#My dad is NOT a computer guy he can barely handle windows

[infriga]

My dad, who doesn't know how to forward an email, trying to figure out his new chromebook: "should I download Linux?"

Me: "I think if you got within 50 feet of a computer that uses Linux you would die instantly."

[rendevousz]

little hacker

avengers x fem!teen!reader

characters: brief clint barton, tony stark, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, peter parker

summary: you hacked into tony's systems and he, along with the team, track you down.

warnings: mentions of death and a car crash, hacking written by someone who has no idea how it works

word count: 3241

note: hi um this is my first oneshot on tumblr i hope you like it!!

you were 14 when you first met the avengers. your family had gotten into a tragic car accident and you were the only one who made it out alive, leaving you in excessive guilt and burden; guilt because you were the only one granted a second chance at life and burden because you had to live your life, barely scraping by as you were dropped the responsibility of taking care of your sick grandmother.

at 11, where all that the kids your age had to worry about was whether their pocket money was enough to get themselves an after-school snack, you worried whether or not the money left to your name was enough to survive.

at 11, where girls worried about their changing bodies and asked their mothers about it, you had to figure it all out yourself and with the help of your trusty laptop, the only gadget you had, one that your dad had gifted to you after you had gotten 100s for all your tests at age 8. he thought you were his little prodigy and figured a laptop would treat you well. you took care of it well because while you didn't want to spend the last of your money left, —that was specifically set aside for your grandmother's hospital bills— you wanted to hold on to the laptop for as long as you could, as a reminder of your loving father, as well as the memories the item held, after you've watched movies with pretty much all of your passed family members on that laptop at different points in your life. that was why whenever the thing lagged due to how much you've been using it, you almost always figure out how to fix it until it was good as new.

at 12, while your classmates had their parents to protect them when they were out at night, you feared for your life whenever you were out past dark. which led you to learning self defence from youtube videos. you learned them pretty quickly and with your sharp-wittedness, you no longer feared to be out at night. you even had the honours of trying out your skills when some men thought they could get you just because you were smaller than them.

at 12, where kids your age were having fun, enjoying their childhood, you had no choice but to be mature and think for the good of yourself and your sick grandmother. you were forced to grow up and you were probably more mature and intelligent than the rest of your classmates combined.

and at 13, you realised that money wasn't going to grow on trees and the money you were left with wasn't going to last forever. it had to last until you were old enough to work. but with your grandmother's condition getting worse and worse, you were forced to drop out of school. you were upset because you loved it. you loved knowledge. but family came first and the only thing that your knowledge increased on was on computers.

which led to you being able to hack into tony stark's bank account at only 14. you had no other choice than to steal money and who better to steal it from than a guy whose pocket change could probably last you another five years or so? you knew who tony stark was, the whole world knows who he is. and you thought that maybe he would be too preoccupied with his alter ego saving the whole world, along with his group of earth's mightiest heroes that he wouldn't notice the tiny bit of money you'd stolen from him.

of course the billionaire had been alerted immediately by his AI when you'd accessed into his systems. "security breach?" he exclaimed, immediately dropping the tool he was tinkering his suit with in his lab.

he spent about 3 minutes, that was how long you took touring around in his systems, observing what you did in it. he watched as you did nothing about the highly confidential information he had and instead, stole....5 grand from his bank account? that was barely a scratch to his account. what was going on?

he had requested FRIDAY to track down the hacker, mainly because he was perplexed that someone had hacked into his well protected system just to steal a tiny bit of money but it seems that even FRIDAY couldn't track down where it came from.

he told the team and it was then that everyone worried how dangerous the hacker could possibly be.

"who steals just 5 grand after hacking into a billionaire's bank account?" clint frowned after tony had explained the whole situation. "i mean, if i managed to hack into your systems, i'd do way more than just steal a couple bucks."

"exactly. and who knows? they might just be waiting for the right moment to install dangerous malware into the system and until we find the culprit, they're roaming somewhere out there with all our confidential information right at the tip of their fingers. if they decide to use it against us..." tony trailed off, for once having a worried expression on his otherwise nonchalant face. he's never been this clueless about what to do with any sort of technical issues concerning the avengers or himself.

you on the other hand, after getting complacent that you weren't caught, kept doing so for the next couple months or so. you had no ill intentions, just trying to scrape by. the whole situation puzzled tony. he didn't care how much you've taken from him in total now, you were right; it was merely pocket change to him. but you were still considered a threat since you had free access to his systems and he didn't even know who you were or where you were.

that was until you made a tiny mistake, one that if tony wasn't spending every waking moment trying to track you down he wouldn't have noticed. and though it was a small mistake, it certainly was going to change how things ran from then on.

that afternoon, after having just gotten back from visiting your grandmother at the hospital, you were planning to get more money from the billionaire's bank account at the comfort of your own home. god, hospital bills were expensive. once you had had a little snack, you settled down on the couch and opened your laptop. but being the quick-witted person you were, before the screen in front of you lit up, you saw movement from behind you.

your heart raced. you could handle fighting people but those usually happened in alleys at nighttime. this was in your home, your safe place. you made sure to lock the doors and there weren't fire escapes outside your windows so how did the intruder get in?

you could tell they were trying to be inconspicuous to get to you and so you let them. you let the person think that they were going to get you without a fight but when they were right behind you, you swiftly turned your body around and jumped over the couch. the masked intruder let out a surprised yelp and the two of you fought for a bit. before you knew it, you had them pinned under you in just ten seconds.

"wha– how– what?" it sounded like a boy. you looked down at him and noticed his red and blue spandex suit. you frowned. wasn't this the friendly neighbourhood spiderman guy or something? why was a superhero breaking into your home?

he was coughing from your knee pressing down onto his chest and you lifted it slightly, enough for him to breathe but not enough to escape. he seemed grateful though because he muttered a seemingly embarrassed 'thanks'.

"get off the kid or i'll blast you off of him myself."

you look up and saw the iron man repulsor aimed right at you, and obviously iron man himself was standing right there in the middle of your small apartment. behind him stood a redhead, who you knew as the black widow, aiming a pistol at you, and a man with a shield, captain america. the spiderboy must've come in through the window and unlocked the door for them.

when you made eye contact with steve, he frowned in confusion. you looked way too young to be the culprit they had expected. he muttered a quiet 'wait, what?' before tony stark revealed himself, his iron man faceplate opening.

"um...kid? where are your parents? or guardian? we need to see them because there's been some highly illegal activity coming from this address." the man in the suit spoke. you stayed still, knee still pressing against the boy under you, frowning at the adults in the room. they noticed your apprehensiveness and slowly lowered their weapons. "we're not here to hurt you, you can release the boy now," steve told you gently.

you usually weren't one to trust easily but since these people were known superheroes, you reluctantly stood up, still anxious of the possibilities of what they could do to you. the spiderboy got up too and dusted his back, before going to stand next to steve. you were confused as to why these heroes were breaking in your home until you remembered what you had been up to for the past weeks. how could you forget when that was the only reason you were still surviving?

your eyes widened with fear when they met tony's soft ones. he looked at you with such care and worry that you were reminded of your late dad. the man in front of you wasn't the arrogant man you've watched on youtube. you felt bad for stealing from him now. you used to think that he deserved it, despite how little you took compared to how much he had. the man knelt down before you so he didn't appear so big in front of you, seeing your frightened expression. little did he know you were frightened for a totally different reason.

"anyone else living here, kid? because i tracked down this address and someone has been stealing money from me. i might need to have a little talk with them." he explained, looking around the house. you fiddled with the hem of your shirt nervously, scared of what would come once you came clean about your actions. you were scared you were going to be taken in for juvenile crime but you were also scared of the consequences of lying straight to their faces. so you took a deep breath before deciding to just tell the truth.

"t–that would be me, sir." you admitted in a small voice, avoiding eye contact with the billionaire you had been stealing from. a few shocked looks from the team and an incredulous 'what?' from tony had you biting the inside of your cheeks in fear.

"i'm truly sorry about that, sir. i..." you trailed off, debating whether or not to justify your actions because you thought that he might not even want to listen to it. "i had to pay off my grandmother's hospital bills because she is very sick. my family died a few years ago in a car crash and i was the only one who made it. i was left some money to my name but having to survive on that along with paying off nana's bills, it was bound to run out. i...i thought that since you were a billionaire, stealing a few thousands wouldn't matter to you...i'm so sorry, sir. i– i'll start working to pay you back.." you stuttered out, holding your hands together so it would minimise the shaking.

tony's mouth opened and closed, like fish out of water, not knowing what to say to you. he stood up and you were on the verge of breaking down right then and there, feeling as small as you did before he knelt before you. "p–please don't report me, sir. i– i don't know what would happen to my nana if you do.. i swear to you that i didn't mess with your other files. i only accessed the system for your bank account and that was it. i have no ill intentions, please don't report me.." you were now the one kneeling down in front of him, begging.

the team were flabbergasted at the scene unfolding before them and tony was quick to get you off your knees, which scared you even more because the death grip of his metal hands on your forearms had your mind running wild at the millions of possibilities of what he would do to you. was he going to kill you and leave you somewhere that people were never going to find your body? or was he going to dispose of you and use his power to remove you permanently from the system so no one came looking for you? he had the power to ruin your life and you feared that.

snapping you out of your mental breakdown, he spoke softly. "hey, it's okay." and that was when you realised the 'death grip' he had on your forearms had only been your paranoia getting the best of you. he was barely even touching you. your teary eyes looked up at his soft, brown ones in fear.

then he smiled at you.

"it's okay. i understand the reason why you did what you did. you're a good kid, your nana is so lucky to have you. what's your name?" he knelt down before you once again, knowing that him standing tall in his iron man suit terrified you. "y/n." you responded timidly.

"how old are you, y/n?" this time, it was steve who asked. you had forgotten that there were other people in the room, too consumed by your fear for your life a few moments ago. "i'm fourteen, mr america, sir." you whispered out, the sight of captain america in person intimidating you until you saw a kind smile on his face.

"you're pretty young to be doing what you've been doing, y/n. are you aware that you're the first person to be able to hack into my heavily protected, supposedly impenetrable network? many have tried to do so and failed, and they were really smart people too. have you been doing this for a while?" tony asked.

"um...my father gifted me this laptop when i was 8 because i did exceptionally well in school. he believed i was a child prodigy and let me have a laptop since he knew my studies wouldn't be affected by the distraction of entertainment. i used to only hack into games to cheat my way up the ranks but only recently i tried something else since i had nothing better to do and i've been out of school for a while now. i knew you were a billionaire so i tried just for the heck of it and surprised myself when i got in on the first try. and then i saw your bank account details and i really needed money so i stole some... again, i'm so sorry about that." you apologised, looking down at your feet.

he couldn't believe it. you were just messing around and you managed to get into his system? you, a mere fourteen year old who was out of school, managed to single handedly do what geniuses around the world had failed to do?

he was initially just going to have a talk with the hacker, and in case they were dangerous and had backup, he brought his own. but bringing steve, natasha and peter proved to be unnecessary when the culprit turned out to be you.

"where did you learn those moves?" natasha stepped closer towards you. you looked up at the redhead, noticing the glare she had on you when she aimed her pistols at you was replaced with curiosity.

you fiddled with the hem of your shirt even more, embarrassed to tell her that you learned to fight from a couple of youtube videos when she had gotten years of actual training. you were pathetic compared to her. "i, um, i learned them from some youtube videos."

her eyebrows raised in surprise at the revelation. you hadn't gotten professional training yet you moved like you had. peter had superhuman strength, agility and endurance yet you took him down in under ten seconds. sure it may have been a disadvantage to peter because he was caught off guard but he should've been able to take you down still.

now was tony going to let the chance of a lifetime slip by? no, of course he was immediately thinking of recruiting you. your dad had been right about you being a prodigy. you adapted to new skills quickly and you were perfect for recruitment.

"hey kid, wanna be an avenger?"

your eyes widened and your jaw dropped in shock. steve immediately turned to him, an incredulous look on his face as he glared dangerously at the billionaire. "stark, you wanna think about this for a minute?"

"thank about what, cap? you saw what she did to the spiderling. and she successfully hacked into my system on her first try and we took weeks to trace her. romanoff back me up here," he saw how impressed natasha was by you and he knew the redhead wasn't going to disagree. "stark's right, steve. she's only fourteen and she's capable of so much already. we need someone like her."

"exactly! she's only fourteen! this life is dangerous for her!" steve argued. peter then tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "hey, mr rogers, i'm a sixteen-year-old avenger and she took me down easily. not gonna lie, it hurt my pride, also my back when you flipped me over your shoulder," he turned to you but you didn't say anything because you couldn't see his facial expression. "but i think she's going to be okay, sir."

steve sighed before turning to you, the defeated expression on his face softening when you looked up at him with your doe eyes and a small smile. you didn't answer to tony just yet since it seemed that steve had a say in it as well but you were dying to say yes. not only were you not going to be reported for your crimes but to be recruited by iron man himself to be an avenger? who could say no to that? not you, at least, since you had nothing better to do with your life at the moment.

"well, what do you say, kid?"

your smile grew and you nodded happily. the team couldn't help but crack a smile at how happy you looked for the first time since they've encountered you.

"well, you should go pack your important stuff so we can go back to the tower. you're going to be moving in if you're an official member of the avengers." tony told you and you nodded, walking towards your room to start packing while the team sat on the couch to wait for you.

"wait, what's going to happen to my nana?" you turned back towards them, worry etched onto you face. "don't worry about it, kid. you can give me the details later and i'll settle it. she'll be in good hands." he assured. "okay." you mumbled in response.

you were actually going to be an avenger. "awesome.." you grinned to yourself as you packed.

[butwhyduh]

A Date to Remember

Damian Wayne x Superman’s daughter reader

Damian is 20, reader 19, Jon is her little brother at 18 and Kon acts like an older brother to her.

Warning: angsty and kidnapping

You’d always told Damian that the sunset on the Kent farm was the best in the world. Damian smiled a little as he drove down the long road to Smallville. Damian had thought about classic dinner date in one of Metropolis’ fanciest restaurants but you insisted on meeting him in a barn.

He felt underdressed. Blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Why did he let Jon help him get dressed? He felt ridiculous but at least he wore sensible shoes. But deep down Damian knew you world like it. And he was certainly willing to feel a little foolish for you.

Clark was off world and Lois was on a mission. Jon had his own date in the city so it was the both of you alone tonight. How long had it been since the two of you were alone without someone around? Between his half a dozen brothers and your family with literal super hearing... yeah it’s been tough. So being 50 miles from everyone was kind of a dream.

Damian pulled in the driveway with some flowers and walked up to the house. He knocked on the door only for it to swing open. Damian noticed the splintered door frame and his heart sped up. He called your name. Act like the rich billionaire son while working like Robin, even though he wasn’t quite sure he still wanted the name.

He scanned every surface and he noticed a small scratch near the back door after looking through every room. Most people wouldn’t even notice it. You weren’t there. He looked closely and saw drag marks in the gravel path to the barn. His heart was thundering at this point. You weren’t in the barn either.

You were half Kryptonian but the genetic inheritance was complicated. Jon had won the lottery with having most of his father’s powers and not being as sensitive to Kryptonite. You had lost it. Hypersensitive to Kryptonite and only some speed and increased hearing and strength. Barely about the average human. You weren’t a fighter.

Damian pulled out his phone to call Jon.

“Bit busy here, Damian,” Jon said, sounding far from amused. Damian could hear kissing noises in the background and frowned. He didn’t want to hear that.

“Your sister is missing,” he said and he heard a lot of movement on the phone.

“What??”

“The door jam was kicked in and there are scrap marks of her being dragged away. I think she’s been kidnapped,” Damian said. His voice felt tight. He, son of Batman, let his girlfriend get kidnapped. “Whoever it was clearly waited until she had no other Kryptonians around to grab her. It wasn’t a coincidence that she was taken tonight. Can you get out here? I’m calling father to try and trace her. Her phone is missing too.”

“I’m leaving in 5. Damian, if Luther has her, she can’t handle Krytonite,” Jon said, worry bleeding into his voice. “It’s like it poisons her.”

“I know. But we don’t know who has her. Let’s hope they don’t know she’s part Krytonian,” Damian said, already mentally moving on to his next step. Contact Bruce. Get the bat computer to trace her. Look for more evidence. Don’t freak out completely that she might be poisoned by Kyrotonite.

“Okay. I’m about to fly. I’ll see you soon,” Jon said before hanging up.

——————————

You woke up with a cough. You head throbbed and your stomach rolled as you laid in a bed? Maybe a couch? It was a horrible feeling but you knew exactly what it was: Kryptonite. You couldn’t forget what how that stuff made you feel. You tried to look around to see it but the room was completely dark. Night vision would be nice but you got human eyes. Your slightly enhanced hearing heard nothing but the wind outside. Okay, you were ground level or higher.

You tried to twist in the cuffs that bound your hands only to cry out. There was the Kryptonite. It was on the outside of the cuffs and you almost threw up at it touched your skin. You were cuffed with Kryptonite to a hospital bed, you figured. What other bed had areas perfect for cuffs? Your legs were equally restrained and you felt so exposed in the dark room.

Your dad was off world. He wouldn’t hear you if you called for him. But Jon might. But if you yelled, someone might come in and who knows what they would do. You’d wait a little bit longer. You wanted to fall asleep. The Kryptonite made you feel so dull. Like the first time you were exposed to it.

You were all of 4 years old. Your dad had brought you with him to the Justice League meeting. Relatively safe and Batman promised Robin would watch you. Dick was so excited to be a babysitter. You had hugged him tight enough to hurt before running to the climbing wall.

“Hey!” Called the 16 year old. “I brought games instead!”

You warily walked back over to him and card games and board games fell out of a duffle bag as he opened it. Half the stuff you were far too young for. You bent down as he scooped up his gameboy. You pulled out some games and open a side pocket to grab a small metal box. Dick sat down his gameboy carefully before turning back to you.

“Don’t open th-“ he started before you pulled open the box to show a bright green stone. Followed by you throwing up all over his bag of games. You dropped the box and sat on the floor. Dick quickly closed the box with the piece of Kryptonite and put it in his pocket. He had boroughed one of Bruce’s bags that apparently wasn’t fully unpacked.

“Dad, I don’t feel good,” you said as Clark ran over. Dick looked at you so guiltily.

“I didn’t know,” he swore. “I’m so sorry.” Bruce stood by quietly.

“We need to talk later,” Clark had told Bruce and yeah, they were mad at each other for a while.

——————————————

Jon arrived shortly in a dress shirt and slacks and he looked at Damian just as weird as Damian looked at him. They had basically switched clothing.

“Not to judge but that’s date clothing? You told me to not wear flannel,” Jon said accusingly.

“That’s because your sister wanted me to wear this,” Damian said back. “Let’s focus on finding her. Father’s calling me now. We’ll change in a minute.”

“Hello, you’re on speaker phone,” Damian said.

“Her tracker is showing a warehouse owned by Luthor Corp in downtown Metropolis,” Bruce said. “Do you need help? I can see if Dick is nearby.”

“No thanks. Jon will help me. Thank you, father,” Damian said before hanging up.

“Luthor. I knew it,” Jon said with a frown. “Wait, you put a tracker on my sister? Does she know?”

“Now is not the time. Let’s get to Metropolis,” Damian said, changing the subject while both got dressed. Jon nodded and offered his arms. “I’m not being carried like that. I’ll hold on your back,” Damian said. Jon rolled his eyes and nodded again.

As they flew over corn fields and pastures, Jon began to question Damian. “So when did you put this tracker in? Does she even know? Where is it? Do I want to even know?”

“It’s sub-dermal in her forearm and I haven’t told her yet. And it’s irrelevant right now as it might save her life,” Damian said and Jon looked disgusted. “We need to focus on saving her and then you can be her angry brother.”

“Wow...”

————————————

You moved and the cuffs burned your skin. You gasped and screamed “Jon! Kon!” You called out to them hoping one of them would hear you.

“Dad!” you cried frantic. There was no way he would hear you. “Damian! Jonathan! Conner!”

You panted and your head pounded. You were so tired. You’d lose consciousness if no one saved you. Then who knows what they would do to you.

“Superman!” You screamed desperately before finally passing out.

——————————

“Did you hear that?” Jon said as they flew towards the Metropolis skyline.

“No all I hear is wind. What did you hear?” Damian said.

“Y/n. She’s calling for us,” Jon said speeding up.

“Is she okay?” Fear bled into Damian’s voice.

“I can’t tell. I’m trying to hurry,” Jon said flying quickly towards the industrial area of the city. He landed on the roof of a warehouse. Jon’s eyes glowed as he looked through the building.

“7 men. 4 posted outside the door to the room that’s she’s being held on the 2nd floor. Her heart rate is steady and she isn’t screaming any more. Almost sounds asleep,” Jon said after his analysis.

“Probably tranquilizer. Father’s data said this building is used for research purposes. Does that fit?” Damian asked.

“Uh more like research subject holding. Maybe a small lab on the first floor but other than cameras everywhere, there isn’t much science stuff that I can scan. But also the basement is sealed off,” Jon said.

“How?”

“Lead bound. You can check it out while I rescue her. 4 guys is nothing,” Jon said making a fist.

“Hold on. Luthor would probably have her surrounded by Kryptonite. Just in case one of you look for her. And that’s the last thing we need,” Damian said. “I’ll rescue her and you look for the basement. Knowing Luthor, it’s probably an entire facility of experiments below. He just hadn’t gotten her room ready yet.”

Jon looked frustrated. “Fine. You rescue her but be careful. She is the weakest of us. She’s not invulnerable to bullets or anything.”

“Most of the people I rescue aren’t either,” Damian reminded him. “And I’m certainly not taking a chance with my beloved.”

Jon looked over to respond but Damian was already gone. Just like the rest of the bats: silent goodbyes. Jon quietly moved down to the first floor. He was working but at the same time, his ear was trained on his sister’s heartbeat. Jon might be the younger sibling but she didn’t have powers and he felt so protective.

—————————————

Damian rolled his eyes at the 5 ways he could see that the security sucks in the 3 minutes he hung out the window before climbing in. Large rafters and guards who didn’t bother to look up. Not to mention the fact that they let there be a solid wall between the set of guards which meant that Damian was easily able to jump down to knock them out in pairs without the other set knowing. If the security was any worse they would leave the door unlocked.

The door wasn’t unlocked but it was a deadbolt that Damian easily disabled. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was on purpose. He gulped before opening the door. What if you were really hurt? Or dead? Ignore and get in there.

Damian opened the door and he felt white hot rage. You were tied to a bed and were unconscious. You were in a nice dressy shirt and sweatpants. They’d clearly taken you while you were getting dressed. Damian wanted to kill them. He had to take a breath to help you. Jon was taking them out and Damian was on rescue. He had to stay level headed.

Even the cuffs on your wrists were inadequate. If they had attempted to restrain Damian, he would have gotten out in 3 minutes. When he was 6 years old. The Kryptonite had left nasty red burns on your skin and he clenched his jaw at the sight. Jon better be punching extra hard.

Damian picked you up bridal style and you groaned a little before turning your head against his chest. The farther he got you from that fucking Kryotonite the better you were. He took you to the roof and you started waking up.

“Damian,” you said softly and a little confused.

“Hey you’re awake. How are you feeling?” He asked looking all over your face for injury.

“Kryptonite. I hate that stuff,” you said. Damian grabbed your hand and you hissed. He looked to see bright red knuckles. You’d clearly fought at some point. He certainly knew the signs of punching someone.

“You fought back?”

“Yeah and hitting someone in a helmet and body armor sucks. I got just a few in before they pulled out the damn rock. I throw up every damn time,” you said shaking your head.

Before Damian could comment on how brave and stupid it was to punch body armor, there was a huge crash down on the first floor as someone flew in the building through the window. You grabbed him tightly.

“What the hell is that?”

“Kon. Conner’s here. I’m up here,” you yelled.

Conner flew up to the roof. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Kidnapped. Damian and Jon saved me. He’s still down there actually. Can you check on him?” You said. Damian suddenly stood up.

“What if you were a distraction and the real problem is downstairs?” Damian suddenly said with clarity. The Kryptonite alone was enough to hold you down. The half ass security was to hold their attention when they rescued you. Jon was already flying back down before Damian could say more. Damian weighed his options: leave you alone, bring you with him, or stay out of it and while the last sounded nice, he’d have to go in case of more Kryptonite.

Before Damian could decide, Kon was back on the roof. “You’ve got to come see this.”

Downstairs was a lead lined basement. That alone had you nervous. Jon stood by the door. Little spattering of blood could be seen on his hands. He had a hard look.

“Warning: this is going to be messed up,” he said and you were even more worried. You walked in to see cages. Kids. Unconscious adults lay around in the hallway. “They were experimenting on them.”

You felt nauseous.

“My father is on the way. This is much bigger than I thought,” Damian said messing with his comms. His free hand was on your shoulder protectively.

There were 8 kids in cages. Bruce was running tests on their blood and investigating the area as you helped to get them out of the cages. What a terrible Valentine’s Day.

“Beloved, let’s get you home. We can stay at the farm tonight. You need sleep,” Damian said worried. You looked at him distracted.

“They’re just kids.”

“Come on. Let’s go. Kon is going to stay there too. Just for the night,” Damian said helping you up. Kon flew you both back to the farm.

“I’m going back to help. You okay, kid,” Kon asked as Damian inspected the house.

“I’ll be alright. Just help those kids,” you said.

“Yeah, of course,” he said ruffling your head. You rolled your eyes. “But seriously, the way you screamed I thought you were being murdered.”

You stiffened. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Kon knew when to quit. Something he had learned from Tim. He gave you a big hug and flew off towards Metropolis.

“Hey. I made your bed so you can sleep,” Damian said quietly. “And a change of clothes.”

You nodded and went upstairs. Damian helped pull off your shirt and put on a sweater. He looked at the marks around your wrist and red knuckles but didn’t note any more bruises or cuts. You pulled on sweatpants and climbed in small twin bed that Lois kept for guests. The pink and yellow flowery quilt felt warm and comforting on your skin. Damian lay beside you after changing and looked at you seriously.

