#bouncing between 7 fics in a few minutes at different hours

[starlit-dreaming]

me: lol yeah ive got a few chapters fleshed out and some planned so it should be done soon!!!!

also me: makES MORE WIP PROJECTS AND DECIDES TO THROW SELF OFF A CLIFF INTO OLD FANFICS TO READ KNOWING THAT IF THEYRE INCOMPLETE THEN THEYLL NEVER BE UPDATED CAUSE THE FANDOM WAS MORE ACTIVE SEVERAL YEARS AGO

[gaps-between-stories]

Fic Preview

Check out a sneak peek up an upcoming installment of my Step-Dad series Bonus (featuring a very special sneak peek at Sofia, who has me wrapped around her finger just as much as her grandfather's).

After four years of university, three years of law school, six months of studying, a 7-hour long exam, and fifteen more agonizing minutes, Alma was finding out her Bar results today. She’d flown back home from Ontario the day after her exam, sleeping for about a week straight before beginning her anxious wait for her results. 

Their kitchen had smelled incredible the past week given the behemoth amount of stress baking she was doing, and Stede and Ed had started pawning off her baked goods to the neighbors, coworkers, anyone who would take them. They were drowning in banana breads and strawberry jams and while they loved her baking, it was getting overwhelming. This was one of her healthiest coping mechanisms so they were more than encouraging, although Ed had had to talk her down from cutting her own bangs about three nights ago. 

Their kitchen had also become a concert hall for Taylor Swift, whose never ending discography Alma still listened to religiously, blasting it at a volume that Ed was convinced was to prevent her from hearing her own thoughts. 

Today their kitchen was in a flurry of chaos as Alma managed to cram seven different baking pans into their oven while scream-singing 1989, checking her phone every three minutes for the time. 

Stede wasn’t helping any by asking her every time she checked her phone whether she’d heard back yet. 

Doug was trying to set up Louis on a facetime call, a seemingly easy task made all the more complicated by the shoddy service the kid had up in the Yukon right now. 

And Mary was currently running late, having missed her ferry over from the island. That last tidbit certainly wasn’t helping soothe Alma’s frayed nerves right now. 

Ed was mostly trying to stay out of the way, counting down the remaining fifteen minutes til the results were posted as patiently as he could. He had been occupying himself by entertaining Sofia, who was more than happy to bounce between all three of her grandfathers to keep her out from under her mother’s foot. But about twenty minutes ago she’d demanded that Ed pick her up, before promptly falling asleep in his arms. 

The music suddenly cut out. 

“Uh-oh.” Doug had tried to mutter it under his breath, tried to keep it to himself, but Stede and Alma’s bat hearing prevented that. 

“Why uh-oh?” They demanded in unison. 

Doug clicked the laptop a few times, Louis’ face frozen on the screen, then checked his phone, grimacing. “Looks like there’s an issue with the wifi. I’m going to need to reset the router.” 

Alma’s head dropped into her hands on the counter, screaming into her palm. Stede moved to show Doug where their wifi router was, which was of course on the second floor, leaving Edward alone with Alma in the now silent kitchen. 

Alma exhaled deeply, dragging her hands down her face. “I’m just gonna go lay down in the street if you need me.” 

Ed shot her a disapproving look. “Orange.” 

She rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Oh come on, I’m not allowed one joke right now?” 

“It’s not the one joke I’m worried about.” 

“Dad, seriously, it’s fine. I’m fine.” She licked the batter off of her spatula to demonstrate how fine she was, gesturing to her growing baking clutter. 

“What time does Eleanor’s flight get it?” He asked, tactfully changing the subject as he gently shifted Sophia on his hip, doing his best not to stir her from her napping. She snuggled her head deeper into the crook of his neck, letting out the smallest of sighs in her sleep as she did. 

“6 pm,” she answered, checking her phone again. Seven minutes. Her fiance was presenting at a conference in the States this weekend and wouldn’t be able to make it before the results came in. “She’s probably somewhere over Nebraska right now,” she groaned.

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Can’t get over her

Word count: 5010     

Genre: A little angst with a little fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader 

Warnings: Little bit of swearing (let me know if I need to add more)

Summary: Reader has always had a bit of a crush on Natasha but it’s unrequited. She lets Tony and Wanda take her to a club and Nat starts acting differently.

A/N: This is not a request, I just felt like writing this story. I’m super nervous about this because I’m not sure if it’s very good but I thought I would post it in case anyone is interested. This is my first x reader fic and first Natasha/Marvel fic so I wasn’t sure how to write it. That being said I hope you enjoy, and if you do, I’m always open to take requests! Btw this is completely unimportant but even though this fic is a medium length, it’s the longest story I’ve actually completed so I feel proud of myself for that!

“Y/n!” A voice rang out loudly disrupting your sleep. 

“Ughhhh,” you groaned, “what do you want?” Instead of an answer the door to your room gets thrown open loudly, allowing all the light to come in. You bury yourself under the blankets, partly to stop your eyes from seeing the light and partly to hide the fact that you were wearing Avengers themed pyjamas. 

“Rise and shine sweetheart!” You hear Tony’s voice mock. Reluctantly you poke your head out of the blankets just enough so you can see and squint at your best friend/mentor just in time to see him rush off, probably to wake up another unfortunate avenger. When you first joined you never expected to like Tony at all, much less consider him your best friend or look up to him. You had heard rumors of him being inappropriate with women and while his jokes most certainly were and you did occasionally catch him staring at your boobs he never did anything creepy to make you uncomfortable and inside he was a good man, way more so than you expected.

All that in mind you decide to get out of bed to see why Tony woke you up because he (probably) wouldn’t wake you up for no reason. Taking a minute to change out of the avenger pyjamas and into some clothes as well as brush your hair you wander downstairs. On the way down you bump into Clint who unlike you has made absolutely no effort to look presentable and looks like he just rolled out of bed. You say a quick hello but he just grunts in return, not even looking at you. Inwardly laughing about how much Clint hates to be awake in the morning you continue downstairs to meet up with the rest of the avengers who are varying degrees of awake. Most seemed to be like you; awake and fairly alert but not happy about it. Clint was probably the most asleep and Tony the most awake considering he was practically bouncing off the walls. Looking around you see everyone except for Thor and Natasha. Thor wasn’t there very often because he wasn’t from earth and Natasha usually avoided group activities at all costs to your displeasure since you had a secret (not very secret) crush on the assassin. 

“So why did you wake us up, at an ungodly hour may I add, and bring us down here?” You ask Tony, curious.

“That information is above your clearance level.” He replies somewhat sarcastically. 

“Does anybody else know what is going on?” you ask. “Or did Tony wake me up for no reason, in which case I’m going back to bed.” They all shift guiltily on their feet except for Clint who seems to be still too tired to pay attention leading you to believe they are all up to something you wouldn’t like. Nobody answers your question so you glare around the room, your eyes landing on Steve. He almost squirms under your gaze and eventually seems to give in.

“I’m sorry Y/N, this wasn’t my idea and thinking back on it we probably shouldn’t-”

“We are giving you a makeover and finding you a date.” Tony cuts Steve off.

“Seriously??!??!??” You half shout. “What makes you think I want to go on some random date you guys set up? If I want to go on a date I can find one myself.”

“Y/N…” Wanda says softly, reminding you to stay calm.

“Don’t Y/n me,” you say, still angrily yet quieter, “I can find my own dates, thank you very much.” Tony gives a small snort of laughter in response to this.

“Sure you can kid. I mean it’s not like you haven’t been on a date in over two years. Or that you’re harboring a crush for our resident scary assassin that prevents you from dating others.” You glare at him but stay silent because all of what he said is true. In your head you excuse the not dating off as being busy because you are a hero yet almost everybody on the team is dating someone and it all seems to be working out fine.

“Look Y/n,” Tony says softly which is a rarity for him, “I know you wish something could happen between you and Romanoff but it hasn’t happened yet and likely never will. You need to get over her and back out there. Besides we weren’t planning on choosing your date for you, we were just planning to go clubbing later with you.”

“Ok,” you agree begrudgingly, “I’ll do it, I just don’t see the need to wake me up at 7 in the morning if we aren’t going out until tonight. Also does everybody need to be here right now?” 

“I second that,” Clint says in a voice still rough from sleep, “just because I helped planning a little bit does not mean I had to wake up early to have this conversation. I’m going back to bed.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes at him before turning to you, “No not everyone has to be here right now, Tony just got a little over excited. As for you, as we said we are giving you a makeover which means we have to go to the hair appointment I set up plus I was thinking we could go shopping since we almost never have time to. Besides Natasha gets back from her solo mission sometime later today, so we wanted to talk with you when she wasn’t around.”

“Ok,” you respond with a little bit of excitement, “when do we leave?”

“Right now! We can have brunch while we’re out!” 

“Yes and then we can go get our nails done and gossip!” Tony says in a fake voice. Both you and Wanda turn to look at him exasperated. “Ok fine, maybe not but I am coming and we are gossiping. Also I need to find a good birthday present for Pepper’s birthday next week.”

“Well that’s good you’re coming because unless you want the same reaction as last year, you’re going to need a lot of help.” Wanda replies. You laugh a little as the three of you leave the tower, Wanda and Tony continuing their mock argument about Tony’s gift giving skills. 

Five hours later and you severely regretted going along with their plan. You were already exhausted and still had so much to do before going clubbing. You had already bought an outfit plus a few others which wouldn’t be so bad except Wanda and Tony made you try on what you believed to be the whole store before they seemed satisfied with your look. You had also gotten your nails done and were currently finishing up a lovely brunch which consisted of waffles, maple syrup and some fruits. That would have been enjoyable if not for the fact that Tony and Wanda alternated between nagging you about not chipping a nail and teasing you about your pathetic love life. It was a well known fact in the tower that while they didn’t hate each other, Tony and Wanda didn’t usually get along well but that was probably for the best since together they were ruthless. They seemed to have decided that the time for brunch was over so sighing you followed them out of the restaurant after Tony paid the bill. That’s the one positive at least, all of it was free for you thanks to Tony. 

Another five hours later and you could honestly say you were looking forward to the night more than you thought you would. You were currently looking in the mirror in your room and although usually you tended to be indifferent towards your body, sometimes even insecure, you had to admit that you looked pretty hot. The dress was in the perfect colour to bring out your eyes according to Wanda and although it was the perfect balance between classy and slutty, revealing a bit of skin and showing off your assets while still leaving it to the imagination. You also were carrying a black purse which matched your nails and shoes. Your makeup was perfectly done, naturally showing you beauty but adding a little extra glimmer. The thing you were most proud of however and the most noticeable change you had made was your hair. Before you had hair that when completely straight could reach your waist but now it was barely long enough to tuck behind your ears. When you first got to the hair salon you were planning on just trimming it and straightening in it but when you got in the chair something came over you and you just decided to chop it all off. 

BANG! The door to your room barges open and Wanda comes flying in. 

“Damn girl! You look hot as fuck!” You blush profusely at her words managing to stammer out a thank you. You have never been good at taking compliments because you always get a little shy and awkward. 

Tony pokes his head around the doorframe and gives a whistle. “You are smoking hot Y/n, I mean if I didn’t have Pepper I would be all over you. You ready to go?” Not waiting for an answer he turns and starts towards the elevator. You follow but not before exchanging an eye roll with Wanda about Tony’s words. The elevator ride is short and smooth thanks to Tony’s engineering so you don’t have enough time to succumb to the urge of placing your hands on the bars and pushing while lifting your feet. The elevator beeps, Jarvis informing  you that you’ve reached the ground level and the doors open. You step out ready to get on with your night but the sight of Natasha just back from a mission freezes you in your tracks. 

“Hi,” you say lamely, “I thought you were supposed to get back earlier today?”

“We had some intel that wasn’t fully correct but luckily it didn’t take too long to fix. You look different, where are you heading off to?”

You glance at Tony and Wanda for help because for some reason you feel awkward telling her but they don’t seem to know what you want so you answer anyways. “We’re going clubbing, I’m kinda nervous since I haven’t been in awhile but Wanda helped me get ready-”

“Hey I helped too!”

You ignore Tony’s protest and continue to speak. “-and I think it should be fun. Also there will for sure be hot girls there which is always a plus.”  

“Seems like it should be fun,” she responds in her monotone ‘I don’t care’ voice that you hate, “Good luck with the girls though, because your hair looked better long, I don’t like it like this.” You don’t usually get offended easily but you feel tears spring to your eyes at her comment. The only good part is that she doesn’t notice because she’s already walking away, swaying her hips, either not knowing or caring that she hurt you.

Tony and Wanda rush over to you. “Oh sweetie,” Wanda comforts while wrapping an arm around you, “don’t listen to her, that’s not true at all!”

“Then why would she say it?” You ask, careful to keep your voice from cracking because you hated showing when you were upset.

“I don’t know and honestly I don’t give a fuck.” Tony replies. “Just don’t think about it too much, the whole point of this night is to get over her anyways.” You give him a small smile at that. Tony is good with words which translates into being good at comforting people. You know he’s right so although the comment is still upsetting you do your best to push it out of your mind. Locking arms with both Tony and Wanda you pull them towards the door and into the waiting limo. You couldn’t help but smile at the way Tony ruffled your hair as you stepped in or how Wanda kept running her fingers over her arm in an attempt to be reassuring. You had the best friends. 

The ride over seemed way shorter than it was supposed to be and before you knew it the limo was stopped to let the three of you out. You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your dress before smiling and stepping out after Tony and Wanda. Nobody seems to have noticed the three of you yet which was a good thing. Being Avengers Tony and Wanda were pretty much celebrities and often got swarmed by groups of fans. Technically you were an avenger as well but like Natasha and Clint it was only because you were a Shield so while you did get recognized it wasn’t as often and only tended to happen if you were with other avengers. You make your way inside, splitting from Tony and Wanda at the door. The plan was for them to go to the bar and look over you from there while you went straight to the dance floor because you preferred to be anonymous tonight and they would ruin that and also you didn’t feel like getting drunk. That was the plan at least but you suspected that they would get too drunk to continue watching over you because it had been stressful lately with a lot of paperwork and they needed to unwind. Wanda had practically confirmed that fact when she gave you permission to leave without them. 

You step over to the dance floor glancing around to see if there looked to be any single women already there. The reason you had chosen this club was because although it wasn’t lgbtq+ exclusive, it was open to everybody and therefore frequented by many members of the community. 

Just as you were glancing around you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Wanna dance?” You spin around to find the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, apart from Natasha. It bothers you that you’re using Natasha as your standard and comparing other girls to her but you brush that off. 

“I would love to!” At your response she takes your hand, pulling you into the crowd and starts to dance. You dance as well and slowly you lose track of time as you loosen up and your dancing with the girl becomes less and less innocent. You can feel yourself caring less about what Natasha thought although as great as this girl seemed to be you knew you weren’t ready for a relationship so you hoped she wasn’t looking for one. After what could be a couple of hours because you’ve completely lost track of time, you and the girl whose name you still don’t know head over to a corner of the room and take a seat on two of the stools that were provided. 

“Hi, I feel like I should know your name by now, I’m Y/n.” You introduce yourself. 

“Wait I thought you looked familiar!” She exclaims. “You’re the Y/n that’s a part of the avengers right?” 

You awkwardly give a nod and gesture towards the bar where you can see Tony and Wanda who have obviously had at least a few drinks each. “Tony and Wanda came with me. They are just over there but I didn’t particularly want the spotlight tonight so I split from them at the door.” 

“I understand, I must admit I have no desire to be famous. I’m Jamie by the way” She says with a cute little giggle before her mood seems to be more solemn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to a literal avenger and if my friends find out they are going to kill me but I’m sorry if you’re looking for a relationship but I just got out of a serious relationship and am not ready for another one quite yet.” 

You let out a relieved sigh. “I’m not looking for a relationship either, because I’m trying to get over my feelings for a friend.” 

“Phew!” She replies. “But tell me more about this ‘friend’ of yours.” You take a minute to think before deciding that Jamie could be trusted. You begin to spill all about your feelings for Natasha and how she didn’t seem interested and what she said to you on your way here. Jamie listens sympathetically the entire time before telling you all about how she thought her ex was the one but it turns out she was emotionally abusive. Even though you just met you talk like old friends, offering advice on serious topics but also chatting about random things. You have 3 more drinks each and after every drink your barriers crumble more and more. Eventually you exchange numbers so you can meet up again although you both agreed it would be a platonic meetup. Just as you were giggling about a joke you couldn’t even remember, you saw Jamie tense up and a second later you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turn your head in anger expecting it to be some creepy guy trying to hit on you but it turns to confusion when you see Natasha. 

“Can we talk?” She asks, giving Jamie a dirty look. “At the tower. Without her.” 

“Why?” You ask. “I’m having fun here Nat.” You specifically say her name as you speak so Jamie knows who you’re talking to. 

“Just come home.” She says not answering your question, instead tugging at your wrist lightly. You sigh not knowing what to do so you glance at Jamie for help. 

She shrugs and then says, “I have a ride home planned if you want to leave, but I wouldn’t mind staying longer if that’s what you want.”

You make a quick decision in your head before responding, “Ok, we’ll go back to the tower but there better be a good reason.” You then turn to Jamie, “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, and then we can figure out when to hang out.”

“Of course,” she agrees leaning forwards to hug you while whispering in your ear, “good luck but remember not to let her treat you badly just because you’re in love with her.” You pull back from the hug and smile at her as Natasha’s hand moves down to your own as she starts walking, pulling you along with her. You can barely think straight, you have no idea what is going on with Natasha or why she’s acting so weirdly. You glance over to Tony and Wanda to see if they’ve noticed what’s going on but just as you suspected they were drunk out of their minds. If they were normal friends you would have worried about them but you knew Tony’s drivers would get them home safe because although Tony was more responsible with Pepper around this was not the first time they’ve had to haul his drunk ass back to the tower. 

Natasha continues to pull you out the door and over to her parked motorcycle where she hands you a helmet and one of her leather jackets. Still not speaking she hops on and motions for you to get on behind her. You swing your leg over the side somewhat awkwardly and scoot forwards so you can grab onto her waist. Once she’s sure you’re secured properly she hits the gas, the motorcycle roaring as it starts. You’ve never been on her motorcycle before so at first you are a bit nervous but after a couple of minutes you start to feel more comfortable. At this point your only nerves come from holding Natasha and wondering what she wants to talk to you about and not the motorcycle ride. Compared to the ride over to the club, this ride feels like it’s taking forever as you start to go over all the important reasons Nat would want to talk to you. You still didn’t know how to feel about everything because she insulted you earlier and now is making you feel important. To protect your feelings you tell yourself that there is probably a mission or a meeting that came up last minute and this isn’t just Natasha wanting to talk. It’s improbable because if that was the case she would have outright said so but you can’t think of any more plausible reasons off the top of your head. Luckily before you can analyze her strange behavior anymore you reach the tower and after parking underground you follow Natasha upstairs into the main living area which is obviously deserted as it is now between 3 and 4 am. 

“So why did you want to talk?” You ask, breaking the silence as you take a seat on the couch. 

“Why did you go to a club?” She asks, also sitting down on the other end of the couch, avoiding your question. 

A surge of anger floods through you and while you don’t shout, you raise your voice a little. “Answer the fucking question Nat. Or did you bring me all the way back just to ask that?” 

She looks somewhat surprised that you raised your voice but she keeps hers even. “I just wanted to know. It looked like you were having fun with whoever that girl is.” 

“Yeah I was.” You respond, still confused. “But how do you know that?” 

Natasha avoids eye contact looking everywhere but you. “I was watching you.” 

“YOU WERE WHAT?” You shout before lowering your voice to avoid waking up the whole tower. “Why the fuck were you spying on me?”  

“I- I wasn’t.” She replies seemingly caught off guard by your tone of voice. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.” 

“Tony and Wanda were with me.” You respond confused. There’s something she’s not telling you that’s making her act weird. She knew you could handle yourself so she obviously was not telling the truth, or at least omitting details. She hasn’t responded to your last statement, instead choosing to look at you in the weird way she does that makes you feel like you’re being interrogated. You decide that if she isn’t going to talk, you won’t either so you pull your phone out of your jacket to check it. You see a text from Jamie saying she got home ok with a little smiley face at the end that causes you to smile. You type back a quick reply, just saying you’re glad she’s safe and that you were with Natasha right now and were probably going to bed soon so you’d text her tomorrow. She wished you luck and goodnight with another little smiley face that made you smile again. Putting your phone away you look back up at Natasha only to find out she’s glaring at you. 

Unsure of what could have changed her attitude towards you, you ask, “What?”

“Who were you talking to?” She asks ignoring your question for the second time tonight. 

You sigh, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business but if you really must know I was just saying goodnight to the girl from the club, Jamie.”

“So that’s her name.” She says wrinkling her nose. Now you’re really confused as to what Natasha is thinking. You couldn’t tell on normal days but usually she acted rationally and never was like this. 

“Why do you say it like that?” You ask. 

“I don’t like her.”

“Why don’t you like her?” 

“I just don’t.” She answers, offering no explanation. Although you do want to find out why Natasha doesn’t like her you’re too tired to spend the time asking questions so you stand up to go to bed. 

“Where are you going?” She demands. 

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time of the night. “I’m going to bed. You wanted to talk to me but won’t actually talk, and when I ask you questions, instead of responding you insult my new friend.”

“Friend?” She questions.

“Jamie.” You say confused because you thought the answer was obvious. 

“Oh.” She responds, “I’m sorry, please stay.” You think about it for a second, deciding to stay so you go to sit down again, but before you do Natasha scoots over to your end of the couch pulling you down into her side. Your entire body freezes up because you’re so unsure of what to do. Natasha never initiated physical contact of any kind but now she was practically hugging you. Seeming to realize how uncomfortable you were, she quickly moves away.

“Sorry,” she mutters, “That was stupid.”

“No, no, it’s fine, you can come back.” You respond quickly. As much as you were uncomfortable, it felt really nice to have her by your side. She somewhat shyly shifts back over to you but this time instead of wrapping her arm around your shoulders she nuzzles into your side, maneuvering your arms so they wrap around her. You have no idea what’s going on right now but you can’t help but smile as you look down at her. She looks cute and relaxed, with her hair covering parts of her face. Thinking about her hair reminds you of her opinion of your new haircut. You bite your lip nervously as you debate asking her about that or not. You definitely don’t want to ruin the cuddly mood that she’s in now but the comment still bothers you, not to mention you never actually found out why she took you home from the club.

“Um Natasha?” You ask in a timid voice. “Is my haircut really that bad?” 

“Of course not, I think it suits you.” She responds smoothly. “I lied to you earlier.”

You smile at that. “Thank you but why?”

She takes a deep shaky breath before speaking. “Promise this won’t change anything between us first, that we will stay friends.” 

“Ok,” You respond, earnest but confused, “I promise.”

“I didn’t like the idea of you going clubbing and coming home with some one night stand or even worse a girlfriend because I have feelings for you. So I was childish and took out my frustrations on you by pretending I didn’t like you. I’m sorry.” She’s looking up at you now, the most nervous you’ve ever seen her. Your mind is exploding with this new information and your heart feels so happy you can’t even believe what is going on. 

“Is that why you were watching me with Jamie at the club and then told me you had to talk to me?”

“Yeah”

After a few more seconds of shocked silence that feels like hours to Natasha you finally speak. “I know I promised that this wouldn’t change anything between us but I don’t think it can be the same.” She starts to pull away from your side but before she can you lean over and press your lips against hers. At first you are hesitant but once she starts kissing back you gain confidence, the kiss getting more heated. After a minute or two you both pull away to catch your breath, smiling at each other. 

Natasha lightly swats you on the arm. “You’re evil.” You giggle a little in response. “I was so worried for a second there, I thought you would be weirded out by that.” She continues also giggling slightly. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that I had feelings for you,” you confess to her, “it was actually Tony and Wanda’s idea for me to go out because we all thought you didn’t like me so they thought it was a good idea to get over you.”

“Well that plan failed,” she says smirking, “I guess you can’t get over me.” 

You look at her and yawn. “No I guess I can’t.” 

At your yawn she glances at the clock. “We better get you to bed, it’s almost the time Steve wakes up for training.” You would like to spend more time with Natasha but you’re too tired to argue so you just nod and follow her as she pulls you up and leads you to your room, holding your hand the whole way. Inside your room she sits on your bed while you change, politely looking away. Once you’re in pyjamas you hold a pair out to her and she looks at you confused. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” You ask her. She eagerly nods, accepting the pyjamas as you open your covers and crawl into bed. As soon as she’s done she turns off the lights and hops in behind you, spooning you. You sigh as you feel her plant a kiss on the back of your head. You can barely keep your eyes open and although you still haven’t talked about exactly what your new relationship with Natasha was yet, you were excited for what was to come. Your last thought before you drifted off to sleep was complete bliss as Natasha kept planting soft kisses on the back of your neck, head and shoulders. 

The next morning you hear a loud pounding at your door. You groan and slowly gain consciousness, smiling as you remember last night and the redhead still cuddling you. Just like yesterday Tony doesn’t bother to wait for you to answer and instead barges straight in. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you spooning and he starts to splutter. You laugh at him with Natasha until he shouts for the other avengers to come. Multiple pairs of footsteps make your way to your bedroom and you see the shocked faces of a few of the other avengers, including Wanda, Steve and Clint. 

“What,” Natasha says speaking up, “can’t a girl cuddle with her girlfriend in peace?” Steve immediately apologizes, ushering everyone out of the room and closing the door. 

You raise your eyebrow. “Girlfriends?”

“I assumed so, if you want.” She responds. 

“I like the sound of that...girlfriend.” You both smile at each other. You definitely did not complete your goal of getting over Natasha and instead fell further in love but you were totally ok with that.

[uswnt-keeper]

Focus Isn’t My Strong Suit

Prompt by @cpaeralricey: Can you do a Kelley x youngersister!reader quarantining together and the reader has to to do School online but struggles cause of their ADHD and just lots of fluff and Kelley helping the crazy kid out. Does that make any sense? If not don’t worry about it.

Note before we start. Sorry if this is terrible, I don’t have ADHD so I don’t really know what it’s like, I tried to make this is fun as possible. Also just for future reference I will no longer be writing Kelley, Alex, or JJ fics. (There will be my final Alex post today, but that’s it).

This royally sucked... like to a whole other level of sucking... does that sound weird? It sounds weird, oh well... whatever. That’s not the point, the point is, I’m stuck doing online school, which normally isn’t that bad, but it all kind of happened all at once.

You see, I’d been flown out to visit Kelley, my older sister, in my spring break which happened to be at the beginning of March. I hadn’t seen her in a long time between her traveling for different teams, and I missed her. I miss all of my siblings honestly. Jerry was off doing business man things, and Erin was off hanging with her besties on some beach somewhere. Kelley was the youngest of my older siblings, but shes 32, I’m 16, big age difference there. I’d been adopted by my family at a young age and so, of course there would be an age difference, but they were family and Kelley and I were close.

Anyway, back to my main point of how much this sucked. The nation went on lockdown literally a week into my stay, I couldn’t leave for the airport or anything and Kelley’s games and trainings were suspended after the SheBelieves cup, even the Olympics were cancelled. So I was stuck, but that wasn’t what sucked, I was with Kelley, that was great, but then came online school.

Online school, for someone like me, is the worst possible option. I struggled with ADHD and paying attention in a normal class, but sitting on my own in a room of distractions would be even worse, I mean... how was I NOT suppose to say dream or cheat on a test?!

Not only that, but I was awaiting my prescription, we had to start ordering it so it shipped to Kelley’s apartment in Utah. So with that going on, we were now in late March and we realized it would be another day before my pills arrives... and I was out.

