his recovery medications and ensuring he takes them properly. Their back and forth is dry and sarcastic as usual, but Lila is operating with slightly more tact than usual. The banter is more sibling-like rather than colored with genuine disdain.

Once he’s finished and subject switches to dinner plans, Lila pauses. Following the same pattern as Farkle earlier, she finds herself blurting out an emotional truth before she can think it through the way she’s used to.

Lila: You know I -- you know I care about you, right?

Farkle: … sure. Yeah.

Lila: I don’t just mean like -- I know we haven’t always been… I care about you. I can’t even imagine… [ voice cracking ] You can’t ever pull shit like this again. Okay, germ? You aren’t leaving us like that.

Farkle seems surprised by the genuine vulnerability. It’s uncommon in their household, but despite the stammering and tripping over words, he understands what she means. He nods.

Farkle: Got it.

Lila nods, managing a tight smile before escaping from the vulnerability. Farkle watches her go, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face as he puts his water glass in the sink.

EXT. HART FAMILY HOME - FRONT PORCH - NIGHT

Maya has retreated to the fresh air again, sitting on the hammock chair on the porch. Katy steps out to join her, quietly settling down next to her. She questions whether or not Maya has had enough dancing around the issues and is ready to talk about them. They exchange a look, Katy quirking an eyebrow knowingly.

It’s hard to hide from Katy. Maya sighs dramatically, Katy breaking into a smile and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Maya, melodramatically: It sure is nice out here in the middle of nowhere. Fresh air, quiet, a strange sort of whimsy that comes from having absolutely nothing to offer. [ sighing ] Perhaps it would be better to retire out here to live out the rest of my days, shelving the glitz and glamour of show business for the humble accommodations of the Vermont hillside.

Katy: You’re a good actress, but you aren’t that good, baby girl.

Point taken. It’s not a convincing option, coming from Maya. Katy redirects the conversation to what Maya might be running from instead, because she knows it has nothing to do with the dream.

Finally, Maya does her best to talk it out. She admits that Farkle will be returning to school next week, and she just needed the chance to get away from it all and really think. She’s not really upset with him anymore -- in some ways she is, but mostly she’s just tired. She wants the theatrics between them to stop, but she doesn’t think she wants to remove him from her life for that to happen. She liked having him as a friend; she misses him, and she doesn’t think she can continue to front that she doesn’t anymore. It’s too exhausting, living as a projection rather than authentically herself.

That being said, she doesn’t want things to follow the same pattern and self-destruct all over again. Something has to give, something has to change if they’re going to be friends again. She isn’t sure what, but she figures it won’t even matter if Farkle himself isn’t open to discussing it or willing to change.

As Katy wisely says, it seems like the next logical thing to do is to bring Farkle back into the conversation. Maybe he isn’t willing to change... or maybe he’s been thinking the exact same things. There’s only one way to find out, even if it’s daunting.

Maya sighs, accepting this as truth. She cuddles closer to her mom, reveling in how nice it feels to have her there with her again.

Maya: I love you, mom.

Katy: I love you, too. Every hour of every day.

She places a kiss on the top of her head, settling into the quiet of the Vermont evening.

EXT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

As they arrive to drop Isadora off, Valerie is already overcompensating for the earlier strain in trying to decide what they’ll do tomorrow. And has Isadora figured out who will be accompanying them on Friday? She doesn’t want to rush her, or anything, but it is coming around the bend.

Socially, Isadora has reached her limit. She sort of snaps at Valerie, stating no, she hasn’t figured it out yet. Things go quiet between them, Isadora sighing and facing towards the door. She opts not to just run from the negativity and tries to be honest with Valerie, expressing that she just needs some space. She’s glad she’s there, she is, but it’s… too much all at once. Maybe some time to herself would help.

Valerie does her best to be okay with it, but it’s evident she’s hurt. She relents, bidding Isadora goodnight and requesting that she reach out when she’s feeling more… interested in being with her again. But no rush.

As Valerie walks off, Isadora watches after her. She’s torn, not satisfied with how that conversation went but also too exhausted to deal with it further. She disappears into the apartment.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Run And Tell That” as performed by Hairspray Original Movie Cast || Performed by Zay Babineaux

The groovy intro floats over the city as a new day starts, zeroing on Zay emerging from the subway as he launches into the first verse. As he runs and dances his way around Manhattan, bystanders seem to join in on the performance and supplement the epic feeling of his progression through the city.

He darts in and out of buildings, sliding onto the stages and giving a flurry of different auditions. His outfit and style shift as he goes, representing the passage of time throughout the week as well as how he presents himself to each opportunity. Regardless, one trait remains the same -- his unmistakable talent.

INT. AUDITORIUM - DAY

When it gets to the Little Inez bridge, it’s not a different performer but rather stands in as Zay’s “audition” piece. And suffice to say, it’s impressive, showing off his energy and overlooked vocal power. About time we saw this spirit again!

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Audition portion completed, Zay bursts back out onto the streets of Manhattan. More and more of the crowd has gotten into the groove, creating a truly vibrant and energetic portrait of the city.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DANCE LOT - DAY

We make a return to a friendly setting to conclude the number, Zay rounding out the performance with his crew of talented and eclectic youth at the dance lot. No Charlie accompanying him this time around, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference. He’s alight with the passion he’s been putting on display all week.

Maybe this is what everything is all about. It’s like he’s gotten so distracted with everything else, he forgot why performing makes him so happy in the first place.

No ignoring it now, that’s for sure. The fellow dancers crowd around and give him welcoming pats on the back and high-fives as he slays the final run. Woo!

EXT. CENTRAL PARK - DAY

Meanwhile, Riley and Lucas are taking a well-needed reprieve from all their court-ordered do-gooding. They’re basically having a lowkey picnic, snacking on a late lunch after another long day of volunteering. Conversation seems to be easy between them, Lucas sprawled on his back and staring at the sky while Riley sits cross-legged an arm’s reach away.

After their chuckles die down from whatever they were talking about previously, Riley states that Lucas was really good at the animal shelter. He definitely has a knack for working with animals, at least far more so than anything else they’ve spent the last week doing.

Lucas: I don’t think it’s hard to show more enthusiasm towards animals than say, trash on the side of the interstate.

Riley: [ nudging him ] I’m serious. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve seen you be that interested in something… like, ever.

Lucas: It’s not my fault most things aren’t interesting. If they want my attention, then they should be better.

Riley shakes her head, biting back a laugh. She tilts her head at him.

Riley: I’m just saying. Maybe this could become something more permanent. You know, when it’s not a punishment for criminal activity. [ a beat, then playful ] Maybe you could get into the habit of actually doing good.

Lucas, thoughtfully: … maybe with you I could.

Oh. That’s not very playful or offhand at all. Lucas realizes his slip up a second too late, glancing nervously at Riley before directing his gaze anywhere but at her. Given that he’s facing the sky, it’s not hard to find other places to look.

But Riley doesn’t miss the moment. She absorbs it, smiling lightly to herself and pressing her lips together to hide it.

After a moment of quiet, Riley starts to broach the topic of how things have been the last few months. She figures it’ll be a touchy subject, but surprisingly, Lucas claims he has something he wants to say about that. She watches him curiously as he pushes himself upright, propping his elbows on his knees and taking a deep breath.

Then he meets her eyes, trying his best to be sincere.

Lucas: I’m sorry. About the way I’ve been acting.