“What is it,” you asked.

“I was so scared tonight. I have been doing this for years and I’ve never been so worried,” he said softly and you looked down and flushed. If you weren’t so freaking sensitive to Kryptonite this wouldn’t have happened. Damian gently lifted your chin and you looked at him.

“I was scared to lose you,” he said running his thumb across your cheek. “I’m going to drive you absolutely mad because I don’t want to take my eyes off of you.”

“Yeah?” You said with a little smile.

“Uh hm. But first sleep,” he said and your body certainly agreed. You curled into him and rest your head on his chest. His arms held you tightly before rubbing your back. You fell asleep to Damian staring at you. He stared at you all night, not even sleeping when Kon came in a few hours later.

———————————

“I have to know what all that was, Bruce,” you said at the Batcave the next day. “I was in there.”

He looked at you for a minute. “They were experimenting with meta DNA. All of those kids have gifts and they wanted to take you too. There were even plans to inject those kids with your blood to see if it would affect them.”

You shivered a little at the thought. Lex Luthor and his obsession with Kryptonian DNA.

“All the records were burned. Most of the warehouse too. Your brothers were.... thorough. And Clark will be home in a few days,” Bruce added.

“Really?”

“Yes. And he’s furious at Luthor. Probably will call soon. He wanted to let you sleep earlier. We’re just running programs here. Why don’t you and Damian go upstairs,” he suggested.

“Bruce Wayne,” came a stern voice behind you. You turned to see your mother, Lois Lane, looking like she was going to beat up Batman. “You put a tracker in my daughter without her permission?”

“You what?” You said.

“Actually that was Damian. Though I want to point out that it helped save her life,” Bruce added. Lois slapped him soundly across the cheek. Bruce just blinked and rubbed his cheek.

“Damian, you put a tracker in me?” You asked shocked. You’d assumed Jon had heard you or Damian’s detective work brought them to the warehouse. Not an invasive tracker in your body. “What the hell?”

“Well I can explain..”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

The Hard Things

Doing the right thing is never easy. Calum and Freya have a lot going for them. But what happens when fear gets in the way.

Inspired by I Follow Rivers by Marika Hackman and Starting Line by Luke Hemmings.

Calum X Black Female OC.

I cried once writing this. 7.4k words. Angst. Just angst and sarcasm.

@notinthesameguey is personally responsible for this. So blame her.

The Hard Things--Alternative Ending

Masterlist (on semi hiatus)

___________________________________

If Freya were going to be honest, she would admit that the second she saw Calum and his friends walk into the building she knew things were going to be bad. But Freya’s not being honest. Because being honest would almost include admitting just how too easy it was that day. How if those particular sequences of events hadn’t happened that specifically, then she wouldn’t be here--trying not to watch the quiver in his chin or the way he blinks rapidly. Then she wouldn’t be trying to forget the way his voice quakes.

But they did happen in that particular order. On a Thursday afternoon, he and his friends walked through the door. And here, here at this part, it’s easy to be honest.

Honestly, she is staring--way too hard and way too long at the rag-tag gaggle of people, but especially the man pulling up the rear of the group with a bright red hat snug on his head and covering his eyes, though not even the brim can hide the plump full lips pulled up into a tiny grin at something that must’ve been said. Because another guy, this one fairer-skinned in a hat too and a baggy t-shirt is also laughing. And of course, this group would enter just as Tre stepped away to check on the lanes already throwing. Vanessa wasn’t too far from the desk, but she was trying to help some parents figure out when they could schedule an event for someone’s birthday in the coming weeks.

This only leaves Freya as the only person available right now until rounds were completed to handle any new patrons. With a glance down to the clock on the computer, she could see that a couple more folks would be coming back to the front at any point. But clearly, that point wouldn’t come quick enough.

“Hi,” Freya greets flicking her gaze back up to the group with a quick smile. It’s the training. The fact that more than once she’d been told that customers liked her, especially the way she gave instructions but she needed to smile more. And if this weren’t the job keeping her afloat during her time of getting her degree, in addition to the administrative desk work she did at the university, she would leave here in a heartbeat. Possibly even in the blink of an eye. Whichever was faster.

“Hey! We were hoping you had a couple of lanes for us.”

Freya counts the head. “Just you seven?”

The guy that spoke initially turns the man in the back with the bright red hat on. “Still no word from her?”

The guy shrugs. “Don’t sweat it.” And Freya clings to every syllable. The almost sleepy drawl to his voice lined with a twinge of an accent. She can’t place it at first. But all of them share slight variations in it. The man in the red hat’s voice is low but smooth.

“Yeah just the seven of us,” a taller man pipes in.

“Okay, we can only have two people throwing on a lane at a time. I can put you on neighboring ones but we’ve got very strict rules about how many people can throw at a time.”

There’s a murmur amongst the group but eventually, it comes back to Freya that they’re okay with it. She runs down the safety rules, the forms they have to form out, and checks their IDs. She notices the man with the red hat’s name is Calum and though she knows she shouldn’t, she tries to commit it to memory. It won’t last long. She forgets names all too fast, but she never forgets a face.

“Nessa, watch the desk for me!” Freya calls out as she collects the cases with the axes and directs the party to their lanes. There’s a table for convening and a separate for the axes to rest. “Alright,” she starts with a quick whistle to settle the group. They get chatty but are quick to turn their attention back to her. “I don’t want to kick anyone out, but I will. So one last recap of the rules.”

When Freya finishes, she has the entire group repeat the rules back to her. When they return it to her all correctly, she smiles. “I appreciate y’all already. There are several range officers. They monitor carefully from several posts,” and she points them out as she speaks. “The shift rotates out in an hour. Meaning you’ll have to pause let the old shift go and let the new shift jump in. You’ll hear beeps to signal you to stop and start. If you have any other questions or concerns, you can find me at the front or a range officer. And we’ll be happy to help. Let’s keep all fingers, toes, extremities, and eyeballs intact and we can have a great day together. Enjoy.”

Usually, in her safety spills and best way to throw, Freya makes sure to keep eye contact with everyone in the group. However, she places a purposeful gaze on Calum when she tells them to enjoy. It’s reckless--she knows that. A little flirting hasn’t hurt her. Besides, she knows the moment she walks away, he’ll forget about her. They always did and she likes it like that. Flirty enough to keep good reviews, but never too flirty to insinuate anything more.

In her departure, Freya feels eyes on her, lasting longer than usual. And maybe she put more emphasis behind the swish of her hips and maybe she hoped it was Calum watching her walk away. But she doesn’t dare turn around. No matter how much she hopes in a fleeting second that maybe she had flirted just a little too much, Freya does not turn around to confirm or deny anything.

Back at the front desk, Freya takes a look at the cameras. Anyone at the front can see the lanes too--it’s for safety when you have live blades. Her gaze travels over each one though just out of the corner of her eye she catches the bright red hat. A few guys clasp him on the back but she can’t hear whatever else is said. The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly. As people leave, few come in to replace them. The weekend will be busier--it always in. And Freya knows that soon too, once the afternoon becomes evening things will pick up just a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Everything okay?”

Freya barely sees who it is talking before they’re out of the door. Calum, phone pressed to his ear. She watches him for a beat as he paces near the front windows of the establishment. Her gaze doesn’t linger long before something on the floor catches her eye. She sees it’s black and square. When she gets closer it looks like a wallet. Clearly used and loved by the creases in it. She glances back up to Calum to see him still on the phone and peeks at the ID just to make sure who it belongs to.

With the blank stare of Calum’s ID photo looking up at her, Freya takes it back behind the desk. She’ll wait until he gets off the phone. A minute or two later, the door chimes again with Calum reentering.

“Hey, you dropped this,” she calls out, stepping out from the desk to hold out the wallet.

Calum pats his pockets and a split second panic causes his eyes to go wide. “Oh shit, thanks. I-I didn’t even realize it fell out of my pocket.”

“No worries. Just glad to get it back to you.” Calum takes it and slips it into his pocket, hands patting the outside to make doubly sure it’s secure. “You guys doing okay back there?

“Yeah, we’re good. Though I think somehow the girls are kicking our asses.”

Freya smiles with a small tuft of laughter escaping her. “It’s power and finesse. You can tear down brick buildings but if you don’t get the release right so it’s not twirling over the axis too many times, you’ll come up with nothing.”

“So says the expert?”

Her cheeks heat for a second at the raised eyebrow Calum gives her. Running her tongue over her teeth to hide the smile, Freya nods. “Yeah, I’ve thrown an axe or two in my lifetime. So I guess that counts as me being an expert.”

Calum laughs. Whether it’s at her or not, Freya’s not sure. But she likes the sound of it. “Tell me what else the expert suggests.”

A moment passes where Freya’s watching his gaze. Wondering if an anime glint will twinkle over his brown eyes because it’s a smooth delivery. Smoother than some of the stuff she’s done. There’s no way he’s fucking real.

Freya takes a half step back, slipping through the threshold that separates the front desk from the main lobby and the hallway to the back where the lanes are set up. “This expert suggests that you try her advice and impress all your friends.”

“More finesse. In the wrist, right?”

“In the wrist.”

A shy smile is shared between the two of them. It borders telling everything and saying nothing at all, borders on giving away on how much Calum might’ve considered concocting a ruse just to get her attention and how much he did backtrack on his plan because it was his sister calling and that shocked him. The smile borders on Freya twirling the Havana twists around her finger and her rolling her eyes at Calum’s thinly veiled attempts at flirting.

Both of them are saved by the front door chiming and Freya gives a nod to Calum before turning her attention to the person now entering. But Calum watches the way she leans into the counter and smiles down at the small child standing next to their parent. “Oh my god, you’re getting so big,” Freya comments and then walks back around to settle next to them.

“No, Fre, I’m not bigger dan yesterday,” the kid responds.

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Your dad will be out in just a second. Shift change had to wait for one more person. Anything cool happen at school today?”

Calum leaves then, though he can catch the small boy gush about the races he won at recess. It’s probably crazy of him to try and find some sort of way to come back here again soon, but Calum’s already trying to put together an excuse.

When Calum heads back to the front with the group, laughing at Michael’s utter disgust at the way the last few throws went, he does look for Freya. A girl with red hair is sitting at the desk instead. And though a little bit of disappoints settles into his stomach because he wanted to tell her how well her advice worked, he finds himself resolved and it wouldn’t be broken.

******

Calum told himself whatever Freya had to say during this talk wouldn’t break him. Hell, if he were honest, he didn’t think it would go like this. “You know, I used to say I was no good for people all the time,” Calum laughs. He sniffs hard and wipes his noses on the back of his nose. “It was a clean get-away line.”

“I’m not giving you a get-away line. I’m giving you the truth,” Freya returns.

“No, I’m-I’m not saying you’re giving me bullshit. You’re setting a boundary and a good one at that. I respect it. I’m just saying the irony. The same thing I used to tell others is coming back my way.”

“Karma’s a bitch.”

“I don’t regret it.” Calum shakes his head, not because he’s lying. But to emphasize his point.

*****

Calum doesn’t regret going to the Yelp, Facebook, or Instagram page of the business to see if she had liked it or appeared anywhere on their social media. And luck would have it, he manages to find her. The owners like to show off their employees. Their preferred form of employee appreciation appears, in Calum’s investigation, to be a quick bio of new employees along with a video of them throwing. He nearly misses Freya’s post because of his quick scrolls. The bottom of the page comes up quicker than the app could handle and just as the new page loads that he notices it. The thick twists and black lipstick sitting on her cool dark brown skin.

He doesn’t regret it when he followed the account that was tagged, or the message he sent her from his finsta, or the messages they exchanged for a few days. And he for damn sure can’t find himself to regret it when he came back to the place a couple of weeks later to see if Freya was working.

There’s no regret when she smiles at him and laughs. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to test your theory yet again. It worked last time. But I want to make sure that it wasn’t beginner’s luck.”

“You doubt me. You dare doubt me? I’m offended.”

Calum laughs briefly as he leans into the counter of the front desk. “It’s more like I’m testing a theory. Making sure the results can be recreated.”

“Oh, I promise you my results are valid.” She reaches out for his ID and every so gently their fingers brush. Calum can’t tell if that’s intentional or not, but it doesn’t the slight shiver that runs down his spine. “So just you today, huh?” Freya continues on, grabbing a clipboard, some forms, and a pen.

“Just me.”

“Rest of your friends scared.” Her gaze falls to the stack she’s gathering, checking something off on the top page and then sliding the ID back to Calum.

“They’d probably laugh at me if they knew I was here.”

“Laugh at you?”

“Tell me--why do you think I’m here?”

A moment passes between them. Though it takes up more like several seconds, time feels froze as Freya studies his face. Calum wants to reach up and readjust his hat out of a nervous habit. He wants to take it back. But more than anything, he wants to know if he has a shot. If it’s worth really pursuing.

“I think you’re here to test a theory. Maybe, just maybe you’re here because of Vanessa too,” she smiles as it says. Like she knows that isn’t the truth but she doesn’t want to give into Calum.

And while it’s not the answer he was hoping for, Calum takes it. She wants to play a game and he can be down for that.

*****

She wants to reach out for his hands. They sit next to each other in the lounge chairs Calum keeps lined around his pool. But Freya thinks twice about it. The bulbs dangle above them casting an amber hue onto the water, a stark contrast to the twilight pressing evening closer to night’s full darkness. Freya does regret it. She regrets not leaving her teasing response just to testing a theory. She knew what Calum was fishing for, what he was hoping to confirm when he came back by himself.

Maybe it was just where she was then. Then she thought she could give more. Now she realizes she can’t. She likes it when she’s dating someone and they can decide on a random Sunday for errand runs. She likes having them around. And not that Calum wouldn’t be around. Tours didn’t happen all the time. But they did run long. And who the hell knows where she’d be in eight months after she graduated. Her life wasn’t stable--she wasn’t tied to the West Coast like Calum was.

Her life was full of variables. Ones that she didn’t really plan on trying to solve until closer to Christmas in the spring right before graduation. And she didn’t want to give Calum any more false hope. It wasn’t set in stone that she’d be staying in LA and it wasn’t set in stone that she could handle the long departures. Calum deserved someone that was more sure of themselves.

“I think having regrets is no good anyway,” Freya says, finally breaking the long silence between them. “Having them doesn’t change what happened anyway.” But that doesn’t change the fact that you still regret this, Freya thinks to herself.

“I used to believe love could overcome any obstacle.”

Freya turns to look to Calum and catches thhe way the stubble on his chin from the few weeks he’s gone without shaving halos just a little in the lights. “Used to? The right person, the right love--”

Calum shakes his head. “Now I think people loving me means that they love themselves and they can tell me what they want or need. No guessing. No games.”

“Still sounds a lot of a hell lot like overcoming obstacles.”

“But it’s not a dream. It’s tangible. It’s not me daydreaming up in the clouds. It’s me--right here. Right now. Knowing seeing what it means more than anything else that all the shit I was thinking of as a kid really needed just to be put on the ground level for me.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“I mean as much as it fucking sucks that you’re telling me no, I know you’re doing it for the right reasons. I-there’s like this thing with me. I watch people. I don’t walk into a room of strangers and become the center of attention. I don’t like people all that much, but I care. You know? I care about the people I put into my life and I want them to do well and succeed. I want what’s best for them. It’s not always easy to want that, but innately, I do, I think. Deep down I want what’s good for people. And maybe love is doing the hard things, you know.”

He pauses. Freya watches the way he drops his head, fingers threading through the curls. She keeps quiet. There’s something more, something deeper to the words. “And you’re doing the hard thing. Whether it’s for me or not is debatable,” Calum continues. “But I think love is doing the hard things.”

“You said that having some space was important to you. And while I understand that, like you do need to be your own person in a relationship--”

“Your reasons or how you want to justify it to yourself for me isn’t something I need. You already said that you know what you expect and like out a relationship and that the touring would be too hard for you. Set boundaries for you. What good does it do to justify it to me?”

“So you know I’m not being an asshole, Calum. For fuck sake.”

“No, no, I-shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant--who are boundaries really for? What do they do?”

“I guess they do protect the person making them. But I’m not trying to be an asshole to you. I swear.”

Calum looks up from the cement of his background lining the pool to the glossy sheen coating Freya’s eyes. They’re black in the settling night. But Calum knows they’re more like a medium brown--dark enough to get lost in them, but when they catch the light just right, they can feel like an enchanting spell sucking him in.

“Freya, you are a sarcastic son of a bitch. But an asshole to those that don’t deserve it, never.”

She sucks on her teeth, swatting at his bicep. “Take that back.”

Calum leans onto his left elbow, closing the gap between them just a little. A smile lifts his lips gently. “Never.”

“We’ve both been burned. Is it bad I didn’t want that again?”

“No. I used to say love is a scam. So I don’t think I’m necessarily the poster boy for relationships.”

“But admit it, you hoped this was the one so you wouldn’t be the odd man out.” His brows furrow at her comment. Freya gives him a soft smile. “Two of the guys are engaged. But all three of them are in a relationship.”

He sighs, gazing dropping from her face. “Maybe I was hoping so. Is it bad of me to want to be in love?”

“No. I told some kids that my boyfriend was Shermar Moore,” Freya admits with a laugh. “I was working at a summer camp and one girl saw his picture on my phone. It was my lockscreen for the longest time. So I just went with it. Well, I was spurred in part because of Drew who was a fucking creep and wouldn’t leave me alone. But I did fantasize about it. Dream of being in love with some famous and the limelight. Shit at that point, I hadn’t even dated anyone either. So another part of it was a desire too.”

“Is that part of it too? Worried about what trolls and whatever will say?”

“Oh, no one who doesn’t know shit about it can make me get outside myself.” Freya laughs but reclines into the cushions of the chair. “But maybe it’s a little bit of it. That’s too many voices talking all about you. It’s a lot of noise and some of it has to bleed through you know. Even if you’re careful and you work not to take it in, some does, right?”

“I don’t think humans were created to be able to handle that much criticism or even love and adoration. Our brains can’t handle it. So yeah, a little bit seeps in. But you keep that door closed as much as you can. You talk to people that also get it. Fuck, you even get a therapist.”

“Or a dog,” Freya says before turning her head to watch Duke laying inside next to the back door.

“And a dog,” Calum corrects.

“Excuse me, you get a therapist and a dog.”

“Tell me something.”

“I’m listening,” Freya returns, looking back to Calum.

“Before you go tonight, tell me the thing you’re going to cherish between us.”

“Will you do the same?” Calum nods at the question but doesn’t respond verbally as he gazes at her.

“Do you want to answer now?”

“Are you leaving now?”

“I-I didn’t think you wanted me to stay.”

“I want you to stay as long as you feel comfortable. And then when you leave, the parting thing we have is the good, the best of us.”

“What if I stay until dawn?”

“Then you stay until dawn. Though, I think it’s safe to say both of us will pass out by 3 AM.”

“That was the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve ever done,” Freya laughs. Remembering the same she spent a Friday night after a shift at Calum’s place. He had a birthday party on Saturday along with a vet appointment with Duke. And then Sunday, Freya had we weekly lunch with her friends that she couldn’t miss. So Calum asked her if she wanted dinner Friday night at his place. Which she said yes to, but then it turned into them doing a movie marathon. Which then turned into Calum betting her that he could stay up longer than her. But they ultimately passed out around 3 in the morning on Calum’s couch.

“Thankfully, I did not miss Duke’s vet appointment that time,” Calum tacks on.

“Yeah, no thanks to me waking you up half an hour before it.”

“That darlin’ is what I call details.”

“No, I call that a very important fact,” Freya defends sitting up. “Duke would’ve been late twice if not for me.”

Calum giggles at her incredulous look. She always got heated fast, though she knew when it was serious things and when it wasn’t. “It wasn’t him paying for the visit.”

“So you ought to kiss the ground I’m standing on right now because you didn’t have to pay anything like a cancellation fee.”

“You’re not standing on any ground right-” the sentence doesn’t get the wind to complete itself when Calum watches her stand up. “Or maybe you are standing up.”

Freya hears him, but she gazes up to the sky. Trying to look past the twinkle of his backyard lights. There’s not much to see due to the light pollution. But the sounds capture her attention next. His neighborhood’s almost been mostly quiet. But with the twinge of the summer’s heat fading, Freya can hear the last bit of people outside. A dog barks into the night and there’s the crunch only tires on gravel and asphalt can give. There’s a hum in the night that Freya can feel in her bones.

It’s hard not to fall in love with the sounds of the night. It’s hard not to romanticize this, how possibly if things were different she could find herself at some point always standing in the middle of this backyard listening to the sounds of the night, having Calum beside her or maybe Duke when he’s gone and just letting herself go to the buzz. In all honesty, Freya craved stability. Always having something to come back was her dream. But in that dream it was a partner who would be there for every dinner. A shared space that was full with both of their presences.

“When you think about coming home what’s there?” Freya asks. “Like, in ten years, what’s in your home when you walk inside?”

Calum closes his eyes, bringing the picture to his mind’s eye. “Like, the truth of what I see?”

“The truth,” Freya confirms.

“Two kids, a dog for sure. Maybe two. A wife. A lot of laughs. Being knocked over with hugs. Maybe a movie that hasn’t quite been paused catches my ears. Maybe it’s summer and my mum’s over too. Because she wants to be around the kids as much as possible. And my sister--she comes over when she can too. So we have to figure out what to cook because it’s a family dinner night. I’m mostly likely in Australia. But I could be somewhere else. Just not LA. I don’t think I could have kids here.”

“That sounds lovely, Calum.”

“But I am scared. My parents divorced. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“That wasn’t your fault. And if we heal from our trauma before having kids then maybe some of our fears won’t come to reality.”

“And if it does.”

“Then we know the boogeyman is real and sometimes we can do our best but things that are meant to happen will still happen.”

“Your parents are divorced too, right?” Calum remembers her mentioning a distinction between her mother’s house and her father’s house. But she hadn’t outright stated that her parents were divorced, just alluded to it.

“Yeah. My dad remarried. He seems happy.”

“What about you? If you closed your eyes and thought about yourself in 10 years, where are you?”

“I technically asked what do you see in your home when you walk inside 10 years from now.”

“Oh, come off it,” Calum laughs, throwing a dismissive wave her way.

“But,” she giggles and then closes her eyes. The breeze blows across her face and she lifts her chin up to catch as much of it as she can. Then she speaks, “I don’t know. Home’s full of the people I love. And I feel stable. I’m not worried about what I’m going to do weeks from now when something inevitably has to change. Because nothing’s going to change. Or at least, I’m not anticipating change. I think that’s what I’m sick of. I’m sick of dealing with change and constantly moving around and not knowing what the next year is going to look like. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder and planning. I just want to be still.”

“You did the whole back and forth between houses, huh?”

“Yeah. I always felt like I was playing two versions of myself when I was younger. I had to be one way around my mother and one way around my father and according to my therapist, the constant games of charade fucked me up a little.”

“How often did you go between their houses?”

“Every weekend.”

Calum sucks in air through his teeth, “Yikes. Yeah, no wonder you want stability.”

“Oh, thank you Dr. Hood. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well this is a question so it’s not something you don’t know, but is the thought of me being gone for months at a time remind you of that? Like, you’d have to be one way while I was here and then another way when I was gone?”

Freya shrugs. But it’s right on the nose. “I’d have to learn to be with you and then be without you. And all I have are switches. No dimmers. I’m either on or I’m off. And I-I’m working on it. But I’ve got a long way to go.”

Calum scoffs, whispering mostly to himself. “All I have are switches. No dimmers.” It’s not a taunt to her. It’s not him blowing her concern off. It’s recognition that colors his tone. It’s the sigh when hearing something that connects so deeply it takes all the oxygen from lungs with it.

“And I swear to Christ, Calum, if you make a Lowe’s or Home Depot joke, I will extract your ankles from you right here right now.”

“Extract? What the hell?” Calum laughs.

“Broken ankles heal,” Freya returns with a smirk. Her face is lit mostly from above due to continued standing position but Calum catches the way her lips move.

“Remind me to really never piss you off. Between your ability to throw axes and the time you told me about putting ham on a girl’s car, I don’t think I want that kind of trouble in my life.”

“I only put the ham on the car because my friend was heartbroken and she was a cunt for cheating.”

“Yeah, see that’s what I mean,” Calum points out, his index finger swirling in a circle in front of her.

“I could’ve slashed her tires too.”

“I think ruining her paint job was more than enough.”

Freya places her hands on her hips, looking down at Calum. “I’ve got some anger issues too. Did I mention that?”

They laugh but Calum recovers first to speak. “I hadn’t noticed it before. Thank you for telling me that. But in all seriousness, Freya, the boundaries you have make sense. I hope you continue with therapy as well,” he states with a giggle. “But it’s not easy to look back at yourself and realize ‘Oh shit, maybe I don’t want that thing again because that actually fucking hurt’. And do something about it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“Thanks, Calum. And I will continue with this therapist for the rest of the school year because it’s free. Shoutout to some universities for having really accessible mental health resources.”

Freya finally sits, facing Calum. He keeps his gaze averted. But it doesn’t bother her. “What’s the intention behind telling me I can stay as long as I want? Is it to get me to change my mind? Just earlier both of us were near tears and now we’re walking down memory lane. Sharing things we hadn’t shared yet.”

“I want as much of you as I can get before you’re gone. Selfish, right?” The tears are back, she can hear them in his voice.

“No. A bit of your masochism showing, certainly.”

“You ever know something’s bad for you, but you want it anyway? You want the pain anyway?”

“I mean considering both of us are littered tattoos, pain’s not something we’re too worried about.”

Calum wishes he didn’t laugh, not even the short burst of laughter. “Someone’s coping with humor.”

“Someone’s self flagellating.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want you to go. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself either.”

“Maybe love is doing the hard things. You said that yourself.”

Calum swallows hard and his voice only comes out in a whisper. “I know I did.”

Freya blinks away the blur of tears. But as soon as they clear, more replace them. Her voice is tight as she speaks. “Doing the hard things suck though. Don’t think this is easy.”

