#alex was somehow the easiest to draw out of everyone

[spookypalace]

worship the flame - chapter seven

Jo peaks a look at him once or twice as he’s ordering a list of drinks, she’s certain he catches her as pink lips curve into a smirk. Brown eyes meet for a final time before he steps away, and she wonders—maybe her dry spell would end.

—

Or the one where Jo meets Alex in a bar, during her final year of med school.

(if you would rather read on ao3, you can do here)

Their final week off before the remainder of med-school had gone by in a blur, after the horrific dinner with Lexie’s parents, both Jo and Lexie decided the rest of their week would be low-key. Whilst Steph and Leah had preferred the idea of spending their evenings and mornings in the clubs of Seattle, Jo just really didn’t have the energy or the money to get dressed up and throw money at an overpriced bar. So, the two girls spent most of the time back at their apartment, a few nights at Joe’s. There was once or twice Jo ventured over to Alex’s, but only when Lexie was at Jacksons—the apartment felt lonely without them.

For Jo, what had been surprising, is the new-found friendship that had begun between Jackson and Alex. It almost made her laugh. Since the dinner with Thatcher, the two men had seemingly found that they got on pretty well. In fact, if Alex wasn’t at work or with Jo—he was with Jackson. Popping out to the grocery store and coming back to find them sat on the couch, cold beer in hands and some game of football blaring on the old television, had initially been a shock for her. But now it was a regular occurrence.

Honestly, she hadn’t realized how much of an effect seeing him so comfortable in her space had on her until every time she looked at Alex, she felt her stomach do a somersault and warmth to spread up her neck and across her cheeks. And that was just by gazing at him. Jo found herself looking towards Alex when she knew he was in the room and smiling whenever he did the same or when she heard his laugh. Within less than a handful of days, her feelings for Alex had gone from platonic and purely physical to something a lot more that she was way too hesitant on properly identifying. She was still trying to figure out how the hell this transpired.

How had it happened so fast? In the blink of an eye, it felt like. One moment Jo and Alex are promising they will not have feelings for one another and the next she’s willing her erratic heart to calm the hell down at the mere sight of Alex. It was crazy how feelings for someone snuck up on you and how hard they hit you, and the realization Jo had that she liked Alex as more than just a sex … friend had left her breathless. Although, she’s unsure if it’s the good or bad kind because while Alex had become one of the best guys she knew, he was also unavailable. He’d told her that much at the very beginning. And she had promised it was not a problem. Until it was.

God, Jo felt pathetic.

What was just as bad is now that she was painfully aware of her not-so-platonic feelings for Alex, she found herself subtly and as discreetly as she could manage avoiding any one-on-one time with him—unless they were, of course, having sex. She had grown to love hanging out with Alex, but now she can’t help but be super conscious of how she acted around him and had this fear that she’ll somehow let it slip that she’s attracted to him, and she couldn’t have that. Although it was hard, Alex had been spending an increasing amount of time at her place and with Jackson—just lounging on her couch or in her bed. All plans, unless they didn’t require clothing, now always accompanied Lexie and Jackson, with the odd appearance of Steph and Leah.

“Hey, you wanna go to the movies in a few?” Jo’s shoulders tensed ever so slightly at the sound of Alex’s voice, glancing at him over her shoulder from where she stood by the counter in the kitchen preparing a Nutella sandwich. He was popping his head in from behind the entryway wall, upper half curling into the kitchen as his gaze remained on her. “Jackson and Lexie want to go see that film that you guys were talking about the other day, I know you said you wanted to see it. We can leave now and catch all of the trailers,” he added, after hearing of Jo’s love of wanting to see every preview before the movies.

Oh, God, that sounded a lot like a real double date. Or maybe Jo was just overreacting, as always, but she didn’t want to risk it. Knowing Jackson and Lexie, they’d be wrapped up in each other during the movie leaving Jo and Alex by themselves, and that totally went against her poorly thought-out, dumb plan of keeping a some-what distance from him. Even if she really did want to watch the movie.

“Oh, um,” she blinked, neck tensing at the expectant raise of Alex’s eyebrows. “I would but I’m really tied. I was actually gonna’ take a nap after eating this,” she lied, gesturing to the sandwich as she quickly turned around and put the two pieces of bread together and capped the jar of Nutella.

Alex glanced at her sandwich, eyebrows lowering into a slight frown as a confused chuckle escaped him and he stepped around the wall to lean against it. “Seriously? Lexie said you’ve been dying to see that movie since the trailer came out.”

“Yeah, I’ll just watch it online or something, I still have some studying ...” Jo shrugged nonchalantly her words dying on her lips, dropping the dirty knife in the sink with a clang. “But you have fun.”

“Have fun?” Alex scoffed, a smile tugging at his lips as he shot me a look. “I’m gonna’ be third wheeling with your friends.” When his lower lip jutted out slightly, the action instantly drawing her gaze to his mouth, Jo’s stomach clenched as Alex prodded, “Are you sure you don’t wanna’ come?”

Jo inhaled quietly, pressing her lips together in an apologetic smile as she moved to walk out of the kitchen, having to walk towards Alex since he was right at the entryway. “Sorry, Alex,” she responded, sandwich in hand. “Take one of your roommates.”

When she was right next to him, Alex turned his head to look down at her, eyes light with mirth as he told her, “They’re not nearly as fun as you.”

Oh, fucking hell. Even if he was joking around, that wasn’t helpful at all in Jo’s plan of at least trying to hide her feelings for him. Ignoring the heat rising in her cheeks, Jo quickly said, “Don’t let them hear you say that. Have fun at the movies.”

Instead of waiting for a reply, Jo offered a brief smile before hastily going to her room and shutting the door behind her, letting out a deep slow breath as she dropped herself on the bed. Taking a rather violent bite of her sandwich, Jo felt her shoulders sink in defeat. If the smallest of comments from Alex had her body going into a frenzy and her breath catching, how was she at all going to be successful in keeping her feelings for him at bay? This wasn’t going to be easy.

“You know you’re about as subtle as a neon sign.”

Jo blinked up at Jackson, frowning behind the shield of her book as the boy sat down on the couch next to her, having returned from the movies just ten minutes earlier. Alex had headed off to work and Lexie had hopped into the shower. “Huh?”

Jackson chuckled lowly, “tell me, Jo,” he spoke up once again, bringing his legs up onto the coffee table and resting his arms on the couch arms. “Do you have a thing for Alex?”

“Obviously.”

“Huh?”

“We’re sleeping together.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

What the hell?

Jo’s jaw loosened at Jackson’s inquiry, eyes widening behind her book and heart jumping into her throat. His eyes were on hers and Jo’s shoulders tensed, taking in a sharp breath as Jackson waited for an answer. But she was too stunned and taken aback to say anything, to confirm or deny, because of course Jackson would sense something is up—he’d been spending a ridiculous amount of time around them both. He may be the quiet one of the four—at least, when he’s sober—but he’s definitely the most observant; he’s always watching people, dissecting them with his eyes and mind and figuring them out like the world’s easiest math equation. Jackson seemed to read people so easily, and Jo should’ve known better than to think she would be able to hide anything from him. She spent half her time wondering how she was keeping this from Lexie.

When she didn’t say anything for a few moments too long, his lips twitched as he shrugged and assured, “It’s okay if you do.”

“No, it’s not,” she blurted, not even bothering to deny anything. All the air expelled from her lungs as Jackson quirked a brow, silently prodding her to continue as she threw the book down and looked ahead. Jo’s eyebrows lowered in a distressed frown. “He’s—I can’t ... he doesn’t want that. I feel like I’m, like, betraying myself or something.”

“Because you didn’t want a boyfriend.” His words were more of a statement than a question, yet Jo nodded anyway as she sat up, crossing her legs and picking at her unpainted nails. Jackson sighed, “you can’t help who you have feelings for, Jo. So what? You didn’t want a boyfriend, but that was before you met the guy.”

“It’s not that—relationships are messy already and then you add me into the situation and I—I mess everything good in my life up.”

“That’s not true,” Jackson instantly retorted matter-of-factly, effectively clamping Jo’s mouth shut as she looked at him almost helplessly. He sighed as he took in the brunette’s expression, shifting so he was sitting face her with his own legs crossed. “You and Lexie have been friends for years, she loves you—trust me, she talks about you like you’re her favorite person. It almost makes me jealous.” Jo smiles, shaking her head with a small laugh, “does this have something to do with … that Jason guy?”

“Maybe,” she countered, tilting her head challengingly. “Everyone said he was such a nice guy, I mean he was charming and funny—no one had a bad word to say about him. But then he’s with me and he turns into someone else, he’s a cheater and manipulative and he—”

“Jo, that has nothing to do with you. That’s him. That’s who he really is, behind the facade.” Jackson cuts her off, frowning.

With a huff, Jo changes the conversation back to Alex, “what if I told Alex I liked him more than that? What if, hypothetically, he liked me back and we wanted to date? I’m not saying that’ll happen, because I very much doubt it, but if it did—who's to say it wouldn’t end in disaster. That we’d end up hating one another when we might be working together in a few months' time.”

Jo saw Jackson’s eyes widen as his eyebrows shot up his forehead, full lips parting in surprise before asking, “that’s what it’s all about, taking risks. It would be nice to see how things panned out before getting yourself into something, but half the fun is doing it for yourself.”

Jo scoffed, raspingly and a bit bitterly. “You just like having another guy around,” she joked afterwards, regretting the way she was treating him in this moment. Jo was just coming to terms with the fact that she was developing feelings for Alex, so the idea of actually being with him was still out there—just a hopeful imagination running wild without having to deal with the consequences of sharing them with anyone. Until now, with Jackson.