Riley: I get it. There’s been a lot going on.

Lucas: Yeah. But that’s not an excuse. [ a beat ] I think… it just got too easy to deflect. Do you know what I mean? Like things were never good, but then with each thing that got stacked on top of each other in the last month it just felt like another good reason to fall apart. To let another screw go loose, and push away another person who was trying to fix it, until I was standing in the precinct parking lot with a whole bunch of… spare parts, junk, and no clue how they fit together anymore. And I’d done a good job of telling everybody to fuck off, so there’s no one left to help me put things back together. Now I’ve just got to… do it. It just sucks that it took hitting every rock on the way to the bottom for me to realize it.

Riley frowns, sympathetic. But she doesn’t interrupt, letting him work through the feelings on his own.

Lucas: I got there, and now I’ve got to try and fix it, but no amount of reason is a good enough excuse for the way I’ve been treating people. Especially you. [ looking at her ] So I’m genuinely sorry.

An apology was more than Riley was ever expecting, least of all one that feels so honest. There’s a moment of quiet, then she accepts it. They exchange tentative smiles.

Riley questions if he’s planning the same approach for his other friends, to which Lucas sort of laughs and weakly states he doesn’t know who would even count as a friend anymore. She says Asher and Dylan without hesitation, and it’s clear from the way he grows even more timid that they’re at the forefront of his mind.

With a little more nudging, Lucas admits that he doesn’t see what the point is. He was rude to Riley, but he was reprehensible with them. They were there for him and he took advantage of it at every turn, even if he didn’t consciously mean to. After the way they left things, with the things he said to Asher and everything with Dylan and the joy ride…

Lucas, defeated: He’s done. And he should be. [ shaking his head ] He’s never going to forgive me.

Riley understands the hesitation, but she delicately offers a counterpoint.

Riley: Not to sound like the dreamy optimist, but I really wouldn’t be so sure about that.

Lucas: You weren’t there, okay? You don’t know how -- I really fucked up.

Riley: No offense, but I don’t have to have been there to believe that. But I don’t think you’re giving Asher enough credit. I know I don’t know him the way you do, but he doesn’t seem like a particularly vengeful guy. Especially not with someone he loves so much. [ a beat ] You’d be surprised how hard it is to give up on someone you love.

Lucas seems bashful just at the insinuation, still far from comfortable with such open discussions of affection. But perhaps Riley has a point -- she speaks confidently enough, like she knows. He’s certainly listening.

Riley: I’m not giving any guarantees or anything. I just think that, yeah, if you never apologize because you think it’s not even worth it, then Asher definitely will never forgive you. If you never give things the chance to work out, then they won’t.

Something to think about. Lucas contemplates it, seriously considering her point.

INT. HART FAMILY HOME - DAY

Maya finds Vivian in the kitchen, prepping early for dinner. She asks if she wants any help, and Vivian cracks a joke about Maya volunteering to do any sort of housework. Is she sure she’s the same granddaughter she’s always known? Maya rolls her eyes, nudging her playfully before requesting instructions on where she can help.

While they work, Maya takes the opportunity to ask Vivian how she feels about Katy and her current straits. Considering Maya is, perhaps foolishly, trying to do the same thing, does Vivian regret letting Katy try to pursue her dreams rather than doing something more practical?

Vivian prefaces by telling Maya she knows she would never beat around the bush with her. Harts are hearty people, and damn honest at that.

Maya: Believe me, I know. Got a bit of a reputation for it myself.

That aside, Vivian admits that the whole notion of following the artistic dream does feel a bit reckless to her. She’s not a creative person either, so that doesn’t help the mystery of it in her eyes. But that being said… what’s life if not a little bit reckless?

Vivian: I may not get all of the hubbub around the dream, or the passion behind it. But what is the point of life other than to live it? Taking the guaranteed safe route when you believe you could do something more feels a little bit like cheating yourself… especially for someone as hearty as a Hart.

This placates Maya. It’s nice to remember that there are people in her corner all the time, even when they’re not in plain sight right there in front of her. She gives her grandmother a quick kiss on the cheek, then jumps back into dinner prep with the same intensity as a new performance.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

As the week has waned on, Farkle’s energy has come and gone in waves, and presently it’s at a low point. He’s crashed on the couch, eyes glazed over as he watches television. He’s startled by a knock on the door, but he doesn’t make a point of rushing up to get it. When they knock again, Lila emerges from the hall rather than waiting for Farkle to get up and do something about it.

She returns a couple moments later, poking her head in from the entryway.

Lila: Hey. Someone’s here for you.

Farkle, monotonous: Couldn’t be. I don’t have friends.

Lila: You’ve had like five people come by this week. Who were they?

Farkle: Okay. Those were my only friends.

Lila: Would you stop wallowing and just get up? I’m going to let her in either way.

Farkle: You’re the worst sister ever.

Lila: Socialization is good for you.

Isadora, from off-screen: This is ridiculous --

Farkle frowns as he places the familiar voice, turning to look over his shoulder just as Isadora marches into the room. Farkle’s eyes widen and he scrambles to his feet, obviously not expecting to see her at all.

Farkle: Isadora -- Smackle -- what [ adjusting his askew sweatshirt ] what are you doing here?

Isadora, unimpressed: What’s the matter? Did they take away your ability to walk and answer the door for yourself in treatment?

Farkle is speechless, embarrassed. This certainly isn’t the state you want one of your key intellectual rivals to see you in… well, ever. Lila looks back and forth between them, somewhat amused.

Lila: I’ll leave you to it, then. Nice to meet you, Isadora.

Isadora nods to her as Lila disappears back into the hall, snickering to herself.

Farkle and Isadora stand at an impasse for a moment, not sure what to say to one another. Farkle clears his throat, scratching at his neck.

Farkle: You didn’t have to come by. Just because you feel bad.

Isadora: That’s not -- [ scoffing ] that’s not why I came.

Farkle: No?

Isadora: No. I’m here to save your education.

Isadora marches over to him, shoving the homework from Cory into his arms. He manages to catch it, Isadora huffing and pushing past him further into the room. He sorts through the items, realizing that her intentions for visiting were at least partially utilitarian and genuine. He can appreciate that.

Farkle: Oh. Well. Thanks.

Isadora: Uh huh.

He puts down the homework amidst his spread of books on the coffee table, Isadora eyeing them and inching closer to get a better look. She curiously questions how his recovery is going, demonstrating her own knowledge of mental health exposure when she asks if they’re planning to put him on any permanent medication treatment plans.

Farkle flops back onto the couch, shrugging.

Farkle: They’re throwing all of it around. Lexapro. Zoloft. Prozac or Celexa. [ snorting ] You know what I realized? “Farkle” sounds like a drug. I’m a fucking antidepressant.

The problem, he concludes, is that they really don’t know what’s up him, so they’re hesitant to formulate a treatment plan. And makes sense, because he sure as hell doesn’t know what’s up with him either. Guess he’s destined to find out, sooner or later.

Isadora awkwardly wishes him luck with that, Farkle making an unimpressed face. Quiet settles between them -- she’s done her duty, and there’s nothing more to say -- but for some reason she doesn’t rush to leave.

Farkle hardly notices, sort of zoning out. Isadora recognizes the vibe, commenting that it’s okay. Farkle blinks, snapping out of it.

Farkle: Huh?

Isadora: That they’re still there. The… those kind of thoughts. They’re not just going to disappear because you went to one rehab treatment.