“It’s because it’s the hard thing,” Calum returns. He wants to smile and manages to get a small one but he knows. Freya’s going to leave. She won’t stay.

“My favorite thing,” she starts and Calum exhales hard. There it is--the confirmation. The sentence gets caught in her throat so she pauses to clear it, work the tears down to at least speak. God, why couldn’t it have been easy. “My favorite thing between us, about us, whatever you want to label it as, is that we could also be honest. And even if it was burning waffles or ducking paps to watch a movie for an anime that you had no idea anything about because I wanted to go desperately and you had to Google a summary during the previews, we were always honest with each other.”

“I want to put it out there that you only told me that it was for an anime as I was buying the tickets. So I had zero time to prepare beforehand.”

“I told you the name of it the Monday before we saw it.”

“And admittedly, I forget it the second after you said it.”

“Fair enough, Calum. Fair enough.”

Calum spins in the chair and takes her hand. The first time they’ve touched today. Normally, Freya was more than happy to give out hugs but when Calum opened the front door, she have a half smile and stepped inside. If he could go back to earlier, he’d tell himself that was the first sign.

His thumb passes gently over the butterfly on her left hand. “The thing I’m going to cherish is that you made me feel sixteen again. My entire life changed at sixteen and I felt pretty invincible. I was also scared and excited. I was going to be in a band, like a one with lots of records and I don’t know--I only had that dream to believe in because I damn sure did not have a back up. It was before the downs. And I don’t regret the hard times either. But you’re the first person in a long time that gave me those butterflies. Assumed I was just never going to feel them again and I wasn’t a good person before, not as good as I could’ve been. But you gave me something to be good for again. Getting your text made my whole fucking day. And you-god, you cared about so many things. I bought books you recommended and couldn’t wait to talk about them with you. I remembered the kind of person I want to be. So thank you. For making me feel sixteen again in the cheesiest way possible but also in the best way possible too. That things are worth giving a shit for and that we can let people in and it won’t always burn.”

“Just a little sting.”

Calum nods. “Just a little sting.”

Freya brings his hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the right one. Her sniffle is loud amongst the hum of the night. “If it weren’t for the fact that my eyeliner is tattooed to my face it would probably be running. I’m sorry it has to hurt at all. But-but I’m hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Hopeful that we’ll get what we need out of life.”

He nods again, watching the tears track down her cheek. “We will.”

Her hands gently slip back out of his grasp and she uses the back of her wrist to press under her nose. The tremors shake her hands, so she shakes them before standing. Calum cranes his neck up, words about to fall from his lips. But she cups his cheek and smiles at him. “Don’t. There’s nothing else to say.”

It happens just as he blinks. He sighs, eyes closing to steel himself. Because there’s always so much else to say. And then her lips are pressing to his forehead. It last long enough for Calum to take hold of her thighs instinctively want to pull her in closer to him.

Then she’s gone. His hand slides down the rough denim and Freya’s walking to the edge of the backdoor. Duke picks up his head but doesn’t move much else. “Oh yeah, you don’t need to move. You know everyone comes to you, huh?” She gives him a few pats and scratches. “I’ll send you something for your adoption day, okay, love? And you might hate wearing it or you might love eating it. But be on the lookout for the mailman. He’ll have something from me.”

Calum doesn’t say anything as she says her goodbyes to Duke. She kisses the top of his head too and he thinks she might’ve whispered something else but he’s not certain from his spot on the chair. The swish of the tassels on Freya’s jeans signal her and the click of her heeled boots tell Calum she’s walking farther from him. The latch in the fence clicks and the wood around the hinges creak as she presses into the door. There’s a soft thud as the door shuts and then Calum can’t hear anything over the cough he uses to try and cover the tightness in his chest, can’t see anything in the blurry vision of his tears

She’s just gone.

******

When the front door bell sounds, Calum doesn’t think much of it. It could be a package or someone selling something. So he pushes up from the kitchen table and heads to the door. There on his porch is a light blue box with white bones on it. The subscription box that Calum gets already came. But then he notices an index card with a handwritten address on it. He picks it up. Right there in the return address is Freya’s name. He sucks in a breath and then looks to see who it’s addressed to: Duke Hood + Calum.

“Duke,” Calum calls out, stepping back inside to the house. He closes the door with his foot. The click of paws let him know the old man’s heard his call. “A little early birthday present has arrived just for you.”

He walks deeper into the living room and sets the box on the coffee table. Inside holds an olive green harness, treats, and a card. Calum laughs as Duke presses his snout against the bag of treats. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

Duke happily munches on one of the chews from the bag and Calum opens the card. A different letter slips out into his lap. He can see the ink and lettering pressing through to the other side. His heart hammers, but he forces himself to turn back to the card. “Dear Duke,” Calum pauses to see if Duke responds but his investigation continues on the treat. “I mean, fair enough.” Calum continues to read the card written by Freya, “Even though only the universe knows your true birthday, this card, harness, and bag of treats is meant to mark you sticking it out with your pops for yet another year. To spare you the grumps about a very cute hawaiin shirt I, instead, got a badass harness. Now you’ll be the coolest guy on the block. Happy Birthday/Adoption Day. With Love, Fre.”

Duke, done with the treat, looks to Calum and settles next in front of his folded legs. “Oh, so much work eating a treat.”

But Calum reaches down to gently pats at his tummy. The front of the car is cute, Calum finally recognizes. A cartoon white dog is drawn on it with large pink glasses against a yellow background. There’s no telling where she found it at. Calum looks down to the handwritten letter on printer paper. What would Freya possibly have to say?

Calum hadn’t had the guts to press send on any of the texts he drafted in the three months since they last talked. He wasn’t sure if he could. He is sure that if Freya hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, she would’ve said so, and she wouln’t have sent this box for Duke. His fingers tremble as he unfolds the letter.

Calum,

I figured you heard me tell Duke he was going to get a gift. And I knew I couldn’t not deliver on my promise to him. But I do apologize if it crosses any line. Please let me know too--if it crossed any boundaries.

I hope you’re well. Congrats on the latest album too.

With Love,

Freya.

P.S. I saw you a couple times drafting a text to me but never seeing one go through. And if you’re asking why I hadn’t sent a text either, know it was fear too. And me not being sure if keeping it open like that between us would only do more harm than good. So I’m sorry. But I am here, in the sense that to the best of my capacities, I can try to be here.

*****

Her bag’s slipping off her shoulders but she finally gets the key into the lock and gets her front door open. She sighs as she falls into the ugly blue apartment door and all but flings herself into her place. The stack of mail in her hands barely makes it to the edge of the kitchen counter too. It was just one of those days and Freya couldn’t be mad at herself. Everyone had days like this.

Putting her keys up and getting her backpack next to the couch, she settles into the stools at the kitchen counter to sort through the mail. One’s a bill from the dentist she visited a few weeks back. The one thing her student health insurance didn’t cover. But she couldn’t complain.

There are few junk flyers that she immediately tosses. And it’s her name scrawled in a almost all caps that catches her eyes before she even gets finished with the rest of the pile. In the top corner for the return address she catches the name: Calum Hood + Duke

“Mail from Duke, what a surprise.”

But the real surprise is Calum’s name. It’s just a plain white envelope with a stamp and the city mark it was mailed from. Freya pops it open and sees a sheet of legal pad paper folded up.

Freya,

Thank you for Duke’s gift. The chews are a hit. The harness is much appreciated for our walks. Though, I think they’re more like walks for me. And Duke gets a little exercise in before he tuckers out. But I don’t fault him. No lines were crossed. So no need to worry about that.

I think I like the idea of mailing letters more than I do like texting. But I understand. Doing the hard thing sucks. It always has and always will. Do what you need to for yourself.

Thank you. I wouldn’t normally do this. But there’s a couple songs--they’re about you. I wanted to give you a warning before you listen to it. If you listen to it, I guess I should say.

Best of luck with your last year of school. You’ll have that Master’s in no time and then maybe soon you can take over the Library of Congress like all your evil plans have laid out. (I know, I know. Not what your Library Studies degree does. But I still think you should.)

With Love,

Cal

Freya chuckles at the Library of Congress comment. She picks up her phone and finds Calum’s thread. It’s easy to want to tell him that she can’t take over the Library of Congress and that she’s glad the treats went over well and that the harness was really more of an accessory to make sure Duke looks like a badass.

But she knows--she knows the ease got her into a pickle before. It’s why she stopped things before they got more serious. But was fear going to always predict what she was going to do in her life? Maybe the ease of things was a sign to continue. But if what if things got too far? WOuld be able to handle Calum being gone? Would she inevitably get her heart broken? And sure no amount of contemplation can predict things like this, but she did want to play with that risk no matter how fucking easy it was in the moment.

With a frustrated sigh, Freya drops her face into the forearms. Her phone is still in her grip with the movement. “It’s never fucking easy is it!” she shouts into her apartment.

There’s silence that engulfs her but it gives no response.

[fictionalabyss]

Protector : Hope.

Pairing : Dean x Reader, Sam, Brady, Alex (oc), Detective Baker (mentioned)

Word count :   1,764

Warnings : Prison life : Solitary confinement (mentioned), fear, anxiety, hope. Series TW : Domestic Abuse is a constant topic- be it mentioned, or actually happening.

Continuation of this series was commissioned by : @iflostreturntosteverogers

Part 21 of Protector.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

“Here.” Sam places a mug of coffee on the coffee table in front of Brady.

“Thanks.” He smiled up and watched as Sam sits on the arm of the couch next to you, arms crossing over his chest. “I spoke with Dean’s lawyer.”

“And?”

“Dean’s in solitary, again.”

Your face fell at that. You knew, part of you knew, you hadn’t heard from him in almost a week when he normally called at least every other day, but now it was confirmed. He’d done something stupid and got himself locked up even farther away from you. “What did he do?”

“Another fight. Says Dean looks rough, but the other guy had to be hospitalized.”

“Jesus, Dean.” you muttered looking down with a pout.

“But, Dean’s lawyer had got the PO box number from him, we’re looking into who owns it. Might take a bit.” You gave him a small nod, never really looking back up at him. “How are you holding up?”

When you didn’t answer, Sam did. “She’s having nightmares.” Brady looked from Sam to you again.

“Like Alex was having?” Sam nodded. “Maybe you should join him in therapy.”

“I just need Dean home.” you looked up at Brady, pleading with him.

“We’re working on it.” He saw how your eyebrows went up a bit at that. “I offered my services, so I’ll be sticking around a bit. Is it safe to say you didn’t speak to police after the grocery store incident?” You gave him a small nod. “Okay, I’m going to need you to write out a statement of what happened, and how you know this guy to be tied to Baker. I’m going to file it.”

“Okay.”

Brady opened his briefcase and pulled out some papers. Sam sat watching as Brady explained how to fill them out. Once he was done, he handed you a pen before sitting back and sipping at his coffee. Then he looked at Sam. “How’s Alex?”

“Worried.” Sam answered. “Scared to leave the house in case she needs him.” Sam glanced at you and Brady followed his gaze. Both of them watched you as you started writing.

“This asshole shown up since?”

“Not that I know of.” Sam answered. “But every once in a while, there’s a dark grey car parked two doors down across the street. Just sits there for a while before driving off. Don’t know if it’s this asshole or-”

“Baker.” Brady nods, turning to look out the large living room window. “That car over there?”

Sam gets up from where he’s sat, taking a step forward as he leans to look out. “Yeah, actually.” And as if the driver knows he’s being watched, the car takes off.

“Huh..” Brady turns back to his coffee taking another mouthful. “Might need to step up security.”

“Already did. Alex gets an escort now, I barely leave the house, and Dad has a rotation going of people driving past or stopping in. Random times, no patterns.”

“Good.”

“Brady?” When he looks to you, he finds you looking up at him, pen stopped mid sentence. “Do you know when he’ll get out of solitary?”

Brady shrugged. “A few more days, I think. I’m not sure.” Pain and sadness filled your eyes before you looked back down and got back to writing. “He’ll call as soon as he’s out and able, you know he will.”

“I know.”

“More coffee?” Sam asked.

Brady looked down at his half empty mug, the liquid inside quickly going lukewarm. Lifting the mug to his lips once more, he downed the last of it and handed it off to Sam with a nod. “Could I trouble you for a little irish cream, too?” Brady half joked.  “It’s gonna be a long day.”

“I’ll see what we’ve got.” Sam smiled.

Brady was quiet as Sam left, then he looked down at the dog sitting at his side and looking up at him. He raised his eyebrow at the dog, and the dog let out a light whine before putting his head on Brady’s leg. “You better not be a drooler.” Brady threatened as he began to pet the dog on the head. When the dog jerked his head back at the sound of Sam returning, Brady groaned at the wet patch on his pants. “Of course you are.”

It took a few weeks, but Brady got you in front of a judge. You and Alex sat in chairs in front of the desk while Sam stood back, closer to the door. Brady stood next to you while another lawyer  sat in a third chair with a foot between him and Alex.  “What is this about, gentlemen.” the judge asked as he settled down and started going through the papers Brady handed off to him.

“You might remember, your honor, many months ago when you granted a restraining order between my client and Detective Baker.”

“I remember.” the judge answered, glancing up at Alex.

“Since then, your honor, Baker has continued to not only harass my clients, but put them in danger.”

“My client hasn’t been anywhere near this kid.” The other lawyer chimed in, gesturing to Alex.

“Near Alex, maybe not. But he has put the family in danger all the same. The day Dean Winchester was arrested-”

“My client made sure to wait until the kid was out of the garage to honor the restraining order and kept everything by the books.” the lawyer rolled his eyes.

“Was he keeping it by the books when he took ‘Azazel’, a known member of Morningstar MC, aside that day and not only informed him that my client is Dean Winchester’s wife, but pointed her out to him? That same Azazel of Morningstar MC who has not only stalked my clients, taking pictures of their home, parking outside of it, but also harassed my client while she was vulnerable, shopping in a grocery store with her young daughter?”

“Your honor, this is all fabricated nonsense. My client is a respected detective, and the only ties he has to any MC is putting members behind bars, like Mr Winchester.-”

“Respected detective?” Brady all but laughed as he began speaking over the other man. “His ex wife begs to differ, your honor. In fact, she has a restraining order against him as well. He has a history of putting women in danger, I have the damn file but I can give her a call!”

“-there is no mention of an 'Azazel' in the arrest reports,” He raised his voice to be heard over Brady. “and I can assure you, my client-”

“We have him on video.” Sam chimes in from behind and the judge glances back to Sam. “I was there, I saw him with Baker, but we also have surveillance from the cameras outside the garage. He was there, he was with Baker.”

“Who are you?” the judge asked him.

“Sam Winchester.” Sam stood tall and firm. “Dean’s brother.”

“He currently resides with my clients, as they no longer feel safe in their own home due to the harassment and threats they’ve received since Baker’s actions during Dean’s arrest.”

“If they’re so unsafe, why not move?” the other lawyer questioned with a scoff of a laugh, his hands going up into the air before falling again.

“Because I’m pregnant and that’s my home.” you snapped at him, shooting him a glare. “Where the fuck else can I go? He’ll find me. I can’t go to the police because Baker is a detective, who’s going to believe me? I don’t know if you know this, your honor, but I’ve dealt with abusive men before. My hu- my first husband, he-” you swallowed, trying not to cry, but a tear escaped all the same. “He hurt us. Bad. And that trauma, it doesn’t go away. It never goes away. And now I have this man, this man I don’t even know, a man I’ve never seen before the day I saw him with Detective Baker, he’s following me around. I’m scared. Where do I go? Who am I supposed to trust? Who’s going to help keep me safe when it's a man with a badge who put me in danger?” Alex reached over and took hold of your hand. “I’m scared for my kids. I’m scared the stress will make me lose this one.” you looked down, running your hand over your stomach. “I’m scared I’ll die simply for who I fell in love with.”

“Do you have the footage?” the judge asked.

“The original, we entered as evidence in Dean Winchester’s arrest case, but I’ve got an authenticated copy right here.” Brady handed over the small disk case.

Without a word, the judge opened the case and put the disk in his computer. It was quiet for a few minutes, and then you could hear faint noises coming from the speakers. You stared down at your hand in Alex’s as you faintly heard Dean speaking.

“Is this the arrest?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“This is Azazel?” he glanced up and Brady nodded. His eyes were back on the screen as you heard yelling start and all hell broke loose. Alex gave your hand a squeeze knowing this was hard for you to hear. Before long, the sound died down to a quiet buzz again. “Is this your detective?” he turned his screen so everyone could see, just beyond the gate, barely in view of the camera, Baker was talking to the man. Then you saw yourself appear and both men turned to you. Baker looked serious while the other man smiled deviously. “Want to tell me again how your client doesn’t know this man?”

“How’d it go today, baby?”

You smiled so bright and happy hearing his voice. “We don’t pay Brady enough.” you laughed into the phone. “You’re going to hear from your lawyer real soon, Dean, but Baker is done. He’s off the case completely and the judge wants a full investigation. Into everything. Even the way your case was handled.”

“That’s good.”

“I know I shouldn’t be getting my hopes up yet, but..” you smiled. “I really hope this means you can come home soon.”

“We’ll see.” You knew he was trying to be realistic but you could hear the hope in his voice. “I miss you, baby.”

“I miss you too, Dean.”

You heard someone call out his name, and Dean was quiet for a second. “Baby, I got to go. Apparently my lawyer’s here to see me.”

“I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, baby. I’ll talk to you later, I promise.”

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[ladyanaconda]

Helluva Dad Vol. 1: Murder Family

"Dad, dad, dad! Wake up, dad!"

Striker grunted as he covered his head with his pillow, but it was no use as the intruder hopped on his bed. "Kiddo, unless there's a wild animal or a homeless drunk inside the house, go away and let me sleep."

"Daaad, you promised that you'd take me along to the living world this time!"

Striker took a peek at the clock on his bedside table. "Not at 5:36 AM, boy. Couldn't you wait until I'm actually awake?"

"What am I supposed to do 'till then?"

"I don't know, use your imagination."

"But dad-" Out of patience, Striker bared his teeth at his son, tail rattling. Jake raised his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving."

Once the door closed shut, Striker went back to sleep… For about thirty seconds, that is, until the door slammed open and Jake jumped into his bed again, screaming in fright and knocking the air out of his father.

"What the fuck, Jake?!" Striker all but shrieked.

"There's a spider in the living room!"

"... What?"

"Spider!"

"And why didn't you squash it?!"

"It's a big spider!"

Striker's eye twitched. With an irritated grunt, he got off the bed, rolled up a porno magazine on his bedside drawer, and stomped his way towards the living room, Jake trailing closely behind.

"I can't believe it, A son of mine is afraid of a tiny, insignificant…" Striker trailed off and stopped in the doorway. A hog-sized hellantula was tearing the couch apart with big, sharp mandibles. "Boy, go get the rifle."

Once the issue with the spider was taken care of, Striker found himself unable to go back to sleep after the fiasco, so he went to the kitchen and poured himself a big cup of black coffee before making breakfast. Thankfully, Blitzo wasn't inside his fridge this time around, though he made a mental note to go get some more groceries.

As he served the fried eggs and wild hog bacon, Jake walked into the kitchen. He was covered in sweat like he had spent an hour lifting five-ton weights. "Dad, wouldn't it have been easier if we cut up the spider's carcass and take it out piece by piece?" he whined.

"And make a bigger mess I'll have to clean up? No, thank you." Striker placed one of the plates in front of his son. Jake frowned.

"Puaj. Tomato."

"Stop complaining and eat, boy. It's good for you."

They are in silence for the first few minutes. Striker would subtly glance in Jake's direction every now and then, smirking internally at the boy's expressions while he begrudgingly ate his vegetables.

"So, ready for today?" he asked casually.

Jake's expression brightened. "How's the living world like? Is it cool? Does it look anything like hell?"

"You could say so. The only difference is that there are humans living there instead of demons."

"Humans? What are those?"

"Well, you've seen the clients at I.M.P, right? They used to be humans during their lifetime. When they died, they came to Hell and became Sinner demons because they did bad things in life. However, some of them have..." Striker toyed with his bacon as he thought of a proper word. "...pending business with someone in the living world. Our job is to finish that business in the client's stead.

"So… The people who go to I.M.P. are dead humans who want to fuck up someone who fucked them up in the living world?"

Striker snapped his fingers. "Bingo. You're getting the hang of it, kid."

"Hey, dad, think I could use the-?"

"No."

"Hey, you didn't let me finish!"

"Sorry, kiddo. I thought you were going to ask if you could use the blessing-tipped rifle." Striker replied, his eyes reflecting off the knife he was using to butter his toast.

Jake laughed nervously. "Speaking of which-"

"No."

"Come on, dad! When will you let me use those?"

"When you're ready, not a second sooner."

"And when will I be ready?"

Striker dropped his fork to place a hand on Jake's shoulder. "We'll both know. Until then, finish your breakfast."

*HB*

"Moxxie, stop shaking. You're gonna shoot our only hellhound!"

"Wow, I feel so loved here."

Striker watched, uninterested, as Moxxie pointed the crossbow with shaking arms at a photo depicting a human family. "If this were real, he'd already been dead."

"You're not helping, Striker," Millie growled before focusing back on Moxxie. "Just take a deep breath, and let it out."

"But it's a family. Under what circumstances would we ever need to kill a human family?"

"Who knows? Maybe if that's what the client wants." Striker said matter-of-factly as he polished his pistol.

Moxxie wasn't convinced. "Maybe like a shitty dad, or a mob family. That's understandable. But to eradicate an entire innocent-seemingly in this instance-upper middle-class family bloodline?"

Loona frowned. "Hey!" You don't know they're innocent! This kid probably sets dogs on fire, maybe this girl gets off bullying Australian kids online, and this guy…"

"That guy definitely watches," Jake added grimly.

"Couldn't have said it better, little guy." Loona shared a fist bump with the impling.

"Exactly! Humans are full of secret nasties. It's why so many of them end up here."

"But-"

Striker had enough. "Allow me, Mildred." he stomped his way to Moxxie and picked him up by the throat. "Look, wimp, guilty and innocent aren't our business. We're assassins, not charity workers. Killing a target," he swiftly aimed his pistol at the photo and fired a clean shot at the woman's face, leaving a hole in its wake. His point made clear, Striker locked gazes with Moxxie, hissing. "Now pick a bloody target before I throw you out the window."

Moxxie fell to the ground with a loud thud. Millie handed him the crossbow again; he aimed the tip of the arrow at the father's face, trying to imagine it was Striker.

"I just think it's a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all."

Blitzo slammed the door open at that precise moment, startling Moxxie into firing the arrow. It bounced all around the room, hitting the computer, making a second hole on the photograph, and striking the bottom of the eel tank. Moxie jumped into Millie's arms while Striker quickly picked Jake up from the eel tank when he noticed it wobbling.

"Daad, I nearly had it!"

Blitzo caught the arrow just before it struck the client's skull. "...our newest client!"

The eel tank fell and shattered, spilling its contents all over the floor. The eels burst into electricity, setting the entirety of the room on fire.

Striker frowned at Jake, who was stunned into silence. "To think that could have been you."

"Damn it, Moxxie! I just bought those eels!"

They were forced to evacuate the building as the firefighters arrived and did their job. Striker was sure that this little incident didn't leave a good impression on the client, but surprisingly she didn't cancel. Guess she really wanted that person 86'd.

"Way to go, jughead," Jake told Moxxie sarcastically as they watched the firefighters carry the eels into their truck.

"Shut up, you little brat," Moxxie murmured.

Millie frowned at him. "Mox, don't talk to Jake like that!"

"He started it!" Striker rolled his eyes. Moxxie is 'supposed to be the adult who shouldn't stomp down to a child's level.

Wait a minute. "Did anyone save the fancy book?"

"You mean our only ticket to the other side?" Luna slipped out the blue, fancy-looking tome from her clothing without bothering to look up from her hellphone. "Yeah, got it."

"And that's why you're my favorite, Loonie!"

"I thought my dad was your favorite." Jake pointed out.

"Who says I can't have two favorite people? Your dad's my favorite employee and Loonie here's my favorite adopted daughter. You get a tweat now!"

Millie drew the chalk pentagram on the nearby wall. The lines glowed an eerie red color as the circle expanded and the area inside transformed into a forest. The portal was open.

"Cool! Can I draw it the next time?"

"Maybe. Let's get this over with."

Striker would never admit it out loud, but he found these trips to the living world… relaxing. The air smelled cleaner, like trees and nature instead of sulfur, ash, and lava-like Wrath. Its landscapes were more varied, prettier, and calm, at least compared to Hell's ecosystems. This place was particularly breathtaking; a wide lake surrounded by forest and mountains with the sun setting, giving the sky reddish colors that reminded Striker of Bombproof's mane.

Jake seemed to be having similar thoughts. The impling was looking all over the place, eyes wide. "Whoah…"

"Hey, hey, hold your horses!" Striker picked his son up by the shirt before he could dart into the woods. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I wanna look around, dad! This place is so neat!"

"It's your first time on the surface, right? Don't worry, Jakey!" Blitzo pulled Jake into a hug. "Just stick close to uncle Blitz and everything will be fine!"

"Sides, you and I got a very important job! We're going to keep an eye on... Well, the house, just in case something goes wrong!"

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Millie, I might be a kid but I'm not stupid."

"Oh, I know you aren't, Jakey." Millie chirped, ruffling the boy's hair.

Blitzo, Striker, and Moxxie silently moved closer to the house and leaned against the wall. The former two peeked through the window. It seemed like a normal-looking household with a mom, dad, and two kids. The target was coming out of the kitchen, platter in both hands.

"That's gotta be her." Blitzo chuckled darkly. "Ready to do your cowboy thing, Striker?"

As he was about to point his rifle, Striker glanced sideways to Moxxie. The cowboy sneered. "Actually, Blitz, this one's far too easy. We should let Moxxie have her."

Moxxie blinked. "Me?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, I don't see another Moxxie around here, do you?"

"He's right, Mox. This one's simple enough for you to handle."

Moxxie's face fell after peering into the house. "It's just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital."

"You snooze, you lose, Mox."