“Kelley!” I yelled from my bathroom, looking at the empty bottle.

Kelley came rushing in, “What, what is it?!”

“I’m out of meds,” I said hyper focused on the writing on the bottle.

“Oh.... OH WHAT?!” She grabbed the bottle out my hands, shaking the orange container around as if she was trying to summon more pills to her.

“It’s just a day, it won’t be that bad right?” I said and Kelley looked at me with a glare.

“When was the last time you weren’t on your meds?” She asked.

I thought about it for a moment, “Uhh, probably before I was diagnosed.”

“So when you were bouncing off the walls?” She asked and I shrugged, walking out the bathroom.

“Look, I have school in like... oh actually I’m late,” I said looking at my phone, it was only 8, but class started at 7:45.

Kelley groaned as I rushed to my laptop, she had moved to the dining table after finding me staring at my ceiling for an entire class, she was fun as a sister, but her feeling of responsibly over me was unbearable.

I logged into the class with my camera off, apologizing for being late and I made up some random excuse. I looked to Kelley who had just walked out of my room, and she rolled her eyes at me and tossed me t-shirt. I muted myself and looked at her confused.

“You forgot to put one on,” she said before I could ask and I looked down at myself realizing she was right, so I begrudgingly pulled in on with a huff.

After my first class, I had my second period, which was a study hall, and I hated it, all I ever did was stare at off into space, which ended up happening this time too. I went through the whole school day, completely unable to focus on anything as I felt my ADHD consume my movements and thoughts.

“Y/N!” Kelley snapped me out of my trance, I realized she sat in front of me, working on something of her own, “Your teacher asked you a question,” she said.

I unmuted myself to apologize before asking her to repeat the question. The one good thing about ADHD was that I often retained large chunks of info if it was interesting enough, so I had the knowledge to answer the question this time.

When I muted myself again I sighed, it was times liked these I hated my condition, it was unbearable and made me miss so much shit.

“You okay Speedster?” A nickname Kelley had gifted me at the age of 4 when I literally couldn’t stop running around, it’s fitting now as I’ve followed in her footsteps and started playing soccer.

“I hate not being able to focus,” I complained and finally, as I said that, the class was over.

“Well,” Kelley started, closing my laptop for me, “Maybe you should walk around or something, get some focus back?” She asked, I sighed again, it was the best idea so far, “I’ll be here if you if you need me.”

I stood up, taking my computer to my room and threw it on the bed. There was no way I could focus on doing yoga or lifting weights, not at all. All I wanted to do was run around, do anything but what I was doing. It was probably about 5 minutes in my room before I rushed out my room, heading to the kitchen to search Kelley’s cabinets.

“What are you doing in there?” Kelley turned after I rummaged for a few minutes.

“Food,” I replied.

“If your hungry I can make you sandwich or something,” she said, looking away from her computer.

“Ughhhhh,” I complained, “A sandwich sounds so boring,” I groaned and she rolled her eyes at me, going back to the meeting she was in.

I left the kitchen, heading back to my room, sitting on my bed feeling restless. I tried writing and reading, I even did some homework, but eventually I got bored again, and I felt antsy. That is, until I found something I could compare to gold.

“No way,” I whispered to myself, pulling two things out from under the guest bed, “This is gonna be so much fun.”

Kelley’s POV

I was worried about Y/N, I knew she would feel bad about her ADHD, usually I’d go distract her, but I was caught in this stupid meeting for another few minutes. I was listening to what my manager was saying amongst the other people there, until something stung me.

I flinched, looking at my arm, then around me and at the floor, finding a... nerf bullet?

There was a click and another one hit my temple this time.

“Ow,” I complained, looking to where I heard giggling.

It was Y/N of course, hiding behind a cardboard cut out of me with a nerf gun reaching around it.

“Y/N, don’t you���“ She shot me again, laughing hysterically, I turned to my computer, “Listen guys, I’m gonna have to go, got something to sort out,” I said and they nodded as I logged off.

Y/N looked at me with a challenge, if this is what she needed to calm down, then I guess a little match wouldn’t be bad.

“It is so on,” I said, reaching into one of the kitchen cabinets.

“WHAT?! You have a nerf gun just sitting in your kitchen?!”

“Never know when it might come in handy,” I shot at her, the bullet sticking itself right in her forehead and she huffed and smiled.

“I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“You wish,” I replied.

Turns out the one round turned into three hours of an intense and heated nerf battle, ending with Y/N surrendering to the couch where sweat fell from her head.

“Alright, alright, you win,” she said exhausted for once and I plopped down on the couch next to her.

“Told you I’d kick your butt,” I said.

“Surrendering doesn’t mean you kicked my butt,” she complained and I laughed.

“How you feeling?” I asked, looking to her now.

“Exhausted for the first time today,” she said with a smile, “Never thought I’d be happy to be tired.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her in to a hug, “You know there’s nothing wrong with your ADHD right?” I asked and she shrugged, “If you ever feel bad about it, remember that you can totally start a nerf war and it’s completely justified,” I said and she laughed.

“Thanks Kell.”

“Anytime kiddo.”

There was a pause.

“Do you have food?”

“I knew you wanted something.”

She laughed again and we spent the rest of the night eating and watching movies until we fell into a deep sleep.

[ificanthaveu]

Last Name || Calum Hood

Description: The bold line you’ve drawn between what you do and who you work for gets blurred when Calum Hood comes into the picture. Old habits die hard. 

A/N: Ahhh!! My first Calum fic! My first non-Shawn fic! I had this idea circulating for a while and finally committed to writing it and am absolutely in love with how it turned out. I hope you all love it!! also big shoutout to @cal-puddies​ because i’ve been binge reading her Calum fics which have been making me feel some typa way and ended up writing this because of it

Word Count: 6.8 k

These events were prime real estate for you. 

You bounced around from group to group of people dressed like they were CEOs. Pantsuits and business dresses, polished dress shoes, and stilettos that could kill. Looks that could do the same. 

The American Music Awards after-party was one of the few times of the year where you could meet the bodies behind the artists. The people that got them places on time, scheduled their tours, and recorded their music. 

Your goal, as always, was to get just a few more of them to add you on LinkedIn and remember your name when a new opportunity came up that was in your wheelhouse. 

The divide in the party was clear. A direct line between the faces and the nobodies. The artists and the personnel. 

This was typical, but tonight, something felt off. 

You felt the eyes burning in your back from across the room. You weren’t used to stares from the other side, only getting looks of acknowledgment from people near you. 

But you ignored it, knowing your goal was more important than some stuck up artist who thought your ass looked great in those pants and wanted to take you home tonight. 

So you introduced yourself to Camila Cabello’s manager and prayed whoever this was would give up and find someone else. 

He asked you about your current project, and you gladly explained it to him in detail, still trying to shake the chills down your back. 

When he turned to say a quick hello to someone who walked by, you took the opportunity to scan the room to find the culprit, but he was back to your conversation just when you thought you met someone’s eyes. 

“Excuse me,” you heard someone say as he brushed past you, his hand grazing across your back as he made his way to the bar.\

You turned around to watch his back as he walked away. You knew who it was. But you turned back to your current conversation and prayed he’d still be at the bar once you were done here. 

Once you excused yourself after he got distracted, you took the opportunity to go after the man who was sending chills down your body. 

He could hear the steady, incessant clicking of your heels from a mile away, and the smirk on his face only grew as he knew his risky stunt worked. 

“Mr. Hood,” you said as you leaned against the bar and signaled for the bartender before turning towards him. You smiled the same smile that got you jobs and said, “It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Ah, so you know me, but I’m afraid I don’t know you,” he said, looking at you as he took a sip of his drink. 

The bartender handed you a glass of white wine before you turned towards his lingering gaze. 

“I don’t expect you to,” you said before sitting on the stool. 

He followed suit and sat down as well. 

“I don’t expect those people to know me,” you said gesturing to the other side of the room. “However, I’d like to think a good chunk of these people do.”

You crossed one leg over the other, turning your stool to face him as he gave you a confused look. 

“That didn’t really answer my question.”

“You didn’t ask a question. You just stated you didn’t know who I was.”

“I guess so,” he said, your confidence only making him more intrigued. 

“I’m [Y/N],” you said, sticking your hand out like a business deal. 

He shook it, and you felt shocks shoot up your arm. 

“Great to meet you,” he said. 

“You as well.”

“So, how do you know me?” He pried. 

“Well, I’ve been a fan for a while, since before I ended up doing this,” you said, gesturing to the crowd. 

“Was I your favorite?” He asked, a smirk adorning his face again. 

You laughed before taking a sip, your reaction leaving him on the edge of his seat. 

“I’ve always been an Ashton girl,” you said, a small smile breaking through. 

“Ouch,” he said, his hand resting on his chest. “He does have a girlfriend.”

“Didn’t think I had a chance anyway,” you said through a laugh. 

“I may know another member though that might be interested,” he tested. 

“Hm,” you started. “I thought Luke also had a girlfriend?”

He shook his head at you, downing the rest of his drink. 

You glanced around the room quickly, noticing the signs of many of these people attempting to leave. 

“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” he said softly. 

“I know,” you said through a smirk. “Well, Mr. Hood, I should be going.”

“Can I get your number? And perhaps a last name?” He asked before you turned away. 

“You can get one of those things,” you said as you took the phone out of his outstretched hand, typing your number in, leaving just your first name as the contact. 

“Well, [Y/N], you’ll hear from Michael soon, he might be looking for a side chick,” Calum said, tucking his phone away. 

You let yourself laugh at that one, shaking your head before pushing yourself off the stool. 

“Perfect, he was always my second favorite.”

“Are you saying I’m in the bottom half?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

With that, you walked away, feeling his eyes burn on your back once again as you beelined it towards Kelsea Ballerini’s newest manager. 

It wasn’t even twelve hours later when a text from an unknown number popped up on your screen. 

Your roommate Tayshia grabbed it before you had a chance. 

“‘Can I take you out tonight?’ Who the hell is this?” She said, turning the screen towards you. 

You snatched it out of her hands and tucked it in your bag. 

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re doing this again,” she said, rubbing her forehead. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you called from the kitchen as you grabbed a granola bar and a protein shake before you had to go to your meeting. 

You looked up, and she was leaning against the doorframe, a knowing look on you face.

“Who is it this time?” She asked. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you said through a sigh, throwing your bag over your shoulder and walking to the door. 

You opened it and leaned in once more, looking at her. 

“It’s Calum Hood,” you rushed out. 

“What? Are you joking?” She yelled. 

“I really wish I was,” you said, resting your head on the open door. 

“You’re blurring a very bold line here,” she reminded you. “This could destroy your career if you aren’t careful.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll last two dates max. You know me. I have things to do. See you later,” you rushed out before shutting the door. 

You pulled out your phone once in the elevator, staring at the text. 

Before you had a chance to respond another text popped up. 

This is Calum by the way. I assumed you’d know, but maybe you have other guys also trying to win your affection? I would never know since all I know is your first name. 

You shook your head and fought the smile as the elevator opened, and you tucked your phone away once again. 

You made it to your meeting with a minute to spare, taking out your things before typing a quick response to Calum, sending him your address. 

And now you have my address, pick me up at 7. 

— 

Your new floral dress flowed as you looked frantically around your apartment for your favorite heels. 

“Tay,” you yelled. “Where are my light blue heels?”

Her hand shot out of her room with the pair dangling from her hands. 

You grabbed them just as a knock came from the door. 

Tayshia peaked out of her room and looked at the door. 

“Your latest mistake awaits,” she said as she gestured dramatically to the door. 

“Save it,” you said before shutting her in her room. 

You opened the door to see Calum standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets. 

To say you took his breath away was an understatement. 

The dress you were wearing and the sparkling smile on your face were a stark contrast to the dark blue pantsuit and fake smile you had on the night before. 

“Come in,” you said before shutting the door behind him. 

You leaned against the fridge as you pulled your shoes on and grabbed your purse. 

“What’s the plan, Hood?” You asked as you looked at him. 

He shrugged, leaning against the island. 

“There’s a small open-air wine bar downtown that has live music tonight,” he said. “However, you can’t use it as a networking event.”

You rolled your eyes at him before following him out the door. 

“I only network at work events, and last night was a work event,” you reminded him. 

“And where do you work again?” He asked, leading you out to his car. 

“Not important,” you said, climbing into the front seat. 

He shut the door behind you, shaking his head in confusion. 

His hand found his way to the bottom of your back as you walked into the bar, leading you towards a standing table near the edge. 

You waited there, responding to frantic texts from Tayshia as Calum grabbed drinks. 

He set your wine in front of you, taking a sip of his own. 

“Didn’t see you as a wine guy?” You pointed out. 

“Well, this is a wine bar, so they have approximately two different beers. I also felt like they’d judge me if I ordered anything but wine,” he said.

“I believe it. We have a place like this back home, just a few blocks from my parents’ house, and I asked for a beer. If looks could kill…” you trailed off. 

“Where’s home?” He asked. 

“New York,” you said. “As in New York, New York, middle of the city, New York.”

“Ah,” he said with a nod of his head. “Had to clarify?” He questioned, a smirk appearing on his face again. 

You shrugged while taking a drink. 

“Some people say New York and mean some suburb four hours away. It’s not the same,” you explained. 

He didn’t have time to respond as the first band introduced themselves. He took this opportunity to join you on your side of the table with the excuse that he wanted to see better. 

His arm brushed against yours, and goosebumps rose instantly. 

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. 

You pushed that thought to the back of your head as you let yourself lean into him just enough for him to notice. 

He didn’t move from that spot for the rest of the night, even when the bands were done. 

Your hand grazed his arm along the table as you told him about your first college party. 

The look he gave you while you spoke, the complete intrigue and adoration in his eyes, would stick with you far longer than you were willing to admit. 

As it got darker outside and you started getting looks as the waitresses were trying to close up, Calum’s eyes met yours and gestured with his head to the door. 

You followed him out, this time with your hand tangled in his. 

“I’ll be honest, I don’t want tonight to end just yet,” he said as you walked to the car. 

“Looks like we can agree,” you replied. 

He squeezed your hand before dropping it as you both got into his car. 

“Where to?” You asked, leaning your elbow on the center council. 

He leaned back in his seat as he started the car. 

“I’m trying to not have this sound suggestive, but would you like to come back to my place?” He asked. 

By the soft look on his face, you knew he was being honest, so you nodded your head. 

You didn’t expect to fall asleep on his couch, limbs tangled together after talking all night. 

Your phone ringing snapped you out of your sleep, the arm around your waist weighing heavier than just the body weight. 

You glanced at the contact displayed across your screen and stood up quickly, hitting answer and stepping outside on his balcony. 

You paced back and forth as you spoke to your client on the other line, the sweatpants of Calum’s dragging along the cement. 

Calum woke up moments later, rubbing his eyes and glancing around. 

The panic left him as he saw you on the balcony. Your eyes met his through the glass, and you sent him a smile of reassurance and a mouthed “sorry.”

He waved you off before going to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. 

He heard your feet patter across the floor before you came through the doorway and joined him in the kitchen, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Sorry about that,” you apologized before grabbing the mug waiting for you. 

“Work?” He asked. 

You simply nodded your head, checking the time before shaking your head. 

“I have to meet with him earlier than expected, so I do have to get going,” you said as his arm wrapped around your waist. 

“Leaving so soon?” He asked with a puffed out lip. 

You took the opportunity to press a long kiss to his lips before pulling away and collecting your things. 

“I’ll take you home,” he said as he handed you your shoes. “When can I see you again?”

“Whenever you want to,” you said, pulling on your dress and slipping on your shoes. 

“Tonight?” he asked with a sleepy smile. 

You ignored the butterflies and nodded your head. 

“I have an event, but I should be done by 10:00. We can just hang out at my place if that’s ok?” You suggested. 

“Sounds perfect.”

He dropped you off in front of your apartment complex after a quick kiss and a promise to see him tonight. 

You leaned against your door after you shut it, closing your eyes for a moment and living in the post-date bliss. 

“What are you getting yourself in to?” You whispered to yourself. 

“I second that,” Tayshia said as she appeared out of nowhere. “Not very you to stay over on the first date.”

“I know,”  you said through a sigh. 

“[Y/N], what are you doing?” she asked for what felt like the millionth time. “You’re going to hurt the poor guy.”

“I’m not going to hurt him, maybe this one won’t be like the others,” you defended. 

“You can’t promise me that.”

You paused, leaning against the wall. 

“You’re right. I can’t.”

As promised, you saw Calum that night. And the next night. And the one after that. 

You ignored all of Tayshia’s warnings as well as the ones in the pit of your own stomach. 

The minutes ticked by quickly and with every moment you spent with him, you forgot about any responsibilities you had. 

Your meetings grew more often, your bags beginning to be packed, and flights and hotel rooms booked. 

You dodged every question he had about the ample amount of meetings you were in. 

You sat on your couch, alone with a glass of wine, staring at your suitcases hidden in the alcove by your front door, a plant and a prayer placed in front of them that he wouldn’t notice.

Before you thought too much, a knock sounded, and you greeted Calum with a kiss, tugging him in to join you on the couch. 

You spent the night entangled in his arms for the twelfth night straight. You ignored every call, text, and email as you tried to forget your obligations, instead losing yourself in the way Calum kissed the top of your head and whispered in your ear.  

With the excuse that you had an early morning meeting, you managed to get him out of your apartment without spending the night. 

You walked him out to his car, and when he kissed you goodbye, you kissed him a moment longer than usual, holding him a little tighter. 

“See you tomorrow?” He questioned as he got in. 

You swallowed hard and nodded your head.

“Tomorrow,” you said with a soft smile. 

You leaned in his car, pressing one more kiss to his lips before watching him pull away. 

You sat on the ledge outside your complex and begged your tears not to fall. 

You’ve done this before. You’ve done this many times before. You’ll get over it. 

Tayshia was waiting for you when you got back inside. 

“Did you tell him?” She asked, her arms crossed sternly across her chest. 

“I never do,” you said quietly. 

“I thought this one was different.”

“He is,” you choked out. “That’s what makes this so hard.”

Tayshia softened immediately and pulled you into a hug as you cried against her shoulder. 

“Whatever is meant to be, will be,” she reminded you. “Time and distance don’t really matter.”

And that’s what you kept repeating to yourself as you boarded your flight, ignoring Calum’s text asking you what time he could pick you up.

Calum checked his phone periodically throughout the day, expecting a response as quickly as you usually did. 

After spending some time in the studio, he had a rare moment alone. 

And he thought about you. 

He hadn’t felt this way about someone in forever, and he couldn’t think about you without smiling. 

He absolutely adored you. 

So when you didn’t respond all day, he brushed it off. You’d been busy lately, and he understood that. 

Granted he didn’t know why. 

Granted he knew almost everything about you except anything about your job or your last name. Which he thought was weird since those were the two things you told someone. 

But he brushed it off. 

As you watched the final rehearsal, you looked down at your phone to see a second text from Calum. 

It’s ok if tonight doesn’t work, I know you���ve been busy. Keep kicking ass, sweetheart. 

You took a deep breath, trying to forget about him as you focused on your task at hand. 

“You good?” Louis asked as he sat on the edge of the stage, taking a drink of water. 

You nodded your head, leaning against the stage next to him.

“Yeah, what about you? Feeling good about all of this?” You asked. 

“It’s perfect. You’ve outdone yourself again,” he said as he patted your shoulder before standing up and walking away. 

You released your breath and shook out your tense arms. 

You’d forget about him soon. 

Calum woke up the next morning alone for the first time in nearly two weeks. He checked his phone immediately with still no word from you. 

He clicked over to Instagram, scrolling mindlessly as you were the only thing he could think of. 

Which is why he was sure he imagined you in the picture he scrolled past. 

But he paused, scrolled back up, and looked again. 

It was a basic picture, a woman leaning against the stage and a man sitting on the edge talking to her. 

Except the woman was you. 

And the man was Louis Tomlinson. 

And the caption was “Tour starts tonight! Another perfect one put together by my amazing team, but especially this one right here, @yourusername.”

He stared at the post far longer than he probably should have, but still not long enough for everything to fully click. 

You just left on tour. 

You didn’t even say goodbye. 

He clicked over to your profile, learning your last name and your occupation within half a second. 

[Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Tour manager. 

His eyes wandered down farther to read your short and sweet bio. 

“Always on tour.”

It was that simple sentence that sent him over the edge, throwing his phone across the room and ignoring the cracking sound in favor of tugging at his hair and praying he didn’t see what he just did. Praying he didn’t actually see glimpses of pictures of you with artists on tour and that dazzling smile on your face that he thought only he knew. 

The next two weeks went by in a hazy blur as he spent most of his time in the studio trying to channel what he felt into something useful but with little luck.

He sat in the same spot, plucking the same three chords and thinking about you.

“Alright, what the hell is up with you?” Ashton snapped. 

Calum glanced up at him and sighed, setting his bass to the side. 

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing, you’ve said five words in the past two weeks,” Ashton pointed out. 

“I was seeing someone,” he said softly.

“And you didn’t tell us?” Luke said, the confusion evident.

“I just felt really good about this one, and I didn’t wanna jinx it,” he mumbled as he ran his hands over his face.

“Clearly that didn’t work,” Michael chimed in. 

“Yeah, no shit,” he snapped.

“Who was she?” Ashton asked.

“Her name’s [Y/N],” he paused. “[Y/N] [Y/L/N].”

“That sounds familiar,” Luke said slowly.

“She’s Louis Tomlinson’s tour manager. Along with like a million other artists.”

They all went silent, well aware that Louis just left on tour a few weeks ago.

“Yeah, but you knew that was coming right?” Ashton tried to reason.

“No, I didn’t,” Calum snapped. “She never told me her last name. Never told me her occupation. Never told me where she worked. Never told me why she was really at the AMAs that night. And then she left. She just fucking left. Without telling me. Without saying goodbye. And I haven’t heard from her since.”

The room went silent again as no one knew what to say. Calum leaned forward and ran his hands over his face and sighed. 

Someone began a different conversation, back to the song they’d been working on as Calum continued to wallow. 

“Just go see her if you’re going to keep doing this,” Ashton snapped. “You can find out where she is with a Google search.”

Calum stayed silent and just stared at him. 

“Ok,” Calum said as he stood up and started grabbing his things. 

“You’re serious?” Luke said.

“Dead serious, see you guys soon,” he said before leaving. 

A quick Instagram search told him Louis had a show tonight in Denver, and he was on the first flight there, despite protests from every person who found out he was going. 

He stood outside the arena for longer than initially intended. He glanced at his phone to see that people would be let in in thirty minutes. He was able to pull some strings and get in before then. 

He went in through a back door and wandered into the empty arena. The general admission area was bustling with stagehands and security as they prepared. 

He stood near the back as he watched multiple people sprint around before he heard the obvious clicking of your heels.

You walked right past him, jogging towards someone in the booth with a tablet in your hand, talking quickly and pointing at different things. 

The soft version of you he fell for a few weeks ago seemed to be long gone in replace for the woman he met at the AMAs. 

You had a blazer on and skinny black pants that hugged you in all the right ways. Your black stilettos looked like they could kill him if you wanted to. 

The concert shirt underneath the blazer was different but expected. 

As he watched you interact with multiple people on your team with a stark smile and too much pointing, he felt himself hesitate. 

What was he even doing here?

You left. 

You left him without a goodbye. There could be a reason, but frankly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear it, scared it would only hurt more. 

So he turned quickly and walked out the same way he came in. 

As you finished talking to the person in charge of one of the cameras, you heard the patter of feet walking away relatively quickly. 

You turned around to see someone with dark hair and hunched shoulders in the distance walking out, but you brushed it off to just be someone from the arena and went back to your task at hand. 

You’d been on tour for two weeks now and had everything down to a science. Everyone knew what they were doing and there were even rare moments where you just got to sit and watch for a song or two. 

You admired how passionate so many of the fans were as they belted out every word to every song without missing a beat. 

You stood backstage and waited for Louis to come running off. The same as every show, he gave you a big hug before high fiving everyone else near. You joined him in his dressing room as always to go over anything that went wrong. 

You sat on the chair in the corner of his room with some notes on your tablet, before you could say anything, he spoke up. 

“Do you know who I heard was here?” He said. 

You didn’t bother looking up at him as you said, “Who?”

“Calum Hood.”

You felt your heart drop to your feet as you looked up at him, knowing he knew nothing of what happened just weeks ago. 

“I’m just confused why he didn’t come to say hi or even stay for the show. Stacey said she saw him hang around for a little bit before the show and then suddenly just leave,” Louis said with a shrug. 

You wiped your hands over your face and took a deep breath, knowing you couldn’t keep avoiding this. 

But you were going to keep trying. 

So you swallowed hard before reading your notes. 

Calum was on the first flight back to LA, but he was in no hurry to see anyone. He sat in his car in the airport parking lot for a lot longer than necessary, occasionally resting his head on the steering wheel. 

He shouldn’t have gone in the first place, but now he was regretting why he left when you were just feet away from him. 

He found himself driving the familiar route to your apartment and banging on the door. 

Tayshia swung the door open and her eyes went wide at the person standing there. 

“Calum,” she said softly. “Uh, come in.”

He came inside, leaning against their kitchen counter with his head in his hands. 

“Why are you here?” She said carefully. 

“Why did she leave?” Calum snapped. 

Tayshia took a step back and went to sit on a stool against the island. 

“I went to see her,” he said as he looked up at her. 

Tayshia’s eyes went wide again before he continued. 

“I flew to fucking Denver. I was in the arena, and I saw her and I froze,” he paused to take a deep breath. “Because if she left without saying goodbye, then there must have been a reason, and I didn’t want to hear it.”

“Then why are you here?” Tayshia asked. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. 

She didn’t reply that time as she let him sit with his thoughts. 

He sat next to her on a stool and leaned his head in his hands as she rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“This isn’t the first time she’s done this,” Tayshia confessed. 

Calum’s head snapped up to look at her. 

“She gets really anxious before these tours. She drives herself absolutely insane. But if there’s a guy around who will hold her at the end of the day, it’s easier. But she knows it’s hard to maintain once she leaves, so she does it without saying goodbye,” she explained. “I’ve been begging her to stop, and she said she would go and see a fucking therapist for once…” she trailed off and met his eyes. 

“And then she met you.”

He felt stupid. He was just a game to you. 

“And she told me you were different,” she continued. “And she says that every time, but I think she meant it this time.”

“Why?” He asked, his voice sounding hoarse. 

“She cried,” Tayshia said simply. “In the four years I have lived with her, I have never seen her cry over a guy. But when she said goodbye to you that last night, she came inside and cried.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are different,” she said. “[Y/N] is going to try to forget you like she always does, but I know it won’t work with you. She was different when she was around you. She had a different walk. A different smile. A different glow. You weren’t just a pair of arms to her.”

Calum went silent as he tried to figure out how to handle this. He went back and forth between thinking he actually was different for you or if he was just another chess piece in your game. 

He stood up without saying anything else and walked out. 

Tayshia’s phone was ringing thirty seconds later. 

You waited patiently on the other end for her to answer as you stood right outside Louis’s dressing room. 

“Hey,” Tayshia said as she picked it up. 

“Cal was here,” you rushed out. “He left without saying anything to anyone.”

“Wow,” she said silently. 

“What the fuck do I do, Tay?” You asked frantically. 

“You have to figure this one out on your own,” she explained. “You clearly really have something with him, so call him.”

“I can’t,” you choked out, willing yourself not to cry over him again. “I’m on tour. I can’t just maintain something like this.”

“I think that boy would do anything for you,” Tayshia said. 

You nodded along, even if she couldn’t see. 

“Just talk to him. The worst he can say is no,” she said before hanging up.