Farkle: Auspicious. Thank you.

Isadora: I’m only saying, you don’t have to be back in tip-top tyrant shape right away. You can… take a moment. Remember how to breathe again before you take off running.

Oddly apt to what he’s feeling, even if he’d never vocalize it. He doesn’t seem convinced, but Isadora isn’t going to just say her piece and go. If she’s going to make her point, then she wants to make sure Farkle really hears it.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Here Comes A Thought” as performed by Estelle & AJ Michalka|| Performed by Isadora De La Cruz & Farkle Minkus

With the opening synth, Isadora hesitantly takes a seat closer to Farkle. Her vocals, although strong as usual, also have a softer edge than we’re used to when she performs -- it’s an intimate conversation, still, even in song form.

The whole performance is very lowkey, the two of them simply sitting next to each other, watching each other carefully. Farkle joins in about halfway through, allowing himself to be more open about his mental state for the first time in the episode.

As the song comes to an end, there’s an unusually vulnerable moment shared between the two of them. They hold eye contact, recreating some of that feeling they felt in Eric’s office during group week although no closer to really understanding what it is.

Isadora clears her throat, searching for a change in subject. She nods towards the English homework.

Isadora: Sorry about the book, by the way. It’s a little banged up, but it’s the best I could do.

Farkle reaches for it, taking it in his hands. Pride & Prejudice. A well-worn copy of it, notes and annotations in the margins visible as he flips through it.

Farkle: Cory didn’t give you a school copy?

Isadora: He did… but I’m pretty sure my mom lost it. [ off Farkle’s snort ] She was all excited to enjoy some “truly classic literature” while endeavoring in her “cultured” stay with me, and I haven’t seen it since. So you get my personal copy instead.

Farkle: Oh, big honor.

Isadora: It is. There’s some genius analysis going on in those margins. Not many are so lucky as to get to experience it for themselves.

Farkle chuckles, taking a better look at some of the annotations. Then he manages a smile, holding up the book indicatively.

Farkle: I’m sure your additions will make for an interesting read, if nothing else.

Isadora tentatively returns the smile, edging her way towards the door to go. She hesitates, spinning back around and asking Farkle if he’s busy Friday evening.

Farkle: … I’m a freshly released mental patient who is basically on mother-ordered house arrest. So naturally, I’m booked solid.

Isadora: You’re not aware that I suck at sensing sarcasm, but I’m going to assume that was it. And if you’re not busy… what are your feelings on Hamilton?

INT. SVORSKI’S CAFE - DAY

Friday afternoon, end of break impending. Lucas is sitting alone at a table in the back corner, tapping his fingers nervously on the surface. There’s an iced drink in front of him, but he hasn’t touched it. Every time the cafe door bell jingles he jumps, looking towards the entrance and expecting to see someone important.

It’s always someone else. Lucas deflates after about the third repetition of this, slouching in his seat and dropping his gaze down to the drink in front of him.

The bell jingles again.

This time, it’s Asher pushing his way through the door. Lucas straightens up, swallowing and waiting for Asher to finish scanning the room and find him. He waves at him when they lock eyes, but it sort of looks like an anxious twitch.

Still, he gets the message. After a moment of hesitation, Asher cautiously makes his way through the cafe towards him. He keeps his hands in his coat pockets, on the defensive as he comes to stand at the table.

Lucas greets him, awkwardly standing as well. There’s an uncomfortable moment where they both look at one another, not sure what to do next, before Asher settles in the chair opposite him. Lucas takes that as his cue, dropping back down into his seat as well.

Lucas: I got you a drink. [ sliding the drink across the table ] Peach lemonade. ‘Cause I know you like it. I didn’t add like, sugars or anything, because I wasn’t… well, I figured you would know how you’d want that. If any.

Asher glances down at the drink. He lightly touches the lid, running his fingers along it. Not saying anything.

Lucas stares at him, obviously wishing he would. At a loss for how to proceed tactfully, everything he wants to say tumbles out of him unceremoniously.

Lucas: You were right to get upset. Okay? Believe me, I know that. And I promise, I’m going to pay you back for the bail money. And the hospital bill from my wrist, and… and like, all of it. I’m going to make the money and then I’m going to pay it back.

[ Asher lifts his eyes, watching him uncertainly. Lucas trips over what to say next. ]

Lucas: And I’m done with the stupid stunts. No more pulling Dylan into anything either. And I don’t know if I did any damage to your car -- I don’t think I did -- but like, tell me if I did and I’ll fix it. I’m going to -- I’ll fix it. Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.

Still nothing. Asher is clearly listening, contemplative, but to Lucas it just feels like a wall. He grows more desperate, voice cracking and speech terse as he chokes on the emotion.

Lucas: You’re my best friend. [ a beat ] You’re my best friend, and I’m sorry that I fucked that up. And I know that… I know I can survive without you. Duh. I could do it, if I had to. But… I don’t want to. [ shaking his head ] I don’t want to think about my life without you in it.

The air is heavy with the truth of his words. Asher quietly absorbs them, dipping his head down to look at the drink. A second of silence. Then another. Then another.

Lucas: Okay, I know I just finished saying that you don’t owe me anything and I’m the one groveling but… could you please say something? Maybe?

A few more moments of silence that feel like an eternity. Then, Asher lifts his gaze to meet his. When his speaks, his voice is soft.

Asher, deadpan: You could start by getting me a straw.

Not the most forthright of acceptances, but not a cold dismissal by any means. And humorous, in Asher’s own special way. Lucas laughs, more out of relief that he’s speaking at all.

Asher: … I wasn’t kidding.

Lucas: Oh. Oh! Hold on --

Lucas gets up, grabbing a straw and sliding back into his seat. He waits as Asher unwraps the straw and sticks it into the lid, taking his time.

Before he takes a sip, he meets his eyes again. This time, some of the warm familiarity they share has reappeared.

Asher, quietly: Thanks, meatball.

The nickname is more of a signal than any verbal acceptance of his apology. Lucas cracks another relieved smile, Asher mirroring it lightly as he takes a long sip of the lemonade.

Perhaps all is not broken beyond repair.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - NIGHT

Valerie and Isadora are walking Farkle back to his building post-Hamilton, raving about the show and keeping up a relatively consistent chatter. Isadora is doing more observing of her mother and former rival interacting than contributing, but it isn’t an issue this time. And she seems to be enjoying herself nevertheless.

As they stop outside his building, Farkle states that they didn’t have to walk him all this way. Isadora claims actually, they did, as it was part of the requirements for his mother to let him come along with them.

Farkle: Yeah… thanks for inviting me. It was nice to get out of the apartment -- think I was going a little stir crazy.

Valerie: It was our pleasure, truly.

Isadora: Surprisingly.

[ Farkle narrows his eyes at Isadora. She matches the expression, causing him to crack and offer the ghost of a smirk. ]

Valerie: And you’ll be going back to Triple A after this weekend, no? Suppose this could be considered a trial run of some sort. A dress rehearsal!

Farkle: Yes, well, that will be a spectacle all its own, I’m sure. [ to Valerie ] Thank you, again. [ to Isadora, with a nod ] Isadora.

Isadora returns the nod, Farkle heading into the building through the revolving door. Valerie makes an expression at Isadora, raising her eyebrows.

Isadora, genuinely lost: What?

Valerie raises her hands in surrender, although the amusement doesn’t leave her features. Isadora obviously wants to question her, but the more they walk towards the subway the more emboldened Valerie becomes. Before they descend down into the station, she pulls Isadora aside and states there’s something she needs to tell her.