Striker readied his rifle, taking a few steps back to aim. He set his eyes on the blonde human female, licking his lips in anticipation. "I've got you, bitch."

"Wait, are we actually killing a family?" Moxxie asked.

"No, don't be a puss. We're just killing a mother." Striker positioned the rifle as it clicked.

"Yeah, we're ruining a family," Blitzo added cheerily.

"B-But… hold on, hold on. Let's just think about it."

He was pulling the trigger when the rifle was suddenly pushed upwards. The movement made the bullet miss its target by a few inches, hitting a mirror instead.

"Why, you-!" Striker grabbed Moxxie's throat, hissing and rattling his tail.

"What the fuck was that, Moxxie?!" Blitzo snapped. Moxxie seemed to go into a panic attack of sorts, prompting Striker to release him.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, tears in his eyes. "They just seemed so wholesome and happy, I panicked!"

Striker rubbed his temple, murmuring under his breath while Blitzo facepalmed. "Get the fuck over it, you baby dick-!"

PAM!

Striker roared in pain as a bullet blasted through the wall, hitting him in the arm. He gripped the wound as blood scurried out of the wound. Fuck, and on his aiming arm!

"New hole! Scatter!"

"Dad!"

Jake's voice brought Striker out of his daze. The last thing he saw before something struck his head was Millie picking his son up and fleeing the scene. Everything went black afterward.

…

As consciousness returned, Striker felt as if he had been trampled over by a stampede. His head hurt like hell and his wounded arm was no better. He tried to move but found himself unable to. Something was binding his hands behind his torso.

"Striker! Wake up, partner!"

"Wha…? Moxxie?" As his eyes got adjusted to the darkness, Striker realized he was tied up in a bizarre chair, hands tightly bound behind his back. Moxxie was in a similar dilemma on the chair to his right. "What the fuck?!"

"Thank satan you're awake! We're in deep shit!"

"You think?" Striker hissed. "Moxxie, I swear, if those bloody humans don't kill you, I will!"

"Hey, you can't blame me for us getting caught!"

"Oh, really? None of this would be happening if I had hit the target and been done with it! God damn it, Moxxie, I had a clean shot and you made me miss!"

"H-How can you kill a mother and leave orphaned children when you have a kid yourself?!"

"Because that's what we were paid for, for Satan's sake!"

They could have continued to argue if it weren't for the two presences in the room. As they looked around, they saw the two kids from before. He might have confused the little shits with implings if they had horns and red skin; their glowing red eyes and devious sharp grins would make the sadistic smirks of the Princes of Hell look like nervous smiles.

Moxxie chuckled nervously. "Well hello there, little ones. Aren't you cute?"

The children spoke simultaneously in a low, almost inhuman voice. "It's nice to have new critters to play with."

If he didn't know any better, Striker might have thought they were in the Cannibal Colony back in Hell. The entire room was adorned with human heads, limbs, and even organs. The 'food' on the table consisted of a roasted fully-grown man with livers and kidneys as side dishes.

"Moxxie, when we're out of this ordeal, I'm going to fucking pummel you." Striker hissed.

They struggled against the ropes, but the kids had made a surprisingly good job with those knots. They were good enough to impress even Striker himself, and he was an ace when it came to tying up knots. Sadly, there was little he could do with an injured arm and Moxxie's wimpy little arms were hopeless. Striker growled. If only he could reach his knife…

A light outside the window caught his eye. Then a second appeared, then a third, fourth, as if someone was lighting up torches. Striker paled.

"Jake!"

"Millie!"

Both imps shared a concerned glance. The girl pulled out a serrated knife on Moxxie; to Striker's surprise, the wimp pushed the chair backward and fell on top of her. He took advantage of the distraction, using his tail to pull his knife out of his boot and expertly slice through the ropes. Once free, Striker sent the boy flying against the wall with a kick. Moxxie, too, had managed to free himself with the girl's own knife.

Striker tipped his hat with his good arm. "Not bad, wimp."

"Can you move?"

"I'm not limp, it's just a scratch." Striker wrapped his red bandanna around the wound and pulled out his pistol. "Now let's blow a hole through that bitch's skull."

*HB*

Jake had never been so frightened in his entire life. Well, maybe that time when he nearly got eaten by a serpent, but it was different. At least his father had been there to save him. But this time it was him who got hurt and there was nothing Jake could do to help. He tried to save Millie when she got K.O.'d, but he stood no chance against a fully-grown human and was knocked out as well. When he regained consciousness, he found himself tied to a stake in-between Millie and Blitzo.

"Striker had that fucking shot. Goddammit, Moxxie."

The crazy woman was cackling evilly as she held up a torch. "Satan! We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell! May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!"

The torch landed a few feet away from the logs, setting them aflame. The fire rose up around them as Martha laughed maniacally… until she realized they weren't screeching in agony. Blitzo snorted.

"Yeah, that's not exactly how it works, lady. Sorry, your fire doesn't actually hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that'll get your dick hard."

Jake blinked. "She's a dude?"

"Grown-up stuff, kiddo. You should ask your daddy about it."

"Well, I'll just shoot you in your smart ass mouth!" Jake gulped as Martha pulled out a rifle on them.

"That would be more effective."

"Blitzo!"

Jake closed his eyes shut, whimpering as he heard the familiar click on the rifle. There were two gunshots, but he heard no screams from Blitzo, Millie, or his own throat, and no searing pain. Jake opened an eye warily. There were two smoking holes in the sockets where Martha's eyes once were. Her body collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

A few steps back were none other than Moxxie and dad, both holding their pistols.

"Moxxie! Striker!"

"Dad!"

"You're not getting your god damn paycheck for this one, Moxxie!"

As Moxxie untied the ropes, Jake jumped right into his father's embrace, wrapping his arms around his neck. Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie hugged and nuzzled each other affectionately.

"I'm sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm's way. It won't happen again. I promise."

"Apology accepted." Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug, but Striker noticed he was whispering something threatening (apparently), judging by Moxxie's expression.

He waited until Blitzo let go to punch Moxxie with such force that he fell to the ground.

"What the fuck, Striker?!"

"I keep my promises, Mox."

*HB*

Striker wasn't very fond of parties. Frankly, he just wanted to go home, fall to his bed, and sleep, but Jake begged him to stay a little longer to eat cake. After what the boy just went through, he didn't have the heart to say no, so he conceded. Besides, the look on Moxxie's face was fun to look at. He had no idea what put the wimp in such a mood, but he had the feeling it had to do with what remained of the target's bloodline.

"You sure you can ride back home with that arm? I wouldn't like to lose my best shooting asset!" Blitzo protested as he climbed onto Bombproof's saddle, Jake seated in front of him.

"Big deal, it's just a scratch. Nothin' to worry about, Blitz." Striker grabbed the reins with his good arm, the injured one resting on a sling.

Bombproof moved at a slow pace, so it'd take them longer than usual to get home. Millie had once suggested that he and Jake move to Imp City; there was a vacant apartment in the building she and Moxxie lived in and she'd be thrilled at the idea of being neighbors (Moxxie, of course, didn't share the sentiment). Striker regretfully declined the offer (to Moxxie's relief). He was a country person at heart and would rather stay in Wrath. Besides, he wanted his son to experience the ups and downs of rural life.

A loud yawn made him look down. "Tired?"

"No, just resting my eyes," Jake said simply, but the exhaustion in his voice said otherwise. Striker chuckled.

"How about you 'rest yer eyes' for a while, then? I'll wake you up when we get home."

"Really, dad, I'm not tired…" Jake trailed off as he leaned back against his father, resting his chest against his chest.

Striker smiled a bit as he ruffled the boy's hair. "Surely not, kiddo. Surely not."

[morceid]

Snowy Sniffles

💡SPENCER REID X DEREK MORGAN💡

read on ao3

Summary: Derek gets the flu when he and Spencer are snowed in on a case in Colorado.

Word Count:  2k

Category: fluff, slight angst

Content Warnings: swearing, sickness, case details

A/N: enjoy my otp being cute and cuddly for my first day of 12 days of moreid :)

The snowy mountains of Colorado. A serial killer as cold as the air was out there, and It was the job of the BAU to catch him.

The team boarded their plane like normal, occasionally Derek coughed and cleared his throat. Not enough to realize what was happening, but enough to get a “You okay?” from JJ.

There weren’t many hiccups with local police, except for them withholding information about the victims. Derek and Spencer were sent to profile the dump site, JJ and Emily to interview victims' families, while Rossi and Hotch set up at the station.

The dump site was in a clearing next to a mountain frequently used for sledding. A visiting family from Texas was recommended the mountain by a friend and since they weren’t familiar with the area, the mom got lost and they came across the body. Thankfully the kids weren’t there to see it.

Spencer and Derek walked out of the black SUV and ducked under the police tape in their fleece jackets and large boots. 

“The victim was Hannah Gentry. She was a fourteen year old girl who ran away from her abusive father. No sign of sexual assault, but there were signs of restrains on her thighs and around her stomach.” Spencer walked around the area the body had previously been found, searching for anything left behind by the unsub.

“Maybe he thought he was saving these girls. How old were each of the victims?” Derek said, pulling tissues from jacket pocket.

“Ages ranged from 13 to 19. All had someone abusive close to them. You sure you’re okay?”

Before Derek could reply he was coughing and gagging into the torn kleenex in his hand.

“I’ll be fine,” The stuffiness in his nose was apparent in his voice now. “Let’s go back to the station. I’m sure Rossi and Hotch are at the M.E. now.”

The two walked back to the car and headed towards the police station. On the way it started snowing and Spencer said something about growing up in Vegas without snow, and how in Virginia they never really saw the snow fall, they just woke up to it on the ground and in the streets.

Between the snowfall rapidly increasing, the windshield wipers not doing anything to help, and Derek driving in an unfamiliar area, he began having a coughing fit and swerved off the road.

They didn’t get hurt in the accident, just a large rush of adrenaline, but the car wasn’t in the best shape. The engine made a sound that contorted Spencer’s face.

“We should probably check that.”

Derek tried to push his door open but he had driven into a ditch and snow was piled up tp his window. He rolled it down and shoveled some of the snow with his gloved hands. He got the door all the way open with a little wrestling of the handle. The boot of the car was opened and steam was rising from it. Spencer had crawled across the center console and got out from Derek’s side.

“Do you think we could get an officer to pick us up?” Derek sniffled.

“I think the snow is coming down too hard now.” Spencer’s black coat was powdered with snow that he didn’t bother to shake off, knowing it would be back there in an instant.

“I’ll call Hotch.” Derek fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You fell in a ditch? Morgan, this is a very time sensitive case. This guy kills every three days and it’s been the second day since the last body was found. We need you guys here.” Spencer overheard Hotch’s near yells over the phone.

“Okay, dad, calm down there. I’ll call up Garcia to find us the closest hotel and we’ll crash there. Reid says snowing too much for an officer to come pick us up.” It was around 7:30 and the sun was starting to set.

“Alright, we can send someone to get you tomorrow.” Hotch hung up and Derek called Penelope.

“Hey-llo my chocolate thunder! Anything I could do for you?”

Derek coughed a couple of times.

“You okay, Derek?”

“Yeah, uh, me and Reid got stuck in the snow and we can’t get back to the hotel. Are there any near us that we can crash at?”

“You’re in luck, Derek Morgan, There is a motel only a seven minute walk away from you. Anything else?”

“Not right now, baby girl, take care of yourself.”

“So what are we gonna do?” Spencer had begun chewing on his fingernails and pacing in a circle around the car.

“Kid,” Derek took Spencer’s cold hands into his warm, gloved ones. “Stop your worrying. I can see all of those gears in your head going a million miles an hour. Garcia found a motel near us and we can walk there and stay the night until someone can pick us up. We’ll be okay.”

“I know I’m gonna be okay, it’s you I’m worried about, Morgan.” Spencer took his hands out of Derek’s and leaned into the car to grab his bag.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” As if on cue, Derek started having a coughing fit.

“I’m talking about that, Derek. You’re showing signs of getting the flu. Your heart rate has sped up by 39% in the last couple of days. You constantly have a running nose and you won’t stop coughing. I am not getting sick, I cannot afford to get sick, especially on a case, so I hope this motel has two beds.” Spencer pushed away from Derek and began walking.

“Wait!” Derek ran to catch up. “Pretty boy, you’ve already been with me for almost 24 hours. I think you are already infected. Besides, you, my friend, are shivering. Now let me give you one of my coats.”

Spencer slowed his walking and let Derek drape his second jacket over his thin, purple one. Having a crush on your coworker was the worst.

When the pair reached the motel the sun had fully set and they had snow covering their shoulders and resting on their heads. They brushed it off before entering, where they were bombarded with the overwhelming scent of perfume as what could only be presumed as the owner tugged them in with both of her arms. She was short and wore a sparkly pink dress not unlike one Penelope would wear.

“What can I do for you kind fellows today? Did ya crash on the side of the road? Lots of people did tonight. Can I get you a room? Was it your engine? Faulty car?” The woman rambled.

“Um, we fell in a ditch a little bit back. We just need two rooms for the night,” Spencer looked down at her nametag, “Sasha. Thank you.”

“Well, boys, I am sorry to disappoint but we only have one more room for the night. You’re just gonna have to share.”

“Are there at least two beds?” Spencer whined.

“Sorry,” Sasha took Derek’s credit card and punched in the numbers on a computer that looked almost a decade old. “You good there? You look like you could throw up any second?”

“I’m fine, ma’am. Just give us the room key please.” Derek cleared his throat.

“Alrighty, there you go FBI guys.” Sasha handed them the room key labed 7B.

Given the overwhelming personality that brought them in, neither had a chance to look around and profile the front office. When they got to the room they realized just how miserable the stay would be.

The heater seemed to be turned off resulting in the room being colder than the outside. Complementary water bottles on the nightstand had frozen, expanded, and exploded. The pipes in the walls creaked and whined. Derek moved towards the bed, which when he pulled up the sheets, they were stiff and barely moved at his touch. Spencer moved past the bed and to the kitchen, where he found a coffee machine and cups in the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” Derek coughed.

“Making coffee. It’s something to keep me warm.” Spencer still had Derek’s jacket across his shoulders.

“Alright well, you might be right. I think I’m starting to get a fever. I’m gonna hop in the shower. Hopefully it’s just the reverse air conditioning that’s broken.”

Derek’s observations were proven correct as he unexpectedly walked into the spray of a nearly boiling shower. His muscles relaxed as he began thinking about the events of the day. His nose ran more than it had in the cold weather and it reminded him of a moment in the office that happened some while ago, back when Spencer first joined the BAU.

It was a slow day in the bullpen. With Spencer being nearly fresh from college, Derek wasn’t expecting him to take the best care of himself, no one was. Derek looked up, ready to throw Spencer a rolled up note about how bored he was. Instead he was greeted with an empty desk. After asking Hotch where the boy genius was and getting a surprised ‘I don’t know’ in response, he went in search of him. Spencer was found laying on the couch in an empty office. HIs skin was red and burning to the touch. Derek gave him a couple of shakes and he woke up, groaning. Spencer had gotten the flu and didn’t know how to deal with it at work. Not wanting to disappoint Hotch by skipping a day for something so insignificant as a virus, he settled in an office he correctly assumed was vacant. He insisted that he was okay but Derek refused to believe him. He dropped Spencer off at his apartment and immediately knew. He was in love with Spencer Reid. And he wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

When Derek was in the shower for at least 15 minutes Spencer presumed that the shower was warm, so he called Sasha at the front desk from the phone in the room. She wouldn’t be able to get someone to come fix it for another day. He sat on the bed, spreading his arms and legs out in an attempt to warm the sheets. Letting his mind wander, he started asking himself questions. Why did he like Derek? He was just his coworker. Just someone in his life. An attractive person in his life, but just like anyone else in his life. Did Derek know how much he meant to him? Would he ever know? Would he be given the chance to let Derek know that he loved him and wanted to spend his life with the other knowing?

He was taken out of his day dream when Derek came out of the bathroom. Derek was shaking. He wore thick, flannel sweatpants and a grey hoodie, along with his socks, not wanting to leave a single part of his body too exposed.

“Uh, I know you’re super germaphobic and probably want nothing to do with my running nose and sore throat right now, but kid, all of my muscles are aching. Do you mind if I-”

“Not at all.” Spencer wrapped his arms around Derek’s middle as he sank onto the bed.

Derek let out a sigh of relief and settled in Spencer’s arms. It wasn’t long until his breathing evened out and he fell asleep in the lanky man’s arms.

“I think I love you, Derek Morgan.” Spencer whispered.

The next day Hotch called Derek to let him know that they caught the unsub. He was an amateur child groomer who left a hair in his latest victims mouth. An officer picked up the pair from the motel and they boarded the jet. Derek’s flu passed as soon as it came and he was better in the morning. A little cuddling with Spencer was just what the doctor ordered.

“Hey, Spencer.” Derek sat across from him after everyone on the jet had fallen asleep.

“Yes, Derek?” Spencer noted the use of his first name in his head.

“We need to talk about last night.”

“What about it?”

“I heard you, Spencer.”

“Wh-what are you talking about? Heard me say what?”

“Spencer,” Derek put his hand on the other’s knee, “I love you too.”

In a panic, Spencer leaned forward and pecked Derek on the lips.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He stammered.

“It’s okay. We can do that if you want.” Derek leaned back in for a real kiss from Spencer. He still tasted like the cheap hotel coffee.

“We can do anything as long as we’re together.”

TAGLIST: @greenaway-lewis @pretty-b0yy @w0rmpi3 @sunflowrly @fuckshitupm8-deactivated3728 @the-sassy-one @endetit @adhd-lesbian @nobody121113​ @stalinthestripper​

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

Scintilla

Existence in Real Time - Chapter 1

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

A/N: Alright, here’s chapter 1! I’m so excited for you to read it, please let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Peter arrives has a nice talk with Tony on his way to New York, upon his arrival he meets (y/n)

Series Masterlist

Regular Masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Peter had always known the lab was small, he could tell that much from the few times he'd been outside, but he never knew how small until he was in a massive jet hovering above it. In a mere 10 minutes the lab which had been his whole world, was nothing but a tiny speck he could barely see out of a window. It was admittedly overwhelming, but Peter was not going to let anyone know he was feeling even the tiniest bit scared, so he quickly averted his eyes and turned his attention back to Tony while he explained his plan for the next few days. 

"We're going to take you to the Avenger tower back in New York. Now for the first few days we're gonna have to keep you inside and run some tests. I'm sure the last thing you want to do is be locked up again, but try to understand we have to make sure you're not a threat to anyone, and that you're healthy and all that. I promise it won't be more than a week."

"That's okay," Peter fiddled awkwardly with his hands, "I understand."

"Good," Tony nodded in approval, "After that the plan is to set you up in my penthouse. I’ll help you adjust and get used to the rest of the world."

Peter furrowed his brow, "Why?"

"Well because there's a lot more to the world then la-"

"No, I know that. I mean why would you put me up? You helped me get out, you don't owe me anything."

"Because it's the right thing to do." Tony said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, but no one had ever done something for Peter just because it was the right thing to do. "And because the rest of these idiots don't have a paternal bone in their body, they'd get you killed in a week. I however, am already the world's best dad. Well, not that I'm trying to be your dad or anything, I'm sure you get what I mean."

Peter nodded, his eyes wandering back to the window, "You have kids?"

Tony nodded, "I have a daughter your age. I'm sure she'll be there when we get in."

"To see you?"

"Partly, but I told her we might be bringing people home, and she likes to take care of people."

"So you guys went in there for people like me?"

He nodded again, "We got some intelligence that they had been experimenting on humans. You were the only one we found in there though. Do you know of any others?"

"I haven't met any but they've talked about them," a small smile crept onto his lips, "Figures I'd be the only one to get out, I'm always the problematic one."

Tony chuckled, "Well it plays in your favor today. Any idea where the others might be?"

"No. I know some of them get to leave sometimes but I don't know where they go. I just know about me really."

"Right. Spiderboy," he snickered.

Peter shot him a glare, "I'm not a boy, I'm a spiderman at the very least."

Tony kept laughing, "Alright, Spiderman, I've got a few more things to ask you about, but this is gonna be a long flight, so how about something to eat?"

Peter bit the inside of his cheek before nodding, "Yeah, some food would be nice."

"Sure thing, just wait right here," Tony patted his shoulder on his way out, leaving Peter with a few minutes of much needed silence.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It had only taken one glance for Peter to decide that New York City was a thousand times cooler in person than it was in any book or photo. Everything was huge, almost overwhelmingly so, and things only got bigger the closer he got. He found it hard to remove himself from the window when they landed, there were a million different details he was sure he still hadn’t taken in, but Tony had told him the view was better outside, so he’d dashed out of the jet behind him like an excited puppy. He hadn’t lied either, everything felt much closer when he stepped outside.

“Peter,” Tony addressed, forcing the boy to return his eyes in front of him, “This is my daughter, (y/n).”

(y/n) Stark made the whole city look ugly and boring by comparison.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Peter,” he felt a blush spread across his cheeks when she smiled at him.

“Nice to meet you Peter,” she offered her hand, “I’m really excited you’re gonna be staying with us.”

“Me too,” he bit his cheek.

“(y/n), we’re gonna be a few minutes, you wanna take Peter inside?” Tony nodded towards the door.

“Yeah, no problem, I can show you your room and stuff,” she motioned for him to follow her inside, “I made sure you got a good one.”

“Thanks,” he followed behind her, a bundle of nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach with each step.

“You’re welcome,” her smile was big and bright and reminded him of sunshine, “I was gonna make them get some clothes and stuff too but I didn’t know what size you were.”

“That’s okay, I don’t know either,” he laughed awkwardly, “I kind of just get handed the clothes you know?”

“Well when they’re all done with you here I’ll take you shopping, we can figure out your size together,” she glanced over her shoulder, “My guess is a medium.”

“Medium sounds right,” he bit the inside of his cheek, not totally sure what he should say next, “So, uh, what's New York like?”

“It’s absolutely magical, my favorite place in the whole world,” she stopped in front of a metal door, it was reminiscent of the lab, but better somehow, “We’ll have to get your handprint in the system but just like this,” she placed her small hand on the large pad besides the door, “And open sesame.”

“I think I can handle it,” he assured, following her inside, “Woah.”

He was taken back. The room was much bigger than his old one, and amazingly had a window. The lab had windows only on the top floor, and they were tiny and high on the walls, not the kind you could stare out of. 

“Yeah, the one in the penthouse is way better but I hope this is okay, I tried to pick one with a good view,” she was blushing again, “A-And this one has its own bathroom so maybe it’s better than the penthouse.”

“I think this one is great, it’s huge and this view is awesome,” he smiled excitedly to her, “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, I’m really glad you like it,” she moved across the room to a small desk, “I don’t know really much about your situation, but your dad told me you didn’t have access to much entertainment, so you can use this laptop for now. And I mean they’ll be monitoring it while you’re here, but nothings restricted, you can look up whatever you want. You, um, know how to use a computer right?”

He nodded, “Yeah, we were taught about everything, we were just really restricted in what we could and couldn’t do.”

“There were others?”

“Yeah, but I never met them, we were all kept separate, or at least I was.”

“That must have been lonely, I’m really sorry.”

“It was, but I’m out, so, you know,” he shrugged, really he was unsure of what else to say. He wanted to tell her he hoped he’d make friends now, that he wouldn’t be lonely anymore, but he wasn’t sure if that was okay to admit.

“Yeah, and you won’t be lonely anymore,” she smiled but averted her eyes nervously, “You can talk to me and we can be friends and everything.”

Her words brought an involuntary smile to his face, “I’d really like that, but just a warning, I don’t think I’m great at social cues.”

She laughed, letting her eyes find his once more, “Well so far you’re doing great Peter.”

(y/n) Stark was Peter’s first friend, and if you asked Peter, that made him the luckiest person on Earth. Of course, he didn’t know her well yet, but (y/n) seemed kind and it had never been so easy for him to talk to someone. She didn’t make him scared like his handlers did, and she didn’t intimidate him like the Avengers did. He couldn’t say a bad thing about (y/n), she was kind, and comfortable, and she felt safe. She was pretty too, it was the first thing he’d noticed about her, she was pretty and her smile made him feel like all his problems had disappeared.

And they had, because when Peter laid down for bed that night, it was the first time he could ever remember falling asleep with a smile.

next chapter

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[cpd5021]

Birthday

Happy Wednesday!!!!!! One week closer!!! I can’t believe we’re this close, I can’t wait!! This is a short little fic based on the prompt:

 “Hailey's birthday but she hasn't told anyone and then Jay finds out.” 

            The work day starts off like any other, Jay brings Hailey a cup of coffee from her favorite shop, they meet in the parking lot at the district, and they banter all the way up the stairs leading into the bullpen. Except something’s off. There’s a slight edge to Hailey that only Jay picks up on. He tries to question her about it gently, but she brushes him off with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. They settle into their desks, barely having the time to power on their computers, before they catch a case. Hailey perks up at the mention of a long day with a slow case and Jay realizes she’s viewing this as a distraction. From what? He doesn’t know. Jay keeps a watchful eye on her as they head out to begin the investigation, hoping for any indication as to what might be wrong with her. 

     About an hour later, they’re climbing back into his truck, ready to head back to the 21st when Jay catches a glimpse of the somber look in her eyes. She’s done everything in her power today to avoid eye contact with him and he’s beginning to worry. He starts the truck, letting the loud grumble of his engine fill the cab as he decides how to proceed. 

“Ready for some lunch?”

He asks, starting with a light topic and one he figures is safe. She sends him a quick smile but shakes her head no before gluing her eyes out the window in front of her. 

“Not even some Bartoli’s?”

He bribes, hoping to win her over. Once again she shakes her head, not looking at him this time. 

“I’m good Jay.”

And the way she says it has him thinking there’s a double meaning behind it and she’s subtly letting him know not to push it. He nods, letting out a quick sigh as he pulls them out onto the street and heads back toward the district. 