Jackson’s gaze returned to her as he leaned closer, deep voice dropping low as he looked at her over his sunglasses. “I get you’re scared,” he told her. “But it’s about you and how you feel, okay? If you like Alex and you want something out of it, let him know. Forget about all the what-ifs for a second—what’s the worst that could happen if you tell Alex you like him?”

Jo blinked, staring at Jackson in slight incredulity, surprised that he was pushing her on this. Honestly, she was kind of glad she had someone she could talk to this about. Jackson would never be her first choice, it would always be Lexie, she’d found recently that he was very easy to talk to; he was quiet, but he always listened and if you were one of the people he opened up to, then something about that made the person feel special. There have been lots of moments since they finally met one another all those weeks ago, some when they were drunk off of wine, where Jackson would let Jo know all of his thoughts and feelings and dreams, and it was a time she welcomed wholeheartedly.

But once his question settled in her mind, Jo let out an unladylike snort and pointed out, “He might not feel the same way and totally reject me.”

Much to her surprise, a smirk curled at Jackson’s lips as he leaned away from her, humming out in a tone that told her he knew more than he was letting on, “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Jo’s heart thudded against her chest in a particularly hard beat, eyes widening as she stared at his blue-eyes in startlement as her stomach did an anticipated flip-flop. What the hell did that mean? The look on Jackson’s face told her he knew something that he wasn’t revealing, and that sent her curiosity skyrocketing. “What’re you talking about?”

To her chagrin, Jackson merely shrugged as he hopped to his feet, ignoring her protesting exclaims as he smirked and walked towards the bathroom, hearing the shower turn off. “Wha—Jackson! Come back!” she shouted, briefly frozen in her spot on the couch. He wasn’t sure about Alex rejecting her feelings for him? What? “Jackson! Don’t think I’m letting this go!”

When he neared the bathroom door, rich laughter escaping him as he did so, Jo let out a frustrated sigh before throwing herself up off the couch, practically running towards the much taller male as she tried to catch up to him. Even when Jo caught up to him and jumped on his back, sending them both falling around the small hallway with laughter, it did nothing to get Jackson to spill whatever secrets he was holding.

“What the hell is going on?” Lexie shrieked as she threw open the bathroom door, frowning with curiosity down at the pair with a towel wrapped around her slim frame. When all she was met with was laughter, she stepped over the pair and towards her bedroom with a sigh and a smile.

Jo was convinced the best way to torture someone was by telling them they know something but not actually letting them know what that something is, leaving their imagination and thoughts to run rampant with wild curiosity. That’s exactly what Jackson was doing to her since he dropped some sort of hint the other day on her couch, and even when Jo tried to drown him in questions, he didn’t budge on telling her what he meant. But Jackson just smirked and laughed and said nothing. Asshole.

Why did Jackson have to say I wouldn’t be so sure about that when Jo said that Alex wouldn’t feel the same way about her as she did about him? The potential answer to that invited the excited fluttering in her stomach to increase tenfold and heart to pick up its pace, but she wasn’t going to jump to any conclusions without having a solid answer—which Jackson was being ridiculously secretive about. Why say something so vague? Pretty sadistic of him, in Jo’s opinion.

Every time he looked at her, Jo narrowed her eyes at him in a glare lacking any real anger or maliciousness and he merely smirked in response, knowing exactly what he was doing to her. Alex and Lexie had caught the interaction at one point, but Jo quickly looked away and didn’t give them any room to question.  

Tonight, after being back in school for a week, the weekend rolled around and Jo was hoping to get her mind off of her raging curiosity by joining everyone in going to a club, for once, that was only a five minute drive from the bar. But since no one was completely dedicated to being a designated driver, they split two Ubers and arrived at the club after pregaming for a bit at the bar—where Jo would have happily stayed but Stephanie had other ideas.

As expected, the club was throbbing with life at this time of night, music playing at a deafening volume as people gathered in the middle to dance to the live DJ, off on the right to lounge on the couches and tables, or to the left where almost the entire side was taken up by the bar. There were people upstairs too, the second floor only making up the perimeter of the room as the back spilled out onto a large back deck with more couches so people could enjoy the outside weather while hearing the music from inside. Since it was on the beach, people were either hanging out on the deck or going towards the beach.

As soon as they got inside, Jo and her friends gravitated towards the bar and she was pressed between Lexie and Steph’s newish boyfriend, Kyle, as Jackson got one of the bartender’s attention and requested a round of shots. The bass of the remixed music thrummed in Jo’s ears as everyone’s chatter mingled altogether, laughter erupted from them all following some remark Leah made trying to convince them on how playing hard to get was the perfect way to bag an older man. It was funnier because he looked so serious talking about it. Jo had to fight turning her gaze over to Alex the entire conversation.

The vodka burned down Jo’s throat once they tossed the glasses back, not even pausing as two more rounds were brought in front of them as they took those as well. As the boys ordered some drinks for themselves, Steph grabbed Jo’s and Lexie’s hands before dragging them towards the center of the room, pulling them in the midst of the dancing crowd so they could move amongst the somewhat sweaty bodies that were already rubbing up against them. But the couple of shots of vodka, plus the few drinks Jo had taken before coming here, were already mixing with her blood and she felt good, so dancing with her friends was exactly what she was going to do. Even though her long hair was loose, her sleeveless bodysuit and shorts didn’t let her feel too hot despite the stuffy atmosphere.

The song was some Migos remix, though everyone was yelling out the lyrics as they moved to the beat and white lights flashed to the rhythm. They must have danced to two more songs before Jo broke away from the crowd and went back to the bar at Steph’s request of getting more drinks. The guys were right where they had left them, backs against the bars and glasses in their hands as they talked and sipped while the three of them shoved themselves between the boys.

“Whoa, whoa, none for us?” Jackson demanded over the music, an amused grin spreading on his lips at the girls after they downed the first round.

Lexie smiled that flirtatious smile she only reserved for Jackson, left hand on her chest as she pulled him towards her and teased, “Only if you join me on the dance floor, babe.”

His grin widened as he pulled her closer, which at this point Jo looked away to reach for another shot glass and downed the green apple flavored liquid. Her throat no longer burned as the drink went down, placing the glass upside down on the wooden bar top. She gestured for the bartender to bring another round, wondering just how wasted she could get by the end of the night.

“You know Alex’s been wanting to dance with you all night,” Jackson’s voice spoke in Jo’s ear, when he returns from the dancefloor, low yet she could hear him clearly despite the loud music. “Avoiding him is just gonna’ make him think you hate him or want to end whatever is going on between you or … something.”

Automatically, Jo’s eyes wandered around to find the brunette, landing on Alex towards the right as he stood leaning against one of the pillars. This wasn’t really his type of music, but he was smiling and chatting away to Kyle, watching them actually enjoy themselves was amusing to Jo. “You know I don’t hate him,” she mumbled, tone dejected and drunkenly slow as she leaned her head against Jackson’s shoulder.

They were sitting on one of the couches on the right side of the room, right under the second-floor landing where people above and around them were dancing and having a good time. Lexie and Steph were lost somewhere in the crowd. “Then tell him that, Jo,” Jackson responded, twirling the glass he held with long fingers as the ice inside clinked around. “Just because you realized you like Alex as more than a friend-with-benefits, doesn’t mean you have to stop acting like his friend, you know? Don’t push him away because you’re scared of the possibility of having more.”

Jo wasn’t nearly as drunk as she’d like to be to be having this conversation, and not for the first time did Jo curse her ability to hold her alcohol well. She didn’t know how many drinks she’s downed so far, but the most she was feeling was a little heaviness in her head and mild sluggishness. She was still painfully aware of every word she said and every thought she processed.

Which is why Jackson’s words were settled in her mind like wet cement; sinking and hardening as she realized he was right. Jo was being dumb by trying to push Alex away just because she was scared—not scared of telling Alex, but scared of finding out how he felt, of feeling like she was betraying Charlotte. Seriously, what kind of friend went after their friend’s ex, knowing they have some unresolved issues with them? But try as she might, Jo couldn’t kill the butterflies that erupted when Alex smiled or relax the quickening of her heart when his eyes met hers. There was no stopping any of that, and it dizzied her how fast her feelings intensified over the past few days.

“How do you know he wants to dance with me?” she found herself asking, hoping her tone was quiet enough for only Jackson to hear, which wasn’t a problem since Alex was a few feet away and the music was deafeningly loud.

“You kidding?” Jackson chortled deeply in mild amusement after taking a sip of his drink, his shaking shoulders causing Jo’s head to move right along with them. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you when you were on the dance floor. He was watching your every move. You guys have been doing this thing for quite a few weeks now, so I know, and you know it’s not just lust.”

Jo’s mouth dried at that, feeling the familiar quickening of her heart as her eyes flickered over to Alex. He was talking to Kyle, a grin on his face as they remained shadows of two men due to the pillar they were against, the flashing white lights in the center not reaching them. He was watching her? Oh, my God—he was watching me? What did that mean? Fuck, she sounded like a teenage girl.

As if reading her thoughts, Jackson mused, “You wanna’ know why I said what I said that day after the movies?”

This time her heart jumped in her throat, causing Jo to croak out an instant, “Yes.”

He took a breath, chest expanding as she kept her head against his shoulder, not daring to move until she heard him reply. The music seemed like nothing but background noise, an irritating sound Jo wished she could drown out. Finally, Jackson confessed, “Because he told me, a few days after dinner at Thatcher’s, about how he feels about you.”

His words had Jo immediately lifting her head and leaning away from Jackson, staring at him with widened eyes as she remained frozen where she sat. He merely looked back at her, brown eyes glinting against the light, raising his eyebrows as if to say I said what I said while Jo just sat with an expression of confused shock etched across her face. Alex told Jackson how he feels about her? What does he feel? Also, how does a friendship between two guys develop that fast? Once again, as if reading her thoughts, Jackson smirked and said, “You’re gonna have to find out from him exactly what.”