The reason that she came to stay with Isadora for the break wasn’t just because of everything going on here -- though that is part of it, and she’s happy to have been there for Isadora even if she can be a bit much.

Isadora: Well, I wouldn’t say --

Valerie: Oh, don’t try to sugarcoat it. I’m a big celebrity, I can take my share of critique. And I know we aren’t perfectly matched. I can be a lot, certainly more than you’re used to. But we’re improving, aren’t we? Every day.

Isadora can agree with that much. Valerie goes on to explain that she’s been doing a lot of thinking, much contemplation, and part of the reason she came to stay the week was to test the waters of their dynamic in long terms. Because... she hopes to try and get back custody of Isadora so that she never has to deal with this foster care business again. That, and of course, they can be a proper mother and daughter.

Isadora is shocked. At her stunned expression, Valerie quickly begins to articulate all the thought she has put into it. Naturally, she would only pursue it if it’s something Isadora would want… and does she think, maybe, it’s something she would want?

The moments that Isadora hesitates feel unbearable. Then, surprising even herself, she speaks.

Isadora: Yeah. [ a beat ] Yeah. It is. I would.

Valerie takes a moment to absorb it, realizing Isadora has said yes.

Valerie: Yes. Yes!

Valerie takes her hands excitedly, then remembers her discomfort with touch and pulls back. But Isadora mirrors her excitement, choosing to link their hands lightly again. Valerie brightens, launching into all of the wonderful things this could hold for them. Sure, it will require changes, and further understanding of one another as they go, but they have time for that. They have all the time in the world to figure it out.

Regardless, they will have one another. Decisively, like never before.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Stone” as performed by Alessia Cara || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz & Valerie De La Cruz

Valerie launches into the song first, Isadora easing her way into the harmony. Their voices combine in a delicately powerful duet, accented beautifully with the scenery of Manhattan glittering in the night.

They make their way through the streets, somewhat dancing around one another but actually in step for once. Both of them are smiling as well, the true cause of how bright the evening feels.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Zay is grooving in his room to his own music, laying out and taking stock of all the auditions he went out for over break. He seems proud of himself, as he should be.

DONNA BABINEAUX knocks on the door, Zay stretching to turn down the music. She skims through the papers on his desk, asking what he’s been up to all holiday running in and out. He eagerly tells her all about the stuff he went out for, Donna brightening the more he discusses it. Once he concludes she exchanges a double high-five with him before pulling him into a hug, planting a kiss on top of his head until he manages to shrug away.

Still, Donna is far from oblivious. She innocently questions what brought on this sudden surge of ambition. Zay falters, just for a moment, then maintains his positive demeanor as he shrugs. He claims senior year is right around the corner. May as well start doing all he can to leave an impression.

For now, Donna leaves it be. She reiterates how proud she is of him one more time before telling him goodnight. Alone again, Zay glances at his desk spread again and another smile drifts onto his face. Settling on his bed, he reclines comfortably and shifts to looking at his phone, on instinct going to send a message to Charlie.

Once the message thread is open, however, he freezes. The searing reminder of the state their relationship is in hits him all at once, temporarily forgotten in the hustle of utilizing his spring break. So in some ways, his initial reason for setting out to break ground succeeded -- only it hurts far more to return to reality than he anticipated.

His fingers hesitate over the keyboard, totally at a loss.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

As it turns out, Charlie is feeling the exact same way. He’s at his laptop, message thread open with Zay and trying to figure out what to say. Obviously desperate to say something, but not having any idea how he could.

The indecision will remain for a bit longer. He avoids it again, exiting out of the messages and returning back to his browser. A few of the tabs he had open at school are on screen again, giving us a better look at what he’s actually investigating.

Other arts schools. Transfer applications. The one on screen is for Haverford Prep, but it’s just one of many. It would require a whole other round of auditions all over again, but it’s clear for some reason, he’s putting the option on the table.

Charlie may not fix his problems at all.

He might run instead.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

Farkle opens the door for one final visitor, expression going blank when he locks eyes with Maya. She returns his stare, more prideful in her stature, but clearly there by choice.

Farkle, stunned: Maya.

Maya: … that’s my name, yes. So flattered you remember. [ a beat ] Are you going to invite me in?

Farkle: Oh, uh… yeah. Yes.

Farkle steps back, but Maya hardly waits for him to move. She breezes past him, Farkle somewhat dazed and low energy and nowhere able to battle with her this afternoon.

She enters the living room with more familiarity than any of the other classmates, eyeing the cocoon that Farkle has built for himself on the couch. The reality of his situation dismantles her bold facade, and she only minimally manages to repair it.

Farkle asks Maya how her break was, and she claims refreshing. She fires back the same question to him, and he shrugs indicatively towards the dent on the couch.

Farkle: I’m sure you can imagine.

She can. Silence settles between them, uncertain. Farkle breaks it first, launching into an apology with the same uneasy tempo as when he spoke to Charlie.

Farkle: You have every right to be upset with me. For everything I did. You should hate me, and I would understand it. I should never have let my jealousy dominate my actions, and furthermore, expose a secret you meant to keep under wraps. That you shared with me in confidence --

Maya, resigned: I don’t care about any of that, Farkle.

Farkle: … you… you don’t. You don’t care. No?

Maya hesitates, inhaling a breath. She searches for what she wants to say, crossing her arms.

Maya: The attempt to keep my... financial circumstances a secret was kind of a fool’s bet anyway. It had to come out eventually. And the video was far more embarrassing for you than me -- I think we can agree you more than paid for that.

Farkle doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he doesn’t interrupt. He’s more consumed by how great it is to talk to her again, how it feels to be back on the same page in some shape or form. No longer outcasted from her life, at least for a moment.

Maya: It was just… [ tentative ] I don’t have time to waste. I don’t have time to waste on people who aren’t worth the effort. And I thought -- I’ve had my experience with people who don’t keep their promises. I’ve had enough of it, forever, and so when you couldn’t be there for me and then twisted everything around, even when you said… even when we agreed to drop the antics…

Farkle, softly: I know.

Maya: So I thought the solution was the same. The last time someone hurt me this way, they left, and that solved the problem. I never had to deal with them again because they were out of my life. [ a beat ] Only I’m realizing that didn’t really solve anything. They’re gone, but the hurt is still there. Nothing about that situation is ever going to change, and it’s always going to hurt. Even with time.

Farkle: … but…

Maya: But… maybe, here, things could still change. If we make the right choices, better choices, then no one has to go. [ unusually fragile ] I don’t want you to go.

The additional meaning behind the sentiment goes without saying. Farkle swallows, realizing that the ball in his court now. Maya’s opening the door for him again, conditions attached, and he has to demonstrate that he’s capable of the privilege. That he’s capable of change.

So he tries to communicate it, in the best form of communication they know.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Thinking Of Him / I Miss the Music Reprise” as performed by Curtains Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus & Maya Hart

A direct parallel to Farkle’s former performance in 204, he kicks off the soft duet with sincerity.

Farkle: What was I thinking when I let you slip away? [ a beat ] Oh, yeah…

He admits all the ways in which he was selfish or misguided in the past year, culminating in that emotional and vulnerable declaration (“But why pretend? I missed the music, I missed my friend”). As Maya joins in, she eases her way back towards him. Both of them end up on the couch, singing in harmony for the first time in what feels like ages.