You leaned against the wall behind you, hitting your head against it twice. You stared down at his contact in your phone, and your thumb almost pressed it. 

“Ready to go?” Louis said as he popped out of his room. 

“Yeah, let’s head out,” you said through a breath before tucking your phone away and trying to forget. 

You laid on your hotel bed and stared at the ceiling, the thoughts in your head running wild. Every few moments, you’d look at his contact on your phone or a picture you had snapped of him. You’d almost pressed the call button seventeen times, but every time, you didn’t do it. 

You didn’t want to hear his voice. You were so scared he hated you. 

You were terrified you’d just get sent to voicemail. 

So you just didn’t do it. 

For the next few weeks, you did everything in your power to forget about him. It had been just over a month since you left which was double the time you had been seeing him, but you were still thinking about him constantly. People started noticing, but you always brushed it off as stress. 

Tayshia visited one night, and you felt the weight fall from your shoulders as you could finally talk to someone about it. 

The two of you laid on the bed in your room and faced the ceiling. 

“Calum came to our apartment,” Tayshia said out of nowhere. 

You shot up and turned around to look at her. 

“When?”

“The same night he went to the show in Denver,” she said quietly. “He told me everything.”

You ran your hands over your face and tried to calm your breathing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because you created this mess, and you need to get yourself out of it,” she snapped. “You’ve done this to so many guys, and I just let it go because I get it. I really do. But Calum is a really great guy who is head over heels for you, and you can’t get your head out of your ass to realize that.”

“What did he say?”

“That’s between me and him.”

You pulled your legs underneath you as Tayshia wrapped an arm around you, running her hand up and down your arm. 

“His tour started a week ago,” Tayshia said after a few moments. 

“I know,” you replied. 

“You always say that no one understands, but he does,” she said. “He lives the same life you do.”

“That’s why it would never work,” you choke out. 

“You don’t know that.”

You sniffled before pulling out your phone to look at their tour schedule. 

“They’re in Chicago,” you said. “Where the hell am I right now?”

“Minneapolis,” she reminded you. 

“I have the next two days off,” you said as you looked at her. “That’s a short flight.”

Her eyebrows shot up as she looked at you, waiting for you to say you were joking. 

“You’re just going to show up?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. 

The team had a quick meeting the next morning before everyone dispersed to head to the next city or spend the next two days back home. 

You hugged Tayshia tightly in the terminal before she left to go back to LA. 

You waited around as your flight got delayed three different times. You went between checking the current time to checking the concert time and verifying you had a badge to get in. 

You finally boarded the plane and stared anxiously out the window the entire time. 

Meanwhile, Calum went on like he always did. 

He was finally shaking the feeling of you, but you still lingered. 

Anytime he heard heels click he couldn’t help but hope he’d turn around and see you. 

But he was two weeks into this tour, and he was trying his hardest to not show how this was killing him. 

He ran out on stage, playing everything like he always would. 

He took a moment during a song near the middle to scan the outskirts of the crows like he always did. He found it funny watching the parents and boyfriends on the edges with their arms crossed and uninterested stares. 

And then he saw you. 

You had your arms crossed and your eyes locked with his. You had no expression on your face, hoping he didn’t actually notice you. 

He looked away before looking back and squinting, knowing it was you standing right there. 

You felt the familiar chills run down your spine before you tore your eyes away from his. 

They had started a new song, but Calum still wasn’t playing. A few concerned glanced and a head shake, and he was back to playing. 

He found himself glancing at you every few minutes just to reassure himself that you were there. 

His heart beat out of his chest and yours did too as the concert came to its end. 

You watched people clear out of the arena as you slowly made your way to get backstage. You flashed them your badge and walked down the hallway to find him. 

His back was turned to you as he drank a bottle of water. 

“Hey,” you said softly. 

He turned around quickly, swallowing hard before sending you a sad smile. He glanced down at your feet, knowing he usually heard you coming from a mile away. 

But you were wearing sneakers. 

“Hey,” he choked out. 

He gestured to an empty room right next to him, and you walked in and sat on the arm of the couch in the corner as he stood on the opposite side, leaning against a wall. 

“Word got around,” you started. “I know you were there in Denver.”

He simply nodded his head, not meeting your eyes. 

“Tayshia tell you?”

“No, actually,” you said with a shrug. “She only told me yesterday that she knew. Someone in the crew recognized you. Louis told me.”

“Ah,” he said in acknowledgment. 

“Why didn’t you say something?” You asked. 

He sighed and finally looked at you. 

“Because you left without goodbye, and I knew there had to be a reason. I wasn’t sure anymore if I wanted to hear it,” he said with a slight nod of his head. 

“My reason kind of sucks,” you admitted. “But I have a feeling Tay told you.”

He nodded his head. 

“I just…” you trailed off, running your hands over your face. “These things are hard. I work for months to get it perfect and then I’m there for every show and something always goes wrong. I barely have time to call my parents.”

“I know,” Calum said. “I do the same fucking thing,” he said a little louder than intended. 

You ignored the snap in his voice and said, “I get so stressed, and it’s easier to just be with someone who doesn’t know about any of it for a little bit before I have to deal with it 24/7.”

“But I understand,” he reminded you. “I get what it’s like to leave everything behind for upwards of a year. And you know that. We’re in the same damn business, and I didn’t know that until Louis posted a picture of you.”

You stayed silent, staring at your feet. 

“Why are you here?” He asked. 

“You’re not just another guy to fill the space,” you admitted. “I thought you would be, but you’re not. And I shouldn’t have left without telling you what was going on and saying goodbye. It’s the only thing I’ve thought about for the past month.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, finally meeting your eyes. “And I hate it. I hate that you could up and leave and not say goodbye and that still all I do is think about you.”

“I regret it, Cal. I do,” you said as you stood up. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I haven’t had an actual relationship since high school because I’ve been so damn busy that nothing goes past two weeks. But I’m trying to fix that.” 

Your voice sounded hoarse as you waited for him to say something. 

“You cried the night before you left?”

“Like a baby,” you said through a forced laugh. 

He smiled back at you, the sad look on his face slowly dissipating. 

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing or how this works, but I don’t care,” you said, slowly making your way closer to him. “I don’t care if the only time we can talk is at 2:00 in the morning for five minutes or the only time we can see each other is in passing at an airport. Because I’m fucking crazy about you, and I don’t want to keep pretending I’m not.”

He reached out and grazed his fingertips along the side of your hand before hooking his fingers in between your own. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m really sorry.”

He simply nodded his head, pulling you close to him and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your body molded against his as your arms wrapped around his middle. You could hear his heartbeat as you closed your eyes and rested your head on his chest. 

“I don’t have to fly back for another 36 hours,” you whispered. “That might be the longest we have for a while.”

He pulled away and rested his hand on your cheek, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

You stood on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck before he pecked your lips a few times. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered. 

And 36 hours later, after a day of watching Calum in his element, you were at the airport, wrapped tightly in his arms and ignoring the speaker telling you your flight started boarding. 

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Three weeks,” you said through a sigh. “That’s nothing.”

“You left me for over a month, so I think you can do it,” he said through a smile. 

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, tossing your backpack over your shoulder before pressing one last kiss to his lips. 

He watched your back as you walked quickly to security. He watched you pull off your pristine white sneakers and your denim jacket, throwing them in a bin with your phone. 

When you got through the final check, you turned around and locked eyes with him before blowing him a kiss. 

He caught it and returned it before watching you again as you disappeared around the corner. 

You didn’t cry. 

Instead, you texted the team that your flight was on time and told Tayshia that everything was perfect. 

You found your seat near the back of the plane and went to turn your phone on airplane mode until a notification popped up that made you smile in a way no one would really understand. 

[Instagram] New Follower: Calum Hood

--- 

Reblog! Reply! Like! Follow! Send me some love! Come talk to me about my fics! I love to talk!

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[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 16 (Mafia AU)

Tags: Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Warning:  Lemon goodness!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15

~~*~~

Read Chapter 16 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

As heated as Edge’s kisses were, the warmth dissipated quickly when Edge led him out of the green room. Standing outside the door was one of the Dog guards, his expression the same blandly impassive as they usually were and that was enough to set Rus firmly back into reality.

Rus stole a single glance at that furry, emotionless face before he looked away, a stupid blush rising in his cheekbones. He couldn’t help wondering if this Dog were part of the security team that had seen him dancing on the cameras, but there was no way in hell he was going to ask. Better to banish that idea from the ol’ memory place and move right on.

Maybe Edge felt sort of the same or maybe he was still feeling a little handsy after everything. Instead of leading the way, he slid an arm around Rus and guided him to walk beside him, settling a large, warm hand at the base of his spine like a sort of backwards leash. Edge was wearing gloves, but they weren’t much of a barrier and the light touch against his exposed vertebrae made Rus shiver.

This was…this was fine, and he trotted along beside him as quick as he could without outright running, partly to keep up with Edge’s long strides and partly because the floor was damn cold on his bare feet.

If there was one thing he’d learned from all this it was that sexy didn’t have much in common with comfort, and that was the truth.

The path they took was different from the one this morning and led to an elevator instead of stairs. Crowded into the lift, Rus didn’t think he’d ever felt more awkward in his life as he stood there between Edge and the Dog, tarted up in the clothes Mona chose for him like the shiny jam-filling between two claustrophobically oversized slices of bread. He practically darted out when the doors opened, waited only long enough for Edge to gather him up again, herding his lost sheep through the hallways.

Edge didn’t seem to feel the need for all the tricksy backwalking that the Dogs usually did and led a straightforward path around the corner to a door in the middle of the hall.

Rus blinked, confused. “this isn’t my room.”

He was pretty sure about that, anyway. All the doors were exactly the same and Red’s tricksy tricks made it hard to keep tabs on anything, but as confusing as the corridors were, Rus knew for sure that there was a wall sconce across from his room, not a painting. Probably both were rigged with spy cameras or microphones, angel knew what.

“It isn’t,” Edge agreed. A press of his hand against a panel opened up a familiar keypad and Edge tapped in a code, the numbers obscured from Rus’s view. “It’s mine. Your brother can wait a little longer to see you.” He slanted Rus a knowing look. “I’m gathering he didn’t take your chat about us very well.”

“not really.” Rus blinked hard against the sudden stinging in his sockets, trying not to think about the accusations Blue flung at him.

He followed Edge into the room, the same room as earlier, had it only been a few hours since he’d been sitting on that wide sofa, healing Edge from the burns whose marks were still faintly visible on his bones? This entire week was rushing by at lightspeed, so many things coming at him at once.

Earlier, he hadn’t gotten a very good impression of the room past ‘posh’, more than a little distracted by Edge being, you know, burnt up. Now as he was looking at it, the expensive vibe was still winning the race but there was a close second coming up from behind of…unimpressive.

Yeah, the sofas were huge and plushy, the bed frame and side tables ornate wood carved in curlicue designs. Oriental rugs lined the floor, decadent cushions and pillows carefully placed. What it really screamed was a lack of any personality whatsoever. Like it hadn’t been five minutes since a designer came in and did their thing, leaving it coldly uncluttered and stark.

There was no personality, no shoes half-kicked under the sofa, no books piling up on the nightstand with a glass of water for the midnight thirsties. The sofa was nice, but there wasn’t a single anomaly in the cushions, a slight indent that revealed which one was the favorite. Back home, their walls were covered with pictures, Blue loved photographs, and there were so many of them; from when they first came to the surface and those first six months that all Monsters spent in quarantine, pictures of them working in the garden, from the grand opening of the shop.

There was plenty of art here, all of it probably expensive, not that Rus knew the difference between museum quality and dentist waiting room, but not a single photograph, not even a family shot on the nightstand. Which, okay, a candid shot of Red staring at him all night wouldn’t give him sweet dreams, but that was Edge’s brother, not some psycho stranger who’d abducted him right off the street.

Even their current borrowed room had a touch of clutter after only two days. This one was so impersonal, utilitarian despite the implied comfort. There was nothing of Edge here, nothing whatsoever, as blank as an expensive hotel room. This was nothing more than the place Edge slept and dressed, it wasn’t a home, and that seemed so wrong.

His impromptu assessment short-circuited when Rus realized that Edge hadn’t paused to sit at the sofas. He walked past those cushy seats to the bed, toeing off his shoes and lining them up precisely next to it, then impatiently shoving the curtains back as he settled to lay on top of the plush comforter with a loud groan, clothes and all.

Rus hung back, unsure. If Edge was planning on going to sleep, did he expect Rus to lounge around his room and…what? There wasn’t a television that Rus could see, not so much as a paperback lying around, and Rus didn’t even have his phone to play a couple rounds of Candy Crush.

Before Rus could plop down on either of the sofas to spend some quality time twiddling his thumbs, one of Edge’s sockets cracked open to show a gleam of crimson, his unscarred brow bone rising pointedly as he held open an arm in invitation. “Come here.”

It wasn’t a question and not precisely a demand. More like an expectation and when Rus didn’t move, only shuffled his bare feet against the carpet undecidedly, that brow bone rose higher still. “I only want to hold you,” Edge said, “it’s been a very long day. Can’t you give me that much, flower shop?” One corner of his mouth lifted in that half-smile of his, settling at a near smirk, “Considering that I was getting ready for bed when I heard about your latest disappearance, I think you owe me that much.”

The last thing Rus wanted to get into was a conversation about debts, seriously. He had no idea which side was in the red anymore, but he knew which side Red was on and Rus wasn’t liking his odds. He still waffled, lingering back. “like i haven’t been losing sleep over you, asshole?” Rus muttered.

That half-smirk only widened, unoffended. “Well? Make a choice.”

Somehow, Rus didn’t think he only meant this bizarre version of snuggle time. He shuffled closer, slowly climbing onto the wide bed, crossing the plains of it like a damn wagon train heading to California. But his reluctance vanished by the time he settled cautiously against Edge’s side. He was big and warm, the spice of his cologne sharp in Rus’s nasal passage, and one arm looped around his back, a large hand settling to rest almost chastely on the upper curve of Rus’s hip.

Both of them were still fully clothed even if Rus was a little more exposed in his dance outfit, intimate without being intimidating. As much as he hated to admit it, it felt…nice. Safe.

Rus gave in and snuggled closer, settling his skull cautiously on Edge’s chest. Felt the rise and fall as he took a deep breath and let it out in a contented sigh. Edge’s arm tightening around him, his hand rubbing a gentle, soothing circle against Rus’s hip. There was a soft touch against the top of his skull, a kiss, coupled with a gust of warm breath.

As tired as he was, Rus found that he wasn’t anywhere close to drowsing off. His thoughts were still agitated, questions bouncing around on the inside of his skull. Without letting himself think too hard about it, Rus blurted the safest one. “how did you get involved in all this? the club, i mean. you know what i mean.”

Edge’s gloved fingers dragged an absent path up Rus’s spine, leaving a tingling trail behind them. “Hm? That’s a long story.”

Of course it was. “give me the reader’s digest version.”

He felt Edge smile against his temple. “All right.” For a long moment, he said nothing, only gently pet the many bones that Rus’s clothes left exposed, but if he was hoping to lull Rus to sleep without answering, that was off the table. Rus shifted restlessly and he finally spoke, slowly, as if selecting each word with care.

“There were four of us when we first came to the surface,” Edge said. With his head resting on Edge’s rib cage, Rus could hear the vibration of his deep voice from within his chest, the words coming in strange stereo. “My brother and myself, Blaze, and Gaster. I’ve known Blaze since I was a child and Gaster was…I suppose our godfather, that’s as good a word as any. He raised us and he was the one who set up this little empire, he started nearly the moment we stepped out into the sunshine. He gave the orders and we followed them, without question.”

Referring to someone as ‘was’, yeah, that was kind of a big hint, but Rus asked anyway, haltingly, “so...um. what happened to him?”

“He disappeared one night.”

“he left?”

“I don’t know,” Edge said, and something in his tone warned about asking any more questions about that, “He was simply gone. Red took over after that and we finished building up this place as a home base.”

Their godfather up and vanished one night and no one looked any deeper into that.

Yeah…

Rus was no Sherlock Holmes or even a Watson, but that seemed, oh, what was the word, really fucking suspicious?

Then again, like he had room to talk, their pop had done something pretty similar before they ever came to the surface. Went off to get drunk, same as always, and never came back. In his case, the whole town went looking and never found so much as a speck of dust; for all Rus knew, his pop was out there somewhere alive, maybe starring in an Underground music review with this Gaster guy.

He wondered if Edge had been scared when Gaster disappeared, like Rus had. Or if he’d been guiltily relieved that it was over, and he wouldn’t have to deal with all that shit again…like Rus had. But in their case, with one man down, that left three.

“and blaze?” Rus asked, cautiously.

“That’s an entirely different discussion.”

Hmph. “that wasn’t the reader’s digest version, that was barely a tik tok video,” Rus complained. “when do i get the long version?”

“You don’t,” Edge said, and the coolness of his voice belied the heat of his fingertips fondling their way back down Rus’s spine. They teased at the waistband of his pants, barely skirting beneath the fabric. “I told you once, I am a very bad person. I wouldn’t taint you by telling you all that I’ve done. All I can say is that for every deal with the devil we make, some good comes of it, and if the price of helping our people is my soul, I’ll gladly pay it.”

Difficult as it was, Rus shook off Edge’s hand, sitting up enough to scowl back down at him. “nice speech, but if you don’t want me knowing anything about you, where does that leave me?” Ignoring his inner voice shrieking that it was better to stay in the dark, safer, ignorance was the only path back home.

“Right here.” Edge rose up on one elbow, his other hand gentle on Rus’s chin as he leaned up for a kiss and, damn it, someday Rus wasn’t going to fall for this. Someday he wasn’t going to melt like a pat of butter on fresh toast at the heat of Edge’s mouth, the curl of a tongue against his own, gently coaxing. For a moment or so there was only that, a cautious meeting of mouths that slowly turned more insistent, parting for gasps of breath before hungrily meeting again.

The world seemed to spin suddenly, revolving, and then the mattress was soft beneath him. Rus dazedly realized Edge was above him now, knees nudging his legs apart as his heavy weight settled between his femurs.

Wait, Rus tried to say, the word catching in his throat as Edge abandoned his mouth to bite a delicate line along his jaw

“oh,” he whimpered aloud. He fumbled for words that skittered out of his reach, unsure if he even wanted to speak them. He couldn’t focus, his attention torn in a dozen directions; the pressure of Edge’s weight pushing him harder into the mattress, the tease of his mouth sucking at his mandible joint, and his hands never stopping, roaming over him from his skull to his hip, touching, coaxing, soaking him in pleasure so quickly. Too quickly, days’ worth of pent up desire shaking loose of their bonds to follow that touch.

Edge shifted against him and knee slid higher to press firmly at the join of Rus’s legs, rubbing at his pubic arch through the too-tight trousers. He cried out, a half-voiced whimper of protest twisted up with an almost alarming need. “wait…i…i don’t…”

“Shhhhhh,” Edge breathed. His mouth was searing hot against the side of Rus’s skull, crooning into his auditory canal. “Let me, pretty. My pretty little flower shop.” His hand slipped down into the cradle of Rus’s pelvis, not into the agitated swirl of magic gathering there, but tracing his ilium in an agonizing tease. He could hear the smile in Edge’s voice as he murmured, “You’re trembling.”

If he’d had a single wit still in his possession, Rus would have snapped out, ‘no shit!’. He could hear that he was trembling, the muted rattle of his bones as shivers wracked him. But mere thinking was far past his skills right now as that teasing touch suddenly became so much more pertinent, fingers gliding down to rub circles against his sacrum, a matching rhythm to the rocking pressure of his knee.

Rus nearly sobbed as he tried to arch up, struggling against Edge’s weight holding him down. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything, his breath panting harsh and the pulse of his soul so loud inside his skull he barely heard Edge whisper, crooning to him, a request and a demand as one, “Come for me.”

His knee pushed hard against his crotch at the same moment his fingers dipped down, fitting against the groove of his pubic symphysis, the rising wave of his pleasuring cresting with a garbled cry, “oh, oh, OH!”

His whole body quivered, carried along by sudden ecstasy and Rus could only whimper and let it take him. Shivering and choking out little cries even as he sagged weakly into the mattress, wrung out and undone.

Damp breath gusted against his temple in a fervent groan, “There. So beautiful, my beautiful flower.”

Rus only lay there gasping, limbs gone weak and limp. He squinched his sockets tightly closed and waited for Edge to strip away his pants, waited for a hand to take his own and guide it down to the hard shaft he’d felt pressed against him. Long moments passed and eventually, anticipation melted into confusion. Rus opened his sockets to see Edge still hunched over him, taking long, slow breaths to settle his aroused magic.

With a grimace, Edge rolled off him and the loss of his weight left Rus strangely bereft. He reached out unthinkingly.

“Don’t,” Edge gritted out. He caught hold of Rus’s hand before he could snatch it away, softened his words with a light kiss against his palm. “Not right now, not tonight.”

“oh, but,” Rus could only blink in dumb confusion, “why?”

“Because when I make love to you, you’ll spent the entire night in my bed.” Edge’s voice went lower, deep and dark, and a renewed flush of heat lit inside Rus, a kindling spark. “I want to be sure I can see your face when I make you come.”

A blush flamed across his face, burning hot, and Rus was almost ready to beg for that, even with little twinges of pleasure still lingering, but Edge’s smirk soured. “I don’t believe your brother would accept that tonight, I’ve been advised he’s anxious for your return.”

Been advised? How and by who? Reluctantly, Rus sat up, wondering if his trembling knees were even going to hold him. At least he could be grateful that his pants were black, it would hide the dampness he could feel between his legs. He really hoped they’d give the clothes a wash before taking them back to Mona.

Edge slid off the bed, frowning down at his wrinkled suit. He shed his jacket, tossing it on the bed and hey, his first piece of clutter, Rus could be a good influence yet. With a practiced yank, Edge untucked his shirt, pulling off the tie and loosening the top few buttons. It lent a casual appeal even as it exposed the lines of his collarbone, the slender bones oddly delicate on his large frame.

Great, he looked cool and casual, and Rus looked exactly like he’d just been rolling around in someone’s bed. That was a little more honest than Rus felt like being with his brother right now and maybe Edge agreed, because he disappeared behind a nearby door and when he came back out, he was carrying a shirt, a close match to the one he was already wearing.

He helped Rus slip it on and Rus couldn’t help a laugh at the way the sleeves fell far past his fingers. Between the two of them, they rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, Edge’s side neat and precise, and Rus’s a lopsided attempt. He stood like a child while Edge buttoned it and now shyness was creeping in, leaving him a little uncomfortable. He was grateful to be covered, his spine and ilia hidden behind the oversized shirt.

Rus bit back a yelp as Edge suddenly dropped down to crouch at his feet. He took hold of Rus’s bare foot with both hands, urging it to rest on his knee as Edge plucked loose the glittery ribbon still wound through his tibia and fibula.

Yeah, that was probably a good idea. The once-crisp bow was drooping sadly by now and it would surely bring up questions that Rus didn’t really want to answer. He honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to speak to Blue at all and the urge to ask Edge to let him stay the night after all was strong. But this was his problem to deal with, not Edge’s and it wasn’t fair to ask him to step into the middle of it. Edge was already cobwebbed into the center of enough webs.

The rough feel of the ribbon gliding against his bones as it was pulled loose distracted him, making him shiver, his toes curling. He braced his hands against Edge’s shoulders, leaning against his solid support and it was a good thing he did because as soon as the ribbon fell away, Edge ducked his head to press a kiss against the newly sensitive bones.

“There.” Edge let go of his ankle and Rus set his foot back to the floor, trying to ignore the renewed wobbliness of his knees. “Let’s get you back to your brother.”

His sudden trepidation was harder to ignore but Rus managed, nodding and he said as firmly as he could. “Let’s go.”

The walk was a short one without the pretense, his room was only two turns down the corridors away. Rus hesitated in front of the closed door and turned back to Edge, looking up into his bright, crimson eye lights.

So much had happened that a simple good night seemed kinda pathetic. They were way past the conventions of a first date, hell, they’d skipped that part of the manual entirely. But there was a Dog standing on one side of their door as a guard and his brother was just inside, and Rus’s mind was a blank page.

Edge saved him with a brief, soft kiss, huh, saving seemed to be his personal kink and holy shit Rus did not just think that. He banished the thought, rising up on his toes to return that light kiss and sighing unhappily as Edge broke it and stepped back.

“It’ll be all right, flower shop,” Edge told him softly. Rus nodded stiffly and turned away. He took a steadying breath, squared his shoulders, and opened the door.

“blue?” Rus barely had time to close the door before a blur flew across the room and attached itself to his legs. He flailed back a step, only saved from falling to the floor by the door behind him.

“I’m sorry!” Blue blurted, “I’m so sorry, brother, I didn’t mean it.”

Rus blinked hard against the sudden well of hot tears, dropping down to his knees to pull his brother into a fierce hug. “it’s okay, bro.”

“It’s not,” Nearly a sob and already the front of Rus’s shirt was growing damp. “It’s not at all!”

That was probably truer than Rus wanted to admit. A hasty apology wasn’t going to heal his aching hurt at the memory of his brother’s accusations. But it was a start and he couldn’t bear to listen to his brother crying, not now.

“look, let’s just get some sleep, tomorrow we can have a long talk and i’ll tell you everything.” Rus hesitated, took a deep breath, and forced out, “I promise.”

He meant it. He was going to tell the entire story from the beginning and if it made his brother hate him, then so be it. Whatever else happened, the lies and hidden truths between them were going to end.

Blue nodded, his chin digging into Rus’s sternum, “All right. But it doesn’t matter, Papy, none of it matters except that you’re back.”

They sat there together, caught in a tight embrace, until the cold of the floor started to seep its way in. “bro, i love you,” Rus said ruefully, “but my ass could use a new seating arrangement.

“Language,” Blue said with a watery laugh. He let go then, turning away so briskly that Rus frowned, watching his brother bustle away. “Why don’t you go get changed into your pajamas, everything will seem better after some sleep.”

He kept his face turned away, not looking at Rus and that was more than a little strange. He was used to Blue looking him over like he was studying for a test. “bro?” Rus asked, hesitantly, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” That single word bordered on maniacally cheery and he kept turned away, angling his head oddly, and yeah, okay, they weren’t going to get out of one set of lies by diving into a new one. Exhausted as he was, it didn’t take much to sidestep into a shortcut and come out in front of his brother, catching sight of him before he could spin away.

“what the fuck!” Rus gasped. He grabbed Blue by the shoulders, ignoring his feeble resistance as he forced him to turn around. There was a darkened bruise running down the side of his brother’s face like the shadow of a bluejay’s wing, from his eye socket nearly to his chin.

“what happened?” Rus demanded. The unpleasant thought came that while he was fooling around in Edge’s bed, his brother was out here alone, no, not alone, someone hurt him, and the list of suspects was vanishingly short. “it was him wasn’t it, he-“ Rus broke off, too furious to speak. He was going to kill Red, he didn’t know how, but somehow he was going to dust that low-rent Scarface bastard for daring to hurt his brother.

“No!” Blue shook his head frantically. “It wasn’t him, I swear, I promise, it was…” Blue sighed, tiredly. “I did something stupid. It seems to be an ongoing trend these past few days. Please, little brother, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Dirty pool, that, tacking the ‘little’ onto brother.

“okay,” Rus agreed, slowly. “but we’re talking about everything tomorrow.”

“Deal,” Blue hurried over to gather up Rus’s pajamas, practically thrusting them into his arms. “Now let’s get some sleep.”

Blue was trying to sound reasonable and it mostly worked. The endless flood of exhaustion was rising up over the sandbags and Rus was ready to get some sleep.