That snapped Jo out of her incredulity, eyebrows lowering and lips forming a pout as she gripped his arm, shaking it as she whined, “Jackson!”

But the black-haired boy shook his head, smirk widening in delight of withholding information from his friend. “Nope, ask him,” he said, eyes flickering over her shoulder before he jutted his chin. “I’d ask him now, if I were you. Looks like he’s headed out back.”

Jo instantly looked over her shoulder, catching sight of Alex walking away from Ashton and making him way around the crowd towards one of the doors to the back area, and Jo let out a heavy breath at the sight of his broad retreating back. Oh, God—should she ask him? Part of her knew that, judging by Jackson’s expression and words, whatever Alex may have to say would be exactly what she’d want to hear, but the other part of her was terrified of that being true. If Jo told Alex she liked him and he told her he liked her, then what? … would they date? Would that be so horrible?

“Fucking hell, Jo, just go after him,” Jackson groaned pleadingly, making her look back at him with wide eyes as he gestured to the back with his free hand. “Go! Stop overthinking everything and just do it.”

Jo stared at Jackson for a few moments, worry clear on her face as she chewed her lower lip and probably ate off whatever little lipstick she had left. She was overthinking, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. Tipsy or not, Jo had to think this through. Jo knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

But the further and further Alex currently walked away from her, the more rapid Jo’s heart got and increased the desire to run after him. Suddenly she felt completely sober, even if she actually wasn’t, and she quickly said to Jackson, “Don’t tell anyone,” before getting up and following after Alex, not even bothering to wonder if Jackson knew she meant for him not to tell anyone anything about her and Alex. He probably did.

Jo pushed through a bunch of people, muttering out apologies and excuse me’s as she neared the back entryway Alex had disappeared through moments earlier. She was glad she had decided not to wear heels because she probably would’ve tripped over her own feet with how fast she was moving to get to Alex.

It wasn’t hard to spot him when she finally stepped outside, taking in a breath as she welcomed the openness of being outdoors rather than inside the stuffy club as she glanced around, blinking through the mild lethargic heaviness her head felt. It was much more chill out here, people chatting and drinking and lounging on the outdoor patio or walking down the few steps that lead to the beach. Alex was in the front corner, looking out to the beach as the torches that were spread around the porch bannister provided a glowing light to the area.

Jo’s hands weren’t sweaty, but she still rubbed them down her shorts as she began walking over to the tall brunette, ignoring the chill her exposed arms and legs felt as she swallowed nervously, weaving around a few lingering people until she reached him. “Hey,” Jo greeted, sneaking up to his left as her hands gripped the metal railing.

The ice in his glass of vodka on the rocks clinked as he lowered it from his mouth, looking over at her in mild surprise. Alex was leaning forward, arms resting on the railing as his lips curled upwards slightly. “Hey.” He glanced around the area, raising an eyebrow. “Needed a breather?”

“Yeah,” Jo answered with an airy laugh, leaning with her left arm on the railing, body towards Alex yet looking out towards the beach. The sound of the waves was distant over the music, the smell of the salty sea mingling with the alcohol making for a sharp, pungent scent. “Way too stuffy inside—isn’t that why you’re out here?”

A lazy smile curled at the corner of Alex’s lips, shrugging one shoulder as he vaguely answered, “More or less.”  

Jo hummed, side against the railing as she folded her arms in attempt to hug herself to shield her body from a particularly chilly breeze that blew against them, her straightened hair flying slightly. Wearing a deep cut, sleeveless bodysuit and shorts wasn’t as good of an idea if she was outside, fighting against the wind. As if sensing her discomfort, Alex glanced over at her, taking in her stance before resting his glass on the railing and pulling back his arms to shrug off the black jacket he was wearing, he held it behind Jo and draped it over her shoulders.

Her gaze flickered up to him, breathing stilled at the newfound proximity as his fingers drifted down to grip the front of the jacket, head bent slightly to look down at Jo thanks to his above average height. He was swaying ever so faintly with the wind as his dark eyes met Jo’s brown, and she knew she had to breathe again but with him looking at her so intensely, the action seemed impossible. But she managed to, inhaling softly as Alex’s familiarly pleasant coconut and aftershave scent engulfed her, a welcome change from the alcohol she had been smelling inside.

Alex didn’t pull away from her, standing close. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you came out here?” he finally asked, deep voice a raspy murmur as he didn’t dare break their gaze. “Because it’s too stuffy inside?”

His words had a meaningful, purposeful tilt into them raising a pointed eyebrow as his fingers remained gripping the jacket to keep her in place. Jo rolled her lower lip into her mouth, unable to break her gaze from Alex’s paralyzing one. The embers of the small fires on the tiki torches danced in his light eyes, golden against them and melting Jo on the spot. She was so focused on his gaze that she barely registered his question and when she did, Jo felt herself swallowing inaudibly in attempt to loosen the tightness in her chest.  

Obviously, that wasn’t the only reason she was out here—honestly it wasn’t even a reason. The sole objective was to get to Alex, to talk to him and hopefully muster up the nerve to tell him how she felt, just like Jackson had been urging. Maybe the alcohol she had drank throughout the night would provide for some liquid courage, but the way Alex’s gaze was fixated on Jo had her brain short circuiting and proving it difficult to form words.

“I—No, that’s not—I’m not—” Fucking smooth, Jo. She was stumbling like an idiot over her words because the way Alex was looking at her truly was messing her up, feeling the heat rise up her neck and spread across her cheeks. The sleeves of his jacket were long on her arms, hiding the way her fingers of both hands were picking at her newly yellow painted nails in anxious nerves. Just tell him. Stop freezing yourself with worry over everything else—just tell him. Speak now and worry later.

Apparently, Alex found her stammering amusing as a boyish, lower-lip-biting grin took over his face, showing off his dimples and effectively stealing Jo’s breath. She wondered if Alex knew how handsome he was and how his smile could maybe, possibly end all wars.

He was getting closer, she could feel it, along with the fact that his hands were now sliding up and holding the sides of her neck in a gentle touch, the metals of his rings cool against her heated skin as his fingers slid slightly into her hair. The sounds of people chattering, and music playing was taken over by the thundering of her heart, breath unsteady as barely an inch remained between Alex and Jo, his nose brushing against hers once he leaned in, his own uneven breathing mingling with her own. Was he as nervous, anticipating the next few moments as she was? The ends of some of his curls were tickling Jo’s cheek as Alex surprised her by whispering, “I need you to say it, Jo.”

His gaze was practically impaling her and she found herself glancing down at his lips—pink and soft looking and full—as she swallowed and muttered breathlessly, “Say what?”

The pads of Alex’s thumbs brushed against Jo’s cheekbones. Was the music still playing? Neither of them could hear it, attention solely on each other. His gaze flickered to her lips, mirroring her action. “You know what.”

Jo’s hands, which had been nervously at her sides, finally moved as she lightly fisted the front of his black tee, and she spoke the first three words that popped in her head. “Kiss me, Alex.”

He didn’t have to be told twice because the second those words escaped Jo, Alex leaned towards her and she met him in the middle, eyes shutting at the first touch of his lips against hers. Honest to God, it felt like she was exploding as Alex’s lips moved surprisingly slowly, softly against her own. Suddenly it wasn’t just Jo’s sense of smell that was taken captive by Alex—he had taken over everything. She felt the languid movements of his lips and the tender touch of his hands against her cheeks and in her hair, the taste of vodka welcome only because it was coming from Alex.

It was a slow, sucking kiss that tightened Jo’s grip on his shirt but ended way too quickly with Alex pulling away. But he didn’t put much distance between the two as Jo’s eyes dazedly opened, staring up at him with a parted mouth and slightly widened eyes. Alex’s blue eyes were looking at her; like he was taking in every feature on her face for the first time as his gaze flickered all over, and for a moment Jo felt a bit unsure of herself because of the pure intensity of his staring, which was doing the exact opposite of slowing her heart rate down.  

Jo felt light on her feet, the heaviness in her head dissipating after that kiss because, shit, it was everything she could’ve hoped for and more. Alex’s lips were softer than she imagined, the touch of his hands cupping her cheeks gentle and comforting, so much so that she didn’t want him to let go.

Then Alex’s lips curled upwards in a smile that showed off his teeth and dimples and Jo instantly mirrored it an automatic response. Elated gaze once again meeting his, she felt the air rush back into her lungs in time for Alex to press his lips against hers in a kiss of much more fervor, like he was putting every ounce of his feelings into it.  

[ayellowcurtain]

Can you write smth about Charles is back in Paris and he goes to Manon place and the whole Le Gang and The Squad is there and Lulu will riot (like REALLY, maybe even try to punch him he he, I know, a little bit violent) cause he knows how much Charles hurted Manon and the whole group is so pissed becuase of his come back.

can u write eliott and imane teasing lucas a bunch??

if you could write something about Lucas and Manon's friendship/ sibling relationship.

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“He won’t run away you know? You don’t have to touch, hold him all the time.” Eliott laughs with Imane’s comment, holding Lucas’ hand against his stomach so he won’t obey her and not touch Eliott anymore. 

“He can run away, you know? God knows how annoying it can be to be with me all the time.” 

“Hey! It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” Eliott tighten his grip on Lucas’ neck, pulling him closer for a kiss, but it doesn’t last because both of them can’t stop smiling and Imane is still right in front of them, watching everything with a little smile. 

“He’s a hero! No, but you two are cute, I hope to be invited to the wedding.” 

Eliott rest his head against Lucas’, smling to imane. 

“You can be a bridesmaid!”

“Bridesmaid? Who's getting married?” Manon comes closer to the trio, arm-in-arm with Imane. 

“Me and Lucas.” 

