#but this just sucks man. what the hell. why??? fucking suspending licenses?? not even just banning changes but existing licenses??

[vamptastic]

yeahhh i need to find out if that post is actually true (ppl like to post about stuff thats still in the process of being passed as if it's already through on here) but if it is. bye bye learning to drive :(

[onionsaremeansstuff]

Would you write a michael (john) smut story were the reader is his soulmate and some random guy is flirting with him. also michael gets possessive with the reader which causes them to have sex

hey! Thanks for the request ! Michael is one of my favorite characters in supernatural so i really liked you request ! I’m not the best smut writer but I tried, hope you like it!

Pairing: Michael!John x reader

Gender: Male

Warnings: Smut

I dont own the character or the gif

"Y/N! Stop!" A deep, booming voice ordered which caused you to stop. 

You didn't need to turn around to know who it was that ordered you to stop. 

It was the archangel, Michael. 

A few weeks ago, Chuck had decided to release Michael from the cage, as well as giving Adam his body back and Michael was using young John Winchester's body as a vessel. 

You had never met the archangel before and honestly, you never wanted to meet him. But, since you lived with the Winchesters, meeting him was bound to happen eventually. 

When you first met the Archangel, he only stared at you like he was seeing through you and claimed that you were special. 

Apparently you were some kind of powerhouse that Chuck created for Michael. 

As long as you are living, Michael gets stronger, especially when he's around you. 

When he first claimed that you were special, you scoffed and told him to go fuck himself and leave you alone. But, that didn't stop the prince of Heaven from doing what he wanted. 

He always came to the bunker to check on you. And you asked why he cares about you so much. 

"I don't care about you, I only care about what you can do, little human." He told you.

He made it very clear why he came to check up on you and this time wasn't any different. 

He also liked to order you around. 

"It's already 3 AM, Y/N. You humans need your sleep. Go to bed now and that's an order!" 

You looked at him tiredly and was about to say something back to him when you really looked at him and his vessel. 

Damn, John was hot. 

You met older John before and you thought that he was definitely a DILF. 

But, his younger self was hot as fuck. 

"Stop having those thoughts about my vessel and go to bed!" The Angel ordered once again. 

"Okay, you don't tell me what to do. You don't own me," You responded, and annoyance was written across Michael's face. He snapped his fingers and you were suddenly lying down in your bed with your pajamas on, "Michael!" You scolded. 

You were standing in the kitchen, waiting for Dean to finish making breakfast which consisted of pancakes and bacon. 

"Goodnight, Y/N." He growled out before he disappeared with the sound of flapping wings.

---

"Hurry up, Dean. I'm starving!" You exclaimed and a chuckle left the older man's mouth. 

"You will survive, kiddo." He replied and went back to cooking the food. 

Finally, he finished the food and put it on a plate for you. He handed it to you and you took it out of his hands quickly, plopping down into the chair and picking up a fork, ready to eat this delicious food. 

When you were about to eat it, the plate freakin' disappeared. It was gone. 

"What the-" Before you could finish that sentence, a plate full of salad appeared in front of you. 

A freakin' salad?! 

"Your diet is horrible, little human." Michael commented with that stupid smirk on his face. 

"I'm sure that there are other important things for you to do in Heaven right now than to worry about my health and my food choices, Michael." You said angrily, anger rising in your chest. 

Dean sat at the table, eating his food as he watched you two go at it. 

"There's actually nothing important that I have to do in Heaven right now, Y/N. Heaven is doing great which is the exact opposite of what you are doing right now. Don't even get me started on the fact that you didn't even get 8 hours of sleep last night." 

You blinked at the angel in front of you. 

This angel is crazy. He is not your dad and was not someone to boss you around and make you eat rabbit food. You don't eat rabbit food. You now see  and understand what Dean was talking about when Sam brought that food in here. 

 You have officially had enough. 

You just smiled at them. A huge fake smile and grabbed the knife off the table. You walked over to the wall as the other two standing in the room watched you. After cutting your palm, you drew that angel banishing sigil on the wall. 

"What are you-" Michael couldn't finish that sentence because you completed the sigil and sent that damn angel away. 

"Ah, couple fights always make my mornings better." Dean spoke once Michael was gone with his mouth full of bacon and you rolled your eyes, leaving the room. 

 ---

That night, you and the Winchesters went to a bar. 

The brothers headed inside while you stayed outside, sitting on the bench. There weren't anyone out here except for a few other people. Some drunk and some not. 

"Hey handsome, did your license get suspended because you are driving me crazy." A random guy said that really cheesy pick up line to you, giving you a smile and you laughed. 

"You get a 0 for the pickup line, but a 10 for making me laugh." You told him and started chatting with him.

"So, Y/N..." He started rubbing his finger up and down your thigh as you felt yourself flush, "I may not be from NASA, but can I show you stars today?" 

 You opened your mouth to reply, but the annoying angel interrupted your conversation. 

"Sorry, but he's busy today." Michael spoke, irritation could be heard in his voice. He grabbed onto your shoulder and teleported you back to the bunker. 

"What the hell is your problem, Michael?" You screamed at the archangel. 

"That disgusting human tried to have sex with you, Y/N! I saved you!" 

"Maybe I wanted to have sex with him, Mikey." You retaliated, grabbing your knife and getting ready to draw that angel banishing sigil again, but Michael snapped his fingers and the knife disappeared. 

"You deserve way better than that filthy mongrel." Michael insisted. 

"Look, I know I'm like your powerhouse, or whatever, but you can't control my life. My eating habits and sleep schedule were pretty harmless, but who I have sex with is crossing a line and is none of your business." You told him, "Besides, I'm human. A mongrel or a hairless ape like you always say, so why do you care so much?" 

Michael stared at you for a long time before telling you what he was thinking, "Because I can't stand the idea of someone touching you." He let out a sigh and looked anywhere other than you. 

You looked at him in confusion, "Why can't you stand it?" 

 "I lied to you, Y/N. You are not a source of energy for me. You never were." He admitted, sitting on the bed, "You are so much more than just that. You are my soulmate." 

You stared at him for a couple seconds before you started laughing hysterically. 

"Me? Your soulmate?" You laughed again before having a serious expression on your face, "If this is some plan to get me to let you control my life, it's not gonna work." 

He looked at you, hurt and confused. 

 "I'm serious, Y/N. When I left the cage, Dad told me he had created a soulmate for me weeks ago." He got up from the bed and walked over to you, "When he showed me you, I started to laugh. How can a hairless ape be my soul mate? My father must have been crazy." He looked  at you deep in your eyes, "But, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I looked down on you from Heaven all the time to see how you were and your little habits. Oh My Father, I couldn't stand it. I wanted you. I wanted every inch of you," He walked closer to you and placed his hand on your cheek, "When I first met you in person, I thought about just taking care of you and being close to you and when I saw that man hit on you, I couldn't take it anymore. My grace boiled inside of me and before I knew it, I was on earth."

You couldn't really process everything that he just said, but for some reason you knew that he was telling the truth. 

"Michael..."

"I can't stand the idea of ​​another person, or thing touching you, Y/N. Please accept me as your soulmate." He bowed, waiting for your answer. 

You always said you hated Michael and everything he did, but that was far from the 

As much as the angel irritated you and could be very annoying, you felt a feeling of love deep down for this man.You loved Michael and all the things he has done for you. 

So, you knew what decision was right for you in the end.

"I accept you as my soulmate." 

And with that the angel smiled and attached his lips to yours. His muscular arms soon pulled at your waist, bringing you closer to him. 

"I wanted to do this for so long." He said  between kisses and then lifted you up. 

You were slightly worried about your weight but soon remembered that for an angel, you basically weighed nothing. 

 "Please Y/N, allow me to have you tonight. Allow me to make our flesh become one and allow me to merge your soul with my grace." You grunted yes between his lips but he seemed to understand since he threw you on your bed while looking at you as if you were his prey. 

He started removing the shirt he was wearing and you could see the man's muscular torso. 

"Lust is a deadly sin, Y/N." He bent down and started kissing your collarbone until he reached your ear, "Lucky you have an angel to cleanse you of your sins." 

Michael went back to your neck, sucking on it, making you moan his name. 

"This is it Y/N, pray for me." He started to suck hard on your neck until it was all marked with hickeys, "Now no miserable mortal will dare touch what is mine." He got up a little and kissed you hard, as his hand went under your shirt and caressed your torso. Michael pulled away to look at you. 

"You are by far the most perfect human to ever exist. in fact, it is a crime to compare you to a human. You are closer to a God." He said as a gentle hand stroked your sides. 

"Michael, there are more beautiful humans in the world than me." you said a little shy

"Well, I have watched humanity billions of years and you are my father's most beautiful creation." You blushed and Michael smirked, feeling confident. 

He started to remove his belt slowly, lowering his pants enough for you to see his underwear. 

"Do you like what you see, my prince?" He teased, winking at you. 

"Who knew an angel could secretly be a demon in bed." 

"You woke up a darker side of me, my prince. I had to deal with them myself, so I ended up learning something or two." He took off his pants and lowered his underwear enough to show his pubes. 

"Did you watch porn?" You asked and he just smiled. 

 "It doesn't matter now, honey." Michael lowered his underwear and revealed his erect member. 

 You had seen John naked once by accident and you already knew that older Winchester had a big package. 

 But, oh my Chuck the size scared you a little bit. 

"We’ll take it easy, Y/N. Don't be afraid."  He gently caressed your thigh as a method to calm you down. 