He went to the bathroom to wash up, trying to ignore the way his pants still felt uncomfortably damp at the crotch, a match to the tearstained front of his shirt. But it was an absent glance in the bathroom mirror that had him blushing up to his browbone.

Unbeknownst to him, he had a new bruise of his own, vivid against the pale bone of his jaw. It couldn’t be called anything but a hickey and there wasn’t a single chance Blue missed seeing it.

He’d seen it and hadn’t asked, not a single question about that or Rus’s sudden change of clothes and his obviously borrowed shirt.

Looked like neither of them were talking about their fresh bruises, not that that was anything new. Not talking about things seemed to be their current state of being; shouting, yes, avoiding, got it, but no talking, not really. Tomorrow was going to change that, Rus decided firmly, for better or worse.

Rus sighed and stepped into the shower, washing away the long day with hot water and heavenly scented soap. This place might smell like a choir of angels, he thought sourly, but the sulfur was sure starting to creep in.

~~*~~

tbc

[seeaddywrite]

not a place, but a feeling

a/n: written for alex manes appreciation week 2020, day 1. i used the theme ‘home can be a person,’ but took a lot of liberties, whoops? thanks as always to @soberqueerinthewild for catching all of my repetition, wacky tenses, & holding my hand through the last 5k words of this fic, haha.

warnings: starts with forlex, but this is very clearly a malex fic & forrest does not end up particularly happy. angst with a happy ending, as per usual. 8k+ wordcount.

                                                                  ________

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Alex mutters to himself, turning the key in his SUV’s ignition for the third time and hoping for a miracle. The engine wheezes, sputters a few times, and finally settles into a high-pitched whine that sets Alex’s teeth on edge. Apparently, the ‘check engine’ light on his dash that morning had been more urgent than he’d expected -- and now, he’s stuck somewhere between Jim Valenti’s old hunting cabin and town. Fantastic. He’d already been running late to meet Forrest thanks to taking way too long to pick an outfit for their first official date, and now he’s over half an hour late.

As if it read his mind, Alex’s phone starts to ring, Forrest’s name flashing across the display. Groaning, Alex accepts the call and tries to crank the engine one more time. The attempt results in a screech and an alarming puff of smoke emerging from beneath the hood. With a bitten-off curse, Alex yanks the key from the ignition and throws the car door open, hastily putting a safe distance between himself and the smoking vehicle. Logic tells him that the smoke isn’t necessarily a precursor to an explosion, or even a fire, but years of military training and instinct are impossible to ignore.

“Hello? Hello? Alex, are you there?”

Alex glances from the still-smoking SUV to the phone in his palm, the source of the tinny-sounding voice calling his name. Frustrated with himself, he smacks a hand against his face and answers, hoping Forrest hasn’t already hung up on him. “Hey, yeah, I’m here. Sorry -- my car doesn’t want to start, and I guess I cranked it one too many times, because the engine just started smoking.”

For a moment, the only thing Alex hears on the other end of the line is blaring music. “I should probably not be relieved that your car blew up, huh?” Forrest asks, a self-deprecating laugh clear even through the pounding bass in the background. “I was starting to think you were standing me up.”

“What? Why would you think that?” Alex asks, putting the call on speaker so he could pull up Guerin’s contact information and start a new text while he listens. There’s no one else he could call at this hour, and he needs to be able to get to base on Monday, one way or the other. Michael would probably be able to fix the SUV, and even if he couldn’t do it overnight, he’d at least get Alex a loaner car for a few days while he did. And, after that, Alex wouldn’t have to worry about something like this happening again anytime soon; he could trust that Michael would actually fix the problem entirely, unlike any other mechanics in Roswell -- or in general, honestly.

My car gave up on me halfway to town. Any chance of some help?

It only occurs to Alex after the message has gone through that he should probably be a little more apprehensive about texting Guerin out of nowhere, but he’s really not. The two of them make a hell of a team, and after spending so much time together unravelling the mysteries of Nora and Tripp, and everything that came after, Alex is more confident than ever that Michael will always be part of his life -- even if it’s not in the way he’d initially hoped it would be. They’re family, whether or not they’re sleeping together, and Alex doesn’t doubt that anymore.

“Well, you weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of going to Planet 7,” Forrest is saying, answering Alex’s question about why he would stand him up, and Alex feels guilty for not giving him his full attention. “And I kind of pressured you into it. I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

It’s a fair assumption, Alex supposes. He hadn’t been thrilled with the suggestion of going to Roswell’s only gay bar, even after finding the courage to push his father’s hateful words and judgements out of his mind for long enough to pull Forrest into a kiss in the middle of the Wild Pony. But he’s not the kind of guy to agree to something he really doesn’t want to do for a date, and he’d assumed Forrest would know that -- like Guerin would have. But Forrest is different from Michael; he has no reason to take Alex at his word, lacks the intimate knowledge of who Alex is that Michael has somehow managed to collect through ten years of hook-ups, break ups, and hurt feelings. And that’s not Forrest’s fault -- so Alex needs to learn to communicate better, somehow, if this has any chance of working out.

“I’m still planning on coming,” he promises, looking out at the darkened horizon, visible only because of the moonlight. “Seriously, I would’ve been there already if it weren’t for the fact that my car decided that tonight was the night it was giving up on me. I’m really looking forward to seeing you.”

There’s an audible smile in Forrest’s voice as he responds, and Alex feels vaguely proud of himself for managing to put it there, despite everything. “Okay, awesome. Want me to come get you? It’s late, so I doubt anyone’s going to be able to tow you before morning. And trust me, you don’t need to rough it in the desert overnight to prove what a badass you are. I already know.”

Alex laughs, and opens his mouth to retort -- but his phone dings, signalling an incoming barrage of messages, and Alex opens them with a swipe of his thumb, once again distracted from the phone conversation.

Let me guess. You decided to ignore your check engine light again.

Or was it an oil change you put off for six months?

You realize routine maintenance isn’t actually a suggestion, right? You either get it done, or you end up stranded in the middle of the desert begging for a ride.

On my way now with the tow now. Can you give me anything more specific than halfway to town, or am I supposed to just drive and hope for the best?

Alex snaps a picture of the nearest mile marker with the flash on, and sends it to Guerin with a quick, I plead the 5th. See you soon.

“Hello? Alex! Alex, are you --”

Alex winces guiltily and puts the phone hurriedly back to his ear. “Sorry, sorry, I’m still here. What were you saying?”

Again, all Alex hears for a long moment is the thudding of the bass from whatever stupid pop song the DJ is playing, and he runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. He already basically missed their date, and now he’s only half paying attention while Forrest is kind and understanding about it. Alex doesn’t deserve his patience.

“I was asking you where you are. I’ll come get you, and we can still get in a few hours of shitty music and half-off beer,” Forrest reiterates patiently, though Alex can tell he’s starting to reach the end of his reserves of understanding. And, considering the circumstances, Alex doesn’t blame him.

“No, don’t worry about it! That’s pretty far out of your way. I already have a tow truck coming, so I’ll just have them give me a ride into town, and I’ll meet you like we planned.” Alex pauses, reflecting on his words and wondering when, exactly, he’d decided to avoid using Michael’s name… and why. It’s not like Forrest didn’t already know that the two of them were good friends. It’s not like it meant anything, that Alex called Michael to help -- his car broke down, and Michael is a mechanic. None of that added up to anything that he needed to lie to Forrest about.

And yet.

“You found a garage open at this hour in Roswell?” Forrest asked incredulously. “I can’t even get fast food past eight, so you’re going to have to share some of your black market contacts.”

The expectation of a laugh is pretty obvious, so Alex manages a slightly strained chuckle. “Uh, well, I can probably hook you up with a burger at the Crashdown after hours, but that’s about it,” he retorts, even though Liz is long-gone, and the chances of after-hours snacks at the diner are a lot lower without her. “I just called Guerin, tonight. He pretty much runs Sanders’ garage these days, and lives out back, so it’s no big deal for him to come get me.”

Alex opts to ignore the fact that he knows Michael doesn’t usually drop whatever he’s doing to rescue stranded motorists who aren’t smart enough to get their vehicle to a garage when the ‘check engine’ light comes on when he’s not working. That’s just what friends do for each other, and Alex would do the same, if their positions were reversed.

“Oh.” Alex doesn’t know Forrest well enough to read the emotion in the short syllable, but he’s not naive enough to think he sounds pleased. “You two must be pretty good friends if he’s giving up his Friday night plans to come pick you up, huh?”

It seems like a loaded question, so Alex just says, “We’ve known each other a long time,” in response, and glances up as a set of slowing headlights wash over him. Sanders’ tow truck pulls off to the side of the road in front of Alex’s SUV, and Michael waves from the window, familiar curls bouncing from the motion. Alex waves back with a grin.

“He’s pulling up now, actually, so I’m going to get off of here. I’ll give you a call and let you know when I’m five minutes out, if you still want to try to spend some time together tonight?”

Alex watches as Michael hops out of the truck and starts toward him with the usual swagger in his stride. It’s hard to tell what he was doing before he got Alex’s text, because he’s wearing the same ragged jeans and worn jacket that Alex has seen him in a hundred times, but there’s enough volume in his curls to suggest he put some effort into his hair. A date with Maria, maybe? Or hanging out with Isobel, who loved to make fun of his hair if he didn’t put the effort in?

“Yeah, okay,” Forrest says, recapturing Alex’s attention for a minute. “I’ll stay and have a few drinks, and I’ll see you when you get here. Tell Michael I said ‘hey.’”

“Will do,” Alex says, and ends the call just as Michael reaches him, hand extended for the keys.

“So?” he asks, and despite the darkness, Alex knows exactly what the teasing expression on Michael’s face looks like. It’s always the same -- a furrowed brow, a mischievous glint in his eyes, even as he manages to keep his lips from turning up in a too-obvious smile. It’s a look that never ceases to make Alex’s heartbeat speed up, even now, when they’ve moved past any real chance of romantic reconciliation. “Which one was it? Check engine light or skipped oil change?”

Alex rolls his eyes, but tosses his keys into Michael’s open palm. “Look, it’s not my fault that the check engine light comes on when you need an oil change -- who wouldn’t assume that’s the problem and keep driving?” They’ve had this argument before; Alex always takes his car to Michael when something goes wrong, and Michael always has to point out that Alex sucks at taking care of an engine. At this point, Alex would almost be disappointed if the mocking stopped.

Michael shakes his head in faux disappointment and disappears to pop the hood, leaving Alex to follow behind and watch. Another wave of smoke wafts into the night sky when the hood opens, and Michael sends Alex a disbelieving look over his shoulder. “Seriously? How many times did you try to start it when it made the grinding noise? A hundred? This would’ve taken me two minutes to fix if you hadn’t kept pushing it.” He’s pulled a flashlight from somewhere and is shining the beam down into the guts of the SUV, staring at what, to Alex, looks like a bunch of hoses, wires, and smoke.

“Sorry,” Alex says sheepishly. “Don’t worry about it tonight if it’s going to take a while -- I’m sure you had plans. We can just tow it back to town and worry about it again on Monday, during actual working hours.”

There’s a clank and a thud, and another plume of smoke curls up from the engine. Michael groans, and straightens up to slam the hood closed. “Yeah, okay, I give up. Let’s just get it on the truck and I’ll figure out what you did to it when I can actually see what I’m doing.” They both take a few steps back, and Michael turns, looking down the silent road for a minute before glancing back at Alex. “I’m going to cheat, since there’s no one else around. You can just get in the truck if you want. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Michael doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s staring intensely at the SUV. After a moment, with a slide of gravel and the squeal of tires, the SUV moves up the ramp on its own. There’s a thud as the connections fasten under the guidance of Michael’s metaphysical hands, and a few minutes later, they’re on their way back into Roswell.

For once, the silence between them isn’t loaded with things they should have said. Alex is reclined in the seat, relaxed and comfortable with someone he trusts driving -- but the ease of the atmosphere evaporates quickly when Michael asks, “So where am I dropping you? Do you need a ride back out to your place?”

It shouldn’t be this hard to tell Michael that he’s meeting Forrest. They haven’t been together in a long time, if they ever really even were -- and Michael has Maria. It’s not like he’s going to be upset. But the words feel stuck in Alex’s throat as he opens his mouth to answer, and his stomach squirms unpleasantly. “Uh, no,” he says. “I’m actually … meeting someone. At Planet 7.” His eyes are locked on the road straight ahead, but Alex can’t help himself; he glances at Michael through his periphery to check for a reaction.

Michael’s shoulders have lost their comfortable slouch, and his spine is rigid. He obviously still cares about who Alex is spending his time with -- but Alex isn’t going to apologize. They’re both moving on, and they need to remember that.

“Yeah,” Michael says finally. “I kind of guessed. You’re pretty dressed up for a night of snacks in front of the TV.”

Alex glances down at himself, taking in the dark-wash jeans and button-up shirt he’d selected for the occasion. “I guess so,” he agrees, sighing. “Uh, what were you doing with your night, before you were rudely interrupted by my smoking engine?” It’s not the most graceful subject change, but Alex doesn’t really care as long as they’re away from the topic of Forrest.

Michael snorts. “Trust me, I was relieved you called -- it’s my night to babysit Max and make sure he doesn’t take off after Liz. Towing a car is way more exciting than watching him boohoo into his beer.”

“I’m surprised you’re not glued to Maria’s side, since she just got out of the hospital.” Alex had only been trying to keep the conversation moving steadily away from his own date that night; he doesn’t expect Michael to go rigid in response. He blinks, turning in the passenger seat to get a better look at Michael’s expression, but he’s gone blank.

“Maria and I are over.” The answer, when it comes, is terse and definitely over-simplified, but Alex knows better than to ask for details. If Michael wanted to share, he would have already, and while friends might have license to pry into each other’s personal life, Alex doesn’t want Michael doing the same in return, so he stays quiet aside from a soft, “I’m sorry.”

The drive loses the easy sense of camaraderie after that. Alex spends the next twenty minutes into town fighting with a small, cruel voice in the back of his head that keeps whispering celebratory words about Michael’s break-up. They’re friends now. Friends don’t think like that, but even after a decade of separation, it’s hard not to think of Michael as more than a friend. Alex hopes that he just needs some practice; otherwise, none of this is going to end well.

Planet 7 isn’t exactly in the middle of town, but Michael finds it without any direction. Alex slides out of the passenger seat when he sees Forrest coming toward them, smiling, and glances back at Michael. “Thanks for the help, Guerin,” he says earnestly. “I really appreciate it.”

Michael nods, his expression still tense, though Alex thinks that’s less about his break-up and more about Forrest, now. “No problem. If you need a ride home, just let me know.”

Forrest has reached them by this point; one of his arms falls over Alex’s shoulders, and Alex only startles for a moment before relaxing again when he realizes who’s touching him. Michael’s eyes narrow slightly, but not enough to be noticeable to someone who isn’t really looking.

“That won’t be necessary,” Forrest tells Michael pleasantly, though he’s standing closer than he ever has before when they aren’t joined at the mouth. Alex sighs inwardly -- this is what he’d been trying to avoid. He doesn’t want Forrest thinking he needs to compete with Michael. Competition and jealousy in a relationship never ends well, and Alex wants one good thing in his life. Surely that’s not too much to ask? “I’ll make sure he gets home in one piece. Thanks for bringing him though, Alien Dude!”

Michael nods at Forrest, then glances back at Alex, an unreadable expression in his dark gaze. “I’ll call you tomorrow about the SUV,” he promises. “It might take me a couple of hours, but I’ll get it up and running for you by Monday. You need to be on base by six, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Guerin -- I owe you one.” Really, he’s lost track of who’s one-upping who when it comes to favors, but Alex isn’t interested in keeping score, and he doesn’t think Michael cares much, either.

Michael nods at them one more time, his eyes lingering on Alex’s face for long enough to make him start to squirm, and then he’s gone, disappearing in a plume of exhaust and the groan of overworked machinery, leaving Alex and Forrest staring after his his taillights and Alex feeling strangely bereft.

“All right,” Forrest says, his voice twice as cheerful as it had been only a moment ago. “Let’s get the night started, shall we? You missed out on Happy Hour, but I scored you a feather boa anyway.”

Alex laughs, letting the teasing ease him back from thinking about Michael and into focusing on Forrest and their plans. This is the path he’d chosen, the person he’d chosen. He’s never going to give up on being a part of Michael’s life, and he’ll protect the aliens and their secret with everything he has in him to make up for what his family did to theirs. But Michael can be his family without being his lover, and Alex needs to stop confusing the two before he winds up heartbroken and alone all over again.

Sometimes, love just isn’t enough. Cosmic doesn’t mean much without commitment, without trust, and there are too many complicated feelings between Alex and Michael to make a go of it. So he smiles, leans into Forrest’s side, and allows himself to be led into Planet 7 with a warm arm draped over his shoulders.

*******

Despite the anxiety leading up to their first few dates, being with Forrest turns out to be surprisingly easy. He’s smart and funny, quick with a witty comment or self-deprecating joke, and never pushes Alex further than he’s willing to be pushed. He understands Alex’s service background and love of writing, even if music isn’t his preferred medium, and encourages Alex to dress and act in a way that makes him feel true to himself. Alex smiles a lot around him, and laughs, and starting their relationship feels like sliding into an old, worn jacket -- soft and comfortable, without any real friction.

“So, basically, you’re bored,” Maria summarizes, after Alex finishes telling her about how smoothly things are going. They’re in the Wild Pony just after opening, Maria in her usual position behind the bar, Alex sitting on a stool opposite. She’s only been back to work for a few weeks after her stint in the hospital, but there’s no sign of weakness in the way she runs her business -- or the way she’s looking at him now.

“What? No! That’s not what I mean,” Alex argues, shaking his head quickly. “I said things are comfortable between us. That doesn’t mean I’m bored!”

Maria raised an eyebrow, her brightly-painted fingernails tapping against the bar. She’s dressed fairly conservatively tonigh in a flannel shirt and a pair of form-fitting jeans, but her nails are painted in pastels, a minor homage to her usual style. “Sweetie, you’ve been dating for what, two weeks? Relationships that new aren’t supposed to be easy, and definitely not comfortable. Two weeks in is like the honeymoon! You’re supposed to want to spend every waking moment together, to have to fight to keep your hands off of each other -- and instead of telling me about how hot he makes you, you’re comparing him to an old coat.” Skepticism drips from her words, and Alex crosses his arms over his chest and stares back at her in return annoyance.

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, and winces inwardly at the defensive tone.

While it’s true that Alex hasn’t exactly had to fight to keep his hands off of Forrest, he hasn’t been fully honest about them agreeing to take their sexual relationship slowly. Alex isn’t a prude, and it’s not that Forrest isn’t exactly his type. He’s just been unsure about taking that next step. Every time their dates end up at Forrest’s place -- and it’s honestly just a coincidence that Forrest has never stayed at Alex’s. It’s just always worked out that way; Alex isn’t trying to keep him out of his personal space -- and their goodbye turns into a little more than kiss, there’s always something holding Alex back from letting the moment continue. Forrest is great about it, and smiles when Alex pulls away, but after four dates and four attempts at moving onto second base, Alex can tell he’s starting to get frustrated.

Honestly, so is Alex. He doesn’t know why he’s so reticent to sleep with his boyfriend. Forrest has always been embarrassingly up front about finding Alex sexy, and he’s never so much as blinked at the realities of Alex’s amputation or scars -- but even so, Alex can’t do it. He’s just not ready.

But he’ll be damned if he admits any of that to Maria. Alex has no desire to know how she’d read into that information whatsoever.

“Uh-huh, right. Slow.” Maria pours a shot of whiskey into two glasses and slides one across the bartop to him, eyebrows raised in challenge, and Alex makes a face, but clinks his shot glass against Maria’s and knocks it back. “Okay, great. Are you drunk enough to tell me the truth now, or --”

“Whoa, shots before the sun goes down? And here I thought I was the town drunk.”

When Alex turns, he finds himself face-to-face with a smirking Michael Guerin. He’s wearing his usual jeans and open-collared shirt, black cowboy hat tipped forward on his head, and he’s obviously trying to act nonchalant. But Alex knows that he’s been avoiding Maria ever since she broke up with him -- Maria had been complaining about it half an hour ago. With that in mind, he looks at Michael again, and sees the tense lines around his eyes and the sharp edges of his smile.

“I think I’ve got a ways to go before I’m even tipsy,” Alex retorts, shaking his head in bemusement. “But you’re welcome to join us and see how many shots it takes.” In the weeks since their last meeting, it’s gotten easier to be around Michael without worrying about saying or doing the wrong thing. They’ve relaxed back into their usual banter, supported by genuine care for each other, and Alex isn’t spending every second of every interaction analyzing microexpressions anymore. It’s a nice change, and he’s planning on doing whatever he can to make sure it sticks around this time.

“You have no idea how much I wish I could,” Michael groans, and gestures over one shoulder with his thumb. Alex follows the movement and finds Isobel and Max Evans settling into a table at the back of the bar. Isobel’s perfectly-lined eyes are rolling in what can only be exasperation, and Max just looks miserable. There are bags beneath his eyes, and his hair and beard have seen better days, while Isobel is her usual immaculate self in floral dress with a flowing skirt and an updo. “Iz decided she’s had enough of Max’s moping and wants to get him laid.”

The disbelieving noise that escapes from Alex’s throat really isn’t a reflection on Max’s looks -- he has no doubt that, if his heart were in it, the defacto leader of Michael’s little family could find someone to take home with him. But the guy is clearly miserable and heartbroken over Liz’s departure, still. There’s no way Isobel’s going to convince him to pick anyone up tonight, no matter how many beautiful women she parades past the table.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Michael says, shaking his head. “I told her she’s crazy. Max has been pining over Liz for longer than he’s known how to speak in complete sentences. There’s no way he’s moving on that easy -- but you know how Isobel is.” He shrugs, a what can you do? sort of gesture, and Alex is stopped from answering by Maria clearing her throat pointedly from behind the bar.

Michael glances her way, his shoulders tensing for a second, but his smile is only slightly strained. “‘Sup, Deluca?” he asks. “I need three of whatever you’ve got on tap.” The interaction is wholly impersonal, and Alex almost winces for Maria, who definitely didn’t miss the cool tone in Michael’s voice as he spoke to her. Obviously, he’s still upset about the break-up, or at least holding onto some hard feelings. It’s not like Alex can blame him either, as much as he wants to be able to take Maria’s side, or at least understand her perspective. But Alex knows what it’s like to love Michael Guerin, and he knows what it’s like to lose him, and he can’t understand why Maria would put herself through that if she didn’t have to. She hasn’t really explained herself, either, to Michael or to Alex, so it’s almost impossible to empathize.

“You should come hang out,” Michael invites, when Maria turns away to get his drinks. “There’s already a crowd, so she’s going to be too busy to chat soon.” He’s right; the Pony has filled up while Maria grilled him on Forrest, and there’s already a line forming at the bar. For now, the second bartender has it covered, but it won’t be long before Maria will have to devote her full attention to running drinks. “You get company, I have someone to buffer and maybe stop me from killing one of my siblings . . . it’s a win-win situation, really.”

Alex chuckles, and nods his easy agreement. He’s not entirely sure how he feels about Max Evans after what he did to Flint -- it’s not like he hadn’t had a good reason to want the man dead, considering what he’d done, but despite all of his sins, Flint is still Alex’s brother. But it’s hard to look at the guy moping in a bar full of people and see a cold-blooded killer, and Alex wants to like Max. Plus, Isobel is always good for a laugh and at least one ridiculous story, and Alex never needs much of an excuse to spend time with Michael. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “But I’m telling you, if Max starts crying into his cup, I’m out of there.”

“Deal,” Michael agrees with a laugh. He heads back to the table with Isobel and Max, his body language getting looser the further he gets from Maria. Alex wonders if he realizes how much more relaxed he seems as he rejoins Max and Isobel -- before Max’s death, that was the last word he would have used to describe Michael in his presence, but now, it’s like something has clicked between them, and Guerin is clearly most comfortable with his family.

Alex tries not to hope that extends to him.

“He’s still giving you the cold shoulder, huh?” Alex asks, once Michael is out of earshot. He’ll go join them in a minute, after he has a chance to say goodbye to Maria and try, one more time, to figure out why she’d ended a relationship that seemed to make her genuinely happy.

Sighing, Maria nods. “Guess so. I was hoping that it’d get better, once he finally started coming back to the Pony, but --” she waves a hand in Guerin’s vague direction, the golden bangles on her wrist clacking together. “I get a ‘hey, how are you?’ and a ‘I’ll take a beer, please,’ and that’s about it. He doesn’t even try to get out of paying anymore, and I never thought I’d be bummed about that.” Her nose wrinkles, and Maria hunches forward over her elbows on the bar, looking run down. “I miss him, you know?”

Alex knows. Intimately. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have broken up with him?” he suggests leadingly, hoping that he’ll get a reason without having to ask, explicitly, why Maria had ended things. The suggestion sends a brief shock of something through his chest, but Alex doesn’t let himself stop to analyze it.

Maria rolls her eyes, but there’s a lingering sadness in them that Alex could pick up from across town. He knows Maria too well to fall for the act she’s putting on, and they both know it. “I had to,” she says finally, the words slow enough that Alex can tell she’s thinking it through even as she answers. “I didn’t want to, but—“ The sentence hangs in the air between them, but Maria doesn’t finish; instead, she shrugs. “I didn’t doubt that he loved me, you know. That wasn’t it— I know he thinks it was. But when you went missing, he just... didn’t think. Didn’t stop to ask for help, or wonder what he was walking into. He just started off on this crusade to get you back, all on his own.”

Alex opens his mouth, ready to tell her that Michael would have done the same for her, and that kind of recklessness probably isn’t a healthy, positive trait in a stable relationship, but Maria silences him with a look.

“Every time I called, every time I needed him— it wasn’t like that. He was always there, he always showed up for me— I’m not complaining! But Michael never jumped without looking, without thinking first, when it came to me. He was never desperate, or past reason, you know? He always managed to keep his secrets, or protect his family while he was saving me. But he didn’t do that when it came to you. Michael thought you were in real, mortal danger, and his first instinct was to do whatever was necessary to save you, and screw whoever else it might hurt.”

What the hell is he supposed to say to that? He sees where Maria is going with her explanation, now, and he’s not proud of the small, smug feeling hiding beneath the incredulity growing under his breastbone. “Maria, that’s not --”

“And,” Maria interrupts, raising her voice as if determined to be heard, whether Alex wants to listen or not. “As stupid as it sounds, considering the sci-fi horror movie our lives have become, I want someone to be that desperate at the thought of losing me.” Maria laughs, then, a short, self-deprecating sound. “I don’t want to play second-fiddle to the one great love of his life, Alex. As much as I love him, as much as I believe he loves me, dating isn’t fair for either of us.”

Alex stares at her, his lips parted as he flounders for the right words. He’s torn between trying to convince her that she’s wrong, that he and Michael are doing well at being friends and that it’s enough, and telling her that maybe she’s right, that it was never going to work out, and he wants her to be happy.

“That’s not— he’s not—“ Alex can’t argue, really. He knows, deep down, in the same part of his subconscious that knows the sky is blue and the grass is green, that Michael would do anything for him, and Alex would do the same in return. Even when they couldn’t look at each other without wanting to scream or cry, they’d always done their best to protect one another, and Alex doesn’t think that’s ever going to change. He’d promised Michael, once, that he’d keep him safe from his family, from the government, and Alex isn’t going to go back on his word on the off-chance that Michael and Maria might manage to work things out.