     They settle back into their desks, working away at their individual tasks at hand. The case is proving to be time consuming, something that annoys Jay but seems to make Hailey relax just a little. A few more hours pass before they catch a lead and are headed back out to his truck, Hailey walking slowly behind Jay, hands shoved into her coat pockets and head tucked low against her chest. She climbs in beside him, the silence between them nearly deafening and putting Jay even more on edge. He knows she’ll open up to him eventually, but the wait is killing him. He just wants to help. 

     The pair finishes up at the location, after another two hours has passed and Jay’s stomach is audibly protesting his lack of food today. He doesn’t ask this time and instead points them to a little sandwich shop nearby, one he knows Hailey loves. He parks and jumps out, happy when he notices her doing the same. He orders first, moving along the line until he reaches the cashier, nodding that he’ll get Hailey’s too. Hailey shoots him a look, feigning annoyance with an eye roll as she flashes her membership card in front of him. Of course she has a punch card here, it’s somewhere she frequents. He’s happy for the almost banter the little exchange provides him, seeing just a glimpse of the usual Hailey back even if it’s just a few seconds. He hands the girl behind the counter some cash and Hailey hands the card over. The girl smiles at Jay when she hands him the change and then turns to Hailey with an even bigger smile after she quickly glances at the screen. 

“Happy birthday! Have a good day you guys.”

No sooner do the words leave the girls mouth is Hailey rushing back out the front door, leaving Jay to grab the sandwiches feeling confused. His brain catches up quickly as he puts two and two together, racing out the door behind her. She’s already in the truck when he finally reaches her so he climbs in and passes her bag over. He can tell by the slight flush to her cheeks and the way she’s definitely avoiding looking at him that she’s fighting back some emotions. He decides to let her be, not wanting to push her over the edge, but tucking away the new information he’s just unintentionally learned. Today was Hailey’s birthday. Jay chides himself internally over the fact he didn’t already know this, but resigns to the fact that Hailey isn’t very open about her personal life. They eat in silence before Jay drives them back to the district, both eager to finish out this day. 

    After what feels like the longest day ever, their shift is finally done. Hailey has spent the remainder of the day avoiding him, even going so far as to take Kim with her when she had to go back out to question someone. Jay does his best to let her be, but decides he’s not letting her leave without talking to him. He finds her in the locker room, hurriedly gathering her things from her locker. She jumps when she notices him, something that leaves a slight ache in his heart. He catches a brief glimpse into her eyes again and hates what he sees there. She tries to send him a smile but it falls flat as she attempts to rush past him. He steps out, halting her movements and she lets out a huff of air, eyes still glued to the ground. 

“Wanna grab a beer?”

It’s a peace offering he hopes she’ll accept but she doesn’t. Head tucked even lower, she steps around him, close enough that her shoulder brushes against his chest. He watches her leave and his mouth is speaking before he can stop himself. 

“Happy birthday.”

It’s so quiet it almost comes out as a whisper but she hears him and it stops her in her tracks. He watches as her back stiffens, her shoulders tightening up in an almost defensive manner. She doesn’t move and he instantly regrets saying it as the silence lingers between them. He doesn’t want to be the first to speak, but she makes no attempt to start. She hasn’t moved an inch and if she wasn’t standing he’d be worried if she was even breathing. He takes a step closer, then another, before he’s standing right next to her. Jay looks down at her face, only getting her side profile from his position, but he see’s wetness trailing down her cheek and it freezes him to his core.

“Hey…”

He says softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jumps at the contact and he instantly pulls away. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything..”

He trails off, panic rising within him as more tears travel down her face. 

“It’s not your fault.”

She whispers her reply, her voice coming out hoarse from her held back emotion. She wipes at her face with her sleeve, giving him a sad smile through bloodshot eyes. He tries to smile back but the worry over what she’s going through is too much to handle. She nods towards the door and he grabs his things to quickly follow her. They make it out to his truck and she wordlessly climbs inside, sheltering them from the cool weather and any eavesdroppers that might be lurking in the parking lot. He shuts his door and angles himself to look at her, her frame seeming even more tiny in the dim light of his truck, her eyes still red with tears. 

“I’ll take it you’re not a fan of birthdays?”

He asks lightly when she doesn’t start. Hailey laughs at his statement, but it's a cold one filled with everything but humor. 

“When I was ten, my mom wanted to throw me a special birthday party because she thought it was a significant age. My dad wouldn’t let her invite anyone but she still tried to make the best of it. She spent all day baking this cake and it honestly looked amazing. When it came time for cake, my brother wanted to cut it. My dad was already drunk and his mood was deteriorating quickly. Well my brother came running out of the kitchen with this big knife and my dad flipped, snatched him up and shoved him towards the table I was standing next to. It wasn’t my brother's fault but the knife hit me in the abdomen and of course all hell broke loose.”

She paused for a moment, carefully lifting up her shirt just enough so a tiny scar was visible just above her belt line. Jay wanted to reach out and trace it, to let her know that it was okay, but kept his hands to himself. 

“Then it was somehow my fault for standing there so I got it right after he did. The worst part is I remember the cake getting knocked off the table in the commotion and my mom on the floor crying as she cleaned it up. So yeah, I guess you could say I’m not a fan of birthdays…”

Hailey trailed off, wiping new tears from her face and letting out a nervous chuckle. Jay felt sick hearing her story and the things she went through but was happy she opened up to him. 

“Hailey…”

He started, wanting to apologize for her childhood but she stopped him with a raise of her hand. 

“Don’t say it. I’m okay, I promise. It just sneaks up on me every now and then, even twenty years later.”

She gave him another small smile and he returned it. 

“Well, I say we should go get that Bartoli’s and maybe some dessert afterwards. It’s not every day we crack a case like the one we did today.”

He teased and she laughed wholeheartedly this time. She nodded, wiping her face one more time and then buckling herself into the seat. 

“I suppose that doesn’t sound so bad, as long as you’re going.”

Jay couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at her words.

“Well obviously, my presence is the present.”

Jay winked, pretending to flinch when she punched his arm softly. 

“Shut up.”

Hailey said through a chuckle. Jay started the truck and drove off, hoping to change her mind about birthdays and making a promise to himself that she would never have a bad one again.

[masterweaverx]

So anyway I think that the heroes are going to snatch control of Atlas right out from under Salem and Ironwood’s noses. It’ll take a few episodes, but it’ll happen by V8′s end. Here’s the probably inaccurate spiffy:

Ironwood and Salem are busily playing army and being absolutely ignorant to their own and each other’s underlings thinking maybe they’re in the wrong. So while they think they are controlling the Battle For Atlas (TM), everybody else is going to be trying to save people. Emerald’s going to get to the lamp first(ish).

Emerald: JINN! I must ask you something! Jinn: For reasons related to metaknowledge I like you a lot kid, so I’ll warn you to word your question very carefully. Emerald: Well... shit, give me a minute. Jinn: Time’s frozen, I’m magic like that. Take as long as you need.

Exactly what Emerald asks is up in the air, but it’s probably either ‘what is Salem hiding’ or ‘how can Cinder be freed from Salem’ and either way Jinn will make it clear Emerald needs to get to Ruby, so Emerald shrugs cause she was totally going to jump ship from Salem anyway (woman is dancing murder, literally) and so she waltzes out to pick up Oscar and then they run into JYR.

Yang: You framed me! Emerald: Yeah but I’m good now. See? Saving kids, got the relic-- Ren: I HATH SEEN HER VIBES, AND SHE DOTH BE GOOD NOW. Yang: Wait but how do you know it’s not an illusion? Ren: YOUR VIBES DOTH PROCLAIM AFFECTION FOR THINE PARTNER, OF DEEP AND INTENSE KIND, YET YOU DOUBT YOUR VALUE TO HER-- Yang: Okay okay I believe you! Oscar: Hey I’m kinda bleeding to death can we escape already?

And as they rush out of the whale, there is DRAMA in the Schnee mansion. Ruby’s panicking over Penny, and because Penny came in hot she can’t touch her with her bare hands so she’s getting Weiss to summon up some remote gloves for Emergency Robot Surgery and totally ignoring that pain in her heart. Meanwhile Klein’s patching up Nora--

Nora’s Past: Excuse me, sir, I need to reveal myself now. You don’t mind do you? Klein: This girl is pretty badly hurt, so I do rather mind-- Nora’s Past: Not to worry, I won’t interfere in your healing and you can have a conversation that sets up a future plot point.

And Blake and May are talking about how they robbed people to save people and Blake’s kinda trying to hint maybe that the situation’s pretty bad up here without offending May who is really just this close to exploding.

May: If you can’t give me one good reason to stay I’m taking the jet down to Mantle! Whitley: Jacques has a work computer in his office, maybe you can reactivate Mantle’s heat from there? May: ...fuck it get me some cocoa.

And indeedily, it turns out that there are programs to reactivate the heating grid! And switches to flip the direction of the Mantle/Atlas chute system! And a bunch of other stuff that’ll help Mantle, and May’s getting into it when she hits THE JACKPOT. You know how Jacques got elected a councilman? And how he got some key codes for that? Well, being the brilliant genius that he is, he put those key codes on his home computer and nobody’s thought to erase them since his arrest. Which means May can spoof Atlas systems to think ONE council member is doing things!

[Interlude with Cinder going aircar shopping, surprisingly easy when the city stores are abandoned. She has a run-in with the Glass Unicorn, which does not survive. We get a close-up of her face, and she’s frustrated that this isn’t satisfying her.]

But only having one councilmember’s codes isn’t enough to do more than move some people around the subways to safer places--great and all, but won’t solve the problem. If they had more control of Atlas’s automated systems, they could maybe do something, but the only way to do that is get more councilmember control codes. Like a majority. That’s two codes, and there’s no way to--

Blake: Wait doesn’t Ironwood have two seats? May: Yeah but he’s not going to work with us. Blake: We’re already spoofing Jacques’ codes, we can spoof Ironwood’s. May: We’d have to get to the terminal in the military compound! Blake: ...or the one in Atlas Academy. I need to make a call.

Cut to team FNKI, not at all chillin’ in their dorm. They’re ticked for so many reasons, they’re antsy, Neon gets a call from Blake and listens for a bit before saying ‘hey everyone wanna go infiltrate the Headmaster’s office and save Atlas?’ And Flynt’s like ‘You know what, sure.’ And four teenagers with attitude Power Ranger their way through some very confused soldiers and then Ivori puts on his hacker glasses and says--

Ivori: Oh crap guys. Ironwood only put the Headmaster codes on this terminal. Not the military council codes. Neon: Paranoid bitch. Ivori: Also he knows we’re here now.

Meanwhile JYR and their new pals (who may or may not include Hazel and Neo, depending on how effective Oscar is at handing out redemption arcs) have a bit of a tiff over the whole ‘recruiting bad guys’ thing and Emerald’s like ‘Guys fine arrest me but I literally have all the knowledge you need and for plot reasons we need to go to the Schnee mansion now’ so Winter’s like ‘Oh shit! I hate plot in my house!’ and she checks the clock and yeah, there’s PLENTY of time to hop over before the bomb arrives and, hey, probably fugitives, so dad Ironwood can’t yell at her for this!

[Interlude with Fiona and Joanna, who start characterizing each other and mention Important Plot Details that will probably come into play in the next volume but the fandom’s all going to speculate about how it’ll come into play this volume because we’re like that.]

So back with Ruby, she’s managed to juryrig Penny back to life and there’s this big emotional moment and Ruby has a breakdown and Weiss is all ‘I’m not equipped to handle this shit but I’ll try anyway’ and Penny has a breakdown and Weiss is like ‘yeah okay, cuddles and comfort time, come here you crazy girls’ and THEN Whitley bursts through the door and shouts ‘GUYS GUYS TEAM FNKI’S ON TV AND THEY’RE SAYING SWEAR WORDS!’

Neon: I’ve come to make an announcement: James Ironwood is a bitch-ass motherfu-- Ironwood: Okay this teenage rebellion is stupid. Luckily it’ll be easy to take back control of Atlas Academy because I am always right and never miss anything. Random Intern: But Sir! Aren’t You Worried They Will Hack Atlas’s Systems? Ironwood: Allow me to exposit on how impossible that is and how they would need three council codes to make a majority that could let that happen. Camilla, in her office: YO BITCH! REMEMBER ME?!

That’s right, Camilla’s noticed this TV broadcast, put together the pieces, and as scared as she is of Ironwood she’s noticing that he’s not really doing so hot fighting Salem so, what the heck, she’s going to tell everyone that Ironwood killed Sleet and he’s a treasonous traitor and soldiers should totally turn to Robyn Hill. Because she just sent her own council codes to ALL FOUR OF THE HAPPY HUNTRESSES. Also she says this is a pre-recorded message and she probably got killed by her doorguards.

[Meanwhile, the Hound gets a smoothie. It’s plot-detail flavored.]

Ironwood rages, but it’s okay! He’s got Robyn’s scroll! So he’s got the codes, he’s still in control aaaaaand Fiona’s already changed the password. But you know this plan is totally going to fall apart without Robyn, who’s trapped in her cell, so he marches down there to kill her before she can become a problem and comes face to face with Cinder God Damn Fall.

Ironwood: Get out of the way, I need to kill that woman. Cinder, flipping him off: Fuck you, Atlas scum, I do what I want! Hardlight generator: Hey why are you reaching for me scary lady OH GOD THE PAIN I AM DEAD THE PRISONERS ARE FREE BLEGH-- Watts: Let’s get out of here while they’re fighting each other! Cinder: ...yeah, that, that was totally my plan, yeah.

So Cinder and Watts skedaddle and the soldiers are like ‘uh should we catch them’ and Ironwood’s all ‘WE MUST KILL ROBYN’ and Robyn has no idea why but she’s not going down easy and Qrow’s screaming how Ironwood’s just the worst and Jacques is cowering in a corner because everybody has guns. Realistically a whole bunch of soldiers are able to easily subdue Qrow and Robyn and Ironwood gets ready to kill them when suddenly--

Raven: Looks like I need to save your weak ass, bro. Robyn: Who’s the hottie? Qrow: A fucking bitch. Raven: Yeah, okay, but I brought Tai along so... Taiyang: Anybody want a brownie? No? Fine. Sic’ em Zwei.

Obviously the might of the War Corgi (and yeah, the Spring Maiden, sure) is enough to get Robyn and Qrow to safety, and they also snag Robyn’s scroll on the way out, and Robyn gets informed of basically everything in one long ‘thank god you’re back’ speech by May who is REALLY tired of wrangling all these teenagers and their drama, but she’s interrupted when the Ace Ops land at the Schnee mansion and bring in their drama and should they turn on Ironwood like Camilla says and Blake says some stuff about ‘did you promise the man he is or who he pretends to be’ and Penny also has lines and there’s so much yelling--

Watts: According to my notes, Penny’s at the Schnee mansion. Cinder: My orders are to deliver you to Salem. Watts: But Cinder, there’s a lot of plot at the Schnee mansion right now! I know you looove ploooooooot! Cinder: Are you trying to tempt me to do a dumb? Watts: What can I say, I’m mischievous. Cinder: ...okay, you can drive yourself right back to Salem--I mean it! Drive STRAIGHT BACK, don’t get yourself CAUGHT AGAIN, and you tell her that you ordered me out. Watts: You have my word! Watts tells Salem Cinder totally abandoned him of her own free will.

So Cinder Fall strides into the conflict and she’s all smug--right up until she sees EMERALD IS WITH RUBY and she just flips out like ‘what the shit! What the shit girl what are you doing?!’ And Emerald says ‘I’m doing this for you! Allow me to begin my melodramatic speech about--’ Cue the Hound smashing through the window with a horde of Grimm and suddenly everything is chaos nobody knows who’s on anybody’s side Penny’s being fought over by everyone and--

Penny, eyes red: THE VAULT--Aaaaargh! Ruby, watching her fly out: Oh yeah, she was hacked, right, forgot. Cinder: The Hound: The Ace Ops: JNOR: RWBY: TRQ: May: Robyn: Kids, go after her, we’ll clean up here.

Everyone RUNS OUT OF THE SCHNEE MANSION and it’s a race to get to the Vault using every method they can and Cinder’s melting the ground and getting into fights left and right and the Ace Ops are showing their true colors by getting random citizens out of the way and meanwhile the Happy Huntresses are coordinating everything in Atlas AND Mantle and it’s all chaos but it’s clear that Ironwood’s not in control and then--

in the vault--

there he is, holding Penny’s sword. And he’s picked her up and started literally banging her against the door because the vault won’t open--

Cinder: Yo, moron, you need to do it right. Cinder: *Whips out a frying pan and conks out Ruby* Cinder, sweetly: Penny, if you don’t open that door I’ll melt her booooones~!

Welp, there’s no way to solve that hostage situation, so Penny reluctantly opens the Vault of the Winter Maiden and it looks like, oh no, somebody bad is going to get the staff, when all of the sudden--

Nora: THIS is what I’m good for! Nora’s Past: Go get ‘em girl!

Nora just catapults herself into the vault, grabs the staff and--before anybody can react--gets it to land next to Mantle. And THEN the Ace Ops come in and say ‘yeah, uh, Ironwood, totally under arrest for being stupid’ and turn off the hackersword which lets Penny get Ruby away from Cinder. Cinder’s right ticked so she reaches for the staff with her Grimm hand but, in a fit of realization, Nora decides to use the staff to regenerate Cinder’s lost arm (which destroys the Grimm Arm entirely).

Cinder: Wait... what the fuck? Why’d you do THAT?! Nora: I have complicated in-character reasons but the truth is I’m setting up a plotline for you to doubt the path you’ve chosen so you’ll turn on Salem down the line. Cinder: Well now I’m feeling existential. I think I’ll go back to Salem and whine about this whole crazy day.

So anyway the volume ends with reinforcements arriving, Robyn the new leader of the Kingdom of Mantle, Ironwood locked up for being a moron, Salem just totally blindsided by the complete upset of the board, and Nora offering to regenerate Yang’s arm. Yang says no because she gave up her arm for something precious and her new arm was a gift plus it’s awesome plus her sister’s dating a robot so saying ‘I don’t like metal arms’ is kinda hypocritical.

....

And then in the stinger Cinder’s staring in a mirror and Pyrrha says ‘Hello again.’

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Safe House

Someone is threatening you after finding out your father is a mob boss.

-

           “Dad?” You said, carrying your phone through the house, trying to find your dad. You eventually came to his office and opened the door to see him sitting there, drinking his fifth cup of coffee for the day.

           “Hey, princess,” he replied sweetly. To anyone else he was the menacing mob boss, but you? You were his princess. And that was what made you wonder if anything of what this person had emailed you was true.

           “I got an email on the one you gave me.” He had given you a private email, just for the two of you to use, when he had to go somewhere and hide out for a while. No one should have that email, and unless your dad was in hiding, you never checked it. But you’d seen the notification popped up and realized you should probably go to him.

           “I didn’t send you anything?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

           “I know,” you responded, “and that’s why I’m freaked out.” You handed him your phone and waited, making sure you couldn’t see what was on his computer. You weren’t quite sure if you wanted to know. But his eyes scanned the email and as they did, he got progressively more tense.

           “What?” He asked loudly, clenching his fist. “What the fuck?”

           “I wasn’t sure if it was real. But it has a picture of me in bed.” Your dad scrolled down to the bottom of the email to see that you were right. There was a picture of you the night before, asleep. It had definitely been taken inside of your room, too. You couldn’t lie. You were freaked out. But you knew your dad would do anything to protect you.

           “God. Go pack a bag, I’ll take care of this.”

           “No! I don’t want to leave,” you tried to say, grabbing his arm. “Dad, don’t make me go. I’ll feel even worse.” He sighed.

           “I can’t keep you safe here. I’ll have someone take you to the safe house as soon as I can and then I’ll join you. I’ll figure this out.” You nodded and he handed you back your phone, but not before forwarding the email to himself. The email, aside from the photo, was threatening you. Probably because of who your dad was, because there was no other reason for anyone to threaten you.

           “Thank you, Dad,” you said. You walked out of his office and back up the stairs, going to go pack a bag. You assumed you’d only be gone a couple of days, mostly because when you were in danger, your dad stopped everything to fix it. You were incredibly lucky that he was at home when you got the email. You never really felt safe unless he was around you somewhere, even if you were around your ‘uncles’ that worked for your dad.

           You tried to take your mind off of it as you packed, but you couldn’t. Who would want to hurt you? Actually, you had the answer to that. Most people. But what you couldn’t understand was why they threatened you directly and not your father. Usually they threatened him because he was, well, the mob boss.

           “Okay,” your dad said eventually, walking into your room. “I’m having Sam and Buck work on this. I called a car for you, they’re taking you before me. Just in case.” Your father always made you travel separately from him in case someone came after him. It had happened to your mom and he wasn’t going to let it happen to you too.

           “Okay.” You hugged your father for a minute before walking down to the car in the front of the mansion. You turned your phone off and watched the scenery go by for three hours until you arrived at the safe house. Your dad got there two hours after you did because he’d taken a different route.

           “Anything?” You asked as you stirred some soup that you were heating up. He shook his head.

           “No. But I’m sure everything will get worked out. They’re looking at it.” Your heart sank a little. “I’ll do that.” He took over cooking dinner for you. Eventually the landline was called and he let you answer it.

           “Hello?” You asked.

           “Y/N,” Sam sighed. “Is your dad with you?”

           “Yeah, he’s cooking dinner.”

           “Good. The house got broken into. Shots were fired into the office and your room. Someone was trying to hurt the two of you, for real. We think we know who but it might take a few days.”

           “Okay. Stay safe, Uncle Sammy.”

           “Stay safe, too, kiddo.” He hung up and you relayed the information to your dad, who just shook his head.

           It was days, after all. You spent most of your time with your dad, watching TV or reading. You weren’t used to spending time with the big bad mob boss, so even though you were freaked out by why you were out there in the middle of the woods you were glad that you were with him. The house you were in was only one bedroom, so your dad slept on the couch. You didn’t know it, but every so often he would wake up and run to the bedroom just to check if you were still there.

           Finally, a week later, your uncle Bucky brought groceries to the house to update you on the situation. At first your dad wasn’t sure if he wanted you to hear, but you insisted. You were sixteen. You could handle knowing why someone wanted to kill you. You sat down in the armchair, looking at both of you. Bucky sighed before he spoke.

           “It was an inside threat. We don’t know who, but we’re working on it. We were thinking, if you’re up to it, setting up a sting operation. We’ll leak that the two of you are being moved to another house, but we’ll move you two in one vehicle and leak information about another. We’ll hope they fall into it and we can get them.”

           “Only if Y/N approves,” your dad said, looking over at you. You crossed your arms and thought about it for a minute, but you nodded.

           “Anything to get this over with. I miss my friends.”

           They put the operation in motion a couple of days later. They said that you were both being moved to your dad’s beach house, citing that you missed the beach so your dad had decided to move you there. You had packed your things and got into the car that your dad was driving. It was just a Chevy, inconspicuous enough, with tinted windows. You were really going to another house at a park a couple of hours away, just in case the plan didn’t work. The fake car was driving ahead of the two of you and you watched it nervously weave in and out of lanes. There was another car behind you that had Bucky and Sam in it, trying to see if anyone was following you.

           It turned out the offending car was a massive SUV like the one you were always moved in, and you sat back and watched the action play out. The offending car, a black Yukon, threw something out at the SUV that supposedly had you in it. The SUV lit up into flames and rolled off the side of the highway. Your dad stuck his arm out to guard you and massively slowed down the car, pulling into the left lane and barely into the median break.

           “Shit, shit, shit, down, baby, down,” your dad said quickly. You heard your dad get out and looked behind you, ignoring his instructions. There was a massive crash and you realized that Sam and Bucky’s car had started shooting at the Yukon, forcing it off the road too. Your dad realized what was happening, too, and got back in the car. He started driving again, this time in the other direction, and drove all the way to the next safe house.

           “Is everyone okay?” You asked as your dad called your uncles. You sat on the couch, arms crossed, waiting. He nodded after a few minutes of talking and sat down across from you.

           “They got the guy. I’m taking you to the beach house, not home. That’s still not safe yet.” You started getting ready to go, loading your things in the car again. You looked once at the safe house and thanked your lucky stars that your dad hadn’t left your side.

A/N: I’m sorry this took me so long to write and that it’s so short! It’s my first time writing a Mob AU so it could very well be crap but I have no idea how to write these yet. Thank you for the request still!

Taglist: @an-adventureland @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x18 - My Winter Song (part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to - Munich, Germany. Sage is at the University lab, late at night. She seems to be transferring information from one of the main computers into a USB device. From the look on her face, she’s probably not supposed to be doing that. 

A few minutes later, Pietro sneak vamps behind her and starts kissing her neck.

 PIETRO: (Peeking at the computer screen) What is my head of project doing here at this time of night, instead of in my bed?

SAGE: (Trying to hide her true intentions the best that she can) Sorry, I couldn’t sleep… I think we missed something when we did the isolation process…

PIETRO: And what would that be?

SAGE: Look at the DNA structure (points to an image on the screen)…

PIETRO: Darling, you forget I’m a businessman. I have no idea what I’m looking at...

SAGE: There are some structural changes; barely visible… but it seems there were errors in the genetic coding.

PIETRO: Still not understanding a word you are saying. What does that mean?

SAGE: It means it mutated…

PIETRO: (Gets a call, looks at his cellphone screen) I have to take this. I’ll be back in a moment (leaves the room to take the call).

SAGE: (As soon as he walks out the door, she checks to see how the download process is going) Come on, come on… (on another window, which looks to be some kind of GPS tracking map, she anxiously waits for a result… seconds later, she seems to have found what she had been looking for) Got you! (Looking at the result) What the hell is that place? Well, at least we know where it is now… pinpoint location, copy, paste… (she transfers the information into the drive and manages to take out the device just in time. She quickly puts it in one of her lab robe pockets. Just as she is about to text someone, Pietro vamps back, starts kissing her neck again).

PIETRO: (As he kisses her, he whispers) You know that saying, “It's lonely at the top”… ( Violently snaps her neck). It is…

Cut to – Damon, Stefan, Bonnie, and Caroline, having a drink in the living room.