“Can I go?” She smiles, excited. 

Eliott looks at Lucas, answering before his boyfriend can.

“You can be a bridesmaid as well, Lucas will talk to you about it later.” 

“You and Yann, yes! That’s it! And Imane and Sofiane.” Lucas wiggles his eyebrows and Eliott is sure he’s serious about it. “Do you need anyone else there with us to make sure we say our vows correctly? Everyone else will be invited, of course, but I think the four of you are more than enough at the altar.”

“We’re really getting married, huh?” Eliott teases Lucas, kissing his cheek.

“Oh! He’s not sure, Lulu! But you’re right to think twice, Eli, I can barely handle him for a whole class, imagine for a whole life.” Imane and Eliott laugh, but Manon reaches for Lucas arm, caressing it as he looks at Eliott, raising an eyebrow. 

“You don’t have to marry me...”

“Baby!!” Eliott laughs, turning Lucas to face him, kissing him and saying that he loves him so much, would marry him today if he wanted to. But they also have to wait for Sofiane since he’s an important part of the ceremony, so they would probably have to wait until tomorrow. 

-

“Since you’re at it, can you grab one for me?” Lucas looks over the fridge door, Manon is smiling at him and he goes back to the task, grabbing three beers and closing the fridge, going to the sink to open it. 

“There you go, madame.”

“Thank you!” She takes a sip and he follows her, holding Eliott’s beer. “So...do I have to buy a specific dress or I can go with whatever I already have?”

“Me and Eliott still have to decide.”

“Ok, don’t forget to tell me.”

“I won’t. And hope you’re serious about this. When we get married, if we get married...I would really like to have you and Yann there.” Manon tries not to laugh at Lucas’ drunkenness, but he’s cute and she knows he’s waiting for a real answer, so she stops for a second, fixing his hair, putting it behind his ear. 

“Yes, if you feel like having me as a bridesmaid, I would be honored.”

“And you and Yann could get to know each other better...”

“Lucas...”

“It would make my life so much easier, you know?” Manon rolls her eyes, drinking a little more. Yann is a very nice guy, very, very good looking. “And he’s the best person ever, you deserve it.”

“I think you got the best person ever, but yes, Yann is cool.”

“You’re right...” The door bell rings and Lucas looks at the door, putting both beers on the sink, leaving Manon by herself at the kitchen, opening the door just a little to see who it is.

“What the f-” He looks inside, getting out of the flat and closing the door behind him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Is Manon here? I’m trying to call her and she won’t pick up-”

“Yes, she’s smarter than that. She’s not here.” 

Someone opens the door behind him, not leaving much time for Lucas to explain, Manon looks at Charles and when he’s about to start talking, passing by Lucas like he’s not even there, Manon closes the door, leaving them alone again and Lucas shoves him away, holding his ground. 

“Are you fucking deaf or what? Go home, asshole.” Charles finally looks at him again, frowning.

“I need to talk to her, Lucas.” He sounds like he’s telling something obvious to someone who’s really dumb. The door opens again and Lucas is ready to tell Manon to go inside and lock herself, but it’s Eliott, closing the door behind him, looking between the boys. 

Lucas looks at Charles again, ready to draw for him if that’s what’s necessary for him to understand. 

“You’re not talking to her, she doesn’t wanna talk to you, get over it, move on with your stupid life and leave us alone.”

“She’s my girlfriend, Lucas!” Charles nearly scream in his face, tired of having to deal with Lucas, someone he barely knows, to get to talk to Manon. 

Eliott frowns, stepping forward, looking at the tall guy. 

“You can’t talk to him like that.” Charles looks at the unknown man, ready to throw both of them downstairs to get inside the flat. 

“You’re way dumber than I expected, you can’t really take a fucking hint, can you? She’s too good for you and yet, you, somehow, was able to fuck it up even worse for yourself. Move on with your life, Charles. Or I’ll make you do it.”

 Lucas is ready to fight if Charles tries to pass by him again, but the other one stays in silence for a second, turning around, going downstairs while on his phone, probably trying to call Manon or Alex or something. Eliott looks at his boyfriend, putting a hand on his neck.

“You’re ok?”

“Yeah, he’s just a fucking rich idiot.” 

[avengers-nextgen]

Prometheus IIIV

Piper had stayed up all night on the phone with Gen frantically cross referencing anything she could. Her handwriting had devolved into barely discernible figures and she was on her third cup of coffee in twenty minutes.

A white board nearby was littered with shitty drawings and hastily scribbled urls to look up later. Books were scattered about the room and in the background some historical documentary was rolling. She’d stopped paying attention to it well over an hour ago.

“So if you trace that what do you find?” Piper questioned. Having grown tired of holding the phone to her ear she’d literally wrapped a rubber band around her head to hold it there.

“Something about the Bermuda Triangle. But that’s dumb because we know it’s just gas ventilation that causes malfunctions,” Gen huffed.

“Ocean farts. Got it.” Piper nodded slapping it down onto her white board. “Ever heard of the baby brother to the Bermuda Triangle?”

“Uhm...no.”

“Great. My turn to teach you.” Piper took a gulp from her coffee cup and slammed it onto the desk before cracking her knuckles. “There’s multiple ones. One recently thought to be found in Southeast Asia. The Devil’s triangle off the coast of Japan. The good old original Bermuda, and even one in the US. Except that one is fucking scary as shit-“

“Focus.”

“Right. Anyways,” Piper sighed studying her white board, “one of these is said to be a sealed entrance to the shadow realm. The nearest connection point between the Abyss and Earth. It’s why things disappear. If nothing is up with the original triangle- except for ocean farts-we can eliminate that. The one in the US I’m not even considering. Meaning we have the Japan one or the Southeast one.”

“Narrow the time zone. When did this guy start popping up?”

“Recently.”

“Exactly, so which has the most recent occurrence?” Gen asked.

“The Devil’s Sea. The one next to Japan.” Piper concluded after glancing at the dates. “That’s where he has to be going. It’s the easiest place to establish a connection.”

“How are you going to trace him? The ocean is huge.”

“I have my ways,” Piper smirked. “Thanks for the help. I have some info to relay.”

“Be careful. You have a reckless nature.” Gen scoffed. “So do your friends.”

“It’s part of the job. See you at school.” Piper hung up.

— — —

“Time to fly,” Orion grinned sprinting to his jet.

“Time to shoot!” Valkyrie cheered running after him.

“Time to supervise,” Scout huffed trailing behind.

“Piper, keep the signal strong.” James instructed following Nathaniel into another jet.

“On it.” Piper replied as her suit fastened itself.

“Tell is when you arrive.” Arthur reminded them, “Chloe and I can bring the others.”

“Copy that.” Nathaniel noted, slipping on the headset. The engines of the jets came to life kicking up small clouds of dust from the hangar.

“Good luck.” Penny tapped her foot anxiously. She’d be waiting with the others until Prometheus was located.

“Don’t worry kid.” James grinned, “This’ll be fun.”

— — —

“I have sight,” Orion called, studying the large freight with an intense scrutiny. “Scout, what-“

“It’s a freight.” Scout informed. “Used for large shipments but it looks pretty empty except for a few crates. No one visibly on deck.”

“Circle about, don’t go too low.” James instructed.

“On it.” Orion replied. The two jets curved slowly overhead for a few minutes but the ship moved lazily along. “Scout, can you sense anything?”

“No...” Scout frowned. “Only slightly. It’s foggy.”

“He’s being defensive,” Nathaniel decided, “he knows we’re here.”

“So how do we approach this? I don’t want to lead everyone else into a trap.” James sighed, scanning the area.

“Blow it up.” Valkyrie suggested.

“Absolutely not.” Scout argued. “We need to remain airborn Incase we need to evacuate or provide cover. That’s our job. Air support. If the deck is clear we tell the others and they storm the ship.”

“I don’t like being up here when they’re down there.” James groaned.

“Sorry buddy, but that’s how it’s working,” Nathaniel sighed. “Arthur do you copy?”

“Loud and clear.”

“The deck seems to be clear. We’re circling over head. Go ahead and board we’ll be ready if you need it.” Nathaniel informed.

“You got it.”

A few seconds later Nathaniel spotted the growing edges of portals before a bright yellow figure zipped through-Penny. She was followed swiftly by the others.

“We’re aboard.” Arthur stood on the deck studying its blank surface. “Phase two?”

“Phase two.”

— — —

Bianca stood back to back with Thalia. The two moved slowly down the stairs into the under belly of the freight ship. The air was dank and wet smelling much to their displeasure.

“Take the right side,” Fox ordered slinking off to the left with Siyanda following closely behind. “Check every room.”

Thalia nodded and motioned for Bianca to follow her. The only thing that lit their path was flickering emergency lights over head. Cracking open the first cabin door, Bianca hoisted her rifle ready to shoot. Her eyes skimmed the area anxiously but nothing seemed out of place.

Across the way Fox and Siyanda were searching another cabin. Fox nervously turned on the light to illuminate their surroundings. The bed was wet with blood. “I guess we know what happened to the crew members.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Siyanda breathed, looking away from the gory sight.

“Let’s keep moving,” Fox decided, wanting to leave as well. A shatter was followed by darkness as the light turned off. “What the-“

In less than a second Fox felt her feet leave the ground and her back crack painfully into metal paneling. Siyanda’s claws scraped horrifically into the metal releasing a flash of sparks.

Bianca picked up on the noise first, “Across the hall.”

Thalia responded just as the soldier did. Both girls sprinted across the metal floor to the door standing open. Bianca glanced through the night vision sight of her rifle to see three forms. Fox was clambering to her feet, Siyanda was glancing nervously about, and a body lay lifeless on the ground. It slowly disappeared. “Just a minion of his.”

“Scared the shit out of me!” Fox cursed.