Maya wraps her arms around his, gently resting her head against his shoulder. A smile slowly blooms across his face, and he allows himself to tilt his head back against hers.

I choose the music I make with you, I love the music I make with you.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Upon return to school from break, Jack is back in his office and going through all of the new correspondence and paperwork that has piled up.

Lucas appears in his doorway, lightly knocking. Jack lifts his gaze, waiting for an explanation without a word. Lucas holds up the community service form, all filled out.

Lucas: Just needs your signature.

Jack nods, gesturing him in as he searches for a pen. Lucas waits patiently as he signs on the bottom to verify the hours, handing it back to him promptly. No praise, no congratulations. Just the expected transaction.

Lucas wasn’t expecting anything else. He folds the paper and starts to back out of the office, about to let that be that. But he hesitates, thinking about the past week and all of the other bold choices he’s had to make.

Lucas: I know I messed up.

Jack stiffens, not expecting there to be more either. He pauses to listen, leveling his gaze to watch Lucas. He keeps his expression politely neutral.

Lucas: Kind of seems like that’s all I do. And maybe it is. [ a beat ] But I’m going to try. I’m gonna make it right. I’m gonna make it up to you. I swear.

Lucas holds his gaze, not flinching away from the honesty. Meaning every word of it, and wanting it to be crystal clear.

Then he exits, not wasting another second. Jack stares at where he left, honestly not anticipating this earnest curveball. He has to blink to shake it off, the process of being emotionally removed no longer so plain and simple as it should be in theory.

He settles into his desk, aiming to distract himself via work instead. As he opens his desktop and goes to their email server, a message in his inbox seems to catch his attention. It’s from Evelyn Rand, school board member, and the subject line is a true attention-getter.

“Did you see this?”

Jack opens the email, skimming the message. From what he can tell, Evelyn has forwarded him a complaint that was filed with them over the course of spring break. It’s leveled against AAA, and the last line of her email stands out in particular.

“They intend to go public with this, from what I understand. What are you planning to do?”

Jack’s neutral demeanor is long gone. He frowns as he opens the attachment she’s sent, waiting impatiently as the compiled report on the complaint loads up. It’s a boisterous, flashy campaign against AAA for their “unfair enrollment procedures,” highlighting how personal favors and “special cases” gain coveted spots rather than hard-working, well-deserved, young talent willing to put in the effort and pay the price of admission.

It’s a smear tactic if there ever was one -- filed by a very indignant family -- but the tactic itself is hardly what causes the concern on Jack’s face. It’s the subject they’ve chosen to be their pièce de résistance, the perfect example of how “corrupt” and “unmerited” the current enrollment is.

Lucas James Friar. His school portrait staring back at Jack from the center of the complaint, promising to be the unwitting key talking point for what might very turn out to be an unpleasant and loudly public Bradford temper tantrum.

Break time is definitely over.

END OF EPISODE.

#S2 #209 #episodes #y'all..... Y'ALL HERE WE GO

15 notes · View notes

angsty-nerd · 4 years

Text

Echo-inspired Season 1 Playlist

So I’ve been meaning to share this for… a really long time. But I’m kind of glad that I waited so long because I found a bunch more songs to add and ended up doing an edit on this playlist this weekend, so this is where it landed. It’s a bit of a beast—40+ songs. (And it’s my shorter Echo playlist… I have another one I’m still playing with that has all of these, plus the show’s soundtrack songs, plus recommendations that I’m still considering for future Echo use…so this is the reasonably lengthen one…haha). If you just want to go to Spotify and check it out, here’s the link.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/14ZIHN2MwjfgFbA6yF3RAO?si=5vPkiahyQw-voaZjqMLWsw

If you want to read my rambles about the progression of the songs and why I picked them, along with some lyrics from each one that make me think of Echo, that beastly monstrosity is below the cut for you! Here’s just the track list:

1. Armor - Sara Bareilles 2. People Need a Melody - the Head and the Heart 3. A World to Explore - Joshua Radin 4. Missed Connection - the Head and the Heart 5. Summer Years - Death Cab for Cutie 6. It’s OK - Natalie Taylor 7. Something American - Jade Bird 8. Anchor - Novo Amor 9. Harvest Moon - Neil Young 10. Crash Into Me - Dave Matthews Band 11. Silhouettes - Oscar Blue 12. The Storm - The Airborne Toxic Event 13. The Space Between - Dave Matthews Band 14. Walls - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers 15. Ruins - Jade Bird 16. The Last Time - Taylor Swift feat. Gary Lightbody 17. Run No More - the Talbott Brothers 18. Wild Heart - Bleachers 19. Dream - Bishop Briggs 20. Lullaby - Lord Huron 21. Watch Me - Labi Siffre 22. Grew Up Fast - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers 23. 17 - Jade Bird 24. Your Hurricane - Death Cab for Cutie 25. Lose that Light - Folly and the Hunter 26. Such a Simple Thing - Ray LaMontagne 27. Make These Colors Real - Hush Kids 28. Surrender - Natalie Taylor 29. I’ll Be Your Mirror - Clem Snide 30. Courage - P!nk 31. Easy - Camilla Cabello 32. Day Too Soon - Sis 33. Truly Madly Deeply - Yoke Lore 34. Side by Side - Layup 35. Electric Love - BØRNS 36. Duet - Penny and Sparrow feat. Stephanie Briggs 37. Atlas: Two - Sleeping at Last 38. Another Story - the Head and the Heart 39. Come to this - Natalie Taylor 40. Six Feet Under - Billie Eilish 41. Hello My Old Heart - the Oh Hellos 42. Poetry by Dead Men - Sara Bareilles 43. Recovering the Satellites - Counting Crows 44. The Chain - Ingrid Michaelson

PRE-SHOW

1. Armor - Sara Bareilles

Stolen from Carina’s Liz mix, and obviously heavy on the Ortecho vibe in general. I might associate it a little more with Rosa back in the flashbacks, being proud of Liz and protective of her.

You think I am high and mighty mister Wait til you meet my little sister

2. People Need A Melody - the Head and the Heart

This song just gives me images of Max sitting at home over the years, listening to music, and then Bright Eyes comes on and it just takes him back to that day in the desert when he was lucky enough to be openly in love with Liz for one day before everything went to hell. 💔

All those books in your head, Is that all this really was? Just a role you play that you could hide behind Is it what you want? To bury yourself away Before your time goes I don’t want a love that holds us back I don’t want a life that I can’t have

Cause people need a melody to open their eyes Like a key to a memory frozen in time Holding onto everything, you’re stuck in the past Boy, when you gonna learn the world moves fast?

3. A World to Explore - Josh Radin

Liz leaves on her road trip, pushing the past away, and moving forward into her new life.

Yesterday rains came Everything’s changing The past has closed its door Well I know there’s something more I know there’s so much more So far to go On this open road, a world to explore So far to go On this open road, away we go

4. Missed Connection - the Head and the Heart

Somewhat self explanatory, I think. Mostly I just think of Max staying in Roswell haunted by all of the what ifs, and how close he and Liz came to being something real.

Did you find what you were looking for? Had to open every single door I get the feeling you’ve been here before From a missed connection Don’t tell me I lost a step Criss-crossed in the wrong direction Found myself in a conversation From a missed connection

5. Summer Years - Death Cab for Cutie

This is, like, my #1 Max over the 10 year gap song. I just hear him all through it, haunted by Rosa’s death and the coverup, heartbroken by Liz’s sudden departure, and trapped in his life.