 When he saw that you were fine he crawled over to you, sitting on your chest and pointing his erect member in front of you

 "You know... seeing you sucking lollipops and popsicles was always a hell of a good sight to see. Your lips working on something so cold and hard, and still not being able to do anything. Well, I think you should pay me for having teased me for so long." He stated, brushing the head of his dick on your tongue "What a sight..." He gently put his dick in your mouth, inch by inch until it reached halfway and stopped.

"So hot and so cozy." Michael groaned and put a hand on your head, gently stroking your hair "Look at me." He ordered and you complied. 

 The moment you looked into his eyes you felt a thick taste of pre-cum in your mouth. 

 Slowly Michael pulled his hip back, leaving only his cockhead in your mouth before slowly putting it all back on. He repeated this movement over and over until you got used to it and then he started to fuck your mouth, getting deeper and deeper into your throat and making you choke a few times. Michael fucked your throat with formidable speed as he threw his head back and moaned. 

"So perfect." He spoke as he took his dick out of your mouth, bending down and planting a sweet kiss on your lips as well as checking if you were okay, "Let me worship you, my prince." Michael snapped his fingers and soon you were fully naked. 

 He turned you over and started to kiss your neck gently, making a kiss trail up and down your neck. He slowly went lower and lower, until he reached your ass. He put a hand on each cheek separating them and revealing your hole. 

 "So beautiful." Was the last thing you heard before feeling something wet and hot touching the perimeter of your hole. 

Michael gently brushed you with the tip of his tongue while his rough hands gripped your ass tightly. He wanted to mark you everywhere on your body. 

Soon a strange but good feeling started inside you, it was like you were being touched inside and soon a groan escaped your lips.

"What are you doing?" You asked between incessant moans. 

"My grace has many uses, Y/N and I heard that stimulating the prostate causes great pleasure. Apparently this is true." He replied as he ate you out. 

But this time he didn't lick gently. He was devouring you. Michael's tongue was fast and hungry, exploring the entire perimeter of your hole before penetrating you. 

 It was too much. The feeling was so overwhelming. Michael's tongue along with his grace made you unable to think. 

You felt your orgasm coming real quick, but you couldn't warn Michael in time.

When you were so close to a release everything stopped and you felt something holding your dick.

"Not yet, Y/N. We're going to do this together." Michael said and came out of the middle of your legs, kissing your crack up to your neck. He forced you to look at him and kissed you, "Y/N. My prince, will you give me permission to take you?"

You took a moment to contemplate Michael. The blue-green eyes looked at you with indescribable passion, as if you were a masterpiece that deserved to be contemplated. His mouth curled upward into a smile and his dark hair was so sweaty.

You always thought Michael's vessel was beautiful, but now you can't think of anything more beautiful than him. You no longer see him as young John, but as the person who loved you.

"Y/N? Is everything okay? If I went too far I'm sorry I thought that-"

"No, sorry I was just lost in thoughts." You kissed him on the lips, "Take me, Michael."

He smiled and snapped his fingers.

"As much as the whole preparation process is interesting and important, I am impatient, so why not just use my grace, right?" He winked at you and turned you on your back and positioned himself between your legs.

Michael slowly started to penetrate you until the head of his dick was completely inside of you. He looked at you to check that everything was fine before going in deeper. Inch by inch until he was completely inside. He bent down and started kissing your neck, waiting for you to get used to his size.

Michael then started to move, taking all of his length except his head and then putting everything back on. He repeated the movement over and over, each time with more speed until finally he pounds you.

Michael turned into a moaning mess while he fucked you.

He started kissing you while you moaned against each other.

One of Michael's hands flicked your nipple while another explored and caressed your torso. This along with Michael's accurate hit on your prostate made you moan loudly and Michael smirked.

"Do you think that man from earlier could make you feel the way you're feeling now?" Michael asked, "Do you think he would be able to fuck you  the way I fuck  you?" You didn't answer the question, but Michael already knew the answer. 

Michael's arms wrapped around you and turned you over. Now you were on top of him. 

"Ride me, babyboy." He put his hands behind his head and waited for you to start riding him, admiring the view. 

Michael had seen countless things in the world. From the paintings of each classic painting to the creation of each of the wonders of the world, but nothing could match the sight he was seeing now. 

With your eyes closed and your head thrown back, you moaned and rode him like there was no tomorrow. 

Michael moved his hands and placed one on each side of your, guiding you in the movements you were making. 

He knew was almost close and knew you would soon be close, too. Michael pulled you against his chest, moving so that he could move his hips so that he could continue to fuck you. 

"Y/N," He moaned out," My prince, my soul mate. I love you and I would leave everything for you. Heaven and my grace. You are my everything." Michael declared, but you could barely think with him pounding into you, his dick hitting your prostate constantly. 

You felt something warm involving you.  

It was Michael's wings. 

 With a grunt, Michael came inside of you but without stopping his movements.Your battered prostate along with the feeling of Michael's hot cum inside you brought you to your orgasm. 

 With your orgasm, Michael's movements became more and more slow until he finally stopped with both you panting hard. 

 Michael kissed you everywhere. On your head, your lips, your forehead, your neck. 

 His wings still surrounded you. 

 Michael moved you, putting you aside while he spooned you, his cock still inside you. 

A comforting hand gently caressed your thigh, "You are perfect, Y/N. I am eternally grateful that you let me love you." He kissed the back of your neck "Now rest my prince. Tomorrow we will have many things to do." He gave you one last kiss on the back of your neck.

You didn't know exactly what your relationship with Michael would be like now. But honestly you didn't care about that. 

All you cared about was the fact that your angel was hugging you with his wings surrounding you. 

And nothing else.

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Playin' With Fire: Frankie's Secret

Playin’ With Fire: Frankie’s secret

Summary: Dani and Frankie have been friends for almost two years now. While at a party, Dani learns Frankie’s darkest secret. Will their friendship surpass this hurdle? WIll they finally cross that line they have been teetering on? Or will this be the wedge that drives them apart?

Warnings: DRUG USE (straight up use of cocaine), ANGST (It starts it off), explicit language, a heated make out session, implication of smut (but no details because I suck at writing smut), Hurt!Frankie because it breaks my heart. I hurt my own heart writing this.

Pairings: Dani x Frankie, Frankie x ofc, Dani x Santiago

Word Count: 4,280

A/N: Part 2! Y'all this story is a wild ride. I am not responsible for any tears that are shed while reading this.

Tags: @221bshrlocked @danniburgh (if you want to be tagged, LMK)

It wasn’t often that Dani went to a party that wasn’t being hosted by a Miller brother. Yet, here she was at some random house with a lot of random people. Will said it would be fun, that she needed to relax. Benny said that she wouldn’t be alone because Frankie would be there. So how in the hell did she find herself standing around with none of the guys in sight?

Dani wandered aimlessly through the crowd of people, looking for someone she knew. She came across a door, and it seemed to be quiet on the other end. She quickly turned the knob to see that it was unlocked. Pushing the door open, she revealed her best friend, with a half naked brunette in his lap, snorting what looked like coke.

Her heart shattered into a million pieces. Dani couldn’t tell if it was because of the girl or the drug. “Tequila.” Frankie whimpered, but didn’t move a muscle. The girl in his lap twisted to see who opened the door.

“Either join in or get out.” The girl demanded, and Dani slammed the door shut. She knew she probably looked crazy; Tears running down her face, smearing her makeup, frantically looking for Will or Benny. She found the youngest Miller first, who immediately left the woman he was chatting up upon seeing Dani’s distressed state.

“Tequila, what happened?” He asked, wiping tears from her face. She tried to tell him, but it only came out in broken sobs. Benny was able to pick up “Frankie” and “cocaine”; After that, she was incoherent. Benny wrapped his arms around her, trying to give her some comfort. “Come on, let’s find Will and go.”

It took twenty minutes for Benny to track down Will, who was hooking up with the party host, Sara. Benny explained that Dani came up to him, sobbing and mentioned Frankie and coke. Will rushed to get dressed, apologizing for his hasty exit.

Dani was standing outside by Will’s jeep, eyes swollen and face red. Will rushed over, “Teq, I’m so sorry.” He comforted and placed a kiss to her head before ushering her into the car, just in time for Frankie to come running out the door. Benny took three large strides toward him before throwing a right hook that connected hard with his jaw.

“The fuck were you thinking, Fish? I thought you quit that shit!” Benny yelled at his friend who clutched his face where a red bruise was already starting to form, struggling to get up off the ground.

“Please, Benny.” Frankie started as he stood up, gesturing to the girl crying in the front seat “Let me talk to her.” He begged, trying to move toward the car. Will stepped in.

“You’ve done enough, Catfish. Leave her alone.” Will growled at the man before him. Frankie, exhaled a shaky breath and took a step back from his friends.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I’m so sorry.” He yelled a little louder, hoping Dani could hear him through the window. She turned her head just in time to see the same brunette that was seated on his lap, start dragging him back inside.

Dani didn’t leave her room for three days. She barely touched anything Will or Benny brought her to eat. She barely slept, the image of Frankie doing lines of the white substance haunted her dreams. She tried to focus on the crappy ‘B’ rated horror movie playing on Netflix.

A knock on the door drew her from the screen. “It’s open.” She said numbly. It was Will. He came in carrying a tray of food and a few water bottles. Dani noticed and gave him a quiet ‘thank you’, before turning her attention back to her laptop.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Will asked her just like he had every day before. Today she seemed ready.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She whispered, still looking at the screen. Will took a seat next to her on the bed.