“Look, Maria,” he says finally. “Helena asked him to build a weapon of mass destruction.” The words feel the words like they’re being torn from his throat, but Alex perseveres. “And he did it. If she’d wanted him to build a bomb that could kill everyone in town, or more— he really might have done it, no matter who got hurt, just like you said.” Another full shot glass appears in front of him when he pauses, and Alex throws it back without a second thought, hoping the liquor will ease the ache caused by reliving everything that’s gone wrong with Guerin. “And how am I supposed to live with that? Knowing what he might do? What I could do, if our roles got reversed?”

The question is as good as admitting that Alex still has feelings for Michael, and he knows it. Hiding things, especially feelings, from Maria DeLuca has always been all but impossible, and this time, she’d barely had to give him a nudge before he spilled his guts. Damn it. How is he supposed to go over and drink with Michael and his family now?

“See? The fact that you didn’t even try to deny it is pretty telling, Alex,” Maria says, her lips quirked at the corners. “Instead, you immediately jump to how dangerous the lengths you’d go to for each other are. And yeah, maybe it’s a bad idea for you to be together -- I don’t know. That’s for you two to figure out.” Soft hands tighten around his. “But I had to make a choice for myself, too, and now I’m sure I made the right one.”

The noises of the bar and growing crowd around them fill the silence until Alex squeezes Maria’s hands and moves to pull back to say goodbye, before Guerin comes back to ask what’s taking so long -- the last thing either of them need is for Michael to overhear this conversation. But Maria’s grip tightens instead of releasing, and when Alex glances up at her, eyebrow raised in question, she’s staring at him with a strange intensity that tells him he really, really doesn’t want to hear whatever she’s about to say next.

“Don’t you think that Forrest should have a chance to make that choice?” she asks, and Alex yanks his hands free as he slides down from the barstool, more than ready to tell Maria to have a good night and leave. “I know you don’t want to hear it, Alex, but dating him is no different than Michael dating me. And--”

“And what, Maria?” Alex demands sharply. “You want me to tell you that I’m not sure about Forrest? You want me to admit there are times when we’re together that I have to remind myself that he’s not Michael, and I can’t expect him to know stupid things like the fact that I never remember to get a freaking oil change? Yeah, okay! I’ve been in love with Michael since I was seventeen. I can’t just flip a switch and stop feeling that way, even if it’s the right thing to do!”

Flustered at the sudden deluge of feeling and irritated by Maria’s pushing, Alex barely registers when Maria’s gaze jerks to one side and widens. “Alex -”

But he’s been holding back for weeks, months, years of watching Michael with other people and trying to open himself up to dating, too, and Alex isn’t ready to stop talking now that he’s started. So he ploughs forward, ignoring her interruption. “But you can’t compare yourself with Forrest, either -- it’s not the same. We’re dating! It’s fun, but he’s not in love with me. It’s not --”

“Alex!”

“Oh, no, don’t interrupt him on my account.”

Fuck. Like he was free-falling from a plane without the guarantee of a parachute, Alex’s stomach sinks and flips.

Forrest.

Alex spins around to find the guy he’s supposed to be dating standing less than a foot away, back and to Alex’s right, just a little in front of the crowd that now stretches from the entrance to the bar itself. Horror and guilt bloom in his stomach, making him feel nauseous. Alex struggles to make his mouth form words, his mind spinning as he tries to put together an explanation for whatever Forrest had just heard -- and what had he heard? How long has he been standing there? Alex honestly has no fucking clue, and the horrified, apologetic expression on Maria’s face suggests that she doesn’t, either. “I --” Alex shakes his head and forces a smile on his face. He can only hope it doesn’t look too fake. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” he says, biting his lower lip.

Both of Forrest’s eyebrows lift high enough that they disappear into his hairline. “Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty obvious,” he drawls, arms crossed defensively over his chest. Alex’s heartbeat speeds as the uncomfortable moment stretches between them, and for once, he’s grateful when someone drops a quarter in the jukebox and starts blaring an old country song at top volume. It cuts through the awkwardness a little, at least. “I came to meet a couple of friends who wanted to talk about plans to expand Open Mic night -- so, imagine my surprise when I came over here and heard the guy I’m dating talking about still being in love with his ex.”

Alex grips the edge of the bar, hard, and looks down at the floor. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he says quietly, the words barely audible over the din of the bar. “Can we maybe go somewhere to talk about this? I know I owe you an explanation, and I didn’t mean to --”

But Forrest shakes his head before he can even finish the sentence, lips thin and eyes hard. “Look,” he says, and the timbre of his voice matches the look in his eyes. “We haven’t been dating long, and you really don’t owe me an explanation. I’ve known you have history with Guerin since we met at the barn, and it’s not like I haven’t had plenty of clues since then that you’re not over him.” He runs fingers through his vibrantly blue hair, looking away from Alex while his jaw clenches and unclenches. When his gaze meets Alex’s again, the anger is still obvious, but this time, resignation is, too. “I mean, come on. You called him to come pick you up for our first date, when I could have come to get you just as easily after the car died. And last week, when you were talking to Liz in the car? You should have seen the way your face lit up when you started telling her about how he’s thinking about going to college or whatever. And that song -- fuck. How did I miss that the song was about him?”

Forrest paces in a small circuit around the barstools in their immediate area, and Alex remains silent, unable to say or do anything to defend himself or correct Forrest -- because everything he’s said is true. Alex may not have realized it, and he’d truly gone into this relationship with the best of intentions, but he’d never really wanted Forrest. He’d liked the way he felt with Forrest, enjoyed being flirted with and pushed out of the comfort zone he’d hidden within for so long, and Alex had mistaken liking Forrest’s company for romantic feelings. And all the while, he’d been trying to push away real romantic feelings for Guerin, like he’d been doing for the last decade of his life.

God, he’s such an asshole.

“So. Here it is. I’m going to go home, get drunk, and hate you for a while. You’re going to leave me alone. And then, in a few months when I can look at you without wanting to either yell or cry, we’re going to be friends. Because there aren’t enough gay guys in Roswell, and I think we could both use a friend who gets it.”

It’s such a Forrest way of breaking up with Alex that he almost laughs. It didn’t seem like anything could ruffle Forrest’s feathers -- it had been one of the things that drew Alex to him from the start. That constant calm, the feeling that no matter how chaotic and out of control Alex got, Forrest would be steady. But a desire for control, or something easy, isn’t a good enough reason to be with someone, not when Alex has always thrived in high-pressure situations, has always sought out the adrenaline rush. Maybe it’s a side effect of his ruined childhood, but Alex has always preferred the chaos of his time with Michael to anything else.

Alex swallows, his smile small and a little sad when he nods at Forrest. “Okay. I can do that. But seriously, I really am sorry. I really thought that I could move on, and I wanted to try with you because you always made me feel so brave.”

Forrest sucks in a breath, shakes his head again, and disappears into the crowd, headed toward the exit.

Alex doesn’t go after him.

******

It takes Michael about twenty minutes to find him after Alex leaves the Wild Pony. He’d considered sticking around and drinking until the shame and guilt melted away into an alcoholic haze, but ultimately, Alex has enough problems without adding alcoholism to the list. So he’d said goodnight to a still-apologetic Maria, avoided the stares and whispers that came from being dumped very publicly in a small, gossip-mongering town, and slipped out into the street.

He walks home, thankful for the house he bought that’s only a mile or so from the Wild Pony and the fact that he’s able to walk for a mile without the pinching and aching his old prosthetic had caused. He’ll be sore tomorrow, probably, but it’s worth the night air and the chance to clear his head. The confrontation with Forrest had been so public that Alex is feeling more embarrassed than guilty, at this point, but he knows that when that dies down, he’ll be angry with himself for hurting someone that way. No, Forrest hadn’t been in love with him, but that didn’t excuse the way Alex had treated him -- and he’s going to have to deal with that, somehow.

“You know, I’m pretty sure normal people don’t walk down abandoned alleys at this hour,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and instead of jumping at the unexpected presence, Alex lets go of the tension he hadn’t known he was carrying. Michael Guerin’s voice has always meant security, to Alex, even when it wasn’t guaranteed.

“Good thing neither of us are normal people,” Alex shoots back, stopping to wait for Michael to catch up. When they’re shoulder to shoulder, he starts forward again, falling into step with Guerin without even thinking about it. “I thought you’d still be at the Pony-- it’s awfully early, if you’re trying to keep that town drunk title.”

Michael huffs a laugh. “What do you mean? They ended the night with a floor show, so I figured the bar was closing.” He should probably be offended by the joke, Alex thinks, or at the very least embarrassed that Michael most likely overheard everything Forrest said, but he’s not. Instead, he’s just glad that Michael cared enough to chase after him, even now.

They walk in silence for a while longer before they arrive at the fence around Alex’s yard. He opens it with his key and gestures Michael inside -- he’s come this far, after all, and he isn’t trying to make an excuse to leave. Alex kills the security system and leads the way into the kitchen, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket as he goes. “You want coffee?” he asks, heading straight for the coffee pot that’s served him well for the last several years.

Michael shrugs. “Sure, if you’re making it anyway.” He leans against the wall of cabinets a foot or so away from where Alex is measuring out coffee grounds, one foot propped casually behind him, arms hanging loose at his sides, and Alex can feel the weight of his stare as he flips the power switch on the coffee pot. But neither of them say anything, and the anticipation of the moment when someone finally breaks is enough to make Alex’s pulse speed up.

“So, are we going to talk about this, or --?” Unsurprisingly, Guerin is the first one to give in and speak.

Alex turns to face him properly, fidgeting with the bottom of his henley as he does. “Do you want to?”

It’s a fair question. Every time Alex has tried to talk to Guerin about their relationship, about the chance of moving forward, Michael’s been the one to say ‘no,’ or to walk away, and Alex doesn’t know if he’s brave enough to try again without some reassurance that this time will be different. He doesn’t mind fighting for Michael, doesn’t mind protecting him and loving him from a distance, if that’s what he needs, but there’s a limit to the number of times he can put himself on the line and be vulnerable only to have it thrown back in his face.

There’s a beat of silence, but ultimately, Michael nods. “Last time we talked about this, I couldn’t unravel what your father did to my mother from you and me,” he says quietly, his grease-stained fingers drumming idly on his own arms. “And I needed to know if I could find something -- someone -- who didn’t have the same power over me that you always have. Being with you has always made me feel like I’m in free fall, and I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t about to be a fiery crash landing.”

It hurts more than Alex expected, to hear that, but he knows he’s given Michael reason to worry. “Yeah,” he sighs, flipping the coffee pot off when the light comes on, signalling that it’s done brewing. “Is that still how you feel now?” If the answer is ‘yes,’ Alex doesn’t know where this conversation will lead, but he needs to know either way.

“Alex, I’m pretty sure I’m always going to feel out of control when I’m around you,” Michael says bluntly, taking a step forward, his gaze intent on Alex’s face. “You and me, we’ve never been easy, and my bet is that if we try this, we’re going to have to put some effort in to make it work -- but my mom never got the chance to be with Tripp. She had a lot more reasons than I do to be afraid, or to run in the other direction, and she didn’t, because she knew that love was worth it.”

Reading Tripp’s journal had been an emotional experience for all involved, but Alex wonders if he missed Michael having this revelation that day. He’d been caught up in his own thoughts, his own regrets for himself and his father, and the people they might have been if Tripp survived, so he supposes it’s possible.

“I don’t want to spend any more time wondering if we can be happy together,” Michael continues, suddenly close enough that Alex can feel his breath against his face. As usual, his mere proximity makes Alex’s cheeks feel warm and his stomach feel tight. He couldn’t speak now, even if he wanted to interrupt. “I don’t want to wake up every day for the rest of my life with the same hollow feeling in my gut when I realize you’re not in bed beside me. I don’t want to watch you date anymore assholes who make you smile, and I -- fuck, I want to be able to remind you to get your damn car serviced so you don’t end up stranded on the side of the road!”

Alex’s laugh is a little wet, and he’s reaching out to touch Michael’s stubbled cheek before his mind registers the action. He’s utterly overwhelmed with Michael’s admission, blown away by the honesty and the affection and the care, and God, he wants. He aches for Michael in that moment like he’d spent the better part of a decade aching for him in another part of the world, homesick for a person who wasn’t his anymore, and Alex wants to reclaim that home now more than ever.

Michael swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing convulsively, and continues, “I still can’t look away, Alex. And it hasn’t been our time, but now -- now I think it could be. If you still want to try this with me.”

This time, Alex’s laugh is incredulous. “I thought you heard what Forrest said at the bar,” he says, his expression impossibly fond as he looks back at Michael. “I’m in love with you. And I’m done running.”

The impulse to do it again will come back, he knows. Alex’s spent his entire adult life running, in some way or another, and that’s not going to vanish overnight because he has Michael. But he wants to stay, now. He wants to make a home with the man in front of him, wants to tie their lives together in every conceivable way and spend the rest of his days protecting Michael and making him happy. And that’s a pretty solid foundation on which to build.

Michael’s smile is wide and earnest in a way Alex has so rarely seen, and he drinks it in, promising himself that he’s going to take every opportunity to make Michael smile that way in the future.

And then, without overthinking, without worrying about what happens next, Alex closes the remaining distance between their bodies and seals their lips together in a hard, affirming kiss. Michael’s arms close around him, and Alex allows himself to melt into the warm, strong chest in front of him, content in the knowledge that Michael won’t let him fall.

For the first time since he went to war at eighteen, Alex Manes is officially home.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (3/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: This has been sitting on my computer untouched for a while, along with the timeline I prepared for a multichapter fic. Will probs go back to it soon. Feedback is very much appreciated.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Link to cross-postings: AO3

The forms were so painfully boring, Levi almost regretted agreeing to meet Moblit. One of the few things, if not the only thing, stopping him from backing out of the study then and there, was the hope it could give him an excuse to see her again. He planned to ease himself into the process of meeting her, not wanting to make a complete fool or a complete stalker of himself.

There was the option to ask for her number. The option to ask for her schedule. Or he could maybe just scan through enough pages on google to find some hint as to what the hell she does, where she goes and where he could possibly “accidentally” meet her. The last option had proved ineffective, Levi spent a good few hours a day doing just that. Just in case maybe, the links he found through google do change.

The sheer embarrassment and conflicted feelings that came with having delusion drive his actions, had Levi worse off than before. Although the nightmares that left him in pain in the mornings had become few and far between, he could not help but think that possibly the reason why was because he barely got any sleep anymore, kept awake by his brain trying to process that relationship he had with Hange and the story that was made known to him.

His five hours a night had dwindled into three when classes started. His brain having no time to process the dreams during classes and training, Levi found himself taking up more time lying awake in bed, building the world his dreams were telling him about and how Hange fit into all of it.    

The lack of sleep caught up to him particularly when he was sifting through the pages of waivers and information sheets in the coffee shop near campus at nine in the morning. The words started to blur into blobs and Levi became aware of how much he hated Calibri as a font, a small issue in the grand scheme of things. Lacking sleep and utterly frustrated at his lack of progress though, Levi was finding many reasons not to read them.

He eventually gave up, instead checking box after box after box. “When do you need this?” Levi asked Moblit who sat in front of him.

“As soon as possible… But I really recommend you read ---”

“Well, how much time are you gonna give me to read?”

“I don’t have any classes today so I’m pretty much free the whole day.”

“Same.” He felt the venom in his tone particularly resonate and a part of him regretted it as he said it. That day was particularly special. He had no class. With their coach out on a meeting with other schools to discuss the tournaments and line ups this year, he had given the players a day off. Levi pretty much had that whole day to himself yet, he still went to the trouble of dressing up just to meet Moblit only to find out he’d be going through pages worth of documents while half awake. “I’ll just get a cup of coffee.”

Levi was already halfway out of seat when Moblit took out his wallet.  

“Let me pay for it.” Moblit handed Levi a few bills. He had an apologetic look on his face as if he did understand the inconvenience the study would cause anyone. The look Moblit gave him suddenly made Levi self conscious about the tone he had been answering Moblit with since a while ago.

Levi took the money with a small nod of thanks. It was free coffee after all and he did not have much leeway given his monthly allowance.

When Levi got back to their table black coffee in one hand, he could see that Moblit had reorganized the papers, the uncompleted page sitting neatly on top. He had also opened the sandwich he had bought half an hour ago and was eating it already

“Before I forget, did you bring Hange’s keychain?” Moblit asked in between bites.

“Ah, I forgot about that.” Levi kept his tone emotionless for fear of having his guilt take over him. In fact, he never did forget about the keychain. It sat on the side table next to his bed, a glimmer of hope that that morning in the track wouldn't be the last time he saw her.

“Maybe I could come back to your dorm with you and get it after this?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. I’m not going straight to the dorm. I have plans after this.” A blatant lie. Levi rarely forgot plans.

“Really?”

Levi made a show of going through his phone as he sat down. “Sorry, I didn’t check my calendar this morning. It looks like I have to work on my own stuff for my thesis with my groupmates.” Seniors did not have as many classes as lowerclassmen so the excuse for classes probably would not have worked. As Levi also was aware, the weight of the responsibility lost by only having two classes a week was replaced with the weight of the expectation of creating their own research to add to the body of knowledge in their major.

“How long is your meeting? Maybe I could stop by...” Moblit looked unsure about his own suggestion as if he too understood too the importance of thesis for any senior.

“I dunno. It’s our first meeting and it’s pretty important since we still don’t have much planned.” At that moment, Levi thanked the heavens for his course. He was taking an interdisciplinary track so people had the option to do their thesis by group or individually. His choice of his classes had made it so that he had to do his thesis individually. Moblit did not need to know that much though.

The magic word “thesis” eventually did work in the conversation between the two seniors and finally, Moblit had dropped his shoulders in defeat. “Sorry if I’m being a little pushy. I guess that keychain is just pretty important to me too. I was the one who gave it to her.”  

Levi studied the face of Moblit as they talked. Molit did not have the most memorable face so Levi had not figured it out at first glance. As he allowed himself a few seconds to focus on his features and match it to those in his dream, he realized that Moblit was the same soldier who was constantly following Hange in his dreams. “You two must be close,” Levi said. Hange and I were close too.

"We're childhood friends.”

Levi found himself envying Moblit’s place in Hange’s life. Not wanting to engage that thought though, he instead decided to digress into something more positive for him. “So you'd know why she seemed pretty enthusiastic about her thesis.”

“She’s just passionate and gets a little too excited at times.” Moblit gave an embarrassed smile from what could have been second hand embarrassment. “I really hope you didn’t end up hating her. She really wanted to get to know you.”

“Oh really?” Then why doesn’t she. Levi added to himself.

“She’s been studying athletes since we were in high school. One of our friends was actually the subject of our final thesis for high school and Hange won best research with her. She wanted to move on to studying more high level athletes and she was talking non stop about the possibility of working with an athlete here. Then when we were scouting around for athletes to possibly study, she started showing me a lot of videos of you. She could talk non stop about your form, the height you achieved, your body control. I guess that was until you guys ended up meeting...” Moblit looked like he was aware of the weight of that statement and had tried to lighten the mood with a light laugh.

Levi rearranged that last sentence in his head. Until she met me.

Moblit had trailed off from there and Levi wondered how what kind of face he was making for Moblit to realize he had felt guilty about it.

Moblit gave Levi a consoling look. “She seems to be progressing well with Elijah though.”

For a second, Levi could not fathom how Moblit got the idea that that sentence could console him. In fact, just knowing that Hange had gotten over him so fast, had his chest knotting up.

On the outside though, he made sure to raise his eyebrows and nod, to look at least a little surprised and interested. “How’s her research so far?”

Moblit shook his head in amazement. “She's working at a much faster pace than I am. After what happened with you, it’s pretty admirable she bounced back so fast.”

“I don’t hate her. I could work with her if she really wants to.”

“God, this makes me think I should have started earlier." Moblit rested his forehead on his palm. "Your suggestion might be hard... Last time I checked, she was neck deep in her research with Elijah already.”

Even as a senior, there were places on campus Levi had never visited. All of his classes were clustered in one small area of the campus.  The track he would rush to train in would be just a five minute walk away, his dorm a fifteen minute walk or a five minute bike.

He never had any reason to visit the other side which housed the science students and the laboratories. Possibly, one of the reasons why he had never met Hange until that day in the track.

It was a ten minute walk from his dormitory, in a completely different direction from his buildings and the track. He decided to abandon his bike for the more flexible option of walking. He did not know if they had have any place to park a bike nor how long he would be there. More importantly, he wanted the freedom of slowing his pace without considering the traffic as he took in the unfamiliar scenery.

Third floor. Fritz Hall.

In fact, he did not need the directions to the biology department. He could have easily asked anyone among the students there. The more important information was the room number and the laboratory name.

He clutched the keychain in his pocket and  took the stairs two at a time arriving into a narrow corridor that stretched into both directions.

Thesis labs. Or that was how Mobilit described them. Each biology professor managed a laboratory for students. There were those who focused on internal medicine, those who focused on epidemiology. In each of those rooms was an office and a lab for senior students doing research under the guidance of a professor of a similar specialty.

If he wanted to find Hange, the office was their best chance. Room 301. It would be at one of the ends of the corridors. He only had to figure out the order of the numbers and from there, walk towards the end of the hall. He gripped the handle of the door and pushed it down, only pushing slightly at the door to open a crack wide enough to peek in.

“May I help you?”

“You’re Erwin Smith…” Just like with Hange, Levi had quickly picked up the name as he saw him.

“Yes I am. Nice to meet you.” Erwin did not look surprised to see that someone had named him by face. That was enough of a hint for Levi to realize that that man was probably their professor on top of how he dressed and how he carried himself.

“I’m looking for Hange Zoe.” Levi decided at that moment not to lie. He was sure he could find a reason to justify wanting to give it directly to Hange. He did not want to consider it at that moment. He just wanted to see her.

“She has class now but you can wait for her inside the lab." He gave Levi a onceover. You must be Elijah then.”

Levi gave a subtle nod, hoping Erwin would at least not take that as a full yes later on. At that point in time, he just wanted to minimize the questions he might need to answer. HIs heart was beating hard and his mind was racing. He had gone behind Moblit’s back, taking note of the schedule shared to him and picking a time where Moblit would not be in the office. Pretense and lies were nothing new to Levi but the presence of Erwin in the room particularly made Levi feel dirty for going through all that just to meet one person. With Erwin in front of him, for the first time he felt guilty lying.

"It's obvious from your build that you've been jumping and running your whole life. I hope you could give Hange some good data. All she’s been talking about was this study since I agreed to take her in."

“What’s her research about?” Was she enjoying working with Elijah so far? Was she happy? There were too many things Levi had wanted to ask but he found himself treading along the narrow path of things only Elijah would have known.

Erwin looked at him questioningly. “She wants to do a case study. I expected she’d at least tell you that much.” He shook his head and smiled. “She always had trouble explaining science jargon to the average person.”

Levi wanted to kick himself. Erwin at least answered his own question on any suspicion he might have about Levi (or Elijah.)

“Elijah, do me a favor and ask her yourself. I’d rather Hange also learned how to communicate science to the average person.” Erwin tapped Levi on the shoulder. “Make yourself at home. NIfa’s in the laboratory right now so she can keep you company. You can also use the computer while waiting.”

Levi only noticed the book bag Erwin was holding to his side as he looked back at him. He could not help but feel a bout of disappointment as he saw the professor walk away. It felt like there was still a lot to learn from him.

Levi entered the laboratory to find a woman with auburn hair hunched over a microscope. “Where’s Erwin going?” He asked.

“Erwin?” Nifa looked up from her  “Doctor Smith you mean?”

Nifa. That’s her name. Oddly, Levi did not need to ask for her name either.

Nifa only confirmed it a second later after chastising him for calling Erwin his first name. ‘Doctor Smith did not roll out of Levi’s tongue as well as Erwin. The most Levi could hope for was he never faced a situation where he had to call him by name again. A long shot if he ended up working with Hange or Moblit. At the same time, a worry he did not want to occupy himself with again.

“Hange’s class ends at two so you’re gonna have to wait an extra thirty minutes. You can use the computer over there to pass the time.”

Levi looked down at his phone to see only one bar on the upper right.

“Yeah, problems about being stationed at the corner of the building. No signal. And the wifi is only strong enough for a laptop.” Nifa gestured at her own laptop next to the microscope.

Levi walked towards the computer. It was an older model but it looked well loved. He only had to click on his mouse for the screen to boot up to the home screen with some desktop background which looked like some campaign for underprivileged kids and untapped potentials.

He clicked on the google chrome icon. The option to restore pages from a previous session popped up. He had considered completely ignoring it but he considered it might be someone’s precious browsing history and instead decided to leave it on and to just open an incognito instead for his own personal browsing

He was ready to open one up when he saw the tabs that had opened up in front of him.

Ackerman bags gold, Miller silver in the Collegiate Cup.

Levi looked to the profile on the right to see that it was Hange’s Google profile logged into the account. She was researching him?

That small glimmer of what could have been happiness dissipated as soon as Levi figured out the pattern of the articles.

It wasn’t about him.

High Jump Superstar Miller breaks record in high school meet.

Miller commits to Paradis University.

College sophomore Miller bags gold in Horizontal Jump Event.

It was torture looking through the multiple tabs that reopened. As painful as it was, he still  wanted to confirm if Hange really was ‘neck deep’ in her research. The bookmarked pages, he also decided to take a peek at had confirmed his fear. There were fifty if not a hundred tabs with article titles mentioning that one athlete.

Levi found himself closing the tabs as he went through them, a small rebellion to the reality in front of him. Hange probably bookmarked them if she needed them anyway. He stopped as he came across a Youtube video towards the end of the string of tabs.

WATCH: College Junior Ackerman beats both personal and national record for the High Jump Category.

Rookie Ackerman bags gold in the Regional Cup with record breaking height.

Levi recognized those tournaments. Those were his best jumps, one of them the most recent one he had performed, only earlier that year.

Watching the videos with the commentary felt surreal. In the interviews, he was the one answering the questions but somehow, Levi felt like he was still learning something new from the version of himself of the screen. He never did pay too much attention during interviews, only asking the questions when asked in the manner Coach Greg had directed him too.

Not wanting to confuse himself any longer with what seemed like another out of body experience, he focused again on Hange’s Gmail account which was logged into Youtube. Just to make sure his conclusion had been real. She was still watching his videos.

She had committed to working with Elijah. Why?  

“Miller was slated to be the new superstar in Paradis University with a vertical jump of 8 centimeters  and a promising record height differential of 40 centimeters.”

Levi jumped as he heard someone talk behind him. How long has she been there? It was her voice. Yet at the same time, it was too uncharacteristically serious he did not want to believe it was her. As Levi slowly looked behind me, she only continued to talk.

“But then four years ago, Coach Gregory Rivers scouts a new kid from a small town five hours away from the city. The kid had potential. Enough potential to maybe play backup to Elijah Miller. Levi Ackerman with a vertical leap of 76 centimeters and a record height differential of 37 centimeters.”

“Elijah Miller had a higher overall record. Mike Zacharias and Nanaba Briete too." Mike Zacharias and Nanaba Briete . Those were the two athletes who had cooperated with Hange's study back in high school. Levi had made sure to read her old research, in case he would have to use them to convince her to reconsider him.

“Your numbers in high school weren’t groundbreaking. Unless we consider that you’re 157 centimeters tall." The wonder was back in her voice, completely replacing what he realized was the scientist in her talking. "You did not have the height but you had remarkable control, the core strength, the leg power and the flexibility to fly over the bar even when you’re so close to it. That was what Gregory Rivers saw in you when he scouted you for Paradis University. What he didn't expect was for you to outshine Miller or even the seniors."

Hange came up behind him and grabbed the mouse. As Levi watched her go through the bookmarks, he realized if he had scrolled further, he would have seen more bookmarks.

Rookie Ackerman bags gold in the Regional Cup.

Super rookie carries Paradis to nationals.