Sometimes I’m overcome by every choice I couldn’t outrun… And I wonder where you are tonight If the one you’re with is a compromise Cause we’re walking lines in parallel That will never meet and it’s just as well

6. It’s Ok - Natalie Taylor

You know in the pilot, Max says he used to think about what he’d say if he ever saw Liz again. Meaning he didn’t really anymore. Meaning at some point he let go of the hope of her returning to Roswell. That’s kind of where my mind goes listening to this song.

It only hurts me to live this way Holding on to yesterday… Close my eyes, you’re gone And I’m the only one still holding on It’s ok I’ve got to let you go

7. Something American - Jade Bird

I have an old-school song fic just waiting to come out inspired by this song… I hear a lot of different things in it. Mostly I hear Max and the memory of Liz and Cameron in it. With a little bit of Kyle thrown in too.

In my dreams I find The stars align and they all collide And it’s you and I back in time It feels so right But you don’t call me now And I don’t think too much about you When she’s not around I can feel you’re lonely

PILOT

8. Anchor - Novo Amor

Max’s reaction to Liz finally coming home & hoping she’ll stay.

I hear your ship is coming in Your tears a sea for me to swim I hear a storm is coming in My dear, is it all we’ve ever been Anchor up to me, love

9. Harvest Moon - Neil Young

Max gets that brief smile on his face when he’s watching Liz dance in the Crashdown, before he lets her know he’s there. And this is what I hear going through his head in that moment.

When we were strangers I’d watch you from afar When we were lovers I’d love you with all my heart… Because I’m still in love with you I want to see you dance again

10. Crash Into Me - Dave Matthews Band

It honestly took me a long time to get on board with adding this one, because it’s such an important OG Max/Liz song. But a while back in one of her Q&As, Carina said that if she could give the pilot a title it’d be this, and even with this different version of Max and Liz it still is the perfect song and perfect metaphor for their experience in the pilot.

Lost for you I’m so lost for you You come crash into me

11. Silhouettes - Oscar Blue

I mean….

Do I need to say anything more? Okay, well here are some lyrics to emphasize my point.

She’s a diamond in the coal Something that enchants my soul Graceful and captivating Just one glance and my mind is invaded… So should I try really really hard Or just keep loving you from afar… Oh can we walk into the sunset Until our bodies are silhouettes Cause busy days cause busy lives And maybe you’ll just keep on walking by Are my hopes just gonna suffocate in my doubt Or am I being my anxious self drowning my chances out

SO MUCH FOR THE AFTERGLOW

12. The Storm - the Airborne Toxic Event

I definitely stole this from someone else’s Echo mix…but take it as a compliment! I definitely see a little bit of Liz coming home in this song, both from her perspective and Max’s. But in my playlist’s narrative I also see this as being kind of like the end of 1x02, when Liz makes the decision to stay and investigate Rosa’s murder.

I surprise myself sometimes The way the days unfold and this road unwinds You tell me you see it too And the miles seem like inches when I think of you It’s been 25 days since I’ve been gone 25 weeks since I’ve seen my home I spent 25 months chasing this song and all of this time I’ve been alone Then you walk right through the doorway You tell me you’re here to stay

TEARING UP MY HEART

13. The Space Between - Dave Matthews Band

So if the last song was the end of 1x02, that means now we’re in the awkward, heartbreaking period where Max is pouring his heart out, and Liz is pretending to feel nothing because she doesn’t trust him. 💔 Which is basically the running theme for the next few songs…

You cannot quit me so quickly There’s no hope in you for me… The space between the wicked lies we tell And hope to keep safe from the pain… We’re strange allies with warring hearts…

14. Walls - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

My brother played this song while we were driving from Phoenix to the Grand Canyon in February. It was the morning after Smells Like Teen Spirit aired, Liz had just told Max that she never wanted to see him again, and I heard this song for the first time and said to myself, “YES.”

All around your island there’s a barricade That keeps out the danger that holds in the pain Sometimes you’re happy sometimes you cry Half of me is ocean half of me is sky But you’ve got a heart so big it could crush this town But I can’t hold out forever even walls fall down

15. Ruins - Jade Bird

Just…I think about Max and that painful scene between him and Liz at the end of this episode, and how much her accusations throw him off. And the resulting explosion that caused the blackout.

How do we have to do this again? I’ll tell you how I’m feeling You’re like a cryptomaniac trying to connect the dots and the facts How do we have to be here? ‘Cause these hotels, I just can’t relax The more I bend, the worse that I snap I feel like a goddamn maniac

Tell me what did I do to deserve somebody like you? It’s too hard to tell the truth nothing’s real and nothing’s rude I’m just a product of my emotions and they’re all setting off again… You sure you wanna do this now? Oh, you sure you wanna do this now?

'Cause I mean it when I say that I don’t understand And I mean it when I say that I’m not sure who I am 'Cause one minute I love you and the next it’s all in ruins One minute thinking of you and the next my mind’s in ruins

WHERE HAVE ALL THE COWBOYS GONE

16. The Last Time - Taylor Swift feat. Gary Lightbody

Very much the Crashdown “how do you truly feel about me” scene.

Find myself at your door just like all those times before I’m not sure how I got there all roads, they lead me here I imagine you are home in your room, all alone And you open your eyes into mine and everything feels better And right before your eyes I’m breaking No past, no reasons why just you and me This is the last time I’m asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I’m asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye

DON’T SPEAK

Don’t Speak is one of my favorite chunks of this playlist. I love the pre-pilot set of songs, this set, and then the Recovering the Satellites to the end set the most out of all of this whole thing. Just thought I’d share. Also 3 of my 4 favorite episodes. Hmmm… 🤔

17. Run No More - the Talbott Brothers

So, this is kind of my interpretation of Max’s POV after learning that Isobel sent Liz away. I feel like that knowledge and the realization that Michael and Isobel had manipulated the biggest heartbreak of his life, and lied to him for a decade about it, kind of freed him in a sense. And for the first time he felt like he could stop hiding and release his guilt. If Liz hadn’t been in trouble, I think he would have gone straight to her and confessed everything.

It doesn’t get easier the further I run It gets harder to carry the weight of what I’ve done I am speaking from experience I don’t wanna run no more

18. Wild Heart - Bleachers Pretty much same themes as above. These two songs to me are kind of the combo of that determination in Max. Above is more focused on his guilt and wanting to reveal the truth. This one is more about his love for Liz and his determination to find her and protect her and love her.

As I sat with the echoes of lies that I told I felt young, never changed by crooked hearts… Well, everything has changed And now it’s only you that matters I will find any way to your wild heart

19. Dream - Bishop Briggs

I don’t remember who did a fanvid to this…was it Mo? It was wonderful and it’s perfect for the end of this episode. Max running to save Liz from Wyatt Long and wanting to come clean to her, even though he knew it would likely still make her turn away from him. Liz breaking down at the end…sniffles.