“We need to be more careful,” Siyanda panted. “We’re on his playground now.”

“I don’t like this.” Thalia frowned.

— — —

Penny whizzed about on the other side of the first lower deck. She darted swiftly in and out of the rooms finding little of interest. She noticed a faint bit of oil pooling on the metal floor. It was dripping from the upper deck most likely from a leaking barrel. “Slobs.”

“Shh.” Chloe whispered trailing behind her. “Wait here.”

“The quicker we get this done the better. Every passing minute he gets closer to the summoning point!” Penny shook her head already distracted by the task and hyper focusing. Before Chloe could protest anymore the other girl was gone.

“Oil doesn’t just drip from the ceiling. What’s going on here?” Chloe frowned stooping down to examine the mess. An occasional drop plopped into the puddle but otherwise everything was quiet.

Following the arch of another drop upwards, Chloe examined the ceiling. There seemed to be a strong running across the top somehow. It was recent and still wet. Eyes trained on the ceiling Chloe followed the path until it ended at a cabin door.

She nearly opened it when she became very aware of the silence. She couldn’t hear the faint thrum of Penny’s wings. “Penny? Penny where are you?”

Before she got the chance to call out again a hand clamped firmly over her mouth and she was tugged inside the room where the door slammed shut.

— — —

“Every crate,” Enzo panted slashing through another with a burst of magic. The metal doors groaned before falling over onto the deck. “Another empty one.”

“Keep trying,” Piper encouraged blasting open another.

Arthur materialized from a third looking vaguely bored. “Empty as well. Who ships empty crates?”

“No one.” Piper snorted, “that’s why this is already weird as shit.”

“Do we have to work our way down? Why can’t we work our way up? He’s probably hiding.” Enzo frowned tearing another open. Inside was nothing more than ridiculous advertisement posters. “Oh look...McDonalds.”

“At least it’s something?” Arthur tried.

Piper flew up to one of the crates on top of a nearby stack and split it in half. Landing, she clambered inside it’s confines. Her stomach coiled in disgust. “Guess this is where they keep the shark bait.”

The slaughtered crew was laying in a huddle against one side of the crate. Tearing her eyes away from the mess she moved on to another one hoping it was empty.

— — —

Alex moved lower into the ship making quick and efficient work of the place. She was very aware of her surroundings and every bit of her senses was on edge. Her breath seemed impossibly loud when it shouldn’t have been.

So far nothing of importance had been discovered or she would have heard it in her ear piece. Beneath her shoes she could feel the hum of the engine room. In her head she ran Piper’s plan over and over again committing it to memory. They couldn’t afford to blow this.

Swallowing hard she took the stairs carefully already feeling the heat of the machinery. Steam clouded the air and waves of heat roiled from the metal. For a moment her heart leapt into her throat and she was certain she saw Prometheus inches away-but he wasn’t there.

Wiping sweat from her brow she straightened and pressed on. Her feet felt like they were on fire and she was more than eager to leave the engines behind to their own devices.

Then she came across a new flight of stairs leading up slightly. It was most likely a communications room. Adjusting the grip on her shield she took them two at a time emerging onto a scene she hadn’t expected.

The metal clad figure of Prometheus sat upon a throne with his legs crossed and his hands clasped. “So nice of you to arrive and join your friends.”

Alex glanced at Penny hanging upside down by a metal plate wrapped from her ankles. It was chained to the ceiling causing her to swing slightly. She was unconscious. Beside her was Chloe and she was very much awake. Her eyes were furious but her thrashing accomplished nothing.

“Where are the others?” Alex demanded.

“Being taken care of. They have yet to realize anyone’s missing.” Prometheus shrugged. “I have to say I’m happy you came here so early.”

“What do you want? Why do you insist on doing this?”

“That’s for me to know.” Prometheus winked. “You know very well what’s in my possession.”

His metallic palm turned upwards and the familiar statuette appeared in his hand. Alex wanted nothing more than to reach out and take it. Just having one would stop this madness. “Why waste your time tormenting us? You could have done this sooner.”

“I could have,”Prometheus agreed with a shrug, “but I find humanity so fascinating. The dynamics are fun to watch. I may have made you but you’ve all evolved so much. It’s...breathtaking.”

“Cut the flattery.”

“It’s not flattery,” The crinkle of his eyes signaled his smile, “it’s the truth.”

“Let them go. We can talk. But you let them go.” Alex nodded at Penny and Chloe. Chloe’s eyes smarted and she glared in protest.

“Chivalrous but I can’t do that. Every good strategist needs collateral.” Prometheus stood from his throne in a single swift motion. His back turned to Alex and he clasped his hands behind himself. “We’re nearly there.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Am I? Or are you?” He asked, amusement dripping from his voice. “You’re interesting.”

“Shut up.” Alex glanced at the chains from the ceiling. Her grip tightened more on her shield.

“You’re the only one not afraid.”

Alex bit back a response, and setting her feet she judged the trajectory of the throw. Her shield cracked into the fastenings. The chains broke with a spark sending Chloe and Penny sprawling to the ground.

“But you should be my dear. Everyone always is.” The ship shivered violently in response, “It appears we’ve arrived.”

[earlgreytea68]

That Time I Was a Lawyer and There Was All This Systemic Sexism I Never Let My Brain Deal With

Last night I had a dream that went like this: I went to an improv show. I didn't really want to be there but I went anyway. The man sitting in the row behind me kept running his fingers through my hair. I didn't want him to do that, so I leaned forward to try to dissuade him. He also leaned forward so he could still reach my hair. Finally I turned around and demanded that he stop touching me, and immediately everyone in the audience frowned at me for disrupting the show, and the man was like, "Wow, way to super-overreact, you could have just told me you didn't want me to do that, you didn't have to make a scene." I then was enlisted to take part in the improv, even though I didn't want to. For no real reason that I could discern, I was given the task of pretending to repair a door. I went about my task, and was immediately criticized for the poor job I was doing of pretending to repair a door, with people coming up to show me how I could pretend in a more realistic and entertaining fashion. Then the improv group decided they didn't feel like performing the rest of the show and basically headed off the stage, leaving me alone, when I never even wanted to do the improv in the first place. Soooo I think I'm working through some stuff. 