“It wasn’t our story to tell. As far as we knew, he cleaned up after being discharged. Tequila, I promise you, if any of us knew, we would have told you.” Will tried to explain to her, knowing that his words weren’t going to help much.

Tears slowly started to trickle down her cheeks. She felt so stupid, letting herself get so close to him. Will pulled the computer away from her lap, sitting it on her bedside table. She instantly curled into him as sobs wracked her body. Will felt so helpless. On one hand, he has his best friend who has a drug problem and on the other, his best friend who has a broken heart. He didn’t know where to begin to fix either. Will noticed that the sobs finally stopped and her breathing evened out. She was finally asleep. He could have wiggled out from her hold, but instead, he made himself comfortable and fell asleep, too.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Frankie?” Benny’s voice stirred Will awake. He shot up off the bed and ran to the living room. He found Benny holding Catfish back from entering the doorway.

“I need to talk to her, Benny. I have to- shit, I have to explain myself.” Frankie begged his friend.

Will could see his brother getting angrier by the second, so he intervened. “Go check on her, make sure she’s still sleeping. I’ll handle this.” Will prompted his brother. Benny relaxed, moving away from Frankie. Will slid into his spot, blocking him from coming inside.

“Will, please.” Frankie begged. “I just want to see her. I’m sorry for this. I never wanted to hurt her.” All Frankie wanted was to make sure she was okay. He was about to speak again when Dani’s voice broke through the silence. Frankie took in her state, hair in a bun, eyes rimmed red and puffy.

“It’s okay, Ironhead.” She murmured, arms wrapped around herself in mock comfort. Will turned himself to face her. He brought a hand up to caress her face, erasing stray tears. He gave her his best ‘are you sure?’ look. She nodded, “I’ll be okay, Will. I’ll yell if I need you.” She tried to give him a smile, but she was so damn tired.

Will looked back at Frankie, “I love you, man, but she better not need me." The blonde threatened him and Frankie knew he meant it. He shook his head in agreement; Frankie would gladly let Will hurt him. He just wanted to make this right. Will moved over, letting Frankie pass him into the living room. Frankie looked around. Out of all the times he sat in the room, he never imagined himself sitting here because of this.

Dani moved to take a seat across from him. She gave Will a look to let him know that she was okay, and he left the room. She focused her attention back to the man in front of her. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept either. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had dark circles under them, which didn’t complement the five o’clock shadow that dusted his face. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of her or the drugs.

Frankie noticed Dani looking over his features, and he felt ashamed, like he didn’t deserve to have her look at him. He hung his head low, trying to avoid making eye contact with her. He knew he couldn’t hide his face forever, but for now, the floor was looking pretty good.

Dani shuffled in her seat, trying to get herself comfortable before diving into a conversation she really did not want to have. As she thought of what she was going to say, Frankie started to apologize.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Teq.” He raised his head, tears chasing each other down his face. “I know that sorry doesn’t mean much, but I am.” Frankie wiped his tears away as he finally made eye contact with her.

“Why, Frankie?” Her words were barely detectable, but Frankie heard them. Those two words put a vice grip around his heart and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know why. Why did he let himself fall off the wagon after so long? Why did he let Vanessa back into his life when he could have had Dani? He didn’t have any answers for her.

“Can I start from the beginning?” He asked her, hoping they could talk things out. Dani thought it over. Did she really want to hear this? The choice was obvious. she needed to know and gave Frankie a curt nod.

Frankie moved to the floor in front of her chair, sitting crossed legged, looking up at her. “It started after my first helo crash.” Frankie began.

“This is gonna be a bumpy ride boys,” Frankie yelled through the headset. He was maneuvering the helo through gunfire, trying to find a safe place to land.

“Fish, we got smoke back here!” Pope bellowed, hanging onto the doorway of the cockpit. Frankie looked back at his friend. How was he going to do this? He looked back down to the earth, and all he saw was desert sand. “Fish! We gotta land, man. Or this thing’s gonna blow!” Santiago reiterated.

Frankie found a spot far enough away from the flying bullets, that he could try to land as safely as possible. When he started to bring it down, alarms started blaring, lights flashed. “Fuck! Guys, buckle up. This isn’t going to be good.”

“That crash broke Benny’s arm. Since then, I was a nervous wreck behind the controls. I almost got everyone killed because I couldn’t land the damned helo. My mistake almost killed my friends.” Frankie paused to compose himself. “At first, I only did it to calm my nerves, then I just lost control of it, using whenever I could. I was discharged with my license suspended. I did a rehab program and luckily, I was able to get my license reinstated.”

Dani tried to comprehend what he was telling her. All of her medical training told her that he had a disease, an addiction. She wanted to reach out and console him, but he kept this from her. She had shared all of her secrets with him and he kept this huge one from her. “What about the girl?” She asked, knowing she had no right to be jealous. Frankie wasn’t hers.

“Vanessa was a fling, someone I would get high with. She was just there.” He gulped, “I wasn’t looking to get high. It was a moment of weakness. I hadn’t used it in almost thirteen months.” Since he met her. He was laying everything out for her and he was praying she would still accept him.

Dani sat there, staring at the man in front of her. He was unrecognizable. He looked sad, broken. Nowhere near the happy, flirty, person she met on Benny’s birthday. She wasn’t sure how to respond. She wanted to understand. She wanted to help him past this, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t know if she was strong enough.

“Please say something, hermosa. Lo siento mucho.” Frankie apologized again, reaching to grab her hands. She didn’t pull away like he thought she would. Instead, she moved to kneel on the ground with him.

She released his hands to pull him in for a hug. The gesture was enough to completely destroy Frankie’s resolve. Frankie sobbed into her. “Lo siento mucho. Lo haré mejor, lo prometo.” Dani held him for what felt like forever, stroking his hair.

“I want to help you, Frankie.” She whispered into his hair, still holding him close. “But I need you to want to help yourself.” Frankie’s head bobbed in agreement. He needed this.

The following weeks were hard on Frankie. Detoxing off the drug was a lot harder than he remembered, but Dani was there every step of the way. The exhaustion, shakes, and cravings were tolerable, but when the nightmares started, Frankie didn’t know if he would make it.

Dani let herself into Frankie’s apartment after her shift at the hospital. “Frankie?” She called out but did not get a reply. She moved further inside, making her way to Frankie’s room. She heard the shower running as she walked into his bedroom. “Frankie?” She called out again.

As she got closer to the bathroom, she could hear Frankie’s broken sobs over the shower. She rushed in to see him sitting in the corner of the tub, knees drawn to his chest. He raised his head when the door slammed into the wall.

“Dani?” He choked out, like he was surprised to see her. She rushed over to him. Feeling that the water was freezing, she quickly turned it off. She grabbed a towel, throwing it over him to give him some form of cover.

“Fuck, fish. What’re you doing? Trying to give yourself hypothermia?” Dani moved to grab more towels. She was able to get him to stand up and move into the bedroom. She searched his room for warm clothing. “Here.” She handed him the sweats and hoodie she found. “I’m gonna make you something to eat while you get dressed.” She exited the room and closed the door behind her. She felt her own tears threatening to fall down her face. It was hard to see her friend like this. She wiped away the drops that strayed down, trying to compose herself.

Frankie emerged from his room and followed the savory smell coming from the kitchen. “Hermosa.” His voice cracks a little, but she still hears him. Smiling, she turns to see him, arms wrapped around himself. “Shit, Teq.” He walks over to her, bringing a hand up to caress her face. “I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” He whispers, pulling her in for a hug.

“I’m okay, Fish.” She mumbles into his chest. “I made bacon and eggs.” She wasn’t going to say that was all she could make with the contents in his kitchen because the man was already down.

“Thank you, Dani. For everything. I think the worst has finally passed.” Frankie told her as they sat down at his tiny dining table. She handed him his plate before placing her own in front of her. The two ate in a comfortable silence.

“You wanna talk about it?” Dani asked as Frankie cleared the table. Frankie placed the dishes in the sink and turned back to where she sat at the table.

“I keep having the same nightmare. I’m in a helo and it's going down. It’s just like that first crash, except you’re there. And there’s nothing I can do to save you.” Frankie describes his dream, fighting back the emotion that is pouring through him.

“I’m here, Frankie. I’m here.” She tells him as she walks over. Taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Feel that? I’m alive.” She moves it over his own, “You are, too. We are going to figure this out together.” The tension between them is palpable. Frankie looks down at Dani, her blue orbs staring back at him and all he can think about his pressing his lips to hers. Instead, he pulls away. She deserves more than a fuck up like me, he thought.

“Thank you. For dinner, fuck, for everything. You should go home and get some rest.” He practically pushed her out the door. “I’ll be okay.” He reassured her one last time before she said good-bye. He watched her walk to her car, climb inside, and drive away.

After the almost kiss, Dani did her best to give Frankie space. She knew he was going through a lot and he was probably having a lot of conflicted emotions. She stayed away from his apartment for about a week, checking in via text. He always responded immediately.

It was Saturday evening, and she had just finished her ER shift. She had sent a text to Frankie earlier in the day and still had not heard from him. Deciding that a trip to his apartment was warranted, Dani made her way over.

She knocked on the door three times before it opened. “Vanessa?” Dani choked out as the brunette stood there, wrapped in a towel. “Where’s Frankie?” She asked, her voice a little shaky.