She clicked one of the bookmarks and played the the video that came up. Levi could only watch silently as the Levi on the screen ran towards the bar, and propelled himself through the air. His vertical was definitely much higher than 37 centimeters at that point. In college though, no one in his team was counting anymore. The importance was he got through every jump without ever touching the bar.

"I wanna know Levi. From a nobody from a no name school, how did your height differential increase twofold. More importantly, how is it that you've not failed a single jump since you entered university? It's amazing. The amount of balance, core strength and body control to keep your body flexible enough not to hit the bar. The amount of leg strength needed to jump that high. You really must be superhuman.”

“I’m not.” Regretfully, Levi’s denial was enough for Hange to snap out of her state of what seemed like euphoria.

Hange put her hand to her mouth. "Sorry, I talked too much." With that, she resisted the closeness and was once again a meter away just standing awkwardly behind him. "I guess I should go back to work. Did Moblit tell you what time he'll be coming?"

"Moblit's not coming today."

"Oh... Can I help you with something?" Once again, Hange was watching her words and her movements with him. That was not the Hange from his dreams. The Hange that had introduced herself the first time they had met on the track. It pained Levi to see her like that and he wanted to make it right.

Levi had prepared himself for possible interactions when he read through Hange's old works. At that moment, Levi took control of his feelings. " I came here because I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to consider." He kept his words as careful as Hange's were with him. "I read your case study on Nanaba Briete and Mike Zacharius. And I thought I could probably provide you with similar data, maybe better data. Let me jump for you."

"Levi…"

"No. I wanna jump for you." Levi did not know what Hange had planned to say. At that point, he did not want to give her any doubts to build on.

This time I'm not going to lose you. A voice inside him said. It disappeared soon after and Levi wondered when he had he lost her.

[himbowelsh]

So I’m making this anonymous only because I don’t want to feel I’m looking for too much attention, but my dog died today completely unexpectedly and I feel like shit 😰 could I pretty please request something with Easy and dogs. If this is not your forte I totally understand ☺️

Oh god, darling, I’m so sorry. Losing a pet is a pain unlike any other, almost like losing a part of yourself...  as much as you’re hurting right now, just remember your dog always knew they were loved, and loved you back just as much. You gave your pup a great life, and wherever they are now, they still love you.

If you’re looking for Easy and dogs, I have a few fics you might like:

baberoe has a dog incident

luztoye has another dog incident

bullmartin and yet another dog incident

winnix has a colorful dog incident (soulmate au!)

not a fic, but a very accurate edit of easy co as dogs

And here’s something soft and puppyish...  hopefully it makes you feel better!

Sometimes people seek out a new pet; sometimes, they have pet-parenthood thrust upon them.

In Joe Liebgott’s case, it happens literally. Someone leaves a wine box on the floor of his cab; he notices a few minutes after he drops the guy off, and he’s just doubling back to try and find him when the box starts squeaking.

Joe almost crashes the car.

As if turns out, the box’s precious cargo isn’t liquor, but...  puppies. An absurd amount of puppies. Mind you, Joe’s never owned a dog in his life, so more than two puppies seems like an absurd amount to him, and there’s gotta be, like...  six in here. Six squirming balls of fur, can’t be more than a few weeks old. Their eyes are hardly open yet. They’re climbing over each other to escape the box as soon as Joe opens it...  but everything they can’t say, the sharpie scribbled on the inside of the cardboard speaks for itself.

FREE PUPPIES, DO NOT RETURN

Which...  shit. Shit. Joe races through all the possibilities in his mind. The guy didn’t give his name, and paid in cash. He dropped him off at the airport. He could be damn anywhere right now!

And god help him if Joe has the first clue what to do with literal infant dogs.

Logic tells him, “go to the animal hospital now,” but he’s never been there in his life  ---  and aren’t those places overcrowded anyway? They’re in the middle of Santa Monica, there’ve got to be multiple animal shelters around, but god help him if he knows where any are...

Joe goes home. He panics, okay?

He has to sneak past the doorman, through the lobby, and into the elevator with a very conspicuous wine box that keeps making noises. The old lady from the fourth floor glares at him the whole ride up, and Joe can only nod his head at her while a tiny head pokes out a hole in the cardboard.

Web isn’t home, for once, because he has a lunch date with his editor; Joe almost wishes he was, because having someone else to bounce off of in this situation would be a great thing. Left to his own devices, however, he does the only thing he can think of; pulls the spare comforter out of the closet, lays it down in the empty bathtub, and dumps the pups in. After some consideration, he adds one of Web’s shark plushies, because the pups are tiny and probably missing their mother.

Their mother...  shit, they need their mom, don’t they? Pups that small can’t be without their mom, he knows he saw that on Animal Planet somewhere...

And, because Joe’s got the panic instincts of a twelve year old boy, he calls the one person who definitely knows what to do with a baby: his mom.

Mama Liebgott makes it to the apartment in twenty minutes. Ten minutes later, she’s setting up a heating pad in the puppies’ nest, while Joe scours the internet for how to care for newborn puppies. Mama calls in the troops  ---  Joe’s sisters are on their way. 

They send Joe out of the apartment with a list; when he comes back, his arms are weighed down with shopping bags, filled with formula, eyedroppers, puppy toys, and anything else little dogs could possibly need. Joe Liebgott is never one to half-ass shenanigans; he goes all-out.

Webster comes home to...  chaos.

Their bathroom has been turned into an improvised NICU, their apartment’s been sanitized and baby-proofed to high-hell, Joe’s mother and sisters are lounging around the living room with tiny bundles of something in their arms...

And in the middle of the chaos, Joe’s standing there, a blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms, bouncing it and cooing softly.

“Yeah, you’re a tough one, arencha, little buddy? Yeah...  I see it in ya. You’re a fighter. We’re gonna take good care of you, I promise...”

He has no clue what the hell is going on, but Webster melts. To the floor. Literally, his legs get a little weak.

“Uh  ---  Lieb? You wanna explain what on earth’s h---  is that a dog?”

Joe just grins. He’s never been an animal person in his life, but now he looks like he’s in heaven. “Dogs,” he declares. “We’ve got dogs, Web.”’

Webster has entered the Twilight Zone.

When they take them to the vet (Webster’s idea, because he actually has common sense), the puppies are given a clean bill of health, but as they’re definitely too young to be separated from their mother, there’s a laundry list of things that must be done to take care of them. The vet offers to take the puppies off their hands, and Webster has a brief moment of overwhelming relief, before Joe answers, “Thank you, but we got this.”

Webster drops his coffee all over the exam room floor. “We?” He demands, too shocked to form a cohesive sentence. “We?”

Joe’s eyes flash. “Fine, Web. You don’t gotta be involved, I’ll take care of ‘em myself. Found ‘em in my car, after all.”

“I live with you, asshole!”

And that’s how Webster and Liebgott become Dog Moms.

Of course Web’s going to help. He’s not a monster. He’s actually a pretty decent person, when push comes to shove...  and, once the Liebgott Crisis Team have all returned to their respective homes, he can’t bear to leave Joe to look after the babies by himself.

The worst part is, he’s not even a dog person. Suddenly, he and Joe are being kept up at all hours by a league of puppies. They’re so young that they can’t eat solid food yet, so it’s a round-the-clock task to keep them fed and looked after. 

Of course, Joe takes to the task like a diligent soldier, following every direction the vet gave them to a ‘t’. He takes a week off work, devoting himself 24/7 to the puppies’ care. It’s a lot on him. By the end of the fourth day, he’s been run ragged, dark shadows under his eyes and exhaustion knitting his brow. Web makes him some tea, settles him down on the couch, and massages his shoulders until Joe falls asleep. Then he takes on the task of feeding all six puppies by himself.

He gets peed on. Thrice.

It’s still worth it. After a few weeks, the puppies don’t need to be fed so frequently...  and they’re growing enough that there’s no more containing them in the bathtub. Joe and Web set up a puppy playpen that ends up taking up most of their living room, and set the kids loose. 

By now, the pups are old enough to wreak havoc, and starting to develop their own personalities. Shelley and Rocko have a talent for getting into everything, Byron is a biter, Goblin has no coordination and keeps tripping over his oversized feet, Fiona cries when either of them leave her alone, and Greg...  Greg is an escape artist. (Bonus points for guessing who named who. They got three pups each.)

Their house becomes a hub of curious friends and relatives. Tab and Shifty are over nearly every day to play with the pups; Joe’s youngest sister Amy keeps coming over too, and Tab won’t stop hitting on her; they wake up one morning to find Luz passed out in the Puppy Pit, tiny dogs clambering all over him, and no one knows how the hell he got in their house. Suddenly Joe and Web are the most popular guys in town.

It’s...  weird. Webster’s never been popular before. He’s not sure he likes it.

Weeks turn into months, and at some point, the pups are big enough to clamber around the apartment unaided. The vet estimates they’re twelve weeks old now, and keeping them inside is becoming a big challenge. Their building doesn’t allow dogs, for one, and they have to keep sneaking them past the concierge; potty training is becoming a living nightmare; and frankly, the dogs are getting too big to be cooped up inside all the time. Six newborn puppies is one thing, but six growing dogs...  different story.

They need to get rid of the dogs.

Thankfully, they’ve got no shortage of volunteers. Joe’s mom takes Goblin “for protection”, even if Goblin’s the clumsiest little monster that’s ever walked the face of the earth. Luz and Rocko have bonded, so he takes him home. Tab would probably adopt them all if he could, but since he can’t (Trigger is a handful already) Shifty lovingly takes on Shelley. oddly enough, Speirs has formed a special attachment to Fiona, cradling her like a baby and doting on her ever chance he gets, so he gets her. Rocko is a little evil, but he’s cute, and Nixon is a sucker for a cute face, so he gets the chaos demon.

That leaves them with Byron. Freaking Byron.

“Figures we’d get left with the one dog with the worst goddamn name  ---”

Joe has a soft spot for Byron. They both like to bite things, growl when they’re angry, and pass out in strange places, so it’s a great fit.

Letting a dog into their lives wasn’t something either of them planned on; but sometimes fate intervenes, and you never know when it will be for the better.

Cuddled up on the couch, with Joe dozing against his shoulder and Byron a heavy weight between them both, Web finds that he doesn’t regret a thing.

[writethehousedown]

Trust Fund, Gold Tongue 2/7 (Crygi) - Peridot

A/N: Thank you to everyone who showed the last chapter some love! I’m really enjoying writing this little universe, and I hope you’re enjoying it so far! My interpretation of this prompt is minuscule, but it’s there if you squint, I promise! As always my sideblog is @artificialperidot, and you can also check this fic out on ao3 if you’re feeling extra generous! Hope you enjoy!

Gigi wondered how she came to sit around a table with all four of her parents around one table at the same time. It was a modern day miracle, seeing they all hated each other in some way- even the couples couldn’t stand each other half of the time. But she supposed their family had an appearance to keep up, and she didn’t want to think about how the tabloids would document their secret family hatred if someone leaked the information that they were sitting at different tables in the dining hall. 

The tabloids would be absolutely correct, though.

As a little kid, Gigi wanted nothing more than for her families to come together. At seventeen, she realised that the adults sitting opposite from her were all idiots.

Gigi loved her mom, she really did, but her taste in men was appalling to say the least. Her newest man, James, had only been around for about a month, and Gigi was already anticipating the messy breakup, where she’d have to pick up the pieces on her mother’s behalf, holding her whilst she cried and convincing her to get her life together again. It was a cycle that was used to, and one that didn’t look like it would break any time soon. Her mom cycled through men like tracks on a really terrible CD, and Gigi had never liked a single one of them. The worst of all of them, though, was her dad.

She did not want to even think about him, let alone sit through a three course meal with him every evening. Or that 30 year old with bleach blonde hair hanging off of his arm who had asked Gigi to call her mom. As if.

The five of them sat around the restaurant table in the busy country club dining hall, and Gigi found herself in a world of her own, absentmindedly twirling her straw in her drink and ignoring the chatter of the others around the table. Her parents made painfully awkward small talk between them as they waited for their meals to arrive, something about business finances or their new cars or the stock market. Gigi zoned out - her parents never really seemed interested in including her in their conversations. Not that Gigi would’ve wanted to talk to them, anyway.

She found it funny, though, that none of them would want to be within 50 feet of each other if it wasn’t for her. She was the reason they all ended up at her dad’s country club every summer. She usually lived with her mom in their penthouse, and put up with whatever boyfriends she had, because although it wasn’t perfect, anything was better than her dad’s house. But, legally, her dad was supposed to see her at least a few weeks a year, and so she and her mom and whoever her mom was seeing were all dragged to this hellhole every summer. 

Three months she inwardly reminded herself. Three more months, and then she’d be eighteen, and her parents would finally let her buy a place of her own, and she would never have to set foot in a country club again. She’d been begging to buy a house of her own from the day she turned sixteen, but her parents would hear none of it, telling her that she was far too young to be trusted to spend that much money all at once. They didn’t seem to have an issue when she blew thousands on clothes or cars or house parties all at once, though. The hypocrites.

Her eyes scanned the restaurant around her, searching for a distraction, and she caught sight of the guy she had thrown her drink at earlier - her dad’s friend, David or Dave or something. She noted his change of shirt from the blue polo that had been drenched in pink lemonade, and smiled at the memory. He got what he deserved, she thought. Nothing made her more mad than people who were rude to the staff.

She was sad she had to run away without that girl though. Crystal. She was pretty adorable. 

She hoped she’d see her around again, soon.

Before long, a waiter came by their table and served their food, plates piled high with steak and grilled veg and some sort of fancy sauce on the side. Gigi’s mouth watered - as much as she hated having dinner with her family, the food was never a let down.

She was halfway through a mouthful of roast beef when her mom started talking again, but this time it was to her. 

“You know, Gigi, James’s nephew is going to be spending a few weeks at the country club this summer,” she said, taking a sip of her wine.

“Oh, cool,” Gigi replied, disinterested.

“His name’s Matthew. He’s around your age, too,” she said, nodding and sharing a knowing look with the others around the table. “We were all thinking…maybe the two of you could, you know, go on a date.”

Gigi almost choked on her mouthful.

Go on a what?!

“Um, thanks, but no thanks.” she replied, her voice a little shaky. She could feel her heart start pounding in her chest a little harder and a little faster than she would’ve liked. 

“Oh, Gigi, give him a chance! He’s a nice young man, isn’t he, James?” her mom said, nudging her boyfriend with her arm. James nodded dumbly, before shoving another mouthful of potato into his mouth.

Tension rose in Gigi’s body, her mom’s words ringing in her ears. “I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but I’m not really looking to date someone right now,” she said, doing her best to be polite and not get too emotional.

“Come on Gigi, you’re almost eighteen. It’s about time you got a boyfriend,” her dad butted in, his tone seeming too aggressive for the conversation. She was surprised that her mom and dad had actually agreed on something for once, even if it was for entirely different reasons. Her mom, deep down, wanted to protect her, for her to be happy - her dad wanted her to be someone else’s responsibility.

And Gigi wanted anything but a boyfriend.

Now would seem like a good time for Gigi to remind her parents that she was a lesbian, but she didn’t particularly want to have another screaming match in a public dining hall. She had tried to have that conversation before, and it didn’t end well. She pictured the way her mom had looked so scared when her dad had yelled and rampaged through their house. How she had told her afterwards to not bring it up in front of her father again. How guilty she had felt for causing her dad to explode like that, and for making her mom so scared. 

Her parents had broken up not long after that. And Gigi never brought it up again.

She had kept her love life completely private from then on, sharing secret rendezvous with girls at parties that she would never see again, and playing the role of the straight girl in front of her family. And, her family put a bandage on the stab wounds and acted as if nothing had ever happened.

But, pretending to be straight and actually dating a boy were completely different things, and there was no way she was going to let her family force her into a relationship. No way.

“Sorry, but I’m not interested. End of story,” she said firmly, her tone cutting, and it seemed to shut them up.

The five of them ate the rest of their meals in relative silence, the tension so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife. Gigi was suddenly thankful for the old saying that it was rude to talk with your mouth full. Gigi kept her mouth full as often as possible.

Dinner came and went, and desserts were ordered, Gigi opting for a raspberry sorbet that was new to the menu this year. Her parents ordered more drinks to go alongside their desserts, and Gigi wished she was a couple of years older so that she could have a few shots to make sitting through dinner more bearable.

Minutes ticked by like hours as she waited for her dessert to arrive, to give her something sweet to distract from the sour atmosphere. When it did though, she was met by an even sweeter surprise.

“One raspberry sorbet?” a voice asked from behind her. 

She looked up to see a familiar face placing the pink dessert down on their table and her heart skipped a beat. 

Crystal. The girl that had infatuated Gigi to the point of provoking her to throw her drink in a grown man’s face. She wasn’t too easy to forget.

Her red curls were tucked behind her ears, and she looked as though a faint blush was creeping over her cheeks. She smiled, giving Gigi a knowing look and a small nod, before walking away from their table, bouncing a little as she walked.

God she was cute.

Gigi was suddenly far less interested in her dessert.

“Uh, excuse me for a moment,” she said, and before her parents could protest, she abruptly stood up from the table and left, set on going after Crystal. She wasn’t exactly sure what she intended to say to her, but just seeing her had flipped her mood on its head entirely, and God knows Gigi needed some serotonin.

Plus, flirting with a member of staff would make her summer a little more bearable. Because what her parents didn’t see was none of their business, right?

It didn’t take her long to catch up to Crystal, and just before she made her way back into the staff kitchen area, Gigi grabbed her wrist and tugged her out of the restaurant, around a corner in the porch where they couldn’t be seen.

Crystal looked a little surprised, and took a second to catch her breath, tucking her hands into the front pocket on her apron. “A hello would’ve been nice,” she said in a slightly hushed tone. “You scared me.”

“Nice to see you again too, Crystal,” Gigi replied, and Crystal giggled softly, her nose scrunching up causing Gigi’s stone heart to melt, just a little. From this close together, Gigi could make out the freckles that speckled the girl’s face, and she thought they made her even more beautiful.

Crystal bit her lip. “Um, I never got a chance to thank you, for, ya know… helping me out earlier today,” she said, scratching the side of her temple slightly.

Gigi smirked, thinking about the way the man looked with his wet hair matted to his forehead like dripping curtains. “It was nothing, really. That guy deserved it.”

“His shirt will be sticky forever now,” Crystal said, putting on the voice of a maniacal evil scientist. “The perfect revenge.”

Gigi chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief at how adorably goofy this girl was. But, she wouldn’t be Gigi Goode if she didn’t take an opportunity to mess with her a little when she saw the chance.

“His shirt is not the only thing I can make wet and sticky,” she said, with a cocky wink and a shit-eating grin, before dissolving into laughter.

Crystal’s mouth fell open in a fake gasp as she pretended to clutch her pearls and scolded Gigi, telling her to wash her mouth out with soap, but Gigi couldn’t help but notice the tiniest blush that had appeared on her cheeks, and the way her eyes had widened for just a second.

Adorable.

“So, uh, who were you eating dinner with? Is that your family?” Crystal asked, looking for a way to change the subject.

“Sadly, yes,” Gigi said with a roll of her eyes.

“Which ones are your parents?”

“All of them.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t -”

“It’s okay,” Gigi said with a small chuckle. “Technically only three of them are, because my mom hasn’t married her boyfriend. Like she ever will,” Gigi laughed.

“Your dad owns this place, right?”

Gigi sighed. “Uh-huh,” she said, her voice monotonous.

“Which one is your dad?” Crystal asked, peering her head around the corner to glance at her table.

“The one in the grey blazer.” Gigi gestured towards him slightly, making sure they were still hidden from sight. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t wanna get fired. I need to make sure no one throws a lemonade in his face on my behalf.”

Gigi burst out laughing at that, trying her best to keep her volume to a minimum but not doing a very good job. “Oh believe me, if I could throw a drink in his face, I would.”

Crystal grinned back at her, and Gigi noticed the perfect dimples in each of her cheeks, which somehow made her even more adorable. She found herself drawn to her chocolate eyes, gazing at the twinkle behind her pupils and her long eyelashes that framed them, like they were priceless works of art, which, of course, they were.

They fell into a comfortable silence, and in any other situation, Gigi would’ve made a move. She was never one to wait patiently for the right moment - she was someone that always knew what she wanted, and right now, she wanted nothing more than to cup Crystal’s cheeks and plant a kiss on her lips.

But, she had to remind herself that she was in the middle of a country club, where anyone could see the two of them. And she had a reputation to uphold. She’d need to wait until they were somewhere more private.

Plus, she didn’t want to frighten Crystal. The girl already looked like she was in a constant state of panic as it was, and Gigi thought a kiss would probably tip her anxiety over the edge.

She also wasn’t positive that Crystal liked girls, either, but judging from her messy, curly bob of hair, dyed red, and her nails, short and painted with black nail polish, it seemed a likely possibility.

“I, uh, I should get back to work,” Crystal said, looking away awkwardly.

“Yeah, you probably should,” Gigi replied. Crystal flashed her a pitiful smile, as if to say sorry, that she didn’t want to cut their interaction short, and Gigi couldn’t help but wonder how this girl, this ordinary girl who technically worked for her dad, managed to make her heart flutter with just a simple smile.

But Gigi didn’t want to say goodbye just yet. Not unless she knew she’d see Crystal again soon.

“Hey, are you working again tomorrow?” she asked, an idea popping into her head.

“Yup. 10 hour shift.” Crystal replied, practically groaning.

Gigi smirked. “When’s your break? I need someone to play tennis with.”

Crystal looked taken aback at her proposition. “Uh, I think I have a break at 3ish -”

“Perfect. Then I’ll meet you on the west tennis courts at three,” Gigi smiled, certainty in her tone.

“Uh, cool! I should warn you though, I haven’t played tennis since summer camp when I was like thirteen,” Crystal giggled, looking a little nervous despite the smile plastered on her face.

Gigi raised her eyebrows. “Then I guess I’ll just have to show you the ropes again,” she said, fully aware of the confidence she exuded, and gave Crystal a sly wink, so small that if Crystal had broken eye contact for a second, she would’ve missed it. Judging by the flush of pink on her cheeks, though, she had definitely not missed it.

Crystal grinned. “I look forward to it,” she said with a nod, before slipping back around the corner and going back to her work.

Gigi waited a couple seconds after Crystal left before walking back to her table, making sure to not look too suspicious despite the smile tattooed on her face. When she sat back down again, she was met by the scowl of her father.

“What took you so long?” he grumbled.

“Girl things,” she replied without missing a beat, because she knew that it would shut him up. And, it wasn’t entirely untrue, either.

When she looked down at her plate, though, she discovered that her raspberry sorbet had melted, and was no more than a pink puddle. 

Gigi didn’t mind at all.

[tulipsandtesseracts]

Day 9: Storm (Carry On Series, Snowbaz)

Dec 1: Cozy (Carry On Series, Snowbaz) Dec 2: Ribbon (Carry On Series, Snowbaz) Dec 3: Red (Red White & Royal Blue, Alex x Henry) Dec 4: Light (Frozen, Elsa and Anna) Dec 5: Mistletoe (Carry On Series, Snowbaz) Dec 6: Icicle (Red White & Royal Blue, Alex x Henry) Dec 7: Warmth (Carry On Series, Snowbaz) Day 8: Comfort (Stargate SG-1, Cassie and Teal’c)

I am a bit behind. Just pretend it is still December 9. (Also, 100%: I posted a tiny Stargate ficlet and had to go freak out a little bit.) This is not the fic I meant to write, but Baz would not cooperate when I just wanted him to magic up a stupid snowstorm? So instead there is this which is more post-Wayward Son found family stuffs.

Day 9: Storm (Carry On Series, Snowbaz)

I’d planned to have a peaceful afternoon catching up on some reading before Simon got home from his shift at his new job. And it had started that way, before Fiona called, and Mordelia texted, and Bunce needed to verbally process her plans for the rest of her life prior to leaving the flat for the evening.

Simon should be home any minute now. He’ll be tired after handling customers all day, though, so I probably have another hour or so to read while he watches some show or other to decompress.

I continue to labor under this illusion right up until Snow bursts through the door of the flat, storms across the living room, and throws himself onto the couch with such force that I can feel the bounce of it from the opposite end. I glance up from my book and make note of his red face and his disordered hair, which is pointing in several different directions at once in a way it only does when someone’s been tugging their hands through the curls.

Since I’ve been sitting here reading for the last hour, I can only assume Simon’s turned his hair into a bird’s nest himself.

From the far end of the couch, he cocks an eyebrow in an aggressive way that I often regret teaching him. I shrug in response and return to my book. “Lovely day at work, I take it,” I say, keeping his voice level. Casual. Bored.

Simon snorts. “The shop was fine,” he says.

“Hmm,” I reply, turning to the next page. “Holiday rush?”

“Not much yet.”

I nod. “Bunce said to tell you she’ll be at the library this evening, and you’re to do the dishes.”

Simon lets out a sound that falls somewhere between a groan and a shout.

“It’s just the dishes, Snow.”

“Cut it out, Baz. You don’t have to coddle me.”

Direct questions rarely yield useful information when Snow’s in a mood like this. I know it. Simon knows it. Simon knows I know it. There’s a great deal of knowing it’s true and very little to be done about it. Usually the roundabout path is the better one, but it seems Simon’s not in the mood for it tonight.

“All right, then.” This was definitely not the evening I expected, but then again, things rarely are when Snow’s involved. I set my book down on the coffee table. “What’s got into you, exactly? If we were back at Watford, you’d have smoke coming out of your ears, and I’d be worried you were about to burn the tower down.”

“Lady Salisbury stopped in at the shop.”

Ah. That would explain the mood - the long-lost and newly-devoted grandmother. (And hadn’t that been a shock to everyone concerned when it had come to light this fall?) “She probably came in person because you never answer your phone. Which, as your boyfriend, I can assure you is quite annoying.”

Simon kicks the table leg. “You’re quite annoying.”

“My life-long goal.” I pause, then try again. “I assume she wasn’t just calling in to say hello.”

Snow drags his fingers through his hair, and yes, that’s definitely why it looks the way it does right now. “She wants me to come visit on Saturday,” he says at last. “Said she’s ‘having a few friends in for dinner.’ And my uncle.”

“And?”

“And what?” He kicks at the table leg again, but it’s softer this time. “I couldn’t very well tell her no to her face, could I?”

To be honest, I’m surprised he didn’t. “Not without becoming the main gossip at the club,” I say, considering. “Magickal society loves a good family rift.”

“The club,” he scoffs. “Last summer they’d all but forgotten I exist. Except your parents, who we both know wish they could. But I’m a Salisbury now, so suddenly everybody cares?”

I don’t say anything to that. He’s not wrong, but we’ve been round and round this track before. It doesn’t go anywhere.

“And how is it a rift when I was never really family in the first place?” he goes on, still properly worked up.

“Don’t coddle you?” I ask. “Are you sure about that?”

He makes a face and then shrugs. “That’s what I said.”

I sigh, then I scoot down the couch to sit closer to him. “Simon, you avoid her, you don’t take her calls, and when Dr. Wellbelove first introduced you, you ran out of the room like you had goblins to slay.”

“Slaying goblins was easier. I don’t even know how to have a family.”

He’s still grumpy. But when he moves, it’s to close the rest of the gap between us, pressing his shoulder up against mine.

It’s a miracle we are having this conversation, I remind myself. That he’s not just in his bedroom lying down with the curtains drawn, or sitting here next to me, not touching, not talking, not living. The fact that he’s not yet noticed he’s been here with Bunce and myself these last few years, having the best approximation of a functioning family we can give him, is best left for another day.

“You smile at the ones you hate,” I say instead, “and make fun of the ones you like. It’s not that difficult.”