DAMON: So, ladies, what is this about? You are freaking me out.

STEFAN: That makes two of us…

CAROLINE: Well, we thought it would be best if we told you together.

DAMON: Not helping, Barbie. What’s going on?

BONNIE: It’s about your family…

CAROLINE: You know how your dad had another kid…

STEFAN: Only good thing to come out of that, were Sarah and Uncle Zach. (Sarcastic) But then, of course, Damon had to kill them.

DAMON: Oh, come on, bro! I said I was sorry!

STEFAN: I know. Just saying, you were a dick.

BONNIE: Guys, you are going off topic; that’s not the point.

DAMON: (Smirks) Thank you, Bon!

CAROLINE: We wanted to ease you into this, but I’m just going to say it. Your half-brother’s name is Pietro Salvatore, and he is very much alive. Well, sort of…

DAMON: (He and Stefan crack-up) Good one, Goldilocks, but that’s impossible.

STEFAN: Is this some kind of retaliation for Vegas? Did someone snitch? I bet it was Kai! (Turns to Damon) I told you!

DAMON: That little…

BONNIE: Guys, we are serious. Turns out he is the head of Elena’s medical program in Munich. And, it is possible in the same way it’s possible for you to be more than 200 years old…

DAMON: Even from his grave Giuseppe still finds a way to mess with us…

STEFAN: I can’t believe this… How are we finding out about him now? He seems to have been around for a long time… you’d figure we would have found out about him over the years.

DAMON: Well, it’s not like there’s a vampire club.

BONNIE: You should probably also know that the “mystery woman”, was a Petrova.

DAMON: You have got to be kidding me! Have we secretly fallen into an episode of the Twilight Zone?!

CAROLINE: Also, from what Elena told us, he’s up to no good.

DAMON: Given the Salvatore track record, wouldn’t expect him to be “vampire of the year”.

STEFAN: I think I need some time to process this…

BONNIE: Elena gave us some research on his background (hands them a folder). She got it from one of her university friends who got close to him. None of us have seen it; figured you should be the ones to look at it first. We’ll give you guys some space… (she and Care leave).

Cut to - Munich, Germany. Elena, Sam, and Alex, in one of their Cadaveric Anatomy practices.

 ALEX: Where is Sage? She’s never late…

SAM: Didn’t she tell you? She went home for the holidays; sent me a text earlier. Spur of the moment type thing.

ALEX: That’s strange, she didn’t tell me anything… And, she hates her family. Why would she go see them?

SAM: I stopped trying to understand what goes through Sage’s head a long time ago.

ELENA: In her defense, no matter how crazy it may be, there is no place like home…

SAM: Feeling home sick?

ELENA: A little… (he kisses her). I know I was just there, but it’s always hard to spend the holidays away from home.

SAM: It sure is. Was the info Sage got on Pietro any useful to them?

ELENA: Not sure, I didn’t read it. Gave it to Bonnie and Caroline to do what they thought was best (someone walks in).

PROFESSOR: Students, may I have your attention. I have a couple of announcements. First, we have a new temporary program director, Mr. Salvatore had to go out of the country to attend other matters. Until further notice, Mr. Veritas Dracul will be taking his place. You will have a chance to meet him later on, once he is settled in. Second, and I ask you not to be alarmed, this is only a precaution. We have been informed that one of our main lab computers has been breached. Special Agents will be investigating, and they will need your full collaboration. Until they find everyone involved, the main lab will be inaccessible to students without Faculty supervision. Last, but not least, for all of those who will be staying here for the holidays, we have planned some wonderful festivities; we look forward to seeing you there! That’s all for now, have a productive day (walks out).

ELENA: It sounds serious… You don’t think Sage had anything to do with that, do you?

SAM: Not sure, but she probably knows more about it.

ALEX: And now I’m sure Sage didn’t just “go home for the holidays”. We need to find out what’s going on… (takes his phone out and calls Sage) Straight to voice mail…

SAM: Maybe we should check out her room, see if we find anything off.

ALEX: It feels all sorts of stalker wrong; but I agree.

ELENA: You guys really think she was the one that broke into the computer? The main computers are off limits to students. Even if she is on the inside, I highly doubt Pietro would give her access to classified information.

SAM: Ever heard of the term honey trap?

ALEX: I fucking hate that guy! And if he hurt Sage in any way, I’m going to kill him.

SAM: Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Sage is as tough as they come, if anyone knows how to defend themselves, it’s her. I’m sure she’s fine.

ALEX: Still, this is a vampire we are talking about, not your average Joe. If Sage got caught phishing around, I don’t think he would just let her off with a hand slap.

ELENA: I’ve seen the worst side of both his brothers; yet he scares me more than they ever did…

SAM: Okay, one step at a time. Alex, send her a text. Maybe she ran out of battery or she’s flying. If you don’t get a reply by the end of the day, we’ll check out her room and take it from there.

Cut to – Edward’s mansion. He’s sleeping in his room, wakes up suddenly, shaking and sweating. 

He gets out of bed, and makes his way to the study. Finds the Madame having a glass of wine.

 EDWARD: Figured you would still be here. Do you ever sleep?

THE MADAME: Do you?

EDWARD: I was, until another nightmare woke me up.

THE MADAME: How come you hadn’t told me you have been having nightmares?

EDWARD: I was hoping they would go away eventually, but they are not. I need your help.

THE MADAME: Of course, love, whatever you need.

EDWARD: I want you to read my mind.

THE MADAME: Edward… we agreed it was best I never do that.

EDWARD: I know. But these nightmares feel different. I really need to know what they are about.

THE MADAME: There are other ways to do that. We can find you one of those dream interpreters.

EDWARD: You know better than anyone those people are charlatans. This is the only way.

THE MADAME: A very dangerous one…

EDWARD: If it helps me get rid of the nightmares, I’m willing to take the risk.

THE MADAME: They are that bad?

EDWARD: They are.

THE MADAME: You know there are no guarantees.

EDWARD: Like I said, I’m willing to risk it.

THE MADAME: Are you positive, dear? Once it’s done, there is no going back…

EDWARD: I know…

THE MADAME: Fine… I will do it. But you must promise me you will not skip a single dose of your medication. Your mind is fragile, and this is not going to help with that.

EDWARD: I won’t. And my mind is not that fragile.

THE MADAME: You know what I am talking about. I’m only trying to protect you.

EDWARD: And I thank you. But I promise, I will be fine; I can handle it. Now, how does this work?

THE MADAME: I need you to sit down, relax, and close your eyes (he does). Now, take deep breaths, try to leave your mind at a blank. Just focus on your respiration… 

(She places her hands on his head, and closes her eyes…).

Cut to – The Lockwood mansion. Matt is in his bathroom, staring at the mirror. He looks frustrated and scared. Khuyana walks in.

 KHUYANA: Matt, what is going on? Are you okay?

MATT: I thought it would go away, but its been some time now, and still no change… I’m losing eyesight on my left eye. All I see are shadows and bright lights…

KHUYANA: What!? How come you didn’t tell me?! We need to have a Doctor check you out immediately.

MATT: They have… I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to get upset. When I was taken by those “sketchy” military guys, they messed me up so bad that I actually lost an eye. Sick bastards put this weird bionic eye in its place. I don’t remember anything, I found out when I went to get it checked. Sorry I didn’t tell you; I was scared and really hoping this thing would work. The Doctors told me that it is the highest tech they had ever seen, and that I could actually regain my full eyesight. But… I haven’t. There is no way I can remain a Sheriff like this…

KHUYANA: Oh my god, Matt… I…I… I don’t know what to say (hugs him)…

MATT: Guess I’ll have to find a job that doesn’t require 20/20 vision.

KHUYANA: But you love your job! I’m sure there is a way around this.

MATT: K, I shot Penny with perfect sight, imagine what I could do now… I can’t put anyone at risk.

KHUYANA: I’m going to stop you right there! You are the best Sheriff this town has ever had!

MATT: Second best…

KHUYANA: Regardless, you are not giving up your life’s dream because you feel you might not be fit for it! What happened to Penny was a tragedy, and it had nothing to do with your skills! I’ve seen you practice shooting blindfolded, so don’t you dare tell me you aren’t good for the job! Plus, have you ever heard of Daredevil? If he can, you sure as hell can!

MATT: (Smirks) I knew I should have told you before, you always find a way to make everything better.

KHUYANA: Yes, you should have told me! We are a team; we deal with things together (kisses him). Everything will be fine…

MATT: (Caresses her tummy) It sure will…

KHUYANA: I know you’ve been dying to tell your friends. Tell you what, we’ll do it after New Year’s.

MATT:  I love you, K…

KHUYANA: I love you, M… (they kiss).

TVD 9x18 (part 2) coming next! Hope you stop by, read, and enjoy! =)

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

The Hard Things--Alternative Ending

Doing the right thing is never easy. Calum and Freya have a lot going for them. But what happens when fear gets in the way.

Inspired by I Follow Rivers by Marika Hackman and Starting Line by Luke Hemmings.

Calum X Black Female OC. Angst with a happy ending. Because my characters should never be happy.

The Hard Things--Original Ending.

Materlist (on a semi hiatus)

___________

If Freya were going to be honest, she would admit that the second she saw Calum and his friends walk into the building she knew things were going to be bad. But Freya’s not being honest. Because being honest would almost include admitting just how too easy it was that day. How if those particular sequences of events hadn’t happened that specifically, then she wouldn’t be here--trying not to watch the quiver in his chin or the way he blinks rapidly. Then she wouldn’t be trying to forget the way his voice quakes.

But they did happen in that particular order. On a Thursday afternoon, he and his friends walked through the door. And here, here at this part, it’s easy to be honest.

Honestly, she is staring--way too hard and way too long at the rag-tag gaggle of people, but especially the man pulling up the rear of the group with a bright red hat snug on his head and covering his eyes, though not even the brim can hide the plump full lips pulled up into a tiny grin at something that must’ve been said. Because another guy, this one fairer-skinned in a hat too and a baggy t-shirt is also laughing. And of course, this group would enter just as Tre stepped away to check on the lanes already throwing. Vanessa wasn’t too far from the desk, but she was trying to help some parents figure out when they could schedule an event for someone’s birthday in the coming weeks.

This only leaves Freya as the only person available right now until rounds were completed to handle any new patrons. With a glance down to the clock on the computer, she could see that a couple more folks would be coming back to the front at any point. But clearly, that point wouldn’t come quick enough.

“Hi,” Freya greets flicking her gaze back up to the group with a quick smile. It’s the training. The fact that more than once she’d been told that customers liked her, especially the way she gave instructions but she needed to smile more. And if this weren’t the job keeping her afloat during her time of getting her degree, in addition to the administrative desk work she did at the university, she would leave here in a heartbeat. Possibly even in the blink of an eye. Whichever was faster.

“Hey! We were hoping you had a couple of lanes for us.”

Freya counts the head. “Just you seven?”

The guy that spoke initially turns the man in the back with the bright red hat on. “Still no word from her?”

The guy shrugs. “Don’t sweat it.” And Freya clings to every syllable. The almost sleepy drawl to his voice lined with a twinge of an accent. She can’t place it at first. But all of them share slight variations in it. The man in the red hat’s voice is low but smooth.

“Yeah just the seven of us,” a taller man pipes in.

“Okay, we can only have two people throwing on a lane at a time. I can put you on neighboring ones but we’ve got very strict rules about how many people can throw at a time.”

There’s a murmur amongst the group but eventually, it comes back to Freya that they’re okay with it. She runs down the safety rules, the forms they have to form out, and checks their IDs. She notices the man with the red hat’s name is Calum and though she knows she shouldn’t, she tries to commit it to memory. It won’t last long. She forgets names all too fast, but she never forgets a face.

“Nessa, watch the desk for me!” Freya calls out as she collects the cases with the axes and directs the party to their lanes. There’s a table for convening and a separate for the axes to rest. “Alright,” she starts with a quick whistle to settle the group. They get chatty but are quick to turn their attention back to her. “I don’t want to kick anyone out, but I will. So one last recap of the rules.”

When Freya finishes, she has the entire group repeat the rules back to her. When they return it to her all correctly, she smiles. “I appreciate y’all already. There are several range officers. They monitor carefully from several posts,” and she points them out as she speaks. “The shift rotates out in an hour. Meaning you’ll have to pause let the old shift go and let the new shift jump in. You’ll hear beeps to signal you to stop and start. If you have any other questions or concerns, you can find me at the front or a range officer. And we’ll be happy to help. Let’s keep all fingers, toes, extremities, and eyeballs intact and we can have a great day together. Enjoy.”

Usually, in her safety spills and best way to throw, Freya makes sure to keep eye contact with everyone in the group. However, she places a purposeful gaze on Calum when she tells them to enjoy. It’s reckless--she knows that. A little flirting hasn’t hurt her. Besides, she knows the moment she walks away, he’ll forget about her. They always did and she likes it like that. Flirty enough to keep good reviews, but never too flirty to insinuate anything more.

In her departure, Freya feels eyes on her, lasting longer than usual. And maybe she put more emphasis behind the swish of her hips and maybe she hoped it was Calum watching her walk away. But she doesn’t dare turn around. No matter how much she hopes in a fleeting second that maybe she had flirted just a little too much, Freya does not turn around to confirm or deny anything.

Back at the front desk, Freya takes a look at the cameras. Anyone at the front can see the lanes too--it’s for safety when you have live blades. Her gaze travels over each one though just out of the corner of her eye she catches the bright red hat. A few guys clasp him on the back but she can’t hear whatever else is said. The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly. As people leave, few come in to replace them. The weekend will be busier--it always in. And Freya knows that soon too, once the afternoon becomes evening things will pick up just a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Everything okay?”

Freya barely sees who it is talking before they’re out of the door. Calum, phone pressed to his ear. She watches him for a beat as he paces near the front windows of the establishment. Her gaze doesn’t linger long before something on the floor catches her eye. She sees it’s black and square. When she gets closer it looks like a wallet. Clearly used and loved by the creases in it. She glances back up to Calum to see him still on the phone and peeks at the ID just to make sure who it belongs to.

With the blank stare of Calum’s ID photo looking up at her, Freya takes it back behind the desk. She’ll wait until he gets off the phone. A minute or two later, the door chimes again with Calum reentering.

“Hey, you dropped this,” she calls out, stepping out from the desk to hold out the wallet.

Calum pats his pockets and a split second panic causes his eyes to go wide. “Oh shit, thanks. I-I didn’t even realize it fell out of my pocket.”

“No worries. Just glad to get it back to you.” Calum takes it and slips it into his pocket, hands patting the outside to make doubly sure it’s secure. “You guys doing okay back there?

“Yeah, we’re good. Though I think somehow the girls are kicking our asses.”

Freya smiles with a small tuft of laughter escaping her. “It’s power and finesse. You can tear down brick buildings but if you don’t get the release right so it’s not twirling over the axis too many times, you’ll come up with nothing.”

“So says the expert?”

Her cheeks heat for a second at the raised eyebrow Calum gives her. Running her tongue over her teeth to hide the smile, Freya nods. “Yeah, I’ve thrown an axe or two in my lifetime. So I guess that counts as me being an expert.”

Calum laughs. Whether it’s at her or not, Freya’s not sure. But she likes the sound of it. “Tell me what else the expert suggests.”

A moment passes where Freya’s watching his gaze. Wondering if an anime glint will twinkle over his brown eyes because it’s a smooth delivery. Smoother than some of the stuff she’s done. There’s no way he’s fucking real.

Freya takes a half step back, slipping through the threshold that separates the front desk from the main lobby and the hallway to the back where the lanes are set up. “This expert suggests that you try her advice and impress all your friends.”

“More finesse. In the wrist, right?”

“In the wrist.”

A shy smile is shared between the two of them. It borders telling everything and saying nothing at all, borders on giving away on how much Calum might’ve considered concocting a ruse just to get her attention and how much he did backtrack on his plan because it was his sister calling and that shocked him. The smile borders on Freya twirling the Havana twists around her finger and her rolling her eyes at Calum’s thinly veiled attempts at flirting.

Both of them are saved by the front door chiming and Freya gives a nod to Calum before turning her attention to the person now entering. But Calum watches the way she leans into the counter and smiles down at the small child standing next to their parent. “Oh my god, you’re getting so big,” Freya comments and then walks back around to settle next to them.

“No, Fre, I’m not bigger dan yesterday,” the kid responds.

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Your dad will be out in just a second. Shift change had to wait for one more person. Anything cool happen at school today?”

Calum leaves then, though he can catch the small boy gush about the races he won at recess. It’s probably crazy of him to try and find some sort of way to come back here again soon, but Calum’s already trying to put together an excuse.

When Calum heads back to the front with the group, laughing at Michael’s utter disgust at the way the last few throws went, he does look for Freya. A girl with red hair is sitting at the desk instead. And though a little bit of disappoints settles into his stomach because he wanted to tell her how well her advice worked, he finds himself resolved and it wouldn’t be broken.

******

Calum told himself whatever Freya had to say during this talk wouldn’t break him. Hell, if he were honest, he didn’t think it would go like this. “You know, I used to say I was no good for people all the time,” Calum laughs. He sniffs hard and wipes his noses on the back of his nose. “It was a clean get-away line.”

“I’m not giving you a get-away line. I’m giving you the truth,” Freya returns.

“No, I’m-I’m not saying you’re giving me bullshit. You’re setting a boundary and a good one at that. I respect it. I’m just saying the irony. The same thing I used to tell others is coming back my way.”

“Karma’s a bitch.”

“I don’t regret it.” Calum shakes his head, not because he’s lying. But to emphasize his point.

*****

Calum doesn’t regret going to the Yelp, Facebook, or Instagram page of the business to see if she had liked it or appeared anywhere on their social media. And luck would have it, he manages to find her. The owners like to show off their employees. Their preferred form of employee appreciation appears, in Calum’s investigation, to be a quick bio of new employees along with a video of them throwing. He nearly misses Freya’s post because of his quick scrolls. The bottom of the page comes up quicker than the app could handle and just as the new page loads that he notices it. The thick twists and black lipstick sitting on her cool dark brown skin.

He doesn’t regret it when he followed the account that was tagged, or the message he sent her from his finsta, or the messages they exchanged for a few days. And he for damn sure can’t find himself to regret it when he came back to the place a couple of weeks later to see if Freya was working.

There’s no regret when she smiles at him and laughs. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to test your theory yet again. It worked last time. But I want to make sure that it wasn’t beginner’s luck.”

“You doubt me. You dare doubt me? I’m offended.”

Calum laughs briefly as he leans into the counter of the front desk. “It’s more like I’m testing a theory. Making sure the results can be recreated.”

“Oh, I promise you my results are valid.” She reaches out for his ID and every so gently their fingers brush. Calum can’t tell if that’s intentional or not, but it doesn’t the slight shiver that runs down his spine. “So just you today, huh?” Freya continues on, grabbing a clipboard, some forms, and a pen.

“Just me.”

“Rest of your friends scared.” Her gaze falls to the stack she’s gathering, checking something off on the top page and then sliding the ID back to Calum.

“They’d probably laugh at me if they knew I was here.”

“Laugh at you?”

“Tell me--why do you think I’m here?”

A moment passes between them. Though it takes up more like several seconds, time feels froze as Freya studies his face. Calum wants to reach up and readjust his hat out of a nervous habit. He wants to take it back. But more than anything, he wants to know if he has a shot. If it’s worth really pursuing.

“I think you’re here to test a theory. Maybe, just maybe you’re here because of Vanessa too,” she smiles as it says. Like she knows that isn’t the truth but she doesn’t want to give into Calum.

And while it’s not the answer he was hoping for, Calum takes it. She wants to play a game and he can be down for that.

*****

She wants to reach out for his hands. They sit next to each other in the lounge chairs Calum keeps lined around his pool. But Freya thinks twice about it. The bulbs dangle above them casting an amber hue onto the water, a stark contrast to the twilight pressing evening closer to night’s full darkness. Freya does regret it. She regrets not leaving her teasing response just to testing a theory. She knew what Calum was fishing for, what he was hoping to confirm when he came back by himself.

Maybe it was just where she was then. Then she thought she could give more. Now she realizes she can’t. She likes it when she’s dating someone and they can decide on a random Sunday for errand runs. She likes having them around. And not that Calum wouldn’t be around. Tours didn’t happen all the time. But they did run long. And who the hell knows where she’d be in eight months after she graduated. Her life wasn’t stable--she wasn’t tied to the West Coast like Calum was.

Her life was full of variables. Ones that she didn’t really plan on trying to solve until closer to Christmas in the spring right before graduation. And she didn’t want to give Calum any more false hope. It wasn’t set in stone that she’d be staying in LA and it wasn’t set in stone that she could handle the long departures. Calum deserved someone that was more sure of themselves.

“I think having regrets is no good anyway,” Freya says, finally breaking the long silence between them. “Having them doesn’t change what happened anyway.” But that doesn’t change the fact that you still regret this, Freya thinks to herself.

“I used to believe love could overcome any obstacle.”

Freya turns to look to Calum and catches thhe way the stubble on his chin from the few weeks he’s gone without shaving halos just a little in the lights. “Used to? The right person, the right love--”

Calum shakes his head. “Now I think people loving me means that they love themselves and they can tell me what they want or need. No guessing. No games.”

“Still sounds a lot of a hell lot like overcoming obstacles.”

“But it’s not a dream. It’s tangible. It’s not me daydreaming up in the clouds. It’s me--right here. Right now. Knowing seeing what it means more than anything else that all the shit I was thinking of as a kid really needed just to be put on the ground level for me.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“I mean as much as it fucking sucks that you’re telling me no, I know you’re doing it for the right reasons. I-there’s like this thing with me. I watch people. I don’t walk into a room of strangers and become the center of attention. I don’t like people all that much, but I care. You know? I care about the people I put into my life and I want them to do well and succeed. I want what’s best for them. It’s not always easy to want that, but innately, I do, I think. Deep down I want what’s good for people. And maybe love is doing the hard things, you know.”

He pauses. Freya watches the way he drops his head, fingers threading through the curls. She keeps quiet. There’s something more, something deeper to the words. “And you’re doing the hard thing. Whether it’s for me or not is debatable,” Calum continues. “But I think love is doing the hard things.”

“You said that having some space was important to you. And while I understand that, like you do need to be your own person in a relationship--”

“Your reasons or how you want to justify it to yourself for me isn’t something I need. You already said that you know what you expect and like out a relationship and that the touring would be too hard for you. Set boundaries for you. What good does it do to justify it to me?”

“So you know I’m not being an asshole, Calum. For fuck sake.”

“No, no, I-shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant--who are boundaries really for? What do they do?”

“I guess they do protect the person making them. But I’m not trying to be an asshole to you. I swear.”

Calum looks up from the cement of his background lining the pool to the glossy sheen coating Freya’s eyes. They’re black in the settling night. But Calum knows they’re more like a medium brown--dark enough to get lost in them, but when they catch the light just right, they can feel like an enchanting spell sucking him in.

“Freya, you are a sarcastic son of a bitch. But an asshole to those that don’t deserve it, never.”

She sucks on her teeth, swatting at his bicep. “Take that back.”

Calum leans onto his left elbow, closing the gap between them just a little. A smile lifts his lips gently. “Never.”

“We’ve both been burned. Is it bad I didn’t want that again?”

“No. I used to say love is a scam. So I don’t think I’m necessarily the poster boy for relationships.”

“But admit it, you hoped this was the one so you wouldn’t be the odd man out.” His brows furrow at her comment. Freya gives him a soft smile. “Two of the guys are engaged. But all three of them are in a relationship.”

He sighs, gazing dropping from her face. “Maybe I was hoping so. Is it bad of me to want to be in love?”

“No. I told some kids that my boyfriend was Shermar Moore,” Freya admits with a laugh. “I was working at a summer camp and one girl saw his picture on my phone. It was my lockscreen for the longest time. So I just went with it. Well, I was spurred in part because of Drew who was a fucking creep and wouldn’t leave me alone. But I did fantasize about it. Dream of being in love with some famous and the limelight. Shit at that point, I hadn’t even dated anyone either. So another part of it was a desire too.”

“Is that part of it too? Worried about what trolls and whatever will say?”

“Oh, no one who doesn’t know shit about it can make me get outside myself.” Freya laughs but reclines into the cushions of the chair. “But maybe it’s a little bit of it. That’s too many voices talking all about you. It’s a lot of noise and some of it has to bleed through you know. Even if you’re careful and you work not to take it in, some does, right?”

“I don’t think humans were created to be able to handle that much criticism or even love and adoration. Our brains can’t handle it. So yeah, a little bit seeps in. But you keep that door closed as much as you can. You talk to people that also get it. Fuck, you even get a therapist.”

“Or a dog,” Freya says before turning her head to watch Duke laying inside next to the back door.

“And a dog,” Calum corrects.

“Excuse me, you get a therapist and a dog.”

“Tell me something.”

“I’m listening,” Freya returns, looking back to Calum.

“Before you go tonight, tell me the thing you’re going to cherish between us.”

“Will you do the same?” Calum nods at the question but doesn’t respond verbally as he gazes at her.

“Do you want to answer now?”

“Are you leaving now?”

“I-I didn’t think you wanted me to stay.”

“I want you to stay as long as you feel comfortable. And then when you leave, the parting thing we have is the good, the best of us.”

“What if I stay until dawn?”

“Then you stay until dawn. Though, I think it’s safe to say both of us will pass out by 3 AM.”

“That was the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve ever done,” Freya laughs. Remembering the same she spent a Friday night after a shift at Calum’s place. He had a birthday party on Saturday along with a vet appointment with Duke. And then Sunday, Freya had we weekly lunch with her friends that she couldn’t miss. So Calum asked her if she wanted dinner Friday night at his place. Which she said yes to, but then it turned into them doing a movie marathon. Which then turned into Calum betting her that he could stay up longer than her. But they ultimately passed out around 3 in the morning on Calum’s couch.

“Thankfully, I did not miss Duke’s vet appointment that time,” Calum tacks on.

“Yeah, no thanks to me waking you up half an hour before it.”