Basically yesterday I came back from vacation and caught up on the news and in the legal news especially the talk was Courtney Milan's piece on Alex Kozinski, which I read. And as I read it I had two thoughts. The first thought was: Yes. That's what being a lawyer is like. And the second thought was: Wait a second, and that's wrong. If you have been with me since Doctor Who days, then what you know about me is that I used to be a lawyer in a big law firm. Like Courtney Milan, I had the sort of law school background and ran in the sort of legal circles where expectations and demands were both high. I was a miserable lawyer, so intensely depressed I could barely get myself out of bed and cried many times a day and, I can say it now, just wanted to die. It seemed to me it would be so much easier if I could just die. I didn't consider myself suicidal, because I didn't want to actually kill myself, but I was okay if death happened to me, so to speak. It would save me the effort of having to live the rest of my life. I got myself out of that situation. If you've only known me since Sherlock days, then you know a very different me. In all honesty, you know what I consider to be the more real me, because Law Firm Me still feels like a different person. And I knew the law firm was a terrible place to work, but Courtney Milan's piece made me realize that, all along, I have been blaming myself for that: The law firm was terrible for me because I didn't have the right personality test for it. I wasn't strong enough to make it through. I allowed them to destroy my spirit and steal my will to live and shatter my entire sense of self. There was something wrong with me that made me not a good enough lawyer. I was a person who should be a teacher instead. All of these statements in my head about that whole situation were all about me. I made a miscalculation and chose the wrong career and messed everything up and I had to fix it. And Courtney Milan's piece suddenly, as I sat there reading it, made me realize: Oh, my God, that was not my fault. None of that was my fault. While I was at the law firm, I kept notes on the things happening to me. I'm a writer. I write to process things. Even though my time at the law firm was the only time in my life I have ever not been able to write because of how severely depressed I was, I still jotted things down, some part of me struggling to stay alive recognizing I'd need to write my way through it later. And I did. I wrote a 50,000-word memoir about my time at the law firm. Every single thing in it is true. The only thing I did was change names. And then I read through it and realized that it probably implicated attorney-client privilege and so I just stuck it in my documents. I took it out again and skimmed through bits of it and...oh my god. It is filled with so much sexual harassment that my brain just dismissed and compartmentalized as somehow being about me, like, about my reaction to it not being the right reaction that would have solved the issue, rather than it being their problem for treating me that way. And I'm realizing now that I sat on it for so many years, worrying about attorney-client privilege, the same way Courtney Milan sat on her Kozinski story because of judicial confidentiality, and the same way other women sign NDAs, and I'm like, this entire system of secrecy that we as law students were taught was vital to promote honest advice and deliberations has been entirely constructed to keep women and minorities silent as to systematic white male abuse. And part of the problem is the line-drawing. I think of Matt Damon's statement about a pat on the butt not being as bad as a rape. What happens when you put that in a hierarchy like that is you normalize pats on the butt. You're like, "Hey, he just pat your butt, he didn't rape you, have some perspective." And then that silences you. That makes you swallow back your protests. In fact, it makes you stop seeing that as something to protest. There are worse things, after all. So much worse things. My law firm had procedures in place for sexual harassment, and that was about, like, walking into an office and being told you'd make partner in exchange for sexual favors. And prioritizing that had the effect of normalizing everything else happening to us as being acceptable. In fact, it allowed the men I was working with to say, "Hey, I've never raped anybody, I'm a good guy." So that, if you protested their hands in your hair, as in my dream, they could turn it back on you as the unreasonable one: You were never raped over a desk, after all. No. I wasn't. But I did have a (married and much older) male partner ask me, during a discussion of the facts of a case, if a particular thing turned me on. The details of this discussion--what we were discussing, etc.--are shrouded by attorney-client privilege. It wasn't an overt hand down my blouse or something. But it was definitely an inappropriate remark that I had been deprived of a vocabulary to deal with. I had a male partner command me to give up concert tickets I had so I could work late for a male associate going to the same concert. When I protested why I had to stay while the male associate got to go to the concert, I was told that he'd been "working hard." We had obviously both been working hard. But he was the man and I was the woman, and society is such that women are expected to just keep working hard, without protest. In fact, men are trained to dismiss our protests as hysterical overreaction. Given a choice of two associates in a room, it's the female associate who will be asked to keep minutes, and when the female associate points that out, the male partner gets huffy, because, hey, no one in this room has been sexually assaulted, it's a simple request about taking notes, someone has to do it. I remember once my favorite partner to work with gave me a bad annual review. We worked together constantly. He always requested me for his cases. He had never once displayed any qualms about my work product. So I asked him about it. And he said, "They'd dismiss my opinion of you if they thought I liked you too much. They'd think I was playing favorites." I think back on that now and I'm just astonished, because I can remember so clearly how many male partners "played favorites" with male associates. We didn't worry that they liked each other too much. We called the male associates their proteges. There were concerted partnership campaigns. We knew who went to bat for who. There was no frowning upon this...unless a female associate was involved, and then it became questionable. Every single thing about the law firm's patriarchal structure was designed to deprive me of power and agency while pretending it had not, because they had allowed me in the door, and they have given me a job, and didn't that make things better? Fifty years ago they wouldn't even have given me a law degree at my law school. Look how far I had come. If I couldn't make it, it was merely a confirmation that they'd been right about women, we were too weak and flighty, lacking in ambition, unfocused, too into romance novels and the stories in our heads. I had one partner tell me flat out I had too many friends and that was my problem as a lawyer. And I believed him. I have too many friends, I thought. I'm not a good lawyer, I thought. I'll be better at other things, I thought. You know what? I was an incredible lawyer. I was great at that job. Courtney Milan suddenly made me realize: NOTHING THAT HAPPENED WAS MY FAULT. I WAS GOOD ENOUGH. I WAS ALWAYS GOOD ENOUGH. And I hadn't thought that in...ever. I sat yesterday and read that piece and cried. Because all along I'd thought, I wasn't "leaning in" hard enough. That whole idea is the most toxic and irresponsible thing. It is letting people off the hook all over the place for failing to treat others like human beings. And I am a white, cisgender woman, so in fact I do have it the easiest I can. I cannot even imagine how it feels for the women of color, or the LGBTQ community. I am a happier professor than I was a lawyer. I do think it's probably true that this is generally a better career for me. But I also will never really know, because my law experience was so tainted with systematic abuse that I am still suffering the trauma of it now. Even now, years later, I can find myself unexpectedly weeping and dreaming about being forced to do pointless things I don't want to do and then being blamed for those things. And it isn't that being a professor means there's no more sexism in my life. It's just that the power structure is such that I feel slightly less voiceless in the face of it. There have been a couple of times when I have been in a position where I thought to myself, "This is not good, I feel the way I did at the law firm," because this anxious panic would start rising up in me. Until yesterday, I had never really noticed that those moments are actually pegged to moments when systemic sexism rears its head again and tries to pin me under it. But it's true. Those moments have all revolved around men asking me to do things that I did not want to do. "No," I say to these men, because these men are not my boss and what they want me to do is not my job and they can't fire me. "No, I do not want to do that." But men hear a woman's "no" as "talk to me about this more until you get me to say yes." They bear down on you. They call you incessantly, send you emails, stop by your office. The only way I have found to get a man to accept my saying no is to ignore that man: refuse to take calls, delete emails, lock my office door. And these are men who otherwise would tell you that they are nice, enlightened, feminist men. They just cannot shake their socialized belief that a woman should not be allowed to say no to a man's desires. That a woman saying no must be saying so against her own self-interest, and she should be told in what ways her decision is wrong. And if she stays steadfast in her decision, well, that's just a woman for you: completely irrational. I would not have said I wasn't a person who didn't understand the ways in which society's systems are used to perpetuate racial and gender injustice. I think, though, that this is the first time I have allowed myself to internalize it as to me personally, and to realize how much my thinking "sexual harassment is a terrible thing happening to people out there" was normalizing and minimizing and dismissing the sexual harassment that had happened to me, in so thorough and overwhelming a way that my brain literally could not label it as such because it was too big. I think many women might be going through this moment now, and it's this moment of not just recognizing our ways of being complicit in much of this but of also recognizing how many of the things we've been blaming ourselves for have never been our faults. We've just been allowed to shoulder all this guilt and own all these mistakes that were never ours in the first place. Do not belittle your traumas because you know of bigger ones happening to others. It is of course important to acknowledge those bigger traumas. It is important not to be too enclosed in your own bubble. It is important to listen to the stories of others and to amplify their voices. But it is also important not to render yourself unimportant in the list of cultural casualties. Because to do so is to allow them to continue to render you unimportant and meaningless, not worth the time to cherish and listen to and respect. You're important enough in this world that you matter. Let yourself matter. I'm not sure I realized until yesterday how incredibly difficult that can be sometimes. Once, as a professor, in the halls of the law school where I work, I ran into a visiting federal judge who I did not know. This was our first meeting. "Hi," I said to him, shaking his hand. "I teach copyright and trademark stuff here."  "Then we have nothing in common," he informed me, and returned to his office. I was done, dismissed, not worth his energy. He was wrong.

[lynnearlington]

ooooh fall!! prompts!! okay okay kara/lena and pumpkins

The first year, they’re just friends and only just close enough that Kara extends an invitation to the annual pumpkin carving contest.

Lena takes a little convincing but eventually agrees and joins the group at the pumpkin patch dressed in a casual pair of pants and a warm oversized sweater.

They pick out pumpkins and buy apple cider and Kara takes the time to explain strategy and gives her a laundry list of first timer tips as she refers to it. It’s a tad overwhelming at first, but Lena handles it as best she can, smiling and nodding at Kara as they walk through the lines of pumpkins.

“You guys take this pretty seriously,” Lena observes after Kara tells her about an ongoing friend-circle debate on the virtue of using stencils.

Kara’s face affects an expression that clearly conveys duh before she says, “Totally seriously.”

It takes a bit of effort to swallow the laugh that wants to come out so she just hides her smile behind her cup of cider and is grateful when Winn interrupts them with, “Kara, can you help me carry this to the cart?”

–

Lena sticks with a traditional design of a jack o’lantern. It’s the first time in her life she’s ever carved a pumpkin for Halloween and it’s the easiest design she can think to do.

Kara’s comment is a friendly, “Classic is always a good route to go.” But Lena catches sight of the intricate tree like drawing Kara’s working on for her own pumpkin and sighs.

–

Winn ends up winning the competition that year with his Jack Skellington design and he has to hold the pumpkin above his head when Alex threatens to smash it in indignation.

His eyes go wide like the threat is something real and Lena wants to laugh when Alex instructs her sister to, “Hold him down.”

The second year is the year Lena finds out Kara Danvers and Supergirl are the same person.

It’s a shock, but as Lena thinks over it, it really shouldn’t have been. Their friendship hits a bit of a pothole, but they recover.

Kara is persistent in her apologies and Lena can’t fathom losing her friendship. They work through it and Lena tries to swallow the heavy pill that is her closest friend having lied to her for the past year.

The annual pumpkin carving contest is the first social activity they do together that doesn’t involve tears or arguing or profuse apology.

“You’re still my friend and you’ll always be invited,” Kara says as a way of pleading with her to come. “I know things have been weird between us, but I want you to come. If you want to.”

Lena lets the tension sag out of her shoulders and decides to stop fighting that urge deep inside her to just forgive Kara and move on.

“I want to,” she says and the smile that spreads over Kara’s features blooms warmth over Lena’s chest.

–

The night goes the same as the previous year and Lena takes comfort in the routine of it. They head out to the pumpkin patch, buy a round of hot apple ciders and stroll through the rows deciding on which pumpkin to pick out.

Lucy comes over to their cart holding a massive pumpkin and four smaller ones balanced on top of it and at Lena’s wide-eyed questioning look she just mutters, “Don’t worry about it.”

It makes Kara laugh before she pulls Lena down the rows with a casual easy touch Lena didn’t think they’d ever get back to.

“Any idea what you’re going to carve this year?” Kara asks absently as she inspects a pumpkin half covered in warts.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” is all Lena answers mostly because she hasn’t thought of it at all.

“Mysterious,” Kara teases with a wiggle of her eyebrows that makes Lena smile.  

–

In the end, she carves the Supergirl crest into her pumpkin and when she reveals it to Kara her friend’s eyes go a little round in surprise.

“You did a good job,” Kara says quietly as her eyes roam the pumpkin.

Lena locks eyes with her. “It’s my best friend’s family crest,” she says and before she can say more Kara surges forward and locks her in a strong hug.

“I love you,” Kara murmurs into Lena’s shoulder and they’ve said it before, casually and seriously and every which way, but it’s significant then. It feels like resolution they couldn’t find before.

“I love you too,” Lena replies and she wraps her arms over Kara’s shoulders.

–

Lucy wins that year after somehow constructing a monster like creation out of multiple pumpkins attached to each other. Just like every year, Alex vehemently disagrees with the result and accuses everyone of cheating somehow like she wasn’t the person who took and tallied the votes.

“Let’s take it to the public,” Maggie suggests with a shrug and both Alex and Lucy seem to agree.

They take both pumpkins out to the doorstep of Alex’s building and set them there. James brings out a thermos of spiked apple cider and they pass it around. Alex and Lucy spend their time badgering anyone who walks down the sidewalk to take a vote on which pumpkin is better and Lena just presses in close to the warmth of Kara’s body against the fall chill air and smiles.