“I don’t think normal people do family like you and your aunt.”

I wave a hand. “Well, you can run around tripping over each other and trying to steal the best books for yourself, if you want to use the Bunce model.”

“Not for books,” he says. “Maybe if it were scones instead.”

“I’ll fight Bunce for the books, then.” I tap my foot against his. “If she were here, she’d say something optimistic. That Lady Salisbury means well, or some rot like that.”

“Except she’d say it while telling me what to wear and which fork to eat with.”

I can’t help myself. “See, you do know what it’s like to have a family.”

He smiles, just a bit. “Penny’s not here. What do you say?”

“Lady Salisbury means well.”

“Baz.”

“It’s a nice house,” I offer. “No wraiths, so it’s better than visiting my parents.”

“Also, she actually wants me there.”

“Also that.” I lay my hand on his leg, palm up, and wait for him to take it. “Go see your grandmother,” I say when he does. “If it’s miserable we’ll go to the pub when you get home. If it’s not, you can take me for baked goods in the morning. You win either way.”

He nods, then leans sideways to look out the window. “Maybe we’ll get snowed in.” He frowns as though he can manifest snowflakes himself. He turns back to me. “Can we get snowed in?”

“The forecast is clear as a bell through next week, sadly.”

He squeezes my hand. “You have a magic wand!”

“Weather magic’s dangerous, Simon,” I say in my best Penelope Bunce voice.

He cracks up laughing, his morose mood gone just like that.

I’ll never completely understand, but I don’t really care. I’m just glad to see his smile.

“I’m hungry,” he says, when he’s calmed down again.

“You’re always hungry.”

“It’s your fault for talking about pastries. Did Penny really say the thing about the dishes?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, Snow.”

“Will you help?”

I shove his leg with my foot before sliding back to the other end of the couch and retrieving my book. “Go do your chores, Chosen One. Then we’ll find you dinner.”

“All right.” He gets up and heads for the kitchen. “I like that plan.”

So do I.

[defiant-firefly]

October Challenge Day 9

Aight this is part two to Day 7′s prompt. This time I used the prompt ‘Lost’ from the Spookyartober prompt list by @ lauritanaomystery! I’d take them properly but like… this isn’t art and I wanted to continue day 7′s prompt without it being too long and just picked the nearest prompt that even remotely matched so…

Anyway, this part is the immediate aftermath of what happened to Labby on Day 7. There’s nothing much said about it, it’s just vaguely mentioned that she was hurt and that’s it. It’s just 024 giving her hugs after it all pretty much.

Fic under cut!

Where would she be this time? Would she be waiting for her with Snowy today? Or maybe she decided to go for a walk and would meet up with her later? 024 hummed as she wondered about 031’s whereabouts.

She’d grown rather fond of their time together, just like she was fond of her time with Snowy. Approaching the rock they usually met at, she was greeted with the unusual sight of it being unoccupied. It wasn’t often 031 decided not to meet her there. More often than not, they would sit together or wait for Snowy before wandering around the outdoor space. She wasn’t worried though. Whilst it was rare, she’d been known to disappear to try talking to the others every so often.

She decided she’d wait for a while. She would show up soon.

024 smiled as she noticed the small ball of white fur bounding towards her through a gap in the fence.

“Hello again, Snowy.” She greeted as he barked happily at her and jumped onto the rock beside her. He nuzzled against her hand as she gently pet his head, tail wagging all the while. “How have you been today?”

He barked as he jumped down again and ran around in a circle once, twice, thrice.

“Ah, you want to play? Did you bring a stick?” She asked as he bowed playfully before running off. He returned a few moments later, a stick in his jaws to present her with. It was a shame 031 hadn’t decided to join them yet given how she’d grown to love playing with him as much as she had.

“Thank you.” 024 spoke as she gently pried the stick from his mouth. He bounced back excitedly, putting some distance between them in preparation for the game to start. The moment she tossed the stick an intended short distance away, he sped off at almost alarming speed towards it. Snowy eagerly trotted back with it, running in a wide arch before returning to her. He clung to it as she tried to take it and she had to laugh at his insistence that he was stronger than her.

It really was a shame 031 wasn’t here to play too.

Throwing the stick again, 024 once again wondered where she’d gotten to. Maybe she’d managed to strike up a conversation with one of the others? Or she’d been kept back for maintenance? Hmm…

As a small bubble of worry started to build the more she threw the stick for Snowy, she found herself scanning the area for any sign of her. The worry only grew as she came up empty handed.

“Snowy?” A bark as he stopped bouncing around her feet for a moment. “Have you seen her today?” He made a sound similar to a hum or a growl, answering her question with a no. “Oh…”

Had she been…? Was she still here?

024 shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts. There was always a possibility but…

“Never mind. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” She assured herself as she picked the stick back up again in an attempt to continue their game. Snowy whined, apparently not convinced everything was okay. “No, I don’t know where she is either.”

Snowy barked before running a little way ahead of her before stopping to look back at her. Looks like he wanted to go looking for her. She supposed it was only fair since 031 was usually the one looking for her.

“Alright. Let’s see if we can find her.” 024 relented before dropping the stick and following him to the edge of the outdoors area. The two started wandering the perimeter, Snowy seemingly having no trouble telling everyone apart despite the similar appearances of most of them. She wondered how he could tell…

A few of the others turned to watch them curiously whenever he barked or she spoke to him to. How far human were these ones?

She shook her head again. There was no need to remind herself of that now. She was making sure her friend was okay first.

By the time they returned to the rock, her heart had fallen. Where was 031?

She supposed if she wasn’t out here by now, there was only one answer to that question. At the realisation, she felt herself starting to shake.

Did she lose her? Already?

Which one of them had her memories? Had her thoughts and feelings squashed inside of them? Which one was responsible for it?

She sat down on the rock, a hand over her mouth and the other over her chest, an unfamiliar liquid building at her eyes. What was…?

Snowy whined and hopped up beside her, pushing his head under her arm in an attempt to get her to hold him. She obliged, holding him close to her, his warmth comforting.

Would she never get to see her again? See her play with Snowy again? Hear her ask questions about the sky again? Or talk about the researchers strange habits again?

She tried reaching out via her plume of dusk, trying to sense her location but as expected, she got nothing but the ones nearby.

Had 031 really lost her battle…?

She had to stop that thought before it could continue as the sound to return to the lab rang through her skull.

“That’s all the time we have for today, Snowy…” 024 trailed, unwilling to let her only source of comfort go. He whined as she gently set him down on the ground and stood to leave. She didn’t hear him walk away as she did. Instead, he seemed to wait and watch her return to the lab by herself this time.

Another day of testing began and she did her best not to lose, increasing the total of those that lost their battles with every sword strike. She tried not to dwell on that. The moment the alarm signalled their time to leave, she clung to the small hope that maybe 031 had been kept back last night for testing purposes and she’d get to see her again tonight.

There was a chance. It was small, miniscule even, but she didn’t want to believe the alternative just yet.

Returning to the rock, she found Snowy already waiting for her.

“Hello again, Snowy.” She greeted but his eyes were fixed on the doors to the lab she’d just walked through. Was he worried as well?

She sat down next to him, determined to wait this time. If 031 didn’t show up then…

They stayed on that rock for what felt like an eternity with her gently petting the dog’s fur in an attempt to comfort both him and herself. The minutes dragged to hours and her hope dwindled.

Had she lost her? 031 couldn’t have lost her battle… not so soon! She’d heard the scientists talking about her before, she was promising! She couldn’t have lost now!

Even as she thought those things, the facts in front of her made it glaringly obvious.

031 was lost for good.

A drop of some sort of water fell down her face. Strange… it wasn’t even raining. Is this… was she crying?

She bit her lip, trying to focus on petting Snowy. She didn’t want him to have to worry about her too. But she had to accept it.

She was lost… 031 had lost… she-

‘Arf! Arf!’

She blinked as Snowy barked and leapt away from her and their shared rock. 024 followed him with her eyes, ruby gaze finding the one thing she wanted to see.

031. Stood right there. Alive. She hadn’t lost at all.

An overwhelming relief washed over her and she jumped to her feet to rush over, only to stop in front of her. Something wasn’t right.

Snowy was sat by her feet, whining as she moved her leg away when he nuzzled it. Her eyes downcast, her hair masking her expression and her arms holding herself across her chest, caused the worry to return.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, reaching out a hand, 031 flinching as she gently grasped her arm. 024 pulled back immediately, worried she’d done something wrong. She’d never minded that before…

031 slowly lifted her face so she could see. The expression there froze her solid. Why did she look so scared? Her mouth moved in an attempt to speak but nothing came out and her gaze found the floor again. Just what had happened?

Deciding to try a different approach, 024 carefully placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay now. I’m here.” She offered a hopefully comforting smile that thankfully seemed to melt her defenses. 031 slowly moved forward, arms shakily wrapping around 024’s body with her head coming to rest under her chin. 024 returned the gesture, her touch making her tense and hold onto her even tighter.

“I’ve got you.” She spoke softly into her hair, hoping to help her through whatever it is that had happened. Those words seem to ruin any last resolve to keep quiet and the words started spilling from her faster than the running water she could hear nearby sometimes.

What she heard would turn her blood cold if she had it.

They had hurt her. They’d physically hurt her. Something she could reach into her memories of one of the ones that lost to her and experience herself should she choose to.

024 held her tighter, desperate to offer any sort of comfort to her, but trying so hard not to induce anymore pain onto her. Those sensors seemed rather sensitive at the moment…

A part of her hoped she wasn’t intended to receive that upgrade as well. The other part of her hoped she did so she could understand what 031 had to go through just then.

She led her over to their rock and sat her down, allowing Snowy to offer his own comfort in the way of licking her face and encouraging barks with an optimistic tail wag. 031 smiled weakly at him with a small, quiet laugh as she embraced him with one arm and 024 with the over.

“Thanks pooch…” Snowy barked happily, glad to see her smile. 024 held them both against her, a small smile as the new sensors didn’t make her pull away. “Thanks…” She glanced down at her as that whisper of a word left her.

“What for?” She tilted her head as 031 got settled into her side.

“Waitin’.” The response would have sounded strange had she not know what it meant. Waiting for her when she didn’t show up and waiting with her now until they had to return to the lab.

“Thank you for waiting with me.” 031 tightened her grip at her words, she and Snowy shifting impossibly close to get comfortable. No more words needed to be said.

While 024 couldn’t protect her in the lab, she would protect her out here. Under the moon and stars, until she herself joined the lost.

Gazing up at the sky, she leaned back as she felt 031 start to doze off, something they’d both started to do the more they spent time together and a need that had grown rather quickly as a result. She didn’t feel that need just yet. Instead she kept watch making sure she slept undisturbed until the sound called out to them to return again.

Until then, she’d wait, holding 031 close while she rested and silently praying to anyone that would listen that they’d be able to stay like this for just a little longer…

[secondgenerationnerd]

Her Name is Mar’i

Author’s note: So after the last Ask where someone asked me to write a Dickkory Drabble, I very much fell in love with the idea of the Titans’ universe Dickkory having a baby Mar’i. This fic is testing the waters (and does not follow the end of season two at all because fuck that noise) to see how people like it. I tagged most of the characters in it even if they don’t necessarily speak. This is a Dick Kory Fic, just so everyone’s on the same page, and does not follow the cannon of my other stories. Enjoy and let me know if you’d like to see more of this cute family!

“Come on! They’ll be here any minute!” Garfield tosses Connor another streamer. The purple and gold decorations remind Hank, Dawn, and Donna think about Garth’s birthday. Somehow it doesn’t hurt as much. Rachel rolls her eyes as she and Rose read on the couch.

          “Really, Gar? It’s not like she’ll remember it.”

          “But we will, Rae.” Garfield’s ears twitch as the security system beeps.

          Dick and Kory walk down the hall, carrying precious cargo. Dick enters the code to the elevator. He glances at his girlfriend, smiling at her. She’s so beautiful he still wonders what she sees in him. Kory’s always alternating between sweet and sarcastic that he’s not sure what to believe when he asks. He does know how much he loves her. That part’s always been easy. The ride up is easy. He rests his hand on the middle of her back, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. They get out in the living room.

          “Hello?” Dick pokes his head around the corner to the kitchen.

          “Welcome home!” Everyone erupts. This doesn’t bode well for them as a piercing cry fills the room. Kory rolls her eyes and bounces the newborn in her arms.

          “Off to a great start I see.” Kory looks down at the fussing baby. She rocks side to side, and slowly the baby begins to calm down. She’s definitely got Kory’s coloring, with beautiful dark skin that makes her piercing green eyes stand out even more. But there’s a bit of her father in her features. Dawn and Donna immediately swoop in on their new niece, Hank just behind them acting leisurely about it.

          “She’s beautiful, Kory!” Dawn beams.

          “Thanks.” Kory smiles at her daughter.

          “What’s her name? I know you two were going back and forth on Earth and Tamaranean names.” Donna asks.

          “We settled on a name that has Tamaranean and Earth roots.” Kory looks at her boyfriend.

          “Mar’i. Our daughter’s name is Mar’i Grayson.”

          “No middle name?” Rachel asks, sneaking a peak at the baby. Mar’i gives a tiny yawn.

          “No. We thought that was enough. Especially since on Tamaran, her full title would be ‘her royal highness, Princess Mar’i, First of her name, Heir to the Throne.” Kory snorts. Mar’i stretches out, looking around. “You want to go to your daddy, Starshine? Let’s go see Daddy.”

          Kory hands the baby over to Dick. The former Boy Wonder can’t help the smile that spreads across his face as he looks down at his daughter. Mar’i gives another yawn, stretching out more. Dawn smiles, “Never thought I’d see Dick Grayson with a cute kid.”

          “She is pretty cute,” Hank offers a finger to the baby. Mar’i grabs it in her tiny fist. “Too cute to be related to you. You sure she’s yours, Grayson?”

          Before Dick or Kory can answer, Mar’i grunts and pulls on Hank’s finger. They all hear the loud pop and Hank swears, “Fuck! She just broke my finger!”

          His shouting scares Mar’i. She starts wailing, dark skin starting to glow. Kory takes the infant just before Mar’i’s body and hair catch fire. Kory shifts side to side trying to calm her. “There, there. You were just protecting Daddy’s honor, weren’t you? Already daddy’s little girl.”

          “She broke his finger.” Donna says slowly. “She’s currently on fire.”

          “She takes after her mother.” Dick shrugs. Mar’i sneezes, sending a ball of fire at the wall. “She also does that.”

          Donna and Dawn look at each other before bursting out laughing. Donna doubles over, “Look, we were thrilled when you said it was a girl. Because you have a lot of karma to pay for from your playboy days. This just makes it better.”

          Dick can’t help but laugh along. Kory manages to get Mar’i to calm down, rocking the baby to sleep. Garfield beams as he holds her. She even opens her eyes to see him. Raven and Rose decline for now, preferring to watch. Mar’i takes an instant liking to Dawn and Donna. Connor doesn’t even flinch when she sneezes a fireball at his face. Krypto licks her little feet, making her squeal. Even Hank gets over the injury and lets Mar’i sleep on his chest for a while.

          They hadn’t expected to have her in San Francisco. They’d been living in Bludhaven in his old apartment, but a team retreat brought them back. Kory thought she had more time. Mar’i had other ideas. Their beautiful healthy girl. The team reminisces on the couch about old times while Kory nurses Mar’i. Poor baby is so loved out by 7, that Dick and Kory retire to their room. They give her her first real bath at home. She hits the water with fascination. Kory watches as her boyfriend dress their baby. She’d teasingly tossed a pair of Robin themed pajamas at him, only for them to be ignored on the ground. He talks to Mar’i as he puts her diaper on, telling her about everything she looks at. He’s so gentle with his little girl as he holds her close. Kory sings her a lullaby.

          Mar’i sleeps in a travel bassinet while her parents get ready for bed. Dick spoons his girlfriend so they can both watch her. He presses a few kisses to the back of her neck. “What are you thinking about, princess?”

          “Just…I’m really happy. She’s got her whole life ahead of her. A life without anyone telling her that she has to be a certain thing for her entire identity. She can just…be Mar’i.” Kory smiles sadly. Dick holds her a little tighter.

          “You know it’s not that easy. She’s Bruce Wayne’s granddaughter. Sh—”

          “That doesn’t matter. She’s Mar’i before she’s anyone else. She can be anything she wants to be.”

          Dick smiles at that. “What do you think she’ll grow up to be like?”

          “Given that we’re her parents? She’s already doomed to being unbelievably stubborn. Probably very clever given her daddy.” Kory turns a bit to smile at her boyfriend. He tucks a bit of her hair behind her ear.

          “Her mom’s pretty smart too…”

          “Smart and clever are two different things.” Mar’i gives a tiny sneeze, a bit of fire jumping out from the bassinet. “She might be a hero. Or she might be a dancer. Or a police officer.”

          “Whatever she grows up to be, there’s one thing that I know she will be.”

          “Oh really? What’s that, Mr. Grayson.”

          “Loved, Ms. Anders. She’s going to be loved.”

          “Why do I love your cheesy ass?”

          “You tell me.” He kisses her gently. They fall asleep, knowing they’ll be woken up to their daughter’s cries for food in a few hours. If they’re honest, they can’t wait.

[snowbellewells]

“Over the Realms and Through the Woods, to Arendelle We Go”

A @cssecretsanta2k19​ gift for @xhookswenchx​

“Over the Realms and Through the Woods, to Arendelle We Go”

By: @snowbellewells​

This is my belated @cssecretsanta2k19​ gift for @xhookswenchx​ ~ and I truly am sorry for making you wait extra days, Lovely. It was such a busy December, then I traveled home, had family engagements, and so on.  But talking with you and learning different things about the show and the holidays that you enjoyed, put this idea in my head early. I just needed the time to write it down.  I have very much enjoyed being your Secret Santa.  I hope that your Christmas was Merry, that you will have a Happy and Blessed New Year. Please enjoy this story gift just for you!

Summary: Emma and Killian take their crew on a holiday road trip to visit old friends and make new Christmas memories…   A CS canon divergent in which the realms have been joined as they were in Season 7’s finale, but Henry has not left the Land Without Magic as he did in Season 7.  I always imagined him going out into the non-magical world for college, to write books, and so on (at least once it became clear they weren’t all going to make a permanent move back to the Enchanted Forest).  So for the purposes of this fic, he is home for the holidays from college, and Emma and Killian also have two little ones of their own. I used the daughter of my fictional invention, Morgan Ruth Jones, rather than Hope.  She’s appeared in some of my other fics, and I’m kinda attached to her.  I’ve gathered you enjoy original CS kids in your writing and reading as well, so I hope you won’t mind that liberty taken. I know that Westley Graham is not as completely original as I thought it was when I dreamed it up, but I love it too (especially since the show gave us so many Liams to keep track of already without naming a son of Emma and Killian’s Liam David as I once would have done).  Westley for the character in “Princess Bride” (‘As you wish’ makes that seem appropriate) and Graham for the hero they should have been naming baby boys after in canon.  You also said you really enjoyed the “Frozen” characters in 4a, so I have tried to incorporate them - and found it to be a fun new character writing stretch.  I truly do hope you will find this fun to read!

*************

“Papa, how much longer?” a tiny voice piped up from the backseat over Killian and Emma Jones’ shoulders with the wheedling tone only a four-year-old’s impatience could muster. “Are we almost there?”

Emma glanced over at her husband with bland exasperation and humor mixed together before swiveling in her seat as much as possible to look back at their daughter Morgan where she sat in her car seat behind Killian, idly alternating between swinging her feet and singing little nonsense songs she made up for herself, staring out the window at the changing scenery as they traveled from one united realm to another, heading ever steadily north toward Arendelle to visit Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, and Morgan’s best friend Sonja, Princess Anna and her husband’s little girl.

Henry, comfortably on his long winter break from his senior year at Boudoin College, had his nose buried in a detective whodunit, and though he was usually quite patient with his much-younger sister, he seemed to be craving some reading time to himself that Emma was willing to humor. She would like to keep them both fairly quiet so that Westley Graham, their youngest at just barely five months, didn’t wake up quite yet from where he was peacefully sleeping in his own backward-facing car seat between his two siblings and where Emma could reach him if needed.

Killian, for his part, chuckled indulgently, his sparkling blue gaze sliding back over to return Emma’s look before answering his little girl, seeming infinitely patient and making Emma love him even more all over again “We are getting closer, little Love,” he assured calmly. “You’ve been very good - and we should be there within the hour now.”

For a moment, Morgan merely nodded and hummed to herself in satisfaction as she watched the scenery pass by out the window. Once they had left Storybrooke behind, the buildings had given way to the forest, thicker and more wild as they had passed through the land of Emma’s birthright rule - the Enchanted Forest. Since then, the forest had thinned out, and slowly the flatter land became foothills, which then turned into snow capped mountains - something which really did seem to almost sparkle before their eyes - not to mention the imaginative view of a toddler. But it wasn’t long before she piped up again, still obviously a bit impatient and unable to hold it in. “Papa? Can you sing a song? … Please?”

Emma snort-laughed at the way her husband’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, not expecting that particular request if his expression could be any indication. Shaking his head, he admitted defeat rather easily for a once-fearsome pirate of the Seven Seas, especially when she playfully jostled his shoulder, egging Morgan on and adding the she would like to hear him as well.

It wasn’t long before Killian’s clear, strong voice was ringing out within the walls of their newer smallish SUV, having left the Bug at home in favorite of more passenger leg room and space for the wealth of presents they were bringing along, both from their immediate family and her parents and other Storybrooke folks who had come to know the Arendellian visitors when they were in the Land Without Magic some years back. The tune her pirate had selected was a rollicking sea shanty - one of their daughter’s favorites - that he and his crew had once sung on the Jolly Roger many years ago as they circled the waters of Neverland endlessly. His song and its playful, raucous melody seemed practically bouncing around the interior of the vehicle, swaying with the rolling buoyancy of its rhythm and pulling Henry from his reading to grin at the song he had heard countless times before. Thankfully Westley didn’t seem in the least disturbed, sleeping right through the impromptu serenade, and Morgan was giggling and clapping her little hands along with her papa’s song. Emma soon found herself singing along as well, watching her family in their joyous uproar, and marveling at the reality that this was the sort of cozy Christmas journey she could have now.

Killian seemed so into his song, and his children’s entertainment, that Emma couldn’t help checking to be certain he was still paying attention to the road ahead. It hadn’t really been until the last couple of years that Killian had begun to take over some driving duties for them on longer trips; having learned to drive capably well before that, but never fully becoming comfortable with - or trusting - their “horseless death traps”, as he often called them. Modern automobiles still seemed smoky, loud, and entirely too unpredictable to a person long used to ships on the sea or riding horseback and in carriages - not to mention one whose first experience with them had been being run down on the road and seriously injured.

All the same, he shot her a look of exaggerated affront as he finished singing, waggling those wildly expressive eyebrows of his at her and pressing his hooked arm to his chest in further drama. “Honestly, Wife? Don’t you trust me more than that by now?” Taking his hook from where it covered his heart, he gestured out the window to indicate the lane beside them. “I may not be as old a hand at driving as most, but I won’t drive us under a semi trailer like that Griswold fellow on the magic box.”

It was Henry who snorted his laughter then, at the reference to National Lampoon’s which they had watched the night before, prior to setting off on their journey. Shaking his head at his stepdad’s odd way of reassuring him, and humored in spite of himself, Henry placed a marker in his book and more fully joined their antics, now that they were drawing nearer to their friend’s kingdom anyway. Danger and adventure, or just taking a family trip; be it Christmas or some random everyday in between, there was never a dull moment with their little crew.

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

When they entered the Arendelle borders and pulled up to the palace’s front gates, within 45 minutes’ time just as Killian had promised Morgan, the sense of awed anticipation settled over all of them, the air inside the car going quiet at the stunning beauty that met their eyes. Somewhere within the last half hour or so, light flurries of snow had begun to fall around them, looping and twirling through the slowly purpling sky as afternoon inched closer to evening. The ground had already been covered in a picturesque light dusting of white, but it was growing deeper as the additional fluffy flakes continued.

Thankfully, ice didn’t seem to be a part of this particular snowy scene; the roads had remained safely passable and they had made good time. Four uniformed guards two on either side of the wide, silvery sparkling arch and gates of the front entrance to the Queen’s castle and grounds, bowed respectfully as the passageway opened for them. Emma had spoken to her dear friend via magic mirror that morning before they set out, and their arrival had clearly been anticipated.

Despite having been there several times before by that point, all over them sat in openmouthed adoration that overcame them for a few breathless instants. The setting sun hit the gate and front of the castle, sending glitter and sparks of light out to dazzle their eyes. It was as if the whole structure were indeed beautifully coated in ice - and yet there was none of the frigid austerity one might once have feared. Queen Elsa of Arendelle has long since found her equilibrium, allowing her the self-acceptance and open understanding to balance the cold with genuine warmth. She learned to love every part of herself - including her powers - just as she had once helped Emma to do, and as Killian had reminded her ever since.

Their vehicle had barely parked, and they were just stepping out and stretching their tired limbs when they heard familiar voices calling their names, a childish squeal of delight yelping Morgan’s in particular, the sound of several pairs of feet hurrying over freshly fallen snow (well, feet and one set of reindeer hooves) and then they were engulfed in a flurry of hugs and handshakes by the royal family themselves. Anna was predictably firing questions at them as quickly as she could voice them, about their trips, the rest of their family, Belle and the library, without even allowing them time to answer. Kristoff was shaking Killian’s hand and accepting baggage and gift wrapped boxes to lead them inside. Sven snuffled around Henry’s pockets and Morgan’s hair seeking out carrots and other treats as well as providing his own animal greeting. But through the melee, Elsa pressed through to wrap Emma in a fiercely tight hug for several long moments. When she did pull back, it was with a watery smile and unshed tears in her eyes to match those which started in Emma’s.

“I’m so glad all of you have come,” she stated fervently, that sweet, melodious voice trembling with sincerity beyond its usual poise. “Come in, come in.  We’ll get you warm and settled, then we can get caught up.”

Emma nodded, pressing the queen’s hand tightly in her own, before turning to grab more luggage and unfasten Westley from his car seat to do as Elsa suggested.

“Let me help you,” her friend offered, holding out her arms to take the still-sleepy child so Emma could reach the suitcase behind. “May I?”

Emma didn’t hesitate for even a second, easily passing her just-barely-stirring-to-wakefulness infant into her friend’s arms, moving her hand gently so Elsa could cradle Westley’s head and crooning lowly to him until he settled again, rooting deeper into the young queen’s arms as a pleased and rosy smile pinked her cheeks.

Throwing a surreptitious glance over to Killian, only to find him watching her with a comforting smile that already knew where her mind had gone and wished he could undo the old hurt, Emma shook her head to clear the memory as best she could and send her husband a small grin as reassurance that she would be fine. As much as she had tried to banish the moment from her mind, and as much as the sharpest stinging slap of betrayal had faded, Emma still saw her own mother pulling little Neal away from her, protectively fearing her magic and not letting Emma hold her younger brother. Intellectually, Emma knew her mother loved her, magic or no, realized that the knee-jerk reaction had not been aimed to hurt her… and yet… it had.

Watching Elsa as various emotions flitted across her face while cradling her friend’s youngest in her arms, gazing down at the drowsy babe adoringly, Emma knew Elsa had felt that same fear and suspicion she had, and that perhaps Elsa had almost resignedly expected her request to be denied, knew that parental protectiveness all too well, and had been thrilled when she was granted trust instead.