“He’s busy, sweetie. Go home.” Vanessa snarked with a smirk on her face. Dani rolled her eyes, before storming past her toward Frankie’s room. She all but kicked the door open, sending the handle smashing into the wall.

“What the fuck?!” Frankie yelled, coming out of his bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. The angry look on his face dropped as soon as he saw her. “Fuck.” He whispered, dropping his head. Dani knew immediately what was going on.

“Frankie, tell me this isn’t what it looks like.” She wished, pointing to the powdered substance on his dresser. He didn’t answer. “Frankie, please.” Her voice cracked, “Tell me you aren’t doing fucking coke again.” She pleaded. He raised his head to look at her, but did not answer.

She shook her head in disappointment before walking out of the room. “Dani!” Frankie called as he chased after her. “Dani, please, don’t go.” He begged her. She stopped in her tracks before she reached the door. Vanessa scoffed, muttering under her breath “to let her go”.

She slowly turned around. “Fuck you, Frankie Morales. Fuck you and fuck her.” She spat, pointing to Vanessa who was sitting on Frankie’s couch. Dani focused back on Frankie. “Thank you for wasting my time, my effort, my love. I told you when I started to help you that you had to want to get clean. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t. So, fuck you.” She blubbered, tears of regret and hurt welling in her eyes, spilling over her lashes.

She didn’t wait for a reply as she walked out of the door. It closed behind her with a loud thud. She got to her car and let out the sobs she was holding in. Dani had never felt anything like this. Even when she caught him at the party, it didn’t hurt this bad. She felt like some punched her in the stomach and could hear her heart pounding in her ears. What was she supposed to do now?

Dani pulled into her driveway to find Santiago sitting outside on the porch, like he was waiting on someone to come home. She put her car in park and he’s there to open her door. “¿Estás bien?” He asked as she stepped out.

She didn’t dare to look the brunette in the eyes, because she knew she'd break. “I’m fine.” She replied curtly, looking at the ground, walking toward the house. He followed quickly behind her. Once inside, she threw her bag onto the couch, going straight to the kitchen. She poured a shot of tequila, offering one for Santiago. He shakes his head ‘no’.

“Shit, Teq. What’s wrong?” He asks again, worry laced in his voice. He can tell she’s been crying. Her eyes are red, and her face is blotchy. She downs the alcohol and pours another.

“He’s doing coke again.” She rasped out, throwing back the second drink. Slamming the glass on the counter, she left Santiago and walked to her room.

He ran a hand down his face before tailing her. What the fuck have you done, Catfish. He thought. He found Dani laying face first into her pillow. “What do you mean he’s doing coke again?” He questions, sitting next to her legs.

She rolled over and sat up. “I mean, I hadn’t heard from him all day. I was worried. I got to his apartment and Vanessa was there.” she hiccuped, falling back on the pillow again. “There was coke on his dresser.” Dani sniffled, a sickening feeling growing in her stomach.

“I’m sorry, Dani.” He whispered, not really sure if she heard him. He is sorry. He’s sorry that Frankie is being an idiot. He’s sorry that she’s hurting. And he’s sorry that all he wants to do is make it better.

Dani fought to push her sadness down. She wiped her tears away and moved to sit up again, so that she’s looking at him. “I’m sorry, you looked like you had something you wanted to say.” She apologized and gave him her full attention.

Santiago nodded. “Yeah. I’m um, I’m going to South America. Colombia. I got a contract with the military.” He told her. “I’m supposed to leave in a month.” Her face dropped, and for a second she wonders how much heartbreak a person can take.

“South America? For how long?” She asked in disbelief. How could Santi be going to a different country? She just lost Frankie, she couldn’t lose him, too.

“I’m not sure.” He was being honest. He didn’t know when or if he would be back. It wasn’t going to be the safest contract. Dani sat there staring at him, speechless. “Teq?” He said, and she lifted her sad eyes to his. Almost as if he could read her mind, he promised, “I’ll come back.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t know that, Santi.” She mumbled, “What if you don’t come back?” The brunette shakes his head, telling her that she can’t think like that.

His cedar brown eyes met her blue ones. He reached out for her, pulling her into his embrace. He had an internal debate on whether or not he should say anything. It would be completely selfish of him, especially since he knew how Fish felt about her. That didn’t stop him from saying, "I have a contact down there who can get you certification to practice there. You could come with me, work in a hospital there."

Dani's body stiffened. Go to South America with Santi? She couldn't, could she? Santi could practically see the gears turning in her head. "It's not a marriage proposal, babe." He joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Dani let out a breathy laugh, "Yeah, like I would ever assume you are proposing marriage." Santi rolled his eyes, squeezing her tighter.

"I could settle down for the right woman." He rebutted, and they both burst into laughter. They knew Santi wasn’t the ‘settle down’ type. His arms relaxed around her and she wiggled her way out of his hold to sit back down on her bed.

"Seriously though, Tequila. If you want to come, the option is there." He offered her again. She could look into it. She could help so many less fortunate people, the whole reason why she wanted to become a doctor. After tonight, maybe it would be for the best.

"Okay." She says and his eyes go wide, like he didn't hear her correctly. "I want to go." She reiterates. Now he knows he wasn't hearing things. A huge smile crossed his face and he scooped her up into his arms again. Dani sighed in contentment. He smelled like mint and leather, even though he wasn’t wearing any, with a hint of whiskey.

She leaned her head back, so that she could look up at him. She was surprised to find him staring back at her. Her eyes subconsciously flickered to his lips as his tongue swiped out to dampen them. She didn't know if it was the buzz from the alcohol earlier, but she pushed forward to crash her lips into his.

Santi froze at the feeling of her lips on his. It was if he had fallen into one of his dreams, where the blonde woman had been running rampant. His hand found purchase at the back of her head, pulling her closer as their lips moved in tandem.

Dani's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers playing in the curls growing at the base of his head. She felt his tongue dance along her bottom lip, as if to ask for permission to enter. She parted her lips, finally tasting him as their tongues met. He even tasted like mint and whiskey.

Santi nibbled her bottom lip, which drew a low moan from her. He knew right then that he wanted more sounds from her. He tightened the grip on the back of her head, pulling it to the side, so that he could have access to her neck. He broke the kiss unceremoniously, before attacking her neck, finding her sweet spot immediately.

"Santi," Dani whimpered with need. Santi groaned at the sound of his name coming off her lips. She sounded like an angel. He wanted to hear more.

He pulled back to look at her. Her eyes so dark with lust, Santi could barely see the baby blue. Her hair was a mess where he buried his fingers. She looked absolutely beautiful. "Fuck, Tequila." Santi said breathlessly. His hands caressed her face, one thumb swiping over her bottom lip. "Fuck, as much as I want to do this. I can't." He said as his hands dropped and he stepped back. "I'm sorry, Teq. You would hate me in the morning."

Dani, brain still fuzzy with need, nodded, "Yeah, yeah. You're right. It's best that we stop now." She hesitantly agreed, when really what she wanted was for him to make her forget. Make her forget Frankie. Make her forget work. Make her forget her own name.

Santi took a deep breath, running a hand across his face. His eyes met hers once more, trying to find any signs of regret. There were none. "We really shouldn't do this." He said one more time before connecting their lips again.

Translations:

Hermosa- Beautiful

Lo siento mucho- I’m really sorry.

Lo haré mejor, lo prometo- I’ll do better, I promise.

¿estás bien?- Are you okay?

[corpse--diem]

Suspension of Disbelief | solo

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Nichols’ Funeral Home SUMMARY:  With the weeks drawing closer to the funeral home’s grand reopening, Erin reconciles with her past and reaches her limit. CONTENT WARNINGS: none

While Erin had floated in and out of the funeral home during reconstruction, this was the first time she stood alone in the house in nearly six months. No hammers, no drills, no chatter of the crew off in the distance. They were done, nearly. Some coats of paint still needed to go up in the living quarters and there were a few doors ready to be installed sitting in the hallways, but outside of small finishing touches--it was done. Her entire morning had been spent in her office, organizing the files that had been salvaged from the fire and preparing for what she still needed to replace. It was the most finished room in the large home outside of the basement and for the first time in months, she recognized a glimpse of a life that had been long out of her grasp. Even the mountain of paperwork overtaking her desk garnered a small, wispy smile. This was normal. This was hers.

Her hands touched over a large vanilla envelope and she perked up even further at the sender. The Maine Board of Funeral Services had finally sent over a new copy of her license. She jumped up, grabbing the empty picture frame she’d set aside. The office’s final touch. Her grin grew as she tore the envelope open. The paper inside wasn’t what she was expecting. Flimsy, thin, and much unlike the higher weighted paper that a certificate typically bore.

It wasn’t a certificate. It was a letter.

The words were there. She read them clearly. She read them again. And again.

...Until a proper investigation regarding the alleged organ trafficking operation within the Nichols’ Funeral Home has taken place, the board has agreed to suspend the license of the funeral director until further notice. All funeral services are to cease immediately...

And again. Each time, it said the same thing. Her gaze became lost in the black shapes of each letter, then to the sea of white surrounding them. She couldn’t understand the words. Black ate at the edge of her vision. Everything was loud. Even the light was loud. It buzzed in her ear and grew more intense the longer she stood, frozen to her spot, the letter in one hand and the frame in the other. All she could focus on was the impossibly loud buzzing in her ear but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

All at once, it stopped.