The third year Kara kisses Lena.

That’s the one thing she’ll remember with clarity about that year.

It’s midway down the fourth row of pumpkins, somewhere near the big round haystack with a painted black cat and right after Lena laughed at some dumb joke Kara was making.

Kara’s lips taste like the apple cider they’d just finished and her cheeks are chill from the air and when she presses forward, Lena’s back hits the haystack behind her.

It feels like a long time coming if Lena’s honest and so she doesn’t hesitate in kissing Kara back.

It isn’t until Winn interrupts them with a loud exclaimed, “Whoa!” that they break apart and even then they stay hovered in each other’s airspace for long moments.

“I’ll see you guys at the car,” is all Winn adds before leaving them alone.

Lena pushes forward and kisses Kara again.

–

It takes considerably longer for Lena to decide what to carve that year and she blames that entirely on the way Kara keeps smiling shyly at her whenever their hands brush reaching for a tool.

The result is that she just copies Kara. They both end up with a variation on the classic jack o’lantern look, but with more expression and detail.

Lena wins.

Much to Kara’s sputtering incredulity.

“But we have the exact same pumpkin!”

“It’s not exactly the same,” Alex points out and she gestures to the mouth - Kara’s having one tooth and Lena’s having many. There’s a bemused teasing smile on Alex’s face that she can’t quite read, but clearly the elder Danvers sister is enjoying the moment immensely.

Lena tunes the argument out, doesn’t even care that much that she won. All she can think to care about is the way Kara’s cheeks look all flushed with indignation. It still feels like she can taste their kiss from earlier on her lips and she’s desperate to get Kara alone and talk about what it all means.

By the fourth year they’ve been officially together for ten months and they arrive to the pumpkin patch thirty minutes late but together and with apology pumpkin spice lattes for everyone.

“Don’t think this delicious drink will distract me from your lateness,” Alex says to them with narrowed suspicious eyes and Lena laughs.

Kara shrugs and wraps an arm around Lena’s waist.

–

They decide to do a pumpkin together which Alex absolutely balks at though Lena thinks that has more to do with Maggie’s noticeable absence than anything else.

Alex is about halfway through the boozy punch that Lucy brought and she’s taken to just stabbing her pumpkin with a knife over and over again. Kara scoots their pumpkin down the counter away from Alex with a wary expression.

“Jeez, Alex, don’t take it out on the pumpkin,” Winn jokes, but the sound cuts off into a cough when Alex throws a glare his way, knife raised in her hand.

He backs away slowly while James laughs.

–

Winn makes a robot pumpkin.

The minute Kara notices that he’s added robotic parts to his pumpkin she turns accusatory eyes towards Lena. “You helped him,” she says suspiciously and Lena just puts her hands up in a defensive gesture though she thinks the smile she’s unable to stop gives her away.

“No way, that’s cheating,” Lucy complains from her perch on one of the kitchen bar stools. Her legs are crossed at the ankle and propped up on James’s pumpkin where it sits on the counter.

“It’s not cheating just because you guys didn’t think of it,” Winn argues with a grumble.

Kara reaches out curiously to tug on one of the robot arms and it snaps immediately in her grip, all the metallic pieces crashing into the pumpkin and destroying half of it. When she looks back up it’s with a chagrined look on her face and an oops on her lips.

They call the contest a draw when Winn retaliates by pushing Kara and Lena’s pumpkin onto the ground.

The fifth year they’re fighting.

Lena doesn’t attend the annual pumpkin carving party and she finds she misses it desperately.

Alex spends the night texting her pictures from it - mostly of Kara’s grumpy face throughout the evening and then a particularly hilarious one of her throwing a handful of pumpkin guts at James.

It pangs at her heart enough that she calls Kara later than night.

“I hate fighting,” Kara says and Lena sighs. They’re not even fighting over something consequential. It was just a series of little squabbles coupled with busy work schedules and not enough free time and it all came to a head.

“I don’t enjoy it either,” Lena admits.

“Can I come over?” Kara asks quietly and Lena laughs.

“That depends. Did you win the contest?”

Kara makes an affronted sound and Lena can imagine that little disgruntled crinkle she always gets between her brows. “Lucy won and she will not shut up about it.”

“Sounds like her,” Lena says and her chest feels a little tight just imagining the familiar scene of all their friends arguing over who deserves to win. “I missed you guys.”

“We missed you too,” Kara replies and warm silence stretches over the phone for a bit. “I’m sorry.”

Lena takes a deep breath. “Me too.”

–

Kara comes over with her carved pumpkin as well as an uncarved one that she hands to Lena with a bright smile. “I still got you a pumpkin. Didn’t feel right not doing it.”

Lena takes it from her hands with a laugh and trades her for a quick kiss. “Help me carve it?”

“Of course.”

The sixth year, Lena plans her pumpkin eight months in advance and enlists some help from their friends.

It takes her extra long to pick out the perfect pumpkin and Kara looks at her with a curious expression. “Taking it extra serious this year?” She asks, her fingers tangling with Lena’s as they stroll through the rolls.

Lena scoffs. “I always take it seriously,” she says before taking a warm sip of her cider.

Kara laughs, but gets distracted by a particularly warped pumpkin to their right and disentangles from Lena to inspect it.

Alex comes up next to her while Kara’s occupied and leans in close, hand around Lena’s shoulder. “Just pick one. It’s not going to matter.”

A faint blush starts to creep up Lena’s cheeks, but she clears her throat and straightens. “I know what I’m doing,” she tells Alex though she’s slightly grateful for the strong hold Alex has on her shoulders. It’s settling some of the nerves she can feel building in her stomach.

“I’m sure you do,” Alex replies with a little smirk as she pulls away and walks towards her sister.

–

The hard part is carving the pumpkin in a way that Kara can’t see it before it’s finished.

James helps a bit by standing to Lena’s right in between the couple and Lucy does her part in talking to Kara as a diversion tactic.

Lena feels like her hands are shaking and this might not be the best time to handle sharp knives, but Alex pins her with a look that practically orders get a hold of yourself.

It’s a quick carving job after that, just a sequence of letters.

By the time she’s done it’s just a matter of showing Kara. The small black box in the pocket of cardigan starts to feel extra heavy as she realizes the next step.

Everyone else is in on it and they don’t make her feel any less nervous with the way they’re eying her with excitement. Winn in particular looks like he’s going to spoil the surprise at any moment so Lena knows she doesn’t have much time.

Kara’s still busy carving what looks like a witch silhouette into her pumpkin and Lena makes a small sound to get her attention just as James moves away with feigned intent to grab another beer.

Turning with a questioning smile, Kara looks over at her. “Hey, you finished already?”

Her fingers play with the box in her pocket. “Yeah, you want to see it?”

Kara’s brows pull down slightly, but her smile doesn’t fade. “Sure, definitely.”

Her throat feels thick and her hand unsteady and it’s all ridiculous because she knows Kara loves her, knows she’s going to say yes and she’s faced so many more nerve wracking situations than this. With a final deep breath she turns the pumpkin so Kara can see it and waits for the realization to spread on her girlfriend’s face.

It takes a second, but suddenly Kara’s eyes go comically wide and she takes in a sharp breath as her gaze scans over the simple carving MARRY ME

Knowing that’s probably her cue, Lena pulls the box out of her pocket and opens it in Kara’s line of sight.

Kara’s eyes dart between the ring and the pumpkin, back and forth, back and forth. “What’s happening right now?”

She hears Alex laugh from somewhere else in the kitchen and wonders why she thought this would be a good idea to do in front of people, but soldiers on with a quirk of her lips. “I think we should get married.”

“You do?”

Lena nods. “Yeah. Thoughts?”

A second more of just blank, confused staring, before a wide unstoppable smile spreads over Kara’s lips and Lena feels her own face mirroring the expression.

“Yes,” Kara says definitively, dropping the utensils in her hand and striding forward to scoop Lena up into a tight hug. The embrace lifts her up off the ground and she nearly drops the ring in her hand, but she laughs as Kara starts to press kisses to her face.

“Yes?” Lena asks just to be sure though judging from the infectious way Kara is smiling the answer is fairly obvious.

“Yes,” Kara repeats before pushing their lips together for long enough that Lucy has to throw the top of a pumpkin at Kara’s head just to get them to stop.

–

When Alex wins the contest that year instead of Lena, Kara takes personal exception to it and throws her sister’s pumpkin out the window.

Feel free to check out my Ko-Fi page if you’re feeling nasty. 

[brywrites]

Unconventional Love II

Author’s Note: Guess who’s finally done with exams? So, as requested, here’s the second part of Unconventional Love! 

(Part I)

It’s unconventional. He knows that. Knew it from the moment he realized how young she was. It scared him away for a few weeks, but he found himself quite unable to resist her. There was something about Y/N that pulled him in. Perhaps it was the way she made him feel safe and wanted. Or the way she could keep up with his mind when they talked – most of the time. Or the way she looked at him, how a single glance could make his heart rate jump drastically.

The moment he kissed her, it was all over. He knew then that he was too far gone to ever recover.

So he agreed to start seeing her. He wouldn’t admit out loud that in a way, it thrilled him. The whole “forbidden-love” trope. A sort of mentor-student relationship. The twelve year age gap made him hesitant – and yet, excited. He doesn’t think he’s had a thing for younger girls. It’s this particular girl. Everything about her draws him in.

After only a few months of dating, he knows it for sure: he loves her.

It’s why he finally invites her to meet his team. They’re his family, his life, and he wants her to be a part of his life. All they know is that he’s seeing someone. They know only her name, nothing else. She is one secret he has kept closely guarded, and for good reason; but she wants to be a part of his life just as much.