Little Westley Graham did nothing more than flutter his eyelids briefly without fully rousing and gave a slight coo of contentment as the Queen bowed her head to press a light kiss to the top of his downy, sandy-colored hair. “Come on then everyone,” she suggested cheerfully, looking as merry and confident as they had ever seen her and leaving Emma blessedly assured of her friend’s happiness.  “There’s hot chocolate with plenty of marshmallows in the large sitting room.”

She led the way, with Killian, Henry, and Kristoff bringing up the rear to make sure no overexcited little girls, snowmen, or reindeer were left behind. It didn’t take long to find their luggage placed in their rooms, their coats and snow boots shucked off, and all of them seated comfortably scattered around the large open room full of soft chairs and sofas, a roaring fire in the hearth at one end, and plates of toast and jam, cookies, doughnuts, scones and a whole pot of rich hot chocolate with marshmallows set out for the taking.

Conversation hummed warmly throughout the room as the kids played; Henry showing Olaf, Sonja, and his little sister how to make a chain of snow angels for the tree while the four adults caught up on all that had happened since they were last together. Westley had woken up, but to everyone’s surprise, the little boy had not cried or fussed for his mother, and so Elsa still held him gladly. His guileless blue eyes, the mirrored hue of his pirate father’s, blinked up at her curiously, looked more enthralled that concerned by the less familiar person holding him. One pudgy little hand unclenched to reach up toward her almost startlingly white braid and wrapped around the end of it, tugging gently with his tiny fist, and burbling happily as he did.

Elsa practically giggled, a musical, enchanting sound that the rest of them had rarely heard, and a light carefree look graced her face beautifully. “You really are quite a sweetheart, aren’t you?” she whispered to the little one softly.

She did eventually hand Westley back to Emma when he began to wiggle and wanted to eat. Once Emma returned with him after his feeding, she found the Queen of Arendelle seated cross-legged on the floor with Morgan and her niece watching wide-eyed beside her as Elsa effortlessly shaped and reshaped whorls and twists of ice into glittering ornaments she handed them to place on a tree they had left bare for that very entertainment. The girls let out little ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ of excitement and surprise with each shape that seemed to bloom from Elsa’s hands into thin air. Each new creation brough exclamations of delight, and the two children then ran to their papas at the tree to lift them up to place them high on the branches, then hurried back to see what ‘Auntie Elsa’ would create next.

As the decorating eventually wound down, the two little whirlwinds huffing and puffing from all their trips back and forth over the length of the room, and Elsa lightly chuckling at their theatrics, Killian came to sit near them as well, gathering Morgan into his lap and nodding encouraging at Sonja until she scooted up close to his side as well. Soon he was telling them a story of the first time he saw snow fall at sea as a young lad. He remembered how it looked trailing down to rest on nearly frozen arctic water, where their captain had unwisely taken them too far north for the season.

He was relating how his older brother Liam had distracted him by encouraging his wonder at the beauty of the sight. Killian himself had not realized until much later - a similar instance on his own ship facing the very real danger of ice floes in the water and the precarious travel a ship must make in the depths of winter driving the memory home - just how much danger they had been in that night as he had simply marveled at what seemed to his young mind cold falling stars of sparkling light. “He said each one was unique - no other could exactly take the place of the one before. Like people, Liam said they were…” Killian nearly whispered this last over the sudden lump in his throat, seemingly lost in another time and place. Emma reached out a hand to rest upon his knee, and he came back to them with a bit of a start, the faroff gaze clearing from his eyes.  “Like us even,” he added. “We might have been expendable slaves to most - but we mattered, at least to each other, and he always made sure I knew that.”

Both of their daughters had drifted off to sleep by then; the excitement of the day overtaking them once they had settled in to listen to Killian’s quiet, lilting voice. Kristoff came to lift Sonja from Killian’s side to carry her to her room, wishing the rest of them goodnight. Anna followed with a contented wave as Sven trailed behind, headed outside to his barn to bed down for the night.

Queen Elsa’s gaze remained on Killian, though the story had finished. There was a melancholy, almost wistful, look within her light eyes as she seemed to consider the story yet.  “He sounds like the best sort of big brother,” she finally said to Killian softly, and gentle and a bit sad smile curving her lips. “I wish I could have met him….” This last was said almost hesitantly, as if she herself did not quite know why it had slipped out, and yet she nodded determinedly after, as if confirming the sentiment.

“I wish you could have met him too, Milady,” Killian answered fervently, his voice a bit hoarse and husky with the regret and pain of still missing his elder sibling, even after ages had passed. “Maybe it’s just something about the way a younger sibling sees a beloved older one, but at times I can see  something of Liam in you.”

Elsa smiled once more, gratefully accepting what for Killian must be the highest compliment he could give someone. The three of them settled into a sort of peaceful remembrance of those no longer with them - bittersweet but not unpleasant, as they were reminiscing of good times and not just their loss - before she rose as well to retire for the night.

Her exit left Emma and Killian seated cozily before the fire together, one last mug of hot chocolate in each of their hands and the silent beauty of the room around them, still decked out for Christmas, and snow still falling outside, weaving a lovely spell.  Tilting her head up, Emma found Killian’s lips waiting to capture hers tenderly, sipping from them as if they were even more delicious than the chocolate and twice as precious. “I love you, my Darling,” he murmured against her cheek as his kisses trailed back to the spot behind her ear that made her melt on the spot. 

Practically keening back that she loved him too, Emma held her husband even tighter, wanting nothing else she could possibly imagine in that moment. As she gazed into Killian’s blue, blue eyes she could see the future of them, and their family, together, and she knew the coming year would be their best one yet.

Tagging: @cssecretsanta2k19​ @xhookswenchx​ @searchingwardrobes​ @kmomof4​ @jennjenn615​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @thisonesatellite​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @revanmeetra87​ @teamhook​ @hollyethecurious​@winterbaby89​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @hollyethecurious​ @gingerchangeling​ @spartanguard​ @lfh1226-linda​

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: This isn’t a rom-com 16/17

Author’s notes: we coming closer to the end and I already have plans for a sequel, but still not sure which ending I’m going for!

Summary: Keanu and Lilah meet at the set of John Wick. Rom-com shenanigans ensues

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Wordcount: 2977

Warnings: just a lot of fluff

Keanu couldn’t remember the last time he had to do this, meet a girlfriend's family. Then again, it had been quite a while since he’d been with someone long enough to consider them a girlfriend. But if jumping on a plane like a mad man so he could be with Lilah in her time of need didn’t make her Keanu's girlfriend; if it didn’t show exactly how serious this thing between them had become, Keanu didn’t know what else could.

That was why his heart was beating wildly and his hands felt clammy as Lilah led him into the waiting room for the surgical center. Keanu was thankful that he had the forethought of taking a few moments at the airport to freshen up and change clothes. The last thing he needed was to meet Lilah's parents smelling like he had spent almost 20 hours inside airplanes.

When they walked into the room, three people turned to look, and Keanu tried to swallow around the lump of anxiety on his throat. He spotted Lilah's mother right away. She was an older version of her daughter, with only a few subtle differences. Her was eyes were a shade darker, but they have the same warmth that Lilah’s had, even though they were watching Keanu with curiosity and confusion.

“Mom,” Lilah started, her voice trembling slightly, and Keanu was only a little relieved to see that he wasn’t the only one nervous. “I’d like you to me Keanu. My, uh... boyfriend.” Her mother’s eyes widen a little as she glanced back to Keanu. “Keanu, this is my mom, Alba.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bennett,” Keanu said, discreetly drying his palm on his jeans before shaking her hands. “I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Nice to meet you too, Keanu,” she replied her voice carrying the same melodic accent Lilah sometimes let it slip, but Alba’s was much more prominent.

“This is Susan, Jamie’s mom,” Lilah introduced the gesturing to the blonde woman sitting next to Alba. She nodded at Keanu with wide eyes and he nodded back, fighting off the awkwardness he felt under their scrutiny.

Lilah took a seat at her mom’s side and Keanu sat next to her, trying to ignore the way Susan kept sneaking glances at him. He wondered if his age or his career caught her attention the most. Probably both.

He glanced sideways at Lilah, at the way she was twisting her hands together, knee bouncing nervously. Keanu took one of her hands in his, squeezing slightly and she looked over at him and smiled.

She looked exhausted, face pale and dark circles under her eyes and he wondered for how long she had been up? Probably as long as he had been. He shifted on the ratty couch, bringing an arm around her shoulders and Lilah cuddled closer to his side, resting her cheek against his chest. He caressed her arm softly, humming a little under his breath because he knew it relaxed her and after a few minutes, he felt her breath evening out and knew Lilah had fallen asleep.

“She really needed that,” Mrs. Bennett said in a low voice, startling Keanu. “Rest.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking down at the sleeping woman in his arms and couldn’t help the small smile. “She can be a little stubborn sometimes.”

“She thinks she can’t show weakness,” she said, her expression softening as she watched Lilah too. “She gets that from her father, unfortunately. It was nice of you to be here for her. Thank you.”

Keanu just nodded, startling a little when the doors for the OR opened and a man in surgical gown stepped out. He was as tall as Keanu, his hair more gray than black, his blue eyes sharp and intense. Everyone stood up when he walked in so Keanu nudged Lilah gently to wake her.

“He’s in ICU, but it’s looking good,” the man said, his smile bright and relieved. “He’s still under sedation and can’t have visitors just yet, but he should be ok.” There was a collective sigh of relief as they all hug each other.

Keanu noticed the exact moment that the man spotted him, catching the way Lilah was still pressed against him, slowly returning to consciousness. His expression shifted, eyes narrowing and expression turning stormy. Keanu realized that he wasn’t just a doctor, he was Lilah’s father.

“And who are you?”

Keanu didn’t know exactly if it was his voice or his tone that made Lilah snap to attention, back straight like someone just rammed a rod up her spine. She stood up and Keanu could almost see her bracing herself for conflict.

“Dad, this is Keanu,” she said her voice much steadier than when she spoke with her mom. “My boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” He repeated, frown deepening into a scowl, his face turning reddish. “Boyfriend?”

“Frank,” Alba whispered, laying a hand on her husband's shoulder. “This isn’t the time or place.” Keanu saw how Frank’s eyes seemed to flash in barely contained anger, but he nodded, looking away from Lilah and Keanu.

“I’m staying to keep an eye on him, but you all should go home. Tomorrow he should be up for visits.”

Keanu saw Frank sharing a quick look with Alba before he went back through the doors, no goodbyes, no other words. He glanced at Lilah and she had her lips pressed together in a tight, tense line, her shoulders hunched, her eyes downcast and Keanu realized that she was fighting the urge to cry. He considered pulling her into his arms. All he wanted was to protect her at all costs, even from her father but something told him it wouldn’t be appreciated. Not right now anyway.

Susan was the first to go, and while Alba made a quick visit to the restroom, Keanu turned to Lilah. Some of the tension on her expression had eased a little but it was still there.

“I should find a hotel to stay the night,” he said, pulling out his phone, which he had finally charged at the airport. His screen showed several missed messages and calls, all of which Keanu flicked away. He would deal with all of this later.

“You’re staying with us, babe,” Lilah said making him look up in surprise.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea considering…” he glanced at the doors her father had disappeared into and she nodded, the hard glint on her eyes was the same he had seen in Frank’s.

“I don’t care. You’re staying with us. He’s gonna have to deal with it.”

“Ok,” he sighed in resignation. The last thing he wanted was to get into a pissing contest with Lilah’s dad, but he didn’t want to upset her either.

Keanu followed the two Bennett women to the parking lot outside and he should’ve known his presence wouldn’t go unnoticed in the hospital because there were a couple of photographers outside, camera flashes blinding as they put their carry-ons in the truck and drove off. He needed to give his publicist a heads up when he got to Bennett’s house.

The drive was made in a strange silence, not exactly awkward, but not comfortable either, but fortunately, it was a short one and soon enough they were pulling into the driveway of a large two-store house with a gorgeous front garden. Alba led the way inside, dropping her keys on the side table by the door, before turning to Lilah and Keanu.

“I’ll get the guest room ready,” she announced, already taking a step towards the stairs.

“Mom, Keanu’s staying with me. In my room,” Lilah replied, and Keanu had to fight off the urge to wince. Especially at the way Alba’s eyebrows raised a little as she looked from her daughter to Keanu.

“Honey…” she trailed off as she caught her daughter’s stubborn frown. “Alright.”

Lilah just nodded, turning to Keanu and gesturing him to follow as she went up the stairs and into one of the rooms, flickering the lights on. He stood at the doorway, looking around because this was the room she grew up in.

He took in the dark blue walls a sharp contrast with the white furniture. The shelves were overflowing with books, DVDs, a couple of stuffed animals and other trinkets, but there were also several medals and trophies. There were a desk and chair to the side, with a bulletin board filled with yellowing pictures. By the window a worn-out armchair and floor lamp and Keanu could almost see a teen Lilah curling up in that seat, legs tucked under her as she read one of her novels. He could see in the walls the stains of glue at some spots, so he knew there must have been several posters around the walls too, making him wonder what they were.

“You can put your suitcase wherever you want,” she said bringing him back from his reveries. “Bathroom’s through there if you wanna take a shower,” Lilah said, turning to look at him and for the first time since they had to do the whole song and dance of introducing Keanu, her expression had softened and didn’t look like she was getting ready to face a battle. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“And I’ll always be,” he assured, kissing her nose to make her giggle in that way that he loved. “I’m sorry for all the problems I caused though.” Keanu almost regretted saying it by the way her smile fell and she looked away from him.

“That’s not on you. He’s just so…” she let out a frustrated huff. “He still treats me like I’m 9 instead of 29.”

“He’s your dad, Lil,” Keanu said, brushing her cheek and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “It’s understandable that he’s protective of you.”

“It’s still annoying,” Lilah complained sighing and stepping away from. Keanu could see the exhaustion into her expression again and he nudged her towards the bathroom. “You go first.”

“You could always join me,” she said wiggling her eyebrows and Keanu chuckled.

“One: we both too tired for that,” he pointed out and Lilah laughed as she began to undress. “And two: there is absolutely no situation in which I’d agree to have sex in your parents’ house.”

“You’re sure?” she asked, standing in front of him completely naked and Keanu felt his body hot with desire, especially at the sight of the bite mark on her shoulder and the fading bruises on her hips.

“I’m sure,” he said, turning away from her. “Go shower, Lil.”

“You know I like a challenge, right?” she said, pressing her body against his back and Keanu let out a long shuddering breath, especially when she kissed his neck.

A moment later, she was moving away from him and he only turned around again when he heard the door closing. Keanu let out a long sigh. She was going to be the death of him for sure.

He took the time to go through his suitcase searching for something to put on after his shower. He was dangerously close to running out of clean clothes. After a second of consideration, he moved to the bathroom door.

“Can I use your laundry?” he asked.

“What?” Lilah shouted back over the noise of the water. With an eye-roll, Keanu pushed the door open, peeking his head inside.

“Can I use your laundry?”

“Sure. Downstairs, down the corridor, the kitchen’s through the left, laundry is right next to it.”

“Thanks.”

Keanu gathered his dirty clothes on his arms, following the path Lilah described him and indeed finding the laundry through a door next to the kitchen. He dumped his load on the machine and went through the process of getting the circle ready.

When he stepped back into the kitchen, he was startled to see Alba standing by the stove, watching the kettle almost as if completely lost in thought. She looked over when she noticed Keanu standing there.

“Lilah said it was ok to use the machine,” he explained, gesturing at the laundry. Was he always this awkward around parents? Alba just nodded, glancing back at the kettle that had just started whistling.

“I’m just making myself some tea. Would you like some?”

“Sure,” Keanu nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table. A moment later, she brought over two cups and he smiled at the familiar smell of cinnamon.

“It’s her favorite,” he commented, nodding his thanks and Alba smiled.

“Mine too.”

They sat in silence, each nursing their cup and Keanu tried to ignore the way she kept sneaking glances at him, but every once in a while he unintentionally caught her eye, her gaze uncertain, curious. She would look away with a small huff.

“I’m sorry, it’s just very strange to have you sitting here in my kitchen,” Alba finally said, and Keanu just met her gaze with a questioning look. “I was used to see you on her computer and on the posters on her wall.”

“She had posters?” he asked with a grin and Alba chuckled and nodded.

“From that movie with all the green and the computers.”

“The Matrix,” Keanu said with a chuckle of his own.

“Yes. That’s the one. It’s one of her favorites,” Alba said, and he nodded. That he had figured already. “I wish she would’ve at least told me she was seeing someone.”

“To be fair, it’s kinda new,” Keanu explained with a sheepish smile. “We were both a bit clueless at first, but I really care for your daughter, Mrs. Bennett.”

“I know,” she said with a warm smile that immediately settled Keanu’s nerves. “And I think it’s a bit more than care.” She gave him a knowing look and he chuckled again, duckling his head because he knew he was blushing. “As long as she’s happy, I’m ok with this.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you two talking about me?” Lilah asked, padding barefoot into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around her mom’s neck and Keanu smiled. They could pass off as sisters instead of mother and daughter.

“Yes. I was about to bring out the baby pictures,” Alba said, and Lilah’s eyes went comically wide.

“No! Absolutely not!” Lilah said, shaking her head and Keanu grinned slyly.

“Now I wanna see it. I bet you were an adorable kid.”

“The cutest!” Alba cooed, looking up at her daughter with a soft smile. “Chubby cheeks and untamable hair. Always reaching for the camera.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, but there was a fond smile playing on the corner of her lips. She stepped back as Alba got up, bringing her cup to the sink.

“You two don’t stay up too late,” she said, kissing her daughter’s cheek and whispering something in Portuguese to Lilah that made her laugh. “Good night.”

“What was that about?” Keanu asked after Alba moved away and Lilah sat on his lap.

“She said the long hair suits you. She’s not a fan of the beard, though,” Lilah explained with a giggle and Keanu laughed. “Don’t worry. I like the beard.” She winked.

“I know,” he replied with a smirk, rubbing his cheek against her neck and making Lilah squeak and giggle. He was glad to see she had finally managed to relax some more now that she knew her brother would be ok. “I’m gonna take that shower.”

After his shower, dressed in a clean pair of sweatpants and shirt, Keanu went through the task of returning messages and calls, making sure everyone knew where he was and why. Chad and Dave were very understanding of the entire thing, but he would need to be back by Monday, or they would be behind schedule. His publicist was none too happy with the fact that she would have to deal with paparazzi photos of him, but it was too late now. That genie was out of the bottle.

He was at the end of his call with Kim when Lilah finally came back, crawling in bed with him and Keanu spread his arm so she could cuddle against his side like he knew she was fond of. It was almost and automatic motion by now.

“I switched your clothes to the dryer,” she said, and Keanu winced. He had completely forgotten about laundry.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Lilah shrugged and yawning and tilting her head up to look at him. “Are you gonna get any heat from your people because of those photos outside the hospital?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he assured, kissing her forehead in reassurance and brushing her cheek and jaw. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“I know,” she sighed, bringing his thumb into her mouth and Keanu gave her a warning look. “I just don’t want you to get any backslash from studios or fans for dating me. Besides, I wouldn’t really mind being on the background.”

“I mind,” Keanu replied, leaning closer for a kiss. “You’re my girlfriend and not some dirty little secret. Studios and fans gonna have to deal with it if they don’t like it.” Lilah flashed him a pleased little smile and cuddled close to him. “Let’s get some sleep. It has been a long twenty-four hours.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, settling against him and whispering something against his chest. The words were familiar, even if he didn’t understand her. It was the same thing she had drunkenly mumbled on the cab that first time they slept together.

“I don’t know what that means,” Keanu said with a frown, looking down at Lilah. She looked up again and he could see the hesitation in her face, in the way she bit her lip.

“It means I love you,” Lilah finally said with a small, shy smile. Keanu grinned, his chest warm and bent down to kiss her.

“I love you too.”

x(tbc)x

go to part 17

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[writingkeepsmewhole]

Traveling

This is part 7 of The Cowboy and The Girl. It’s also day 15 of 365 days of fics.

Fic Summary: Trish tells Ellie a bit about herself. (this is kinda a filler part)

Joel Miller X OC Trish

Warnings: None?

I would love tag you: @amandamaesweetheart @jodiereedus22 @el-dibidibidorado1 @yourgirltaz

Part 1   Part 6

I wake up to the sounds of bodies shuffling around. Opening my eyes I see Ellie packing up her things. Joel was nowhere in sight. I was lying on his bed, so he couldn’t have been too far.

A yearn leaves my mouth as I sit up, Ellie turning around to face me.

“Hey.” She says smiling at me.

“Hi.”I say returning her smile.

I moved over to my bed and start packing my things.

“Can I ask you something?” She asks.

“Sure.” I answer trying to wake up.

“Are you can Joel a thing?”

“A thing?”

“Yeah like are you two together?”

“No.” I answer honestly.

“Then why were you sleeping over there?” She asks pointing to Joel’s stuff.

“I just fell asleep talking to him is all.”

“Really? I mean you can tell me the truth, I’m not an idiot.”

“I didn’t say you were. I did tell you the truth me and Joel are friends.”

“So nothing as ever happened between you.”

I didn’t get a chance to answer, Joel climbing up the ladder and joining us.

“Good morning.” I say wondering if he was still mad at me from our fight.

“Morin’.” He replied his southern accent thick telling me he just woke up his own self.

I smile hearing it. That one word telling me that he was talking to me again, which was good. Maybe it was because he always seemed to have my back since I met him, I could never stand if I thought he was mad at me. It always bothered me too much.

“Y’all about ready?” He asks packing up his own stuff.

“Yeah, we should eat before we head out.” I say earning a nod.

“Ellie you still got them peaches?”

“Oh yeah, here.” She says digging two cans out and rolling one to me across the floor.

“Man I miss real food.” I say as I crack open the can.

“Could you really just go into a store and buy whatever you wanted to eat?” Ellie asks reminding me that she was born into this world she didn’t know any different.

“As long as you had the money yeah.” I say digging out a slimy peach slices and eating it.

“It’s not so much whatever you want that I miss. It’s fresh meat, that protein bar crap the government feeds us just ain’t the same.”

“We could go huntin’.” Joel says moving to sit next to me.

“Yeah, but when?” I ask handing him the can already eating half of it.

“Not like we got deer running around here.”

“Infected would kill them if they did.”

“Exactly.”

“Wait you guys know how to hunt animals, like wild animals?”

“Yeah, it’s not that hard we could teach you.”

“You gonna do that along with the swimming lessons?” Joel asks looking down at me.

“Be nice.” I say shoving him with my shoulder.

I see him crack half a smile it quickly disappearing out of the corner of my eye.

“Would you really do that? If we have time I mean?”

“Kid I plan on getting a car and dropping you off so don’t be gettin’ your hopes up.” Joel says lifting the can up and drinking the juice out of it.

“Right.” She says sighing her face dropping.

“We’ll see. If he doesn't want to I will, I practically taught him anyways.”

“When I found you you were eating berries and nuts.” He says pushing himself up from the floor.

“Yeah, because they were everywhere I may not be smart but I ain’t dumb.” I say standing up as well.

“Umph.” He says picking up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.

I smile at the way he ends the conversation picking up my bag.

“Let’s go, we got a long walk ahead.” Joel says looking at Ellie then moving towards the ladder.

“Come on lets go burn some calories we don’t have.”

“What are calories?” She asks making me shake my head.

After hours of walking my feet were starting to hurt.

“Joel I thought you said it was only a few miles.”

“It is.” he says as we walk down an empty street.

“It’s more than a few, it only takes a person half an hour to walk a mile been walking for like three hours.” I whine mainly out of boredom the other part because I wanted to sit down.

“Can we stop and look for food or something?”

“Will you just shut up?” He asks looking at me over his shoulder.

“I will if you let take a break.”

“No, were almost there.”

“You don’t know to be a dick Joel.” Ellie says making him stop.

“Fine… Five minutes.” He says walking to an abandoned car.

“Thank you.” I say following him.

“Yeah.” he says opening the front door and sitting inside.

I move to sit in the passenger seat the door torn off a and nowhere in sight.

“I bet you guys used to drive all the time huh?” Ellie asks getting in the back seat.

“No, I was your age when the virus broke out. I didn’t drive. I wasn’t aloud to.”

“Do you know how?”

“Yeah, Joel taught me.” I say looking over at him.

He was staring out the windshield and sipping at his canteen.

“She about killed us to.”

“I did not, I just couldn’t figure out the brake part out.”

“You gently push it down not step on it.”

“I know that...now.” I say smiling at him when he glares at me.

Reaching over I patted his cheek. “You love me.”

“I tolerate you.”

I stick my tongue out at him knowing he was just saying that.

“Alright let’s go.” he says standing back up.

“If I must.” I say doing the same us once again walking down the road.

When we finally reached the town we walked through the twists and turns of it reaching a blocked off path by a fence and a semi truck.

“Give me a boost.” I say walking up to it.

Joel turns his back to it and squats down, locking his fingers together so I can use it as a step. Placing my foot into his hand I stand up as best I can on it Joel throwing me the rest of the way.

“Owe.” I say when my stomach smacks the side of the truck.

Ignoring the pain I crawl on top of it, barely noticing the lounge chair next to me. I laid down on my stomach and offer my hand down, as Joel helps Ellie up.

I pull her up next to me then the both of us helo Joel.

“Your getting fat.” I groan out as I pull him up.

“Yeah I bet.” He says standing up next to me.

“Hey… Look at that.” He says looking at the chair.

I follow his line of sight to see he is talking about the bow and quiver of arrows sitting there.

“Well looks like it’s our lucky day.”

“Hey let me use that, I’m a pretty good shot with one of those.”

“How ‘bout we just leave this kinda stuff to the grown ups.” He says putting it around him along with the arrows.

“Well, we could all be armed. Cover each other.”

“She has a point.” I say agreeing with her.

If she could fight why not let her.

“I don’t think so.” Joel says moving to walk across the wooden plant connected the simi to the nearby roof.

He climbs up the ladder as we follow him.

“So who are we going to meet?” She asks as we walk.

“He’s names Bill and he’s...interesting.” I say trying to think on how to explain him nicely.

“Interesting?”

“He’s a paranoid bastard.” Joel says making me snort.

“That.” I say chuckling a bit.

“Oh.” Ellie smiling.

“So is Bill any good with a bow?”

“I reckon he is.” Joel answers.

“What about you?” She asks looking at me.

“I’m okay, Joel’s better.”

“He teach you that too?”

“He did.”

“How long have you know him?”

“A long time, I bounced from group to group, then was on my own for a long time.” I say as we climb down the ladder.

“I don’t really remember not having to fight to live, but Joel made that easier because he taught me how.”

“So how did you survive without him?”

“She’s a damn good theft.”

“Aww thank you.” I smile at his complement.

He walks to the side of the roof we were on and jumps down. I follow behind him, him standing on the ground six feet below me.

“Come on, I gotcha.” He says holding out his arms.

I smile at him and sit on the ledge to drop down into them. He catches me it making my shirt ride up, his clasused hands gripping my sides.

I blush at the rush his touch gives me, him setting me down then turning to catch Ellie.

“So you stole stuff?” She asks once we were on the ground.

“Yeah, I’m just good at being sneaky. I’m better at throwing a knife at someone then shooting them in the head with a gun. I got weird about noise after the outbreak.”

“Was it really loud?”

“It was a nightmare.” I say memories coming back to me.

My mind going to one of the first memories I had of the end of life as I knew it. The military rounded everyone up and put us in shipping containers on the docks. It was easier to protect for them. But it wasn’t, infected always seemed to get in. People would sneak out and come back with bites. But that wasn’t the worst part. It all got worse when the food was cut off, everything turned into a another war zone. People started eating each other. First it was the ones who died, then it was whoever didn’t sleep with their eyes open. It was chaos and I was alone.