“Oh, isn’t that just perfect?”

Erin closed her eyes and shook her head, dropping the frame and letter back onto her desk. If she didn’t acknowledge the voice or the low laughter that followed, it wasn’t real.

“I know you can hear me, Nichols.”

The smell of cigar smoke hit her nose and she tensed, squeezing her eyes shut. No. No. This wasn’t happening. None of this was happening. Quiet settled around her once more and she took a deep breath in and back out again. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. She’d open her eyes and--

“I’m still here,” the voice chimed in smugly.

Erin’s eyes snapped open.

Roy Chamber’s sharp smile greeted her with all the malice it’d bore in life. He was leaning in the doorway to her office, a cigar dangling from his lips. “Atta girl. There were go,” he exclaimed excitedly between puffs. “Miss me?”

This wasn’t real. He wasn’t real. Roy was dead. Just a husk of bone and long-rotten flesh that had been tossed into the bay months ago. The knife had slipped into the softness of his temple with some effort but no--it’d done the trick. Roy Chambers, in no uncertain terms, was dead.

“No. No,” she managed between grit teeth. She closed her eyes once more, shaking her head furiously, almost laughing at the absurdity of this moment. “You are not here. You’re--no. No.”

“Oh, yes,” Roy corrected her, boisterous and sure. But he was right. He was here, stepping into her office like none of the events of the warehouse ever happened. Like it’d been a bad dream, a nightmare, one she was about to relive. Was she dead? Was there a hell after all?

He reached for the letter on her desk and all she could do was watch. She wasn’t afraid, she realized. She should have been, she knew that too, but it wasn’t fear that gripped her. It was anger. That hard, dark anger she had been working so hard to quiet. It wasn’t quiet now. He chuckled as he looked over the words on the paper and it flared brightly within her like an angry star. “Nice to see you too, toots. Long time coming, don’t you think?” He mused, glancing around the desk for an ashtray, then up at her when he found none. “Not a smoker? I don’t know why I thought you might be. It’s because you’re always so stressed, I think. Stressed people have the worst vices. But good for you--this stuff’ll kill you.”

He leaned forward and upended it in her coffee mug before turning his attention to the frame. “Anyway--won’t take up much of your time. I know you’re busy with getting things ready for the reopening.” He nodded at the letter with a knowing grin, clearly tickled. “Told you this wasn’t going to end well for you. Remember? Because I do. Very clearly. Maybe you didn’t want to believe me or just didn’t want to hear it, but either way it’s pretty clearly you forgot. And I get that. I was dead, you won, I lost.” He dragged his finger from one end of his throat to another and flashed a grimace at her. “Point made. A dead man can admit defeat when it gets pierced through his cranium. I gotta ask though...” he paused for a long moment, unhooking the metal backings of the frame one by one, the side of his mouth turning upward into a punchable grin. She balled her fists instead.

Even now, this guy droned on. Couldn’t even stay dead without making a grand gesture. There wasn’t an ounce of patience left in her for this. “What?” She shot back.

“Was it worth it?”

The question struck Erin like a bullet between the eyes. Left her stunned, silent, wholly unprepared for the blow. He slipped the suspension notice into the frame and began closing the back up and raised a brow a her. “Really? Nothing? Not one quitty retort? Not even a ‘Fuck you’? Disappointing.” He grimaced and stepped back from the desk, framed letter in hand. “Let’s review. Maybe it’ll jog your memory, get your blood flowing, wake up that fighting spirit that got you here. We’ll circle back to that and see how you feel then, hm?”

Erin followed his gaze to the wall beside them. Small, framed portraits hung where empty wall space had been moments before. Her eyes grew and her throat tightened.

“Exhibit A!” Dale’s shit eating grin stared at her, a trail of dried blood trickling from the top of his head, down his neck, soaking into his shirt. Like a screenshot of a memory that was still burned into her memory. “Always hated that guy. Can’t say I was too upset to see him and his Hawaiian shirts say Aloha. Pretty creative with that kill though, getting that mara to do the dirty work for you.” He nodded at her. “I meant it when I said I was impressed.”

He took another step back, moving onto the next photo like he was at the beginning of a presentation. He tapped the glass of the next one. A news article. “Multiple victims were found dead following the explosion that destroyed an abandoned manufacturing warehouse at the docks on Amity Road early Friday morning.” Roy raised his eyebrows at her excitedly. “That was you.” He let out a bellowing laugh and shook his head and quickly pointed to the photo directly beside it. Another article. “Three more dead at Pat’s and dozens hospitalized. That was you too! Say, didn’t you have some friends there that day?”

Erin’s fingernails dug into the palm of her hand. “That was you,” she snapped back.

Roy raised a hand, shaking a finger at her. “Uh-uh. This,” he pointed to the Pat’s article, “Only happened because of this.” His finger jabbed at the Ring article once more before bouncing back and forth between the two. “Cause and effect. Makes the world go round. Try and keep up, Nichols. Am I losing you already here?”

Maybe if she closed her eyes and counted to ten he’d disappear and leave her alone. Had she fallen asleep? She didn’t remember laying down but it was possible. Wouldn’t have been the first time her body had given up on her the second she found a comfortable couch. He laughed again, loud and joyfully, and her entire body sagged when she opened her eyes. Still here. This time he stood in front of her mugshot, giggling like an idiot. “I’m sorry--well, no. I’m not. Not at all. This is beautiful.”

He gathered himself and took a deep breath before moving on, moving faster now as he gestured towards the next few photos: Detective Wu’s car being pulled from Dark Score Lake, a snapshot of the fire from the funeral home lighting up the night sky, Sgt. Roland Hill’s obituary, the memory of Marley lying motionless on that warehouse floor. Erin couldn’t look anymore. Roy noticed. He pressed on, loud and clear. “Death, after death, after death. Strangers and friends alike.” A photo of her and Alain doting over Betty came next. “No wonder that little French friend of yours hightailed it out of the country without even a word after you got his leg lobbed off.”

“Stop it,” she hissed. It felt like she was being crushed. Like every picture, every word, added another ton of pressure directly on top of her. Her breaths quickened and her heart pounded dangerously fast between her ribs. “Stop it.”

“Not until you answer the question, Erin.” He barked back, harsh edges replacing the humor from before. The next photo shook on the wall when he pressed a finger against the glass. “Remember them? The witches of the coven you failed to inform about a fext in town? The ones I sucked dry? Because of you. Cause and effect, actions and consequences, Erin. It all comes back around. These people suffered and died because you couldn’t leave well enough alone. Because your freedom was worth more than any of their lives.”

Roy’s smile was gone. Dark eyes stared back at her. The last spot on the wall was empty, a single nail marking the spot. He set the framed letter in place, making sure it was perfectly straight. “There,” he said calmly, stepping back to admire the small gallery before them. That sick smile returned and he craned his neck to look at Erin again. “Can’t ignore this forever, Nichols. This is your handiwork. A trail of accomplishments that brought you back home and to this place you built on their blood, sweat and tears. All for them to--” Laughter spilled from his throat, his sheer glee interrupting his own words. “All for them to suspend your license. You can’t even work.”

It took more than a few moments for his laughter to settle into a humored chuckle. Erin’s cheeks flushed with shame. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. He didn’t notice and didn’t care, pulling another cigar from his suit pocket. “Indulge a dead guy and bask in it with me for a few minutes, will you?”

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t look. Not at him and not at the wall in front of her. Her hands shook furiously and she couldn’t breathe. “Get out,” she managed, but it wasn’t more than a harsh, choked whisper and she tried it again with more vigor. “Get. Out.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

She was going to be sick. This was a nightmare. This had to be a nightmare. Her hands rushed up to cover her face, rubbing her eyes, pulling at tufts of hair her hair as her fingers glided through them.

“Please. Please. Stop. Just stop.” Erin was nearly begging now. She could feel his gaze boring a hole into her but he wasn’t letting this go. Not until she answered. Not until she looked at the wall.

“Was it worth it?”

CRASH!

Across the room, a vase of fresh flowers lay shattered on the ground where Roy had been seconds ago. She wasn’t at her desk. She was standing in front of the framed letter on the wall. The room was starkly silent outside of that. Roy was gone and the frames on the wall with him. Minutes passed before she realized she hadn’t thrown the vase across the room but knocked it off the stand near the framed letter. Did she do that?

Roy was dead. Roy wasn’t here. She’d imagined it. It’d been his voice, his image, but her words playing back at her. Her hands shook. Was it worth it? The question cycled on an endless loop, tormenting her more than the ‘No’ that screamed for attention at the back of her mind.

She ripped the letter from the wall, locking onto the words again. One word. Suspended. She gave in to the despair and rage that filled every pocket of her soul and didn’t stop until the frame was just a shattered afterthought on the ground. Didn’t stop until every book, every trinket, every photo was thrown onto the floor with it. Her screams tore through her and tears poured down her face like a monsoon that’d finally ripped through and shattered the ceiling of the safe house she’d been hiding in. What did it matter anymore? It didn’t. She’d been beaten. Roy’s last move came late and without warning, destroying the last shred of stability she had left. She couldn’t hold it together anymore. Six months of tightly wound emotions exploded without any sign of stopping. Her neatly piled paperwork filled the floor around her. Coffee covered the walls. Glass crunched under her feet.

It wasn’t worth it.