“That darlin’ is what I call details.”

“No, I call that a very important fact,” Freya defends sitting up. “Duke would’ve been late twice if not for me.”

Calum giggles at her incredulous look. She always got heated fast, though she knew when it was serious things and when it wasn’t. “It wasn’t him paying for the visit.”

“So you ought to kiss the ground I’m standing on right now because you didn’t have to pay anything like a cancellation fee.”

“You’re not standing on any ground right-” the sentence doesn’t get the wind to complete itself when Calum watches her stand up. “Or maybe you are standing up.”

Freya hears him, but she gazes up to the sky. Trying to look past the twinkle of his backyard lights. There’s not much to see due to the light pollution. But the sounds capture her attention next. His neighborhood’s almost been mostly quiet. But with the twinge of the summer’s heat fading, Freya can hear the last bit of people outside. A dog barks into the night and there’s the crunch only tires on gravel and asphalt can give. There’s a hum in the night that Freya can feel in her bones.

It’s hard not to fall in love with the sounds of the night. It’s hard not to romanticize this, how possibly if things were different she could find herself at some point always standing in the middle of this backyard listening to the sounds of the night, having Calum beside her or maybe Duke when he’s gone and just letting herself go to the buzz. In all honesty, Freya craved stability. Always having something to come back was her dream. But in that dream it was a partner who would be there for every dinner. A shared space that was full with both of their presences.

“When you think about coming home what’s there?” Freya asks. “Like, in ten years, what’s in your home when you walk inside?”

Calum closes his eyes, bringing the picture to his mind’s eye. “Like, the truth of what I see?”

“The truth,” Freya confirms.

“Two kids, a dog for sure. Maybe two. A wife. A lot of laughs. Being knocked over with hugs. Maybe a movie that hasn’t quite been paused catches my ears. Maybe it’s summer and my mum’s over too. Because she wants to be around the kids as much as possible. And my sister--she comes over when she can too. So we have to figure out what to cook because it’s a family dinner night. I’m mostly likely in Australia. But I could be somewhere else. Just not LA. I don’t think I could have kids here.”

“That sounds lovely, Calum.”

“But I am scared. My parents divorced. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“That wasn’t your fault. And if we heal from our trauma before having kids then maybe some of our fears won’t come to reality.”

“And if it does.”

“Then we know the boogeyman is real and sometimes we can do our best but things that are meant to happen will still happen.”

“Your parents are divorced too, right?” Calum remembers her mentioning a distinction between her mother’s house and her father’s house. But she hadn’t outright stated that her parents were divorced, just alluded to it.

“Yeah. My dad remarried. He seems happy.”

“What about you? If you closed your eyes and thought about yourself in 10 years, where are you?”

“I technically asked what do you see in your home when you walk inside 10 years from now.”

“Oh, come off it,” Calum laughs, throwing a dismissive wave her way.

“But,” she giggles and then closes her eyes. The breeze blows across her face and she lifts her chin up to catch as much of it as she can. Then she speaks, “I don’t know. Home’s full of the people I love. And I feel stable. I’m not worried about what I’m going to do weeks from now when something inevitably has to change. Because nothing’s going to change. Or at least, I’m not anticipating change. I think that’s what I’m sick of. I’m sick of dealing with change and constantly moving around and not knowing what the next year is going to look like. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder and planning. I just want to be still.”

“You did the whole back and forth between houses, huh?”

“Yeah. I always felt like I was playing two versions of myself when I was younger. I had to be one way around my mother and one way around my father and according to my therapist, the constant games of charade fucked me up a little.”

“How often did you go between their houses?”

“Every weekend.”

Calum sucks in air through his teeth, “Yikes. Yeah, no wonder you want stability.”

“Oh, thank you Dr. Hood. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well this is a question so it’s not something you don’t know, but is the thought of me being gone for months at a time remind you of that? Like, you’d have to be one way while I was here and then another way when I was gone?”

Freya shrugs. But it’s right on the nose. “I’d have to learn to be with you and then be without you. And all I have are switches. No dimmers. I’m either on or I’m off. And I-I’m working on it. But I’ve got a long way to go.”

Calum scoffs, whispering mostly to himself. “All I have are switches. No dimmers.” It’s not a taunt to her. It’s not him blowing her concern off. It’s recognition that colors his tone. It’s the sigh when hearing something that connects so deeply it takes all the oxygen from lungs with it.

“And I swear to Christ, Calum, if you make a Lowe’s or Home Depot joke, I will extract your ankles from you right here right now.”

“Extract? What the hell?” Calum laughs.

“Broken ankles heal,” Freya returns with a smirk. Her face is lit mostly from above due to continued standing position but Calum catches the way her lips move.

“Remind me to really never piss you off. Between your ability to throw axes and the time you told me about putting ham on a girl’s car, I don’t think I want that kind of trouble in my life.”

“I only put the ham on the car because my friend was heartbroken and she was a cunt for cheating.”

“Yeah, see that’s what I mean,” Calum points out, his index finger swirling in a circle in front of her.

“I could’ve slashed her tires too.”

“I think ruining her paint job was more than enough.”

Freya places her hands on her hips, looking down at Calum. “I’ve got some anger issues too. Did I mention that?”

They laugh but Calum recovers first to speak. “I hadn’t noticed it before. Thank you for telling me that. But in all seriousness, Freya, the boundaries you have make sense. I hope you continue with therapy as well,” he states with a giggle. “But it’s not easy to look back at yourself and realize ‘Oh shit, maybe I don’t want that thing again because that actually fucking hurt’. And do something about it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“Thanks, Calum. And I will continue with this therapist for the rest of the school year because it’s free. Shoutout to some universities for having really accessible mental health resources.”

Freya finally sits, facing Calum. He keeps his gaze averted. But it doesn’t bother her. “What’s the intention behind telling me I can stay as long as I want? Is it to get me to change my mind? Just earlier both of us were near tears and now we’re walking down memory lane. Sharing things we hadn’t shared yet.”

“I want as much of you as I can get before you’re gone. Selfish, right?” The tears are back, she can hear them in his voice.

“No. A bit of your masochism showing, certainly.”

“You ever know something’s bad for you, but you want it anyway? You want the pain anyway?”

“I mean considering both of us are littered tattoos, pain’s not something we’re too worried about.”

Calum wishes he didn’t laugh, not even the short burst of laughter. “Someone’s coping with humor.”

“Someone’s self flagellating.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want you to go. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself either.”

“Maybe love is doing the hard things. You said that yourself.”

Calum swallows hard and his voice only comes out in a whisper. “I know I did.”

Freya blinks away the blur of tears. But as soon as they clear, more replace them. Her voice is tight as she speaks. “Doing the hard things suck though. Don’t think this is easy.”

“It’s because it’s the hard thing,” Calum returns. He wants to smile and manages to get a small one but he knows. Freya’s going to leave. She won’t stay.

“My favorite thing,” she starts and Calum exhales hard. There it is--the confirmation. The sentence gets caught in her throat so she pauses to clear it, work the tears down to at least speak. God, why couldn’t it have been easy. “My favorite thing between us, about us, whatever you want to label it as, is that we could also be honest. And even if it was burning waffles or ducking paps to watch a movie for an anime that you had no idea anything about because I wanted to go desperately and you had to Google a summary during the previews, we were always honest with each other.”

“I want to put it out there that you only told me that it was for an anime as I was buying the tickets. So I had zero time to prepare beforehand.”

“I told you the name of it the Monday before we saw it.”

“And admittedly, I forget it the second after you said it.”

“Fair enough, Calum. Fair enough.”

Calum spins in the chair and takes her hand. The first time they’ve touched today. Normally, Freya was more than happy to give out hugs but when Calum opened the front door, she have a half smile and stepped inside. If he could go back to earlier, he’d tell himself that was the first sign.

His thumb passes gently over the butterfly on her left hand. “The thing I’m going to cherish is that you made me feel sixteen again. My entire life changed at sixteen and I felt pretty invincible. I was also scared and excited. I was going to be in a band, like a one with lots of records and I don’t know--I only had that dream to believe in because I damn sure did not have a back up. It was before the downs. And I don’t regret the hard times either. But you’re the first person in a long time that gave me those butterflies. Assumed I was just never going to feel them again and I wasn’t a good person before, not as good as I could’ve been. But you gave me something to be good for again. Getting your text made my whole fucking day. And you-god, you cared about so many things. I bought books you recommended and couldn’t wait to talk about them with you. I remembered the kind of person I want to be. So thank you. For making me feel sixteen again in the cheesiest way possible but also in the best way possible too. That things are worth giving a shit for and that we can let people in and it won’t always burn.”

“Just a little sting.”

Calum nods. “Just a little sting.”

Freya brings his hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the right one. Her sniffle is loud amongst the hum of the night. “If it weren’t for the fact that my eyeliner is tattooed to my face it would probably be running. I’m sorry it has to hurt at all. But-but I’m hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Hopeful that we’ll get what we need out of life.”

He nods again, watching the tears track down her cheek. “We will.”

Her hands gently slip back out of his grasp and she uses the back of her wrist to press under her nose. The tremors shake her hands, so she shakes them before standing. Calum cranes his neck up, words about to fall from his lips. But she cups his cheek and smiles at him. “Don’t. There’s nothing else to say.”

It happens just as he blinks. He sighs, eyes closing to steel himself. Because there’s always so much else to say. And then her lips are pressing to his forehead. It last long enough for Calum to take hold of her thighs instinctively want to pull her in closer to him.

Then she’s gone. His hand slides down the rough denim and Freya’s walking to the edge of the backdoor. Duke picks up his head but doesn’t move much else. “Oh yeah, you don’t need to move. You know everyone comes to you, huh?” She gives him a few pats and scratches. “I’ll send you something for your adoption day, okay, love? And you might hate wearing it or you might love eating it. But be on the lookout for the mailman. He’ll have something from me.”

Calum doesn’t say anything as she says her goodbyes to Duke. She kisses the top of his head too and he thinks she might’ve whispered something else but he’s not certain from his spot on the chair. The swish of the tassels on Freya’s jeans signal her and the click of her heeled boots tell Calum she’s walking farther from him. The latch in the fence clicks and the wood around the hinges creak as she presses into the door. There’s a soft thud as the door shuts and then Calum can’t hear anything over the cough he uses to try and cover the tightness in his chest, can’t see anything in the blurry vision of his tears

She’s just gone.

******

When the front door bell sounds, Calum doesn’t think much of it. It could be a package or someone selling something. So he pushes up from the kitchen table and heads to the door. There on his porch is a light blue box with white bones on it. The subscription box that Calum gets already came. But then he notices an index card with a handwritten address on it. He picks it up. Right there in the return address is Freya’s name. He sucks in a breath and then looks to see who it’s addressed to: Duke Hood + Calum.

“Duke,” Calum calls out, stepping back inside to the house. He closes the door with his foot. The click of paws let him know the old man’s heard his call. “A little early birthday present has arrived just for you.”

He walks deeper into the living room and sets the box on the coffee table. Inside holds an olive green harness, treats, and a card. Calum laughs as Duke presses his snout against the bag of treats. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

Duke happily munches on one of the chews from the bag and Calum opens the card. A different letter slips out into his lap. He can see the ink and lettering pressing through to the other side. His heart hammers, but he forces himself to turn back to the card. “Dear Duke,” Calum pauses to see if Duke responds but his investigation continues on the treat. “I mean, fair enough.” Calum continues to read the card written by Freya, “Even though only the universe knows your true birthday, this card, harness, and bag of treats is meant to mark you sticking it out with your pops for yet another year. To spare you the grumps about a very cute hawaiin shirt I, instead, got a badass harness. Now you’ll be the coolest guy on the block. Happy Birthday/Adoption Day. With Love, Fre.”

Duke, done with the treat, looks to Calum and settles next in front of his folded legs. “Oh, so much work eating a treat.”

But Calum reaches down to gently pats at his tummy. The front of the car is cute, Calum finally recognizes. A cartoon white dog is drawn on it with large pink glasses against a yellow background. There’s no telling where she found it at. Calum looks down to the handwritten letter on printer paper. What would Freya possibly have to say?

Calum hadn’t had the guts to press send on any of the texts he drafted in the three months since they last talked. He wasn’t sure if he could. He is sure that if Freya hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, she would’ve said so, and she wouln’t have sent this box for Duke. His fingers tremble as he unfolds the letter.

Calum,

I figured you heard me tell Duke he was going to get a gift. And I knew I couldn’t not deliver on my promise to him. But I do apologize if it crosses any line. Please let me know too--if it crossed any boundaries.

I hope you’re well. Congrats on the latest album too.

With Love,

Freya.

P.S. I saw you a couple times drafting a text to me but never seeing one go through. And if you’re asking why I hadn’t sent a text either, know it was fear too. And me not being sure if keeping it open like that between us would only do more harm than good. So I’m sorry. But I am here, in the sense that to the best of my capacities, I can try to be here.

*****

Her bag’s slipping off her shoulders but she finally gets the key into the lock and gets her front door open. She sighs as she falls into the ugly blue apartment door and all but flings herself into her place. The stack of mail in her hands barely makes it to the edge of the kitchen counter too. It was just one of those days and Freya couldn’t be mad at herself. Everyone had days like this.

Putting her keys up and getting her backpack next to the couch, she settles into the stools at the kitchen counter to sort through the mail. One’s a bill from the dentist she visited a few weeks back. The one thing her student health insurance didn’t cover. But she couldn’t complain.

There are few junk flyers that she immediately tosses. And it’s her name scrawled in a almost all caps that catches her eyes before she even gets finished with the rest of the pile. In the top corner for the return address she catches the name: Calum Hood + Duke

“Mail from Duke, what a surprise.”

But the real surprise is Calum’s name. It’s just a plain white envelope with a stamp and the city mark it was mailed from. Freya pops it open and sees a sheet of legal pad paper folded up.

Freya,

Thank you for Duke’s gift. The chews are a hit. The harness is much appreciated for our walks. Though, I think they’re more like walks for me. And Duke gets a little exercise in before he tuckers out. But I don’t fault him. No lines were crossed. So no need to worry about that.

I think I like the idea of mailing letters more than I do like texting. But I understand. Doing the hard thing sucks. It always has and always will. Do what you need to for yourself.

Thank you. I wouldn’t normally do this. But there’s a couple songs--they’re about you. I wanted to give you a warning before you listen to it. If you listen to it, I guess I should say.

Best of luck with your last year of school. You’ll have that Master’s in no time and then maybe soon you can take over the Library of Congress like all your evil plans have laid out. (I know, I know. Not what your Library Studies degree does. But I still think you should.)

With Love,

Cal

Freya chuckles at the Library of Congress comment. She picks up her phone and finds Calum’s thread. It’s easy to want to tell him that she can’t take over the Library of Congress and that she’s glad the treats went over well and that the harness was really more of an accessory to make sure Duke looks like a badass.

But she knows--she knows the ease got her into a pickle before. It’s why she stopped things before they got more serious. But was fear going to always predict what she was going to do in her life? Maybe the ease of things was a sign to continue. But if what if things got too far? WOuld be able to handle Calum being gone? Would she inevitably get her heart broken? And sure no amount of contemplation can predict things like this, but she did want to play with that risk no matter how fucking easy it was in the moment.

With a frustrated sigh, Freya drops her face into the forearms. Her phone is still in her grip with the movement. “It’s never fucking easy is it!” she shouts into her apartment.

There’s silence that engulfs her and then her phone chimes. She doesn’t halfway pay attention to it but her phone almost never makes a sound because she keeps it on vibrate. “Who knows what I’ve done now?” she mutters but doesn’t look. Whatever it was she should explain it away for sure. “Why wasn’t there a guarantee money back or some shit with love? It would make life a hell of lot easier for fuck sake. I mean the reward was a lot bigger if I did decide to date Calum. But the fucking risk. Where’s a genie or some fortune teller when you needed it?”

With the frustration dissipating with every shout, she finally lifts her hand and looks to see what caused the noise. Her fingers slip across the screen and she watches a message lift up before settling down with the delivered underneath it. “Whoops,” she mutters. And starts drafting a message in response. Sorry, didn’t mean to send that. Was just venting and must’ve hit something in my blind rage.

She sets the phone down without another thought and then goes back to sorting out her mail, though she glances down at the yellow page that Calum wrote his letter. She’d all her best friend in a bit to talk it out with them. A buzz sound--no doubt some sort of alert. She listens for how many buzzes. A text coming through.

Turning over her phone, Freya reads who the text is from. The name barely registers before her heart goes into a frenzy. Calum--New iMessage. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, why is he texting me?”

A warranty on love is definitely a new concept. I assume you got my letter. You made it clear that you still weren’t sure where the boundaries were, I just wanted to say thanks. Or Duke did, I should say. You said you cherished our honesty and I’m going to be honest. I wrote a lot of different letters before sending the one I did. I’ve drafted a text to you nearly every day but never sent it because I didn’t want to put you in a predicament. But maybe we’re both at a point where maybe the risk might not be all that bad.

Freya exhales reading the text. How do you feel about splitting a pizza at my place tonight?

The message lifts and then settles again. The moments stretch for minutes. The bubble pops up and she watches the dots cycle from light to dark gray. I would love to.

Her hands shake and for a moment she wishes she hadn’t quit cigarettes. They weren’t good for her and she knows that. But god, right now with the shakes, she needs something to bring her down from the edge. The picks at her pinkie nail, leg bouncing. A knock at the door sounds and Freya freezes. The pizza’s already delivered, arrived maybe two or three minutes before this knock.

Another moment, maybe two passes, and then another knock sounds. She pushes up from the couch and heads to the door.

“Hi,” Calum exhales.

“Hi,” Freya returns. “Oh, come-come in.” She steps aside and waves Calum further inside.

As he steps through, he turns, keeping his back away from her. The door closes and he unveils a tiny pot, a greenish-purple plant staring back up at Freya. “I know you’re sensitive to flowering plants--like sunflowers or carnations. So I went to a local nursery, one that my gardeners recommended and one of the workers recommended succulents. They told me the name and I have absolutely no memory of what it is. Echev-I don’t know.”

Freya steps closer, gingerly taking the terracotta pot from him. It sits in the palm of her hand. “Echeveria. I think this one is a Black Prince.”

“Yeah, yeah, that.”

“Thank you.” It falls from her lips in a whisper. “Really, I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It shall live,” she says after a big exhale, “right here on the kitchen window sill.”

Calum grins a little watching her open the blinds to set the plant in. “How-how have you been?” He knows he came under the guise of pizza. But that’s not even close to the truth. So he closes the distance between them, crossing the kitchen. One hand settles on her hip.

Freya turns in the inch or two she has. His gaze is sincere but hesitant. Like there’s more he wants to say, but not sure if he can say it right now. His cheek is a little stubbly when she touches it, settles her palm into the warmth and squish of his face. She hadn’t expected seeing him in person would stir her gut like this. Maybe it’s because she was only giving excuses. Good ones, but still excuses. “Tell me something.”

“Anything.”

“When I asked you about what you say in your home 10 years into the future and you said wife, did you see me?”

It doesn’t shock him that she sussed it out. That even with his vague include of the term, Freya would still see between the lines. “Honestly?”

“I’m making you an honest man.”

“Yes.” He closes his eyes for a moment. Not out of shame or some need to hide from the truth. But to steel himself. “When I said wife, I pictured you. And two kids--who in my imagination definitely had your hair texture and that scared me.”

“Scared you?” Freya asks.

“I barely can do my own curls. Two daughters with your texture would feel like jumping into the deep end without a floaty.”

“But you, theoretically, wouldn’t have been in the deep end alone. Me, my hairstylist, my mom, and stepmom--a lot of Black women to teach you a thing or two. But specifically two daughters, huh?”

Calum nods, his second hand sliding up onto her right hip. He holds her waist and she holds onto his cheeks ever so gently. He smiles at her. “That’s not to say I didn’t ask to try for a son as a third. Now you tell me something.”

“Scouts honor.”

“Can you really give into the risk? If you can’t, I will walk out of here right now and I won’t bother you again. Because above everything, I want what’s best for you. As much as it’ll hurt not have you again, we can’t keep going back and forth. It’s not good for either one of us.”

Freya knows he’s right. Would she regret giving Calum up a second time? Was the universe trying to give her the ever elusive second chance? Getting into a defined relationship with Calum meant she would have to figure out what to do after graduation and if had to leave would he be able to handle that? Was the chance of heartbreak worth the moments of bliss?

“I want my PhD--and I don’t know where that’s going to take me. I might be leaving California and that would be years, Calum. Years of me in a different state. And I don’t know, California doesn't feel like the end game for me. And that could just be the now talking. Who knows? But a lot is in motion and uncertain right now, does that change how you feel? Because maybe--maybe I can take the risk for a few moments of bliss.”

Calum’s knees almost give up on him, but he squeezes her to keep himself steady. “When I said I wanted as much of you as I could have before you left, I meant it. I absolutely meant every word of it. I meant I would take days, hours, decades if I could with you.The last time I even thought about daydreaming about a girl was so fucking long ago. And when you asked me about my future, it shocked even me to see you. That’s when I knew. I knew I was a fucking goner.”

“But I don’t know if I can give all that to you.”

“I’ll take what I can get it, Freya. And I am sure that in the future one of two things is going to happen: it will either hurt like hell when you leave or we get more time. I don’t know how much more. But I do know that those are the two options. And I will gladly embrace whichever one of them comes our way.”

Freya doesn't miss the inclusion of the plural. “Our way,” she teases with a grin, stretching up just a little. “Our way, huh?”

“Yes, our way.” Calum watches just how close she gets before she pauses. Her breath tickles over his skin. “Now, either we’re kissing and then eating pizza, or we’re kissing and then--”

Freya’s lip sealing around his cuts off the sentence. They exhale into each other, Calum pressing in closer and pinning her to the edge of the counter. Freya slides up against his chest just a hair, hands sliding up and then tying her arms around his neck. As they part, Calum rests his forehead against hers. “What’s tomorrow?”

“Thursday. Why do you ask?”

“Because I wanted to gauge if I could keep you up until 3 AM again,” Calum giggles. “But not about a competition this time. Like possibly pissing off your neighbors.”

“But I have the 8 am shift at the office.”

“And homework that you’d kill me for keeping you from.”

“Not quite murder, but there is a paper I have about 5 pages left on and should submit because it is like a third of my grade.”

“But Friday night?”

“I’m free--I traded a Monday evening shift earlier this week to get Friday off.”

Calum kisses her, soft and slow. It makes his whole body electric, to feel her relax into his touch. “Friday night then.”

“Before a night of debauchery, do you think we should talk? What happens if it’s too much or not working?” Freya doesn’t want to be the barrier of bad news. But she does like having a plan, a clear path to follow.

Calum’s not way to think too hard about things, to worry about things until they come up. But he knows Freya’s not like him. Clearing his throat, Calum holds up his pinkie. “This a pinkie swear that on Friday when you come over to my place for a night of debauchery, we will talk all about contingency plans.”

“You make it sound--”

“No, I know. You want the air clear and you want it clear sooner rather than later. And though, I normally am very much against a lot of the feelings talk. But for fuck sake, I already admitted that I thought about marrying you, so I don’t think now is the moment to shy away from it.”

“When you put it like that.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Freya hooks her pinkie around his. “But it is Wednesday. So, pizza and then if you want to stay after you can, I’ll just be working on that paper.”

“If you don’t mind the company, I would love to stay.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

[r-lsmi0426]

It's fine when I post stories, share and like someone's post and watch reels. Trying to make one. It's all on a chill mode. But it only takes a slight moment. The body starts shivering, suddenly it feels like it's all burden. Too much anger out of nowhere. But tears break up while having many loose ends. I beat my thigh with my bare fists. Lol. It's like making my thigh red or trying to bring the pain in my fists. Both are useless.

My dad has to work on the computer most of the time. He is not a funny guy even though he thinks he is. He watches some funny videos, sometimes some speeches or any live reporting. He always asks what I am doing. Then he tells something usual like about social work or something. He knows that I get angry fast. He doesn't talk to me, just watches me when I drag the fingernail so hard on the glass of windows that it doesn't make any sound. He then tells don't hurt yourself. So, I stop. But sometimes I still can't find myself regretting thinking of hitting his skull with that hammer. You know at this point you can call me inhumane or crazy.

Many people call us losers. Basically for not focusing on life and career and more on passion. Please don't feel awkward if you have done that. I tell you why cuz I've called people like me loser too. Now, you might be thinking that how could I say that. It's more like bragging about the sky is the limit after a beer than realising after a peg of a local drink. Understanding the significance of life is crucial but handling the emotional breakdowns is way different from person to person. It's not always the situation that changes us. It's the feeling of our self intuitions seeming to be happening.

We know how wonderful is the pleasure and the respect we receive working on our passion. It's our anger, the anxiety and the depression on which we don't have any control. You know, my dad still will call me his small boy. I know I can't justify anything. But I don't deserve to hear words that refer to me not being a human. We can change. We will get treatments. But we need you to treat us right. We love you all. Don't hate us.

[connordavidscamera]

Make it to Christmas | Connor Brashier

A/n: I really love this one, guys. It’s one of my favorite.

Summary: We find out the real story behind Alessia’s song.

Word count: 3.3k

***

Italics - Connor’s POV

Regular - y/n’s POV

Bold italics - lyrics

TWO YEARS  AND THREE MONTHS AGO

Alessia’s running her fingers through my hair, while Liv rubs my calves, both of them trying to get me to stop crying, but it’s unfortunately not working very well. “What do you mean it’s over? Y/n, did he say that?”

“No. But we’ve barely talked since we left tour. He doesn’t return my calls, he sends one or two word responses to my texts. It’s over, guys. I know it is. He’s getting more and more distant by the day and not just physically. I mean, we’re literally on separate sides of the world right now. But he’s emotionally distant.” I sniffle. “God, if we can just make it through the holidays. Or at least to Chrstimas. I don’t care about New Years.”

“What are you talking about? Why do you need to make it to then?”