Oh, I had a dream that you couldn’t hear me screaming Trying to tell you everything but it wouldn’t stop you leaving I wanna wake up where your love is 'Cause your love is always waking mine

I wanna break down where your heart gets So torn it’s almost breaking mine I wanna lay here, lost and bitter So long, I feel like I could die I wanna tell you what my truth is But it’s buried down inside

20. Lullaby - Lord Huron

I heart this song… and I think it speaks to Liz in this episode so much. The danger she puts herself in, Wyatt!Noah coming after her, Max desperately wanting to protect her…

You arrive along with the sun Where have you been darlin’? What have you done? You were out finding trouble again There’s a fire in your eyes and there’s blood on your hands Come inside and lie down to sleep You ain’t gonna run and you know that you’re beat Rest awhile, they’re coming for you There’s a price to be paid for the things that we do

Fall asleep and forget all your troubles Dream of laughter and old friends and lovers Dream of when you were innocent

SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT

21. Watch Me - Labi Siffre Early in the episode, when they were happy and innocent. I feel like this song just kind of captures that young love, high school vibe.

Watch me when you look my way See me smiling, be my night and day Touch me in your own sweet way Feel me tremble, you take my words away All of the time I love you Make you a rhyme, I love you

22. Grew Up Fast - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Here’s another Tom Petty song from my brother’s playlist that we listened to on the way to the Grand Canyon on the day after this episode aired. I heard it, and immediately thought of the Pod Squad (and Liz) and how the incidents surrounding Rosa’s death kind of forced them all out of their youth and into a traumatic adulthood. Also I think it kind of bridges back to the present with Max telling Liz the story of Rosa’s death and her reaction towards him at the end of the episode.

We grew up fast when lies were just a fact of life We grew up mad cause we never had a home… Hey, my brother I’ve got no fight with you, I just can’t lie down Hey, my brother I’ve got no fight with you, I just can’t lie down No, I just can’t lie down, I just can’t lie down Well, you know who I am So don’t treat me like I’m someone else… You never talk like that to no one else You never scream like that for no one else

23. 17 - Jade Bird

This…just…the look on Max’s face when Liz runs out after telling him she never wants to see him again. It’s like his heart is breaking all over again.

You asked me to be yours, well you’re tempting fate How I left a promise but it’s one I can’t make Lord knows it’d kill me if you walked away But darling my lies, they hide you from the pain Stay, let me explain why I act so mean Don’t look away, baby, it’s not all that it seems I’m so afraid that you’ll just get up and leave My heart will break like I’m 17

I SAW THE SIGN & BARELY BREATHING

24. Your Hurricane - Death Cab for Cutie

“Liz Ortecho is my hurricane.” Max is such a ball of anger and angst in this episode. This song may lean a little more on the anger side than really played out in the episode, but I still think it works, considering that Liz spends much of this episode creating the serum.

You used to be such a delicate kid A lonely fish in a sea full of squid So I can’t blame you for leaving how you did You just fell off the grid 'Cause heaven is a hole in the sky The stars are cracks in the ceiling of night But you can’t be your own alibi As hard as you try It’s a tired refrain you’re singing over and over again As you try to explain who’s at fault for your mistakes But I won’t be the debris in your hurricane

25. Lose That Light - Folly and the Hunter

I don’t recall where I got this song from…it may have come from someone else’s playlist. But it makes me think about how rough of a go Max has it in Barely Breathing and how Liz is, like, the light that kind of guides him through it, that he has faith in to save his sister.

In my arms you fell, after fighting tooth and nail. The convictions you have are all gone now. You followed that trail, just to take a chance and fail. Do not let that dark voice call you out Even if it gets hard, don’t lose that light…

26. Such a Simple Thing - Ray LaMontagne

I see this as the end of the episode, when they are so close to being on the same page, but Liz is still afraid and still puts up that wall. Max sees how amazing she is, how she’s willing to fight to save Isobel for him. And Liz is beginning to feel it as well, because the drive to do it for Max, to comfort him, was so powerful. “My heart is like paper” = Max, “yours is like a flame” = Liz.

Tell me what you’re feeling I can take the pain Tell me that you mean it That you won’t leave again Tell me what your heart wants Such a simple thing My heart is like paper Yours is like a flame

SONGS ABOUT TEXAS

27. Make These Colors Real - Hush Kids

This song just makes me think about that vibe all through Songs About Texas prior to the kiss. The heart eyes looks, the touches, how close they are to going there, even though it hasn’t happened yet. This is also the only song I couldn’t find lyrics for online so I transcribed as best I can, but I couldn’t figure one line out, so I just left it off the post! Sorryyyy…

I guess you win, I guess I’ll see you around again Locked eyes, brushed hands. I’ll lie and say we’re only friends Yes I want you but I don’t want to Cause I can’t hold you when I want to So maybe I’m selfish, maybe it’s reckless Maybe I’m out of my mind

Ooh you make me weak you, you make me seek you You’d make me dive down to the depth of your ocean Ooh if I could hold you… I’d make these colors real

28. Surrender - Natalie Taylor

Throughout this whole episode I feel like there’s a general sense of Liz giving up her fight against Max. She can’t hide how much she loves him anymore. She hasn’t quite decided to be with him yet…but throughout the episode that wall thins more and more until she finally does give in to him.

No one will win this time I just want you back I’m running to your side Flying my white flag, my white flag… Whenever you’re ready, whenever you’re ready Can we, can we surrender I surrender

29. I’ll Be Your Mirror - Clem Snide

I’m pretty sure this came from another Echo playlist…because it’s the perfect song to represent Max’s speech to Liz to reveal how well he sees her.

I find it hard to believe you don’t know The beauty you are But if you don’t let me be your eyes A hand to your darkness, so you won’t be afraid When you think the night has seen your mind That inside you’re twisted and unkind Let me stand to show that you are blind Please put down your hands 'Cause I see you I’ll be your mirror, reflect what you are

30. Courage - P!nk

That split second before Liz decides to grab Max and pull him in for the kiss…

See, I let the light in the darkest places Let the sun shine, pain goes away Nothing is permanent for me Have I the courage to change?

31. Easy - Camilla Cabello

It’s almost ridiculous how Echo’s first kiss this song is. Like, seriously, Camilla? Do you watch RNM? Are you an Echo shipper? Is this your own personal fan song?

You really, really know me The future and the old me All of the mazes and the madness in my mind You really, really love me You know me and you love me And it’s the kind of thing I always hoped I’d find

Always thought I was hard to love 'Til you made it seem so easy, seem so easy Always thought I was hard to love 'Til you made it seem so easy, seem so easy Touch me 'til I find myself, in a feeling Tell me with your hands that you’re never leaving Always thought I was hard to love 'Til you made it seem so easy, seem so easy All I know is you, heal me when I’m broken, heal me when I’m broken All I know is you, saved me and you know it, saved me and you know it

32. Day Too Soon - Sia

Liz making the choice that it is finally the right time for her to stop running. Okay, Max has been waiting patiently, but for Liz everything has finally perfectly collided.

Pick me up in your arms Carry me away from harm You’re never gonna put me down I know you’re just one good man You’ll tire before we see land You’re never gonna put me down You’ll risk all this for just a kiss I promise I will not resist

Promise you won’t hold me down And when we reach a good place Let’s be sure to leave no trace Promise they won’t track us down

Now I’ve been running all my life I ran away, I ran away from good Yeah, I’ve been waiting all my life You’re not a day, you’re not a day too soon

33. Truly Madly Deeply - Yoke Lore

Awesome cover of 90’s song? Check! Super romantic to the point of almost cheesy? Check! It’s got Echo getting together written all over it.