[basiccortez]

Defenseless Ch. 3

synopsis: CJ Jackson, looks like she has it all. Fancy car, fancy house, name brand clothing. Her parents, top boosters to Beverly, with money to make all sorts of situations go away. As well as the Jackson family looks put together, past secrets haunt them. With the new transfer student catching the eye of CJ Jackson, can old friendships be fixed. Or are somethings just meant to stay broken.

“I told you, as long as I live, no one would know."

——————————————————————————

pairing: Jordan Baker x OC (CJ Jackson) 

word count: 3.1k

warning: language, talk of a teen being arrested, talk about a car accident, mentions of death, panic attack 

tag list: @thevelvetseries

Tears ran down CJ's face as she held the picture frame in her hands. She had dug through the box, something she hadn't done since she packed everything up about 3 months ago. The smiling boy looked up at her, and CJ's heart was broken all over again. It was like she was reliving that day all over again, and she hated it. ------------------------------------------------------------

"Where is he? Where is he at?" CJ said, shooting up from the bed she was in. The nurses quickly walked over to her and tried to calm her down, "No! Don't touch me! Where is he?! Where is Kordell!? Someone tell me where Kordell is at!?"

"Hun, you need to calm down." A female nurse said.

"BP rising." Another nurse said.

"No! No! What happened!? Where the hell am I?!" CJ screamed.

"You were in an accident, your parents on the way. Christine, did you take anything? Are you on anything currently?" The female nurse asked again.

"No, no! I need to see Kordell!" CJ asked again, as she pulled the oxygen canula at of her nose and caught a glimpse of a familiar person, "Jordan?" The lightskin boy turned and looked at his friend in a hospital bed, cuts and bruises all over her face, and a cast on her left arm, "Where is Kordell!?"

"CJ. . . Kordell, he-" Jordan spoke, but a police officer came into CJ's room, and blocked the view of Jordan Baker.

"Christine Jackson? You are under arrest for the vehicular murder of Kordell Morgan, and driving under the influence of illegal narcotics." The officer said and placed a pair of handcuffs to CJ's free wrist

——————————————————————————

It was like a nightmare. CJ stood in front of her mirror in her dance uniform, ready for her first game. The navy blue uniform looked good against her tan skin, and her mother had done her hair. CJ took a deep breath and grabbed her bag, before heading downstairs. Carver and Roman were both waiting for her, so she could ride with them together. After the accident, CJ had her license suspended for a whole year. It sucked being a high schooler with out a car, but she understood why she didn't have the car.

"You ready for this? First game, in front of a big crowd." Roman asked the Jackson girl.

"Ready as I'll ever be. As long as Emily doesn't try to make me look like a fool." CJ answered. ------------------------------------------------------------

The field was lights were bright, as CJ stepped on to the track for the first time in almost a year. The Beverly football team wore their navy blue jerseys and were already starting to warm up for tonight's battle on the gridiron. The dancers were on one side of the track, while the cheerleaders were on another. CJ could feel the glares of fellow students in the stands as she made her way towards her team.

"Hey! First game! You ready!?" Hadley asked her with a bright smile on her painted red lips.

"As ready as I can be standing in front of a whole school who hates me." CJ said sitting down her bag. Hadley just smiled and sighed.

"Coach put you in the middle, just thought you should know. She wants you calling shots. She knows Emily can't do it."

"I'm not even on the team yet, and they're making me shot caller?" CJ asked as she slipped on her white high top Nike Air Force One's.

"It's cause we want your mom back, Miss Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader Pauline Jackson." Hadley laughed and CJ rolled her eyes.

"She hates Beverly, only reason we are still here is because they kiss our ass and get on their knees to suck our cocks when we try to pull money out of the school." CJ said frankly.

Before Hadley could respond, their coach called all the girls together, to get ready for the boys to run out. CJ was instructed to tumble across the field as the boys were getting announced, something she used to do at every game. The girls stood on the field and danced along to the hype song before the boys ran out. CJ did as told and did what she could and flipped her way across the field. ------------------------------------------------------------

It was a terrible game. Beverly looked terrible, and the other team was running circles around them. CJ did her best to keep her spirit high as the team would dance along to the music over the loud speaker, or what the band would play. She also did her best to ignore the glares of various students and parents in the crowd. Pauline and Anthony had sat right in front of her, to give her some positivity to look at.

"She looks just like her mama." Anthony said smiling at his wife.

"Of course she does, she got her talent from me." Pauline sassed back. Anthony faked hurt and held his hand to his heart. Pauline laughed and gently shoved her husband, "Oh shush, Carver is just like you. Out there being a tank."

Beverly had turned it around, trying their hardest to match up to the opponent. Spencer was working as hard as he could to make his name. They were all working hard, CJ could smell the sweat rolling all off of them as they walked to the sideline.

Spencer was running back on the field, which confused CJ, knowing that he was a defensive player. The boys broke their huddle and got on the line of scrimmage. Jordan hung in the shotgun for as long as he could, as his teammates scattered around the field. Spencer ran wide to the right, getting in the line way of number 54. As the player was running towards Jordan, Spencer dropped his shoulder into the player. Jordan held on to the ball and ran down the sideline, his teammates protecting him as he made a clear drive to the end zone.

CJ let out a loud scream as Beverly won the game. The crowd was cheering loud, and the whole football team ran out on the field. Carver took his helmet off and pointed to his parents and then to his sister. CJ blew her brother a kiss, and waved to him. Jordan took his helmet off and looked over to where his mother and sister were, but also to where CJ stood cheering on the boys victory. CJ caught his glance and smiled brightly at him. Jordan nodded and then turned to greet his dad, who just ignored him and hugged Spencer.

"Hey, man, can I talk to you for a second?" Jordan asked number 40 for the other team.

Spencer took a deep breath as he was walking off the field. He stood in front of CJ and smiled at her. She was about to congratulate him, when Leila jumped in. CJ just nodded to Spencer and walked over to where her bag was. She changed out of her shoes, and zipped up her blue dance team jacket, before going over to where her parents were talking to Carver and Roman.

"CJ," Her dance team coach said stopping her in her tracks, "I want to officially welcome you back to the dance team. We are looking for you to be a co-captain."

"Thank you, coach." CJ smiled.

The ride home for the Jacksons' was an exciting one. Talk of the game filled the car as the siblings all rode with Carver and Roman. CJ sat in the back of the SUV and watched the cars as they passed by. She wasn't surprised when they pulled up to Hadley's house for the after game party.

"Hey, we don't have to stay, Carv said I can take the car home if you don't want to stay." Colton said to his twin sister. CJ took a deep breath and looked at her brother.

"I know how bad you want to be here, but I just. . .it's been enough high school interaction for one day." CJ said honestly.

"That's okay C, let's head home ight?" -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

CJ couldn't sleep that night. She sat on the roof outside her window and held a picture in her hand, and had a bottle of pills sitting next to her. She just wanted to swallow them and forget the images replaying in her mind, but she knew she couldn't. His bright smile looked up at her, and she felt guilt drown her. She quietly climbed back into her room, and headed down the stairs. She knew she her ass was grass if she got caught, but she couldn't sleep.

CJ prayed that her parents or brothers hadn't heard her start her car. It had sat idle in the garage for months since she was sent to juvie. The streets of Beverly Hills were almost abandoned at 3 in the morning. CJ drove effortlessly, her mind on autopilot as she navigated through the down town streets, on to winding side streets until she saw the big black gate. She wasn't surprised not to see a car in sight, who else visited a cemetery at 3 am?

Tears flooded down her face, as she parked her car, her head lights beaming on the grey stone in front of her. The name seemed to jump off and stab her in the heart. More memories of that tragic night in her mind. The screaming sounds, the breaking glass, the bending of metal, and the metallic smell of blood in the air.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I told you not to! I told you, I told you!" CJ screamed as she pounded her fists against her steering wheel. "It wasn't my fucking fault! I told you! It wasn't my fault!"

CJ could feel her lungs feeling tighter and tighter, as it seemed the car was caving in on itself. She put her hands on the glass and the roof, as she was trying to keep it from coming in on her. Before she realized what she was doing, she pushed her door open and ran out of the car. She ran to the grey stone and fell to her knees in front of it.

"You did this! It was all you! You told me to get in that car! You knew what would happen to me!" She screamed as sobs racked her body. CJ hadn't cried like this, she hadn't allowed herself a moment to break. She was thrown around from place to place, to treatment centers and juvenile detention center, and now back in the same school that her beloved boyfriend walked the halls of.

CJ looked up, and saw the same smiling picture of the boy she loved. She gently ran her fingers over the picture and closed her eyes. She picked herself up off the ground and staggered back to the car. She grabbed her phone and called the one person who wouldn't judge her. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Olivia Baker wrapped her jacket around her, as she walked over to CJ sat in her car. Jordan watched as her sister bravely faced the one person she hated more than herself.

"Hey. . ." Olivia said quietly. She looked at CJ, who's cheeks were red with tear stains, "I had the same reaction, my first time out here. It just felt. . . too real being here, and seeing. . .that" She said pointing to the headstone. CJ didn't say anything, but stare straight a head, "Listen, if you're fucking high right now, I can't be here-"

"He was driving that night." CJ answered, "Everyone thought it was me, thanks to your brother, Aiyden, Asher, and Leila. Kordell, he would've told the truth, taken the blame, but he wasn't there."

"That doesn't make any sense. If he was driving he would've been... he was thrown from the car." Olivia said in realization, "Why didn't you tell anyone!?"