“Because I can’t face telling my dad,” I take in a shuddery breath. “I can’t handle telling him why Connor’s not there. And I don’t - I don’t need my mom telling me that she knew I was falling too fast. I don’t need it, Les.”

“Okay, okay. Shh…” She rubs my shoulder.

“Come on, sweetie. He loves you. Call him.”

I shake my head. He doesn’t. We’ve been together barely six months, but neither of us have uttered those words yet. “I don’t think this is something we can talk through. The distance, physically,” I wipe at my eyes, “emotionally. It’s too much. The feelings have grown cold. It’s not it anymore.”

“For him or for you?” Liv asks and that hits me hard. 

“I don’t know.”

“Then maybe… just maybe. You need to ask him. You can’t put it off, y/n. Say you make it to the holidays, what happens then? You’re going to be miserable. It’ll be worse than having to explain why he’s not there physically if he’s not there emotionally, like you say.”

“Guys, I’m scared. I really care about him.”

“I know you do,” Alessia says and I sit up. “We care about him too. But we care about your feelings more. You can’t be in a relationship if your heart’s not in it. And based off this?” she gestures to me - I know I probably look a mess, tear stains on my cheeks, eyes red and puffy. “I can for sure say that, at the very least, your heart is still in it. You guys just need to try a little harder.”

“I guess I could try to try.”

“I think you should. Your relationship is too special to just fizzle out after just six months.” Five months and twenty-two days, I think, but don’t say because I think that hurts more. Knowing it hasn’t even been half a year and he’s sick of me. 

---

“Brashier, we’re going out for drinks, you coming?” Brian slid the curtain to my bunk out of the way, letting the dim light filter through.

“Um, no. I was gonna call y/n. Haven’t talked in a while.”

“What’s a while? This morning?Come on. She’ll understand. It’s one of our last nights in Asia, let’s party.”

“Brian, I really -”

“Whipped.”

“What?” I say, honestly a little aggravated with Brian. It’s clear he’s already had a drink or two, his face already turning red from the alcohol

“You’re so whipped. Fine, call your girlfriend. Text us if you change your mind.”

I roll my eyes and remove my finger from hovering over my girl’s photo. “Give me five minutes,” I cave. I’ll call her in the morning, I tell myself. But I don’t call her in the morning. Or in the afternoon. I don’t call her for three more days and she doesn’t seem too mad at me. In fact, she seems happy to be talking to me. Which means that maybe I haven’t messed up too bad. I’m grateful.

“How’s tour going, baby?” I ask her over the phone. I tried to FaceTime her but she claimed that the girls were sleeping and she didn’t want to wake them. So she’s whispering to me in the common area while I lay in bed, away from the loud guys just outside the door. 

“Good. The crowds are amazing. Singing every word with Les. That girl knows how to work a room.”

“So do you,” I say with a smirk and I wish I could see her blush. She always blushes when I say something like that. But she doesn’t say anything about my not so subtle compliment.

“How’s everything there? The guys are loud.”

I sigh, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. They’re still on their post concert high.”

“Why aren’t you with them?”

“Because I’m talking to you,” I state as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“Go hang out, Connor. It’s okay. I’ll still be here when you’re not busy.”

“But I’m not,” I insist. “I want to talk to you. Come on, baby. Tell me about your day. I want to know everything.”

“No, go. The month is gonna og by so fast, you’re gonna wish you had spent these nights with them. It’s okay.”

“Yeah, but that just means I get closer to seeing you.”

“Mhm… I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay… I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Yep. Bye.” She hangs up and I’m left dumbfounded. There’s something wrong and I wish she would tell me what.

---

A MONTH LATER

“Did you see Connor’s story?” I hear Liv ask Alessia when I’m just opening my eyes from my less than decent sleep. 

“Yeah, he’s on his way home.”

“Does y/n know?”

“I think so.”

“Does she know he’s coming to the -”

“Shh… no. She doesn’t.”

“What about the s-?”

“Absolutely not. And could you keep it down? I don’t want her to hear. I don’t want her upset.”

“She hasn’t said anything about him in a while. You don’t think they’ve broken up, do you?”

“No,” I assure she shakes her head, “She would have told us. We just have to make it to Friday. All will be fixed then.”

“Are you sure?”

“God, I hope so.”

“Y/n. I think I left my earphones on the bus.” Alessia says when we get in the dressing room at the arena.

“You want me to get them?” I ask, putting her makeup bag down on the vanity they have set up. 

“Can you please? I have to go soundcheck. I don’t want to be late.”

“Sure. Need anything else?”

“No. Thank you though. And don’t rush.”

“Alright, I’ll be back.”

“Surprise!” I say from the doorway, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed when I didn’t see my girl in the room.

“Connor! You’re early. I thought you were just coming for the concert.” Liv said, looking from me to Alessia and back to me. 

“Wanted to surprise my girl. Where is she?”

“She’s uh, not here right now. She went to the bus to get something.”

I nod, “Well can I wait for her?”

“While I know she’d love that, I think you should wait.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, she doesn’t know that you’re gonna be at the concert tonight. I think it’d be a nice surprise for then,” Liv says. 

“Actually, I think now would be a good time.” Alessia nods. “Come with me real quick. I think we can make it to the bus before she leaves.”

“Les, what are you doing?” Liv asks. 

“I have something for them. Come on, Connor.” She takes my hand and rushes me out to her sitting tour bus.

“Les, is she okay? She hasn’t been in a very talkative mood recently.” I ask when we walk out of the building. I squint at the bright sun that’s doing a great job of blinding me. 

“She will be. You just have to trust me.”

“Hey, I couldn’t find them. What are you - Connor?” Y/n stops in her tracks a few feet in front of us. 

“Surprise.” I move from my place behind Alessia and hold my arms open for my girl. It takes a second and that worries me, but she falls into me anyway. “Got you speechless, huh?” I chuckle, even though it hasn’t been that hard to get her not to talk. 

“What are you doing here?” she asks, pulling away far sooner than I would have wanted. 

“I came to see you,” I say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’ I missed my girlfriend and I wanted to see her. We’re finally in the same place again, I had to take advantage of that.”

She nods, not looking me in the eyes. “Okay.”

“Did you… not want me here?” 

“No! No, it’s not that. I just, I don’t know, I thought you’d have other things to do.”

“Nothing but seeing you.”

“Hey guys, I don’t really want to interrupt this… reunion. But I need both of your opinions on a song I’m working on. I want to have it out for Christmas.��

“Okay?” We both respond, following Les to the bus. I sit next to y/n, who sits near to the window in the small booth; Alessia sits in front of us with her computer between us all. 

“What’s the song about?” Y/n asks and I reach for her hand that’s clasped in her lap. 

“You.”

“Me?”

“And you.”

“Me?” my eyes widen. 

“Just listen, okay? I’m not releasing it unless you guys give the okay.” She hits play and we all wait for the lyrics to start. 

We were warm and wonderful / once upon a time / but now we’re frozen / hanging by a thread

My heart drops hearing the words. This is not what I think it is. 

Can we wait a minute / or can we just try to try / cause my favorite day is coming up ahead / darling I know that our love is growing cold 

No. “Y/n?” I look over at her see she’s looking down, tears splashing onto her lap. 

And hold on a little longer / don’t have me spending it alone / this time of year is precious / please / can we make it to Christmas? / can we make it to Christmas?

We’re barely a minute into the song  and I’m already crying. When I told her how I felt about our relationship, I didn’t think she would make a song out of it. 

Don’t know what I’ll say to dad when he sees the empty chair / don’t want to hear my mom say “told you so”

God, this just keeps getting worse. My shoulders are shaking, I’m crying so hard and I have nowhere to escape to. I’m stupid for sitting on the inside of the booth. 

And I don’t want to be angry at mistletoe

The loud click of the space bar is what fills my ears next, and then his voice. “Y/n? What’s going on? Are you - do you want to break up?”

I can only shake my head. “No,” I manage to let out. I thought,” I sniffle, “I thought you wanted to break up.”

“What? No. Never. Why would you think that?” 

I look up at him and his eyes are bluer than I’ve ever seen them; it hurts. “We weren’t talking. You never called, answered my texts. And when we did talk, it was just a ‘how’s your day? How’s tour?’ I was - I was scared. I thought you were already tired of me.”

“Sweetheart, no. I - I couldn’t,” he takes my face in his hands. “I’m not.”

“Then what happened? Why weren’t we talking? I know we’re on tour, but that didn’t stop us before.”

He sighs, pressing his forehead against mine. “This is - this is my first real relationship. Well, not real, I guess, but this is the first time I’ve ever been in love. Like completely, undeniably in love.”

I pull away from him. “What?”

“What? What’d I say?”

“You’re in love with me?”

“You didn’t,” he stops and looks down, scoffing. “God, I’m the worst boyfriend ever.”

“What? No, Connor.”

“You didn’t even know I was in love with you. I’m a horrible boyfriend!” He holds his head in his hands. “Hey, look we can fix this.” He quickly takes my hand back. “Please, love. Tell me it’s not too late to fix this. I know it’ll work. I just need to try harder. I’m gonna try harder, okay? I’m not about to let this love grow cold. Okay? I’m not.”

I sigh and rest my forehead on his shoulder. “Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

---

TODAY

“Is this the last of the boxes? I thought we had more.” I look around us, seeing only tree boxes, and two of them weren’t even full. 

“Well we did have to get rid of a lot during the move. And there’s also that box that Brian dropped that had the lights and most of the ornaments.”

“Oh yeah. So we need to go get some.”

“We do,” he nods, “But let’s see what we already have before we go crazy on the decorations, yeah?”

I nod, “Yeah.”

“Let me get the tree out of the garage.”

“Hey bub?” I say before he leaves the room.

“Yep?”

“Can we get a real tree this year? I mean, we weren’t allowed to at our apartments, but - there’s no rule that says we can’t do it here.”

He chuckles and comes closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “You just want to go shopping, don’t you?”

I shrug, “Maybe a little bit.”

He hums before pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose. “Okay. Go get your jacket.”

I smile wide, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go, I’ll start the car.”

“Jesus, how many mistletoe did you buy?” I exclaim, pulling one after another out of the bag.”

“Like twelve.”

“For what? We don’t need that many.”

“Yes,” he nods, taking the mistletoe from the table. “One for every entry in the house. You’re not getting out of kissing me this year.”

I feel my face heat up. He knows I can’t say no to tradition. “You’re something else.”

“Well thank you.” He holds one above our heads when he steps closer. “Now, where’s my kiss?”

I tsk. “Guess you forgot to buy twelve of those at the store, huh?” I joke and his jaw drops.

“Y/n!” He whines.

I laugh, “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Come here, blue eyes.” I take his face in both my hands and kiss his lips once. “Now we should probably go get that tree.”

“Ah, no you don’t,” he takes my wrist and pulls me back. “You owe me eleven more kisses.”

“How about we spread them out?”

“We can spread something out,” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

I laugh, “How about after we put the decorations up, love?”

He sighs with an over exaggerated eye roll. “Fine.”

I take my phone out of my pocket and connected it to our speaker on the kitchen counter. I take just a second to get our Christmas playlist up and then Connor and I are on a roll, hanging mistletoe, dressing the tree in lights and tinsel. The room comes together nicely. 

“Right here?” Connor asks, after spacing out the stockings. I tilt my head to the side and squint, “A little to the right. It’s too close to Shawn’s.”

“Remind me again. Why did we buy stockings for them? It’s not like they’re going to be here for Christmas anyway.”

“Right and do you want to explain that to them on Saturday, or should I?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know they’re coming over! It was your idea. Shawn, Brian, Alessia, Liv, Sam. They’re all coming over because you wanted the gang together one last time before the holidays took us all away from each other.”

He rolls his eyes, “Was I on something? Because that doesn’t sound like me.”

“You were a little drunk, yeah. But that doesn’t mean it’s not happening. I already told everyone when to show up and what to bring. Which reminds me, we need to get Christmas themed pajamas.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a pajama party, genius.”

“Was that also my idea?”

“Yep.”

Jesus, keep me away from the alcohol then because I’m not making that same mistake again.”

“Oh, that reminds me, too. We need to get a bottle or two of wine for your parents’ Christmas party.”

He smiles fondly at me, and I shrink under his gaze. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just thinking about how lost I’d be without you.”

I’m blushing, I know I am, and I don’t know how he still manages to get me to do that. “Well,” I clear my throat, “I need to get Les’s stocking. I’ll be right back.” I sift through the last couple of bags on the dining room table that we still hadn’t gone through, finding the last two stocking we needed.  I pull the tags off and walk back into the living room just as the song changes. 

The familiar notes fill my ears and I’m suddenly taken back to where we were two years ago.

We were warm and wonderful / once upon a time / and now we’re frozen / hanging by a thread

I’m laying down, my head in Alessia’s lap, crying about Connor. Then Connor and I are speaking less and less, the phone calls getting shorter, more meaningless by the day. I’m crying myself to sleep in the bunk. Les is drying my tears, Liv is holding my hair back from the one time I made myself so worried that I was literally worried sick. Then we’re there on the bus; Connor, Alessia, and me, all in that booth. The song is playing. I’m crying. Connor’s looking at me with that awful, heartbreaking expression on his face and I can’t take it. I want it to stop. I need it to stop. It was so long ago. We’re over it now. We’re here.

---

“Y/n? Baby, you okay?” I question, taking her hands in mine. She’s pale and her eyes are red with threatened tears. Her eyes snap closed and she shakes her head, the first tear falling. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. Talk to me, baby. What’s going on?” I take her in my arms, resting her head on my chest, smoothing out her hair. 

“The song,” I hear her murmur and I listen, just now realizing that I had completely tuned out the festive music playing through the house. 

Darling, I know that our love is growing cold / there’s just something ‘bout the snow / this time of year that makes us  lose our way / just say we’ll make up / and hold on a little longer / don’t have me spending it alone / this time of year is precious / break my heart on boxing day / just please / can we make it to Christmas?

I sigh and bring her even closer. Sure, the song has that upbeat feel to it, and yes we let Les release it, because despite what it was about, it’s a great song. But I know why she’s sad now. No one else besides us knows the process of it. No one knows that the could struggling to make it to Christmas was us. And that hurts us both.

“It’s okay, little bear. I’ve got you.”

“I hate knowing we went through that,” she whimpers into my chest. 

“I know. I do too. But just look on the bright side.”

“What’s that?” she sniffles, holding my waist tighter. 

“We made it,” I whisper into her hairline, and press a gentle kiss to her temple. “We made it to Christmas.”

***

I hope you enjoyed! Like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

Tag: @sunrise-shawn @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson @lifeoftheparty74 @shawnssongs @luvluvxx @foreveralone19588 @shawnandconnor @5-seconds-of-mendes @emma-manuhpe @nedthegay @shawnsblue

Connor Tag: @shawnm521 @divinginfearlessly @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @bettroff @myyohmyuohmyy @madison-malfoy @shawnieeboyy @mutuallynotmutual @tinycertain @rockstarshawnmendes @lostinmendess @sunrisebrashx @alinaxxshawn @heart-struck @ilsolee

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 69: Nice

Chapters: 69/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: 

Relationships: Loki x Reader 

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Bucky (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Loki Has A Worse Time,

Summary:  You find yourself in an explosive situation. Loki figures some things out, and so do you.

You floated through nothing, bathed in sparkling blue light. Loki held your hand, pulled along behind you, staring into the azure cascade with gentle joy.

Forever forever forever

Til death do you part

The words pulsed inside you, so deep down that it was more like a feeling than a voice. What did it mean?

You knew you were going to be linked to Loki for the rest of your life. If he hadn't figured out how to sever that connection yet, he never would. But this beautiful light seemed to promise more.  More than your life. Adventure. Knowledge beyond your world. Power. Romance. The high and exciting life you had always dreamed of. Or safety. Love. Comfort. The stable and idyllic life that you really wanted. You could have it all, if you would just... Learn me learn me learn me “I'm trying.” You were. You had been. You were grasping your power. You were discovering your romance. Your love and comfort. You were gaining that knowledge, you had tasted adventure, and weren't sure that it was to your liking. Still seeking that safety and stability though. Perhaps it was holding your hand right now, gazing serenely into the light. Perhaps it was the light itself, bathing both of you in such glory. You stretched you arm out toward it. Closer. Closer. If you could just grasp it, you would have everything you ever wanted. If you could just understand it. If you could just learn it. But Loki was tugging your other hand now, slowing your progress. You looked back at him in confusion. His face, no longer suffused with contentment, now showed concern. He wanted you to stop. But you were so close now! So close...it was just right there! If you just...reached...a little further... He was pulling hard, like he did when he was trying to keep you out of the dream-void, but the void was no longer there. Now it was just the light. Your fingers just barely brushed its center. The light resolved itself into a brilliant sapphire blue crystal, rough but pure. It screamed for you, and Loki screamed for you, and with a final push, you closed your hand around the gem.

Knowledge flooded you. Light and power flooded you, more than you could ever hold. Your physical body disintegrated into light, and like a tiny Bifrost, you scattered across the universe.

                                                                               *****

You awoke screaming, flailing out of your bed, tearing at your blankets. Light filled your eyes, blinded you. You could feel runes marching up and down your body in blazing trails, like fire ants. It was too much!

Your brain pounded at your skull, too big to fit. The mark on your hand seared down to the bone. Too much!

Your whole body contorted with the overload of energy. Your stomach twisted and lurched.

Too much, too much, too much!

You shrieked again, and a pulse of magical energy burst from you. Everything in your room lifted, began flying around. Things crashed into the walls, through the walls, through the window. The door ripped from its hinges.

You heard Loki shout, heard Andsvarr's distressed cry, and more crashing, in the hallway and beyond. How far would it carry?

Loki appeared in your ruined doorway, just as your sight faded back in. His body coruscated with runes, both eyes blacked out, save for the bright glowing blue of his irises. Did you look like that right now?

But with the power released, your body relaxed, your stomach calmed. Finally, you collapsed, shivering, and Loki scooped you up into his scintillating arms, the runes already fading.

“I will go fetch a healer!” Andsvarr exclaimed, and rushed off down the hall. Loki carried you through the little library, past skewed shelves and fallen books, to his room, in which a dresser now rested on its side, a mirror toppled.

He lay you down on his bed, making sure to give you the pillow you preferred to use. He up-righted a chair and sat next to the bed, clasping your hand in his.

“Do you know what happened?” He asked. “Are you hurt?”

“I don't think so.” You said weakly. “Not injured at least. It hurt, but not now.”

“Do you remember anything?”

“Not really. A dream. Light. Flying. Trying to reach something and then...too much light, too much energy. Do you remember?”

“No.” He said quickly. “Don't worry about it right now. Just rest.”

Bjarkhild arrived, looking as if she had been hastily roused, and gave you a quick look over.

“There doesn't seem to be any damage to your body, though your mark looks freshly burned. I want you to see me tomorrow, so I might see it more clearly. You are suffering magic fatigue, but I think his Highness might be able to do something about that. Gently.” She said, giving Loki a stern glare. “She is in no shape for more...energetic activities.”

Loki looked away sharply. It might have just been the firelight, but his face looked red.

“I will care for her according to her needs.” He said with as much dignity as he could muster.

After Bjarkhild left, Loki crawled into bed with you, snuggling close with one arm around you protectively.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“I will be. The fatigue always feels better when you're close.” You wished you had a better handle on it though.

“Yes. But...are you okay?” He asked again. You could see the worry not quite hidden behind his eyes.

“No. No, I really don't think I am. I don't feel right. I feel like I should be screaming right now, or something. Why aren't I screaming?”

“Because I am here to protect you.” Loki declared. “I'm here. I'm here forever.”

Forever forever forever

Til death do you part.

What did it mean? Half-remembered words and blue light.

“Are you upset about the giant too?” Loki asked.

“Of course I am! He was right there! And he tried to kill me! And then you killed him! Right in front of me!”

“Well, technically Thor killed him.” Loki began.

“I should feel worse than this. I could have tried talking to him, but I just jumped up on a table with my knife. What did I think he was gonna do? I should have done something else. I should be freaking out, but I'm not.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of that.” Loki said. “It seems to me that you are, but you are being less up front about it. Like one of your computers. A 'freak out' program running in the background, sucking up all of your processing power.”

“Loki, this isn't...you know, I want to say that this isn't a joke, but that's a good analogy? I'm so worried, I can't think. I'm scared it's going to happen again. That lady in the ice. We're going to dig her out, and then what? You have to know she's gonna hate us. Last she knew, we were the enemy. And what if that was her guy? What if he was the kids dad?”

“I have it on very good authority that he was not.” Loki assured you. “He left behind some information that let us know, at least vaguely, who they are. The child is, presumably from a noble family, and the woman, her caretaker. The woman might be a threat; she is still ten feet tall, after all. However, and I hate to put this so callously, she will soon see that she has little choice but to cooperate. There's not really anywhere else for her to go. As for the girl...no one will harm her. She's not a warrior, she's just an innocent child.”

“Yeah, but will everyone else see it that way...Loki?” His face had suddenly gone crimson, lips pressed tightly together. “What's wrong?”

“There is this curse.” He muttered. “It says that when you get to a certain age, you will find yourself opening your mouth, and your father will come out.”

“Yeah, we have that saying too. Why?”

“No reason.”

Right.

“But you understand, right? Why I feel like this about...feeling like this? I don't want this to become normal. I don't want to get used to this kind of thing.”

“Fear not.” Loki said soothingly. “There will be no more killing of Frost Giants, and hopefully no more Asgardian deaths while you live.” He pressed a kiss to your temple.

“But you understand?”

“I understand. Now rest.”

You were exhausted. You let yourself drift off to sleep, feeling just a tiny bit better about things. As long as he understood, it would be all right. As long as he understood.

                                                                         *****

“I just don't understand!” Loki complained into his phone. He sat, naked and dripping in front of the bathroom mirror, on a call with Barnes, the only human he believed to be capable of helping him comprehend the bizarre nuances of human cultures and relations. “She has seen death before. She has been in battle. She's defended herself. We're teaching her how to fight. But there is this resistance in her. She doesn't want to get better. She doesn't want to overcome this fear. It is part of my duties to help her face war with a still and steely heart, if need be. But she wants to remain soft.”

“Well yeah, that makes sense.” Barnes said from his end of the line. “Nobody likes war.”

“A single glance at your species' history shows that to be a lie.”

“Yeah, okay, we do fight a lot. But nobody actually wants to go to war. Well, except the people who make money off it, but they aren't the ones actually going into battle. No one else likes it. Why do you think we invented so many machines for it?”

“So you do it all the time, but you hate it?” Loki tried to reason out. “Then why do it so much?”

“Because a lot of us are greedy SOB's who don't give a shit about anyone else, and those are the kinds of people who usually grab up leadership positions. But for someone like her, peace is the ideal. For her, getting used to violence means she can more easily perpetuate it, and she wouldn't want that.”

“She wouldn't want to slay her enemies swiftly and cleanly, so that she can go back to peacetimes?”

“No, she wouldn't see it that way. To her, the act of killing would end peace forever, because that act would just stay with her forever.”

Loki paused for a moment, rolling this over in his head. The contradictory nature of humans. You'd punched him before; when you were afraid. Had you felt guilty when you had done that? Was it normal behavior for you, or a product of everything you had been through?

“Look, I know it doesn't make sense. But we're different than you guys. Our brains, I mean. We're really not supposed to be doing this. It messes us up pretty bad. And you can't forget that she's seen some pretty terrible things, too. I mean, you and I were soldiers. Well, sorta. Weren't you?”

“In a way.” Loki said. “Asgard was in a state of relative peace through most of my life, but we did muster to the defense of our protectorates fairly regularly. As soon as I was old enough, I was sent with our warriors to direct them, and fight alongside them. I wasn't rank and file, but I've led armies, and I've been in battles.”

“Yeah, well she hasn't. Your experiences and hers are extremely different. This isn't something she was brought up to, so it's not surprising that it repulses her.”

“So...I should be preserving her pacifist nature.” Loki said slowly. “Rather than encouraging her to move past it?”

“Maybe. Maybe that's what she wants.”

“But I want to keep her safe. She's already been exposed to so much danger. And this is a time of upheaval for us; there will only be more.”

“And I'm not saying to make her stop learning how to defend herself, I'm just saying to be sympathetic. She's culturally different than you. She's going to react differently to things than you do, and this is a big difference between you. Don't just brush it off.”

“Right.” Peace was the ideal, violence was an abhorrent last resort, and compassion was a precious treasure. Even if you struggled with them sometimes, these were important facets of your being.

“Got that straightened out, your Highness? Can I go back to bed now?”

“Er, yes. Thank you for this.”

After they had said their goodbyes, Loki remained in front of the mirror. There were some other things to think about. He held out his hand, the Space Stone, wrapped in its icy containment, sat in his palm. Blue spread down his arm, over his body. This was the only use of his native Jotun magic that he currently employed, and it 'revealed' him whenever he held the frozen sphere for more than a moment.

“Just what are you up to?” Loki mused.

Why should the Stone be appearing in your dreams? Was it the source of the blue light that was so often featured in them? Did that mean it had been there all along? Why?

The possibility shed a new and disturbing light on some of the events of those dreams. How you sometimes seemed to be listening-even responding to-a voice he could not hear. How you sometimes brought physical objects out of those dreams of far away places. The dust and dried leaf from Titan, the snow from Jotunheim. As if you had in some way actually been there. Maybe you had. But how? And again, why?

And most worrisome, was it actually possible for you to free the stone from its containment, through dreams, and bring it back out into the world, out of his possession? Was that what it had been trying to do?

But you couldn't handle it. In the dream, you had shattered into beams of light. He hadn't wanted to tell you.

Did it want freedom? The stone was not...often... malignant. It seemed to enjoy being used. It liked to make things, to empower things. Was it bored?

Perhaps he ought to take it to work on the Bifrost a bit more often.

He heard a choked off gasp from the bath chamber door, turned just in time to see you retreat. Heard you run down the hall and out of his quarters entirely.

Well, that was familiar. But it wasn't as if you hadn't seen him naked in the bath before, so why-

Blue light, blue stone, blue skin, blue him!

You had seen.