I’ll be your dream, I’ll be your wish, I’ll be your fantasy. I’ll be your hope, I’ll be your love, be everything that you need. I’ll love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply do I want to stand with you on a mountain I want to bathe with you in the sea. I want to lay like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me

I DON’T WANT TO MISS A THING, CHAMPAGNE SUPERNOVA, CREEP

34. Side By Side - Layup

Sadly, I don’t have a lot of songs for this chunk of episodes for Echo. But they’re finally together, on the same team, being awesome, so that’s pretty much all I’m getting at with this song.

And so, now I go down all these roads with you, my home And now, I’ll keep you close I hope you know - I love you most So here I walk by your side, oh, on our own time Oh, we’ll be alright, as long as we stay side by side From the coldest nights to warmer degrees we’ll get by You and I, side by side

RECOVERING THE SATELLITES

35. Electric Love - BØRNS

I mean… Alien!God Max channeling all that lightning to get the job done is fucking sexy. And then he just marches home to worship his love the way Liz deserves. *nods firmly*

Baby you’re like lightning in a bottle I can’t let you go now that I got it All I need is to be struck By your electric love Baby, you’re electric love Electric love Rushing through me I feel your energy rushing through me…

36. Duet - Penny and Sparrow f/ Stephanie Briggs

Echo love scene. Just ignore that Liz is not wearing a dress. Everything else fits. And the chorus? *chefs kiss* “Because I’ve seen you and I know you”...ties right back to their first kiss and Max proving to Liz that he isn’t holding onto some high school fantasy. “And I’m not going anywhere”...it breaks my heart because it was 100% true in that moment…but hours later Max is dead. 😭

I bet your shoulders can hold more than just the straps of that tiny dress That I’ll help you slide aside when we get home I’ve seen 'em carry family and the steel drum weight of me Effortless, just like that dress that I’ll help off I bet your back can carry more than just the weight of your button-down One by one, they’ll come undone when we get home I’ve seen you carry family and all my insecurities One by one, they’ll come undone when we get home

Because I’ve seen you And I know you And I’m not going anywhere

37. Atlas: Two - Sleeping at Last

This is, like, the most Max song ever. Especially where his head is at right at the end of Recovering the Satellites after he and Liz make love, when he is straight up in worshipful puppy mode. It makes me both 😍 and 😭, because I love how much he loves her, but I know how unhealthy his devotion is, and that it leads to him dying.

Sweetheart, you look a little tired when did you last eat? Come in and make yourself right at home stay as long as you need Tell me, is something wrong? If something’s wrong, you can count on me You know I’ll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat It’s okay if you can’t find the words Let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders

Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you with every single thing I have Like a tidal wave, I’ll make a mess Or calm waters, if that serves you best I will love you without any strings attached It’s okay if you can’t catch your breath You can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest I know exactly how the rule goes put my mask on first No, I don’t want to talk about myself tell me where it hurts I just want to build you up, build you up ‘til you’re good as new And maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too I don’t even know where to start Already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well I just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved myself Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you without any strings attached What a privilege it is to love A great honor to hold you, love Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you with every single thing I have Like a tidal wave, I’ll make a mess Or calm waters if that serves you best I will love you without any strings attached I will love you without a single string attached

38. Another Story - the Head and the Heart

In my head this is another afterglow, Max manic on love & power and it pushes him to do something crazy song...I both see he and Liz happy together in his bed in the morning sunlights and flickering firelight...and Max deciding to heal Rosa. 😍😭

These are just flames burning in your fireplace I hear your voice and it seems as if it was all a dream I wish it was all a dream I see a world, a world turning in on itself Are we just like hungry wolves howling in the night I don’t want no music tonight

Every time I hear another story Oh the poor boy lost his head Everybody feels a little crazy But we go on living with it

39. Come to This - Natalie Taylor

Liz crying over Max’s body 😭😭😭. There is no heart eyes here. It’s all just paaaain. 😭😭😭

How can this happen? How can this be? There is no ending, there is no peace The darkness is so close The light so quickly goes And now it’s all gone Now it’s all gone Will you hear me when I speak? Do you feel the pain with me? I’ve tried to be so strong I thought that hope would come But you’re not here

Oh, the darkness keeps its grip Oh, how’d it come to this? Oh, please come back Please come back

40. Six Feet Under - Billie Eilish

More Liz crying over Max’s body…and just love and pain and death and sadness. 😭😭😭

Retrace my lips Erase your touch It’s all too much for me Blow away Like smoke in air How can you die carelessly? Our love is six feet under I can’t help but wonder If our grave was watered by the rain Would roses bloom? Could roses bloom?

POST-SEASON 1

These are just kind of my headcanon songs of various post-S1 reactions from Liz at various different dark moments.

41. Hello My Old Heart - the Oh Hellos

I see a lot of people attribute this song to Liz at the beginning of the show, but I think it’s more appropriate at the end of the season. I’d love it if they use this song in Season 2. I see it more as Liz putting the walls she had at the beginning of the show back up again after loving and losing Max, which would break my heart. But I think it’s how she would cope while he’s gone and then those walls would come back down.

Hello, my old heart It’s been so long Since I’ve given you away And every day, I add another stone To the walls I built around you To keep you safe

Oh, oh, don’t leave me here alone Don’t tell me that we’ve grown For having loved a little while Oh, oh, I don’t wanna be alone I wanna find a home And I wanna share it with you

42. Poetry By Dead Men - Sara Bareilles

I can see this scene in my head. I can see Liz and Max both longing for this scene in their head. Just the simple domesticity of drinking coffee together in the afterglow, while Max reads poetry to Liz. Except that he had to go and die first and that just fucking sucks. So I hear some anger and a little bit of “don’t let the door hit you on your way out” in this song, and I could see Liz occasionally just having moments of anger in her grief where she feels this way. Briefly.

By the time you hear this, who knows where I might be Singing about another near-miss love that ended incomplete I was ready, but you weren’t So jump with your net from this bridge you’ve burned I wanted to tell you things, all the secrets I’ve been keeping I saw it in front of me, but then you just kept disappearing A good dream, almost, now I tell your ghost

I wanted to be your girl in a white T-shirt Over coffee, stirring in the cinnamon While you read me poetry by dead men I wanted to be your girl with your hands on my skin Stirring in the cinnamon While you read me poetry by dead men

43. Recovering the Satellites - Counting Crows

This is one of the few episode titles where the lyrics actually get to me, like in a plotty way. But not necessarily from what happens in the episode, so much as the idea of Liz questioning later whether the brief moment of love she had with Max was worth all of the accompanying pain. 😭😭😭😭

So why’d you come home to this sleepless town? It’s a lifetime commitment, recovering the satellites All anybody really wants to know is When you’re gonna come down, when you’re gonna come down But we only stay in orbit for a moment of time And then you’re everybody’s satellite I wish that you were mine, I wish that you were mine

44. The Chain - Ingrid Michaelson

Definitely stole this from someone else, but it’s perfect and I love ending with it, because even though it’s loaded down with all of the pain we’re feeling at the end of the season, it also has a little twinge of hope and possibility for that future day when Max comes back (which we all know he will)! So in other words, it’s 😭😭😍😍

The sky looks pissed The wind talks back My bones are shifting in my skin And you my love are gone My room feels wrong The bed won’t fit I cannot seem to operate And you my love are gone

I’ll never say that I’ll never love But I don’t say a lot of things And you my love are gone

So glide away on soapy heels And promise not to promise anymore And if you come around again Then I will take, Then I will take, The chain from off the door

#music of my soul #rnm echo music #rnm echo

18 notes · View notes