"Everyone already saw me as the trouble maker sense that night at Asher's party. I was so overcome by guilt for making Kordell drive me home after..." CJ paused as her voice cracked and Olivia hugged the broke girl. CJ cried into Olivias shoulder, as the Baker girl tried to comfort her.

"You could've plead not guilty, could've explained what actually happened." Olivia said, "Your truth deserves to be heard."

"How do you explain what the most popular guy in school did to you? I am nobody, but the girl who deserves to be locked in a prison cell for the rest of her life."

Olivia sighed and looked around the quiet cemetery, "At least let us take you to our house. You can spend the night-"

"Your mother sees me as the girl who killed someone and almost killed her daughter and son within a 12 hour time period. It doesn't take a genius to know I'm not welcome at your house anymore."

"Then let Jordan take you home. Please CJ, you're in no shape to drive home." Olivia pleaded. CJ reluctantly agreed and Olivia nodded. She walked back to her car and opened the door to tell her brother the new change of plans, "Hey, can you drive her home?"

"What? No." Jordan said looking at the white mustang in front of him.

"Jordan, she's a mess. She can't drive home." Olivia pleaded with her twin. Jordan shook his head, and got out of the car.

"You owe me." He grumbled as he walked up to CJ's car. The Jackson girl was already sitting in the passenger seat, when Jordan climbed in the driver's seat. He didn't even look at her, but started up the car, and began to leave the cemetery.

"There a reason for this mess?" Jordan asked her. CJ didn't say anything, but let the silent tears run down her face. Jordan sighed, realizing how harsh his words were, "Listen, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." CJ whispered. The rest of the drive to CJ's house was quiet. When they arrived at the Beverly Hills mansion, her parents ran out into the driveway, still in their pajamas. Her mother had pulled on her pink silk robe, and still had her silk wrap over her hair.

CJ had barely gotten out of the car, when Pauline wrapped her daughter in a tight hug. Anthony sighed and looked over at Jordan Baker who climbed out of the Mustang. The Jackson brothers, and Roman were standing in the front doorway, watching their parents dote over CJ.

"Thank god," Pauline sighed, and released her daughter from the hug, "You're grounded, so fucking grounded."

CJ looked at her orange Nike Jordan 1's. Pauline was pissed, and they all could tell. She never cursed in front of her children.

"Inside. Please." Pauline said to her daughter and CJ nodded. She quietly moved past her mother and into the house. Colton pulled his sister into a hug, when she walked through the door.

"Are you okay? Under anything?" Cobe asked CJ.

"No. I promise you guys, I'm not on anything. I just want a bath, and go to bed." CJ said and all the boys backed off, letting her walk up to her room.

"Why is Baker here?" Carver commented, seeing his mom and dad talking to Jordan.

"Who even knows. Let's go." Roman said, grabbing his boyfriend's hand and leading him away from the window.

Cobe and Colton stood still, watching Jordan talk to their parents. They didn't trust Jordan, not after all their sister had gone through. Cobe and Colton were basically security for CJ, they were not going to let Jordan Baker waltz back into their lives so easily.

Pauline watched her daughter walk into the house, and then turned around to talk to Jordan. The young man stood with his hands in his pockets, nervous to be back in the presence of the Jackson family.

"Thank you, Jordan, for driving my daughter home." Pauline said, folding her arms across her chest, "Where was she?"

"Cemetery. She actually called Olivia, and Olivia wanted me to come, for back up. She was worried CJ was high. . ."

"Was she? Did you see anything?" Anthony asked, pressing the young man.

"No, sir, I didn't. Olivia said she didn't see anything either." Jordan responded.

Anthony sighed and looked around, "It's pretty late. Why don't you stay here tonight? The boys wouldn't mind having you here."

"Thank you Mr. Jackson." Jordan said and walked behind Anthony and Pauline into the house.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Cobe and Colton saw their parents and Jordan walk towards the house, they took off running into the living room, to seem like they weren't spying. Cobe turned the TV on and Colton pulled a blanket over his head. Pauline looked at her boys and crossed her arms over her chest, she did not believe for a second that those boys weren't spying.

"Uhem!" Pauline cleared her throat, and both boys looked up at her, "Jordan is staying the night, and I don't want to hear any grief from you two. He's staying in the guest house, Colton, you'll show him the-"

"No! Mom, I can't, abosuletly can't!" Colton said standing up and arguing with his mother. He couldn't be around Jordan, He hated Jordan Baker. Pauline gave him a glare and Colton stood down, "Fine. But no promises the Baker's won't put a target on me next."

Jordan stood awkwardly in the kitchen, hearing every word that came out of Colton's mouth. Chris instructed Colton to walk Jordan over to the guest house, and show him around. Colton didn't say a word but turned towards the door. Jordan thanked the Jacksons before following the twin boy. Colton opened the white barn-style cottage house and flipped the light on. A bright chandelier lit the living room.

"You've been here, and don't act like you haven't. I know the shit you and my sister used to do here. I'm too disgusted to take a black light and look around." Colton sneered and set the keys to the cottage on the marble counter top. "Whatever room you use, just tell me and I'll fix it."

"Hey, thanks Colton, I know you don't like me-"

"No, I fucking hate you. If it was up to me, I'd kick your ass to the curb and not think twice. You, Jordan Baker, are scum on the bottom of my shoe, you can fool a lot of people but you can't fool me." Colton said and pushed past Jordan towards the door, "Hope you sleep well."

[lovelyirony]

The Only Thing You Absolutely Have to Know is the Location of a Library

It wasn���t that Thor wanted to take Loki and Hela to the library. But Hela literally can’t drive--got her license taken away, suspended actually--and Loki was an incredibly angsty teenager who read his weird dark magic books and talked about how stupid Thor was. Thor could easily ditch them, go to the pool, and have actual fun. 

But no, he was in charge of them for a month because mom and dad were on a trip around Europe. 

Hela and Loki were the weird siblings that were insanely similar, but also hated each other deeply. To the point of agreeing that they would never visit one another, and Loki would not be attending her funeral. (He was still in the will--not sure why Hela had a will already planned, but he also didn’t want to ask her why.) They both liked the library, however, and went once a week. 

Thor accompanied them to make sure Hela didn’t threaten anyone and Loki didn’t hack into an old man’s computer and crash it. Again. He’s kind of mad that he has to stay, but there are a ton of books he hasn’t read yet. 

And there’s Bruce. The only library employee that Hela and Loki marginally like. Bruce wears glasses, always wears a baggy cardigan, and is cute. Thor’s a sucker for nerds, or so Hela tells him. (And damn her, she may be right.) 

Bruce helps him find books, talks to him about what Loki or Hela may like, and they actually bond over the fact that they both know a lot of the same people. The fact that they both knew Tony Stark was weird, but mainly because Thor never imagined that he would ever actually know the man. 

So yeah. There might be a little bit of a crush. And maybe Thor gives Bruce funny librarian memes. And researches the problems of the job so he can successfully vent to someone who gets it. And maybe Bruce found Thor a copy of a book from his childhood that he thought had been partially a dream. 

But what the hell were they going to do about it? 

Apparently, nothing. 

“This fucking sucks,” Hela says, completely bored. “They talk for hours while we’re here, and nothing has come out of it.” 

“You could sabotage it,” Loki whispers, rapidly folding a piece of paper to make an origami dick. (He’s been having a feud with this girl in the fiction section, it’s so weird.) 

“I suppose I could,” Hela mentions, checking her nail polish. “But what would be the fun in that? You know dad wants Thor to come home with a nice girl, not a nice boy. Besides, Bruce is nice. Do you really want to ruin his life? Do you want Thor to be angry with you?” Loki shrugs. 

“He’s not the worst when mad.” 

“He figured out how to rewire my hair dryer when I made fun of Valkyrie, and I know that he’s messed with your games online.” This was true; Thor was petty as shit, and Loki and Hela were no match in that respect. 

“Want to get them together then, dear sister?” 

“Of course.” 

This task proves harder than originally thought. Thor refuses to even fancy the chance of getting a date. Something about how Bruce understands more about molecular fusion or something. Bruce is a library employee, and requires more finesse in opening up to Resident Goths Loki and Hela. 

So Loki gets a summer job. Frigga, of course, is thrilled. Loki doesn’t actually mind the work, pulls harmless pranks on patrons, and actually warms up to Bruce. “He is not the worst,” Loki says with a shrug. “Makes excellent tea.” 

In this time, Hela insists that she has summer homework to attend to, requiring far more trips to the library. “I wish you hadn’t gotten your license suspended,” Thor grumbles as she snatches the aux cord and starts playing metal. “Your music taste leaves something to be desired.” 

“And your hippie soft beach rock is any better,” she mutters. “Besides, you like the library. You enjoy reading, and you enjoy the librarian.” Thor splutters and nearly swerves into a curb. “Are we sure I should be the one with a license suspension?” 

“Considering you threatened to kill someone and committed arson, yes.” She rolls her eyes and gets out of the car. 

Bruce is incredibly helpful in getting her materials ready for 15th century art, gothic architecture, and....yarn? Why the hell does she need all these? Thor isn’t even going to question schools anymore. They’re so weird. 

Bruce talks to Thor about new schooling, what the library is doing, and a bake sale fund they’re doing. “Loki actually suggested it,” he says softly. “Said that it would be a good idea.” 

Look. Thor is good at a lot of things. He is. One thing he is good at: baking. He can bake anything and make it a.) taste good, and b.) look good. 