He never has been good at saying no to her.

So when Rossi throws a dinner party, he brings her along. In order to avoid too much attention, he picks her up at a coffee shop just off campus, away from the prying eyes of college students too prone to gossip. After several months, she still manages to take his breath away, sitting on a bench in a velvet dress, her hair pinned up, a book in her hands. At the sound of his car, she looks up, and immediately stands to greet him, the sound of her heels clicking on the sidewalk. A smile spreads across her face and the reflection of the lamplight in her eyes makes her look absolutely radiant.

The ride over is filled with a quiet anxiety for the both of them.

“What if they don’t like me?” she asks.

“Nonsense,” he assures her. “They’ll love you. My team is my family, and they’re all amazing people. There’s nothing to worry about.” There are exactly twelve things worrying him, however. Twelve years that separate him from her. Twelve things that his team will inevitably notice.

He can see it on Rossi’s face when he answers the door. The older agent is skilled in keeping a poker face, but microexpressions come through of their own accord, quiet messages to the those who know how to read them. They plainly say: shock, surprise, confusion.

Reid doesn’t miss a beat though, smiling and putting his arm around Y/N’s waist in a way only romantic partners do. “Y/N, this is David Rossi, my colleague. Rossi, this is Y/F/N Y/L/N. My girlfriend.”

Rossi dons the warm expression of an impeccable host and shakes her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I didn’t realize our Dr. Reid kept the company of such pretty girls.” Beside him, she visibly relaxes. Greeting Rossi is only the beginning though. The rest of the team is waiting inside, and he can only hope it goes smoothly. He’s never felt this way about someone before, and the last thing he wants is for tonight to put an end to the fairy-tale life he feels he’s been living in.

At first, it seems fine. He makes introductions, and she makes small talk with his team. She’s trying, she’s trying so hard to make a good impression. All smiles and strong handshakes and that genuine warmth she always exudes. Surely they can tell how much this means to her? To him?

JJ asks how they met. “In a library, actually,” she says. “Which only seems fitting. I was studying and Spencer asked about one of the books I was reading. One conversation led to another, and we just sort… fell together. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.”

“Studying?” JJ repeats. “Are you in a doctoral program?”

Y/N falters, and glances to him. He nods, encouraging her. Lying will only make things worse. The truth always comes out in the end, so it’s better to be honest up front. Nevertheless, it feels like pulling out a thorn, and he tries not to wince at the pain he anticipates.

“I-I’m a student at Georgetown. In the College.”

Conversations with in their earshot suddenly fall quieter, and he tries not to notice the way every head in the room turns ever so slightly their way. JJ blinks, her eyebrows raised. “In the College? How old are you exactly?”

Reid holds his breath. She squeezes his hand. “Um, twenty. I’m a sophomore.” The silence is so pervasive, the entire room is nothing but a series of inhales and exhales.

He feels someone grab his arm, and Hotch says, “Reid, can I speak to you outside?” The unit chief drags him out to Rossi’s patio, and he realizes the rest of the team has followed.

Morgan shuts the glass door behind them, then rounds on him. “Reid, man, what the hell are you thinking? Twenty? That girl’s not even old enough to drink!”

“I’m aware of that,” he says. More than aware. Morgan has no idea how many nights he would lie awake wondering if it was worth it. Going over every reason to say no to her in his mind, trying to keep his distance. It was never enough to keep him away from her. Some things defy logic, explanation and reason.

“What if someone finds out about this?” Hotch asks. “It could cause trouble for you.”

“She’s over eighteen,” Reid answers, indignant. As if he would be so stupid as to get involved with a minor! “And in college. There’s no need for it to be a scandal.”

JJ jumps in, her usual smile a firm frown. “Spence, she could tell someone! She could lie and make something up about you. I mean, what does a college girl want with someone like you anyways? How do you know she’s not just using you?”

It doesn’t escape his notice that they refuse to use her name. She, it, they, that girl. He can’t help but jump to her defense. “You don’t even know her! If you took the time to, you’d realize she’s not like that! Y/N has been nothing but careful and kind. And is it so hard to believe that someone like her is genuinely interested in me? I realize I’m older and I’m not exactly cool, but she likes me for me, and that much I know for sure!”

“Spence, I didn’t mean-”

“Then why did you say that? Why is everyone’s first assumption that she’s a problem? I realize it’s unconventional. I’m well aware that she’s twelve years younger than I am. I get it, okay? But we’ve been seeing each other for a while, long enough for me to know I trust her, and long enough for me to know that I love her! I brought her here because I thought you all would be happy for me!”

An uncomfortable silence settles over them. “We’re only trying to protect you,” Rossi says.

The door opens, and Alex steps out to join them. “Spencer, your girlfriend is really quite lovely,” she says. “I’m so glad you brought her with you.”

Morgan clears his throat. “Blake, it doesn’t bother you at all that she’s still in college?”

Alex shakes her head. “No, not at all. She seems intelligent, sweet, and very mature. I don’t think it has to be a problem. I mean, James and I are nine years apart. He was a TA in one of my college classes. That was far more forbidden, but when you know… you know. I’ve never stopped loving him. I think that if Reid loves her, and Y/N loves him, then that’s enough.” She flashes him a smile, and he hopes that she can read the thank-you in his eyes.

Then he realizes that Alex was the only one who hadn’t immediately joined them on the patio. “Wait, if you’re out here, is Y/N just alone inside?” Alarmed that he’s been so careless, he runs back inside, only to find her happily engaged in conversation with Garcia, who’s laughing loudly at something Y/N has just said. Seeing that, he can finally breathe a little easier. If Garcia is laughing, it’s a yes from her. That’s two of the team down, four more to win over.

The agents slowly file back inside, and when they do, Y/N pulls him aside. “You were talking about me, weren’t you?” she asks. Remarkably observant, she is. He nods, embarrassed. Softly she says, “Maybe this is a bad idea. I don’t want to get you into any trouble. Not with the FBI, and not with your friends. If my age is going to ruin things for you, maybe it’s best if we stop seeing each other.” Each word comes out strained, and she can’t make eye contact. Her body language takes away the fear that she wants to break-up with him, as every part of her is screaming that the last thing she wants is to leave. Which is good, because every part of him wants her to stay.

“No! Of course not! I mean, yes, we were talking about you. But I don’t care about any of that. There are no rules against it, and I don’t care if they don’t see how incredible you are, because I do. It doesn’t matter to me how old you are, I know what I feel for you is real. And I have to believe that eventually, they’ll see that. If nothing else, they have to see how happy you make me.”

She blushes, finally glancing up at him. “You’re sure you’re not embarrassed by me? I mean, I know it isn’t easy to be dating someone so young.”

He takes her hands and kisses her fiercely. There’s no way he could ever be embarrassed by her. Not once has she ever made him feel ashamed. On the contrary, she’s given him new confidence. As someone who had to grow up so fast, she makes him feel young in all the best ways – not immature or childish, but alive. Around her, he finds he has more energy, and everything feels more exciting. As though somehow he has managed to be more present in the world with her. He never realized it was possible to live this way until she came along.

There is more light in his life with her, whether they’re walking in a park or she’s kissing him in the back of his car. She never asks too much of him, but she always challenges him to be better. If there is anything he learned as a twelve year-old child prodigy, it’s that age is merely a number. An arbitrary value that matters very little outside of important legal definitions. Maybe that’s why he finds it strangely thrilling to be with someone twelve years younger than him – he himself spent so much of his life out of his own league, around people so much older than him.

“I don’t want easy,” he says, when he finally pulls away. “I want you. I knew what I was getting into the moment I kissed you, and I have never regretted that. I don’t care what they think – I know that I love you.” It has taken him this long to finally get those three words out, but he wants to show the kind of confidence in their relationship that she has demonstrated. She was the one who believed in them, who was willing to fight for what she felt when he was too scared to.

He doesn’t want to keep this a secret anymore.

“I love you too,” she replies, and he’s never imagined how good it would feel to hear her say that back to him. He’s just about to kiss her again when someone whistles, and they both whirl around to see Morgan standing there, eyebrows raised.

“Don’t stop on my behalf,” he laughs. “Look, we want to apologize. Y/N, we meant no disrespect. When it comes to Reid, we do want him to be happy. That’s why we’re so protective of him. But if you two are happy together, then that’s cause for celebration. So what do you say? We good?”

She smiles. “Yeah. We’re good. Thank you.” They follow Morgan into the kitchen, where the rest of the team offers up amends. Y/N takes it all in stride, and he knows that if she can handle this – his job, his team, all the demands of that life – they’ll be okay. He sends a silent thank you up to Carl Jung for the book that brought them together. Never in a million years did he think he’d be with someone like her.

Rossi proposes a toast, and is doling out glasses of wine, when Morgan says, “Oh! And Y/N, of course. Don’t wanna forget you.” Then he grins and hands her a juice box. “We can’t exactly have the FBI condoning any lawbreaking.”

She bursts out laughing, and rolls her eyes, but Reid can tell that means Morgan is accepting her. It’s not a harsh judgment, but a brotherly sort of teasing. Garcia and Alex have already warmed up to her, and he figures it won’t be too long before Hotch and JJ come around.

It’s late at night when they leave, and she falls asleep as he drives back to her dorm. In the glow of the streetlights, he stares at her, in all her perfection. Peaceful, gentle, and so incredibly lovely. She’s his. And he’s hers. And it’s unconventional, of course, but he’s never done anything traditionally. Unconventional though it may be, that spark is real.

He’s tired of giving himself a thousand reasons why he doesn’t deserve to be happy, when there’s someone right in front of him who proves him wrong each time. With her, he doesn’t have to overthink or overanalyze. It’s easy. As it should be.

This love makes him better. This love is unconventional.

But this love is very, very real.