So of course he signs up for it and plans on making ten different desserts. Which is highly stressful and maybe he’s worried about disappointing Bruce but who’s noticing!? Really, who is?! 

“Thor why have you been icing that cupcake for ten minutes.” 

“Loki, shut up. I need concentration.” 

“It’s a library bake sale, not a delicate little experiment.” 

“I just...I want them to look nice. What, you wanna eat shitty-looking cupcakes?” 

“Noted.” 

The bake sale is held outside the library, which is currently being manned by Loki--probably a bad decision, but it was either let him be in charge for a couple hours or have him scare children and haggling with suburban moms--and so Bruce and Thor are in charge of the bake sale with a couple volunteers. 

He’s wearing a t-shirt. 

A good-fitting t-shirt. 

Thor is going to kill Loki, who casually mentions that he’s going inside and Bruce will be out shortly. He didn’t mention the casual clothes. Bruce looks criminally good. Like model good. Thor might be a tad biased, but he sure as hell isn’t wrong. 

Bruce is sweet to all the kids, making sure they get the best cookie from the pile, or that they’re getting the gluten-free cookies that taste “awesome because I baked them Tiff, and do you really think I made them taste awful? Be serious.” And maybe Thor is bumping into him and laughing and having a good time and wants to date--

oh. 

Well. That’s unfortunate. 

[thislifeilive93]

Welcome to my Rock Bottom

I started this blog a little over two years ago. More for myself than for anyone else. I suffer from major anxiety so after reading countless non fictions about women in their twenties, I thought that maybe writing out my life may help. I have to say I fail majorly when it comes to keeping up with it... but I guess that’s all thanks to the mess I call my life. Sometimes I don’t have time to sit down and type it out. Well I am back again, this time because I am pretty sure I have hit another rock bottom. 

“Rock Bottom” is such a funny place to me. We go through so much in life and we think that our life is ending, then it gets a tiny bit better, but then you hit “rock bottom”. A new level of low in your life where you just don’t see yourself escaping from and this time always seems to be far worst from the last. Maybe it is our inability to truly get over our past where we sweep it under the rug and it just adds to the pile. Every time we get sucked back into our dark place it’s just that much messier. Who knows... but for the fact that I spent last night staring at a full bottle of pills, it’s safe to say this is officially my rock bottom. 

Now how did I get to the point where fourteen pain killers seemed like the best solution. Well that gets broken down into different segments which I will do my best to explain. My goal for this post is to not make you feel sorry for me or to strive for attention. My goal is to hopefully work through some pieces of my messy life in hopes that I feel a little relief. Also writing this for any twenty something year old who may be going through similar life situations and for them to know they are not alone because lets face it... those of us who don’t have it together are the rule and those who do are the exception (or they are just lying out of their ass to seem like they do). 

Work and Education: 

Okay I am going to start with the part of my life that could actually be worse but still kind of sucks. So truth factor I have yet to finish my bachelors degree. I have about one semester left. Which includes two spanish classes and then three extra sociology courses. Now don’t get me wrong the Sociology courses would be super easy for me to take and pass with flying colors. That is now that I am not stressing over working two jobs (a department store coordinator and a night time bartender). However the spanish is what kills me, if I don’t want to learn something I struggle. I can’t focus let alone memorize all the words and conjugations. So pretty much just having a pity party for myself which is why I am currently stuck babysitting not only juvenile delinquents but also the staff in which I work with. You see most of them are not trained in the field and have no idea how to work with these type of children, or just children in general. Yes I understand this part isn’t that bad and I still have the control to change but it still plays a role. 

Love:

Okay lets move on to the next section of my life... love. When I started this blog I was in a four year relationship with a man that I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Which honestly looking back I don’t know how because apart from us having a pretty good friendship, there were some pretty clear signs that we were not meant to be even early on. After that I met a man who I wasn’t in love with more in lust with that ended up being physically and verbally abusive which lead to a restraining order... so pretty good choice there Sarah. Then I spent a short time falling for a man who was clearly still in love with his crazy ex, again.. go me. And now... well now I am in love with a man who is my best friend. I have never spent so many nights at the lake sharing every little piece of myself. I don’t like talking about my past and so if I do it’s never in detail but with him it’s different. There is a connection that runs so much deeper than the physical stuff it’s, mentally too. When I say he’s my person it’s because I mean it. However there’s a catch. One he still has his ex, and then some. Meaning he’s very good at entertaining and not settling down, which you can’t hold against a person when they’re being open about it. So I gave up on the idea of spending a life with him a long time ago. Never the less the pain that goes along with loving some one who actually understands you, listens to you, is there for you, excepts you for you, and you are so god damn attracted to. It is the worst kind of heart break I have ever been through. I constantly relate the way our relationship to the Greys episode where Lexi says “ I love you, I will always love you. But I don’t want to love you, I want to be happy. And if you keep pulling me I’ll come back to you”. Yeah I felt that shit in my soul and nothing has ever been more true. 

Money: 

Money in your twenties is almost non existent especially for the twenty to twenty-five year range unless you have been blessed with wealth. Which yes I am probably bitter about the fact that some people are handed money but never the less it wasn’t their choice the sons of bitches just got lucky. I am not poor, I can pay my bills and have extra spending cash however my problem is I procrastinate. I suck at being an adult. I forget about things until the last min which has caused me to lose my car once (almost twice). Lost service on my phone a few times, only for a few hours each time. And most recently gotten my license suspended. Don’t be like me, because I know again this is a portion of my life I can control but I failed. Miserably. Now I am frantically trying to figure out how to pay for my tickets, get my car fixed because the noise I once ignored is louder than my radio goes, my rent, and my car payment (Which I also forgot to make last month.. I hate myself). I could definitely be in a more stable place but my anxiety gets so worked up I literally stop doing everything which makes things so much worse. I slightly resent my mother for not teaching me how to be better at this part of growing up but I am far more to blame.   

Personal: 

This portion as much as I want to be completely honest about, I can’t be yet. Because apparently I have someone who has it out for me and tries to blow up things by finding shit on my social media, so if that person is reading this fuck off. Never the less this part, the part I can’t share is the biggest cause to me hitting rock bottom. It’s not even the situation itself, it’s the people who surround the situation who make it impossible to breathe. I have never been put through such a hell and been manipulated to the point that I had someone tell me that my life choices have made them want to take their own life. When you have a person tell you that there is no escape from feeling like you are the biggest piece of shit. True or not. The battle in your head tells you that you are worth nothing and that clearly the world would be better off without you. Which is what lead me to the place I reached last night. Laying, staring at a bottle of pain killers. Counting to fourteen over and over thinking I had fourteen chances of taking the pain away and making the world a better place by me not being here. Fourteen chances to make all of my problem go away for good, problems that I am in complete control of but I can’t seem to fix. 

So today I am typing, typing all of this out in hopes that I can come up with a plan to save myself. One that also includes handing over the pills and getting rid of the possibly to completely lose myself. Today I try to find a way to finally fight for myself. Even though I feel like nothing I know I am not a terrible person and that it is not my fault that another person wants to push them self to the edge. My choices and my beliefs are not so wrong that I should feel guilty for them. I have been through hell and back. This is so small compared to some obstacles but non the less I know I hit a new “Rock Bottom” because I feel as though I have to save everyone else before I save myself which is not true. I can’t pull someone out of their dark place when I am stuck in mine. 

Being twenty something is hard, but we just have to continue to push through and know we are not alone. I repeat this over and over to convince myself to believe it, even if right now I might not. 

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellow [3]

“Hey, Bull, there’s a salad outside looking for you,” Bull glances down.

“Sera,” He says as the Asura points at the direction of the main gates, “You can’t call Sylvari salads. Those are hurtful words. We’ve been through this.”

Sera snorts, rolling her eyes, “They don’t even know it’s an insult. Besides, you call Dalish a cabbage head all the time.”

“At her specific request,” Bull says.

“Whatever,” Sera shrugs, trudging off back towards where she left Dorian watching one of their experiments, “Anyway, the salad at the gate looks a few leaves short of a full mouth. Good luck with that, fur ball.”

“Someone’s going to punt you straight into a destroyer nest one day,” Bull says, walking past her.

“You’d catch me,” Sera points out.

“Or I’d be the one kicking you,” He calls back.

There is, indeed, a Sylvari woman standing by Fort Trinity’s gates, making small talk with a pair of Sylvari guards.

“This is Lavellan,” One of the guards says, the three of them turning to face him as he approaches. “Our sister is freshly awoken from her dream and has been sent here by Mother.”

“Mother sent me,” Lavellan nods in agreement with what the guard says. “But first she sent me to the Master of your Order.” She holds out a letter that’s sealed by the Whisper’s seal. “And they told me this is where I can find you.”

“You were looking for me in specific?” Bull asks, cutting the seal on the letter with his claw and quickly opening it to skim the contents. It seems legitimate. It’s in proper code and everything.

“You were in her dream,” The other guard says.

“Mother knew of you through Cole,” Lavellan says, “And told me I could find you here.”

“Alright,” Bull internally groans. The letter is basically the Master laughing at him because he always gets shit luck and attracts the weird ones. But her cause for being here is legitimate. She isn’t lying - so probably not Nightmare court or anything. “What were you looking for me for?”

Lavellan turns towards the other two Sylvari who shrug at her. Lavellan looks back at him.

“Because you were in my dream,” She says.

“And?”

She blinks, “And?”

“And was there anything you needed me to do? Anything you needed to do with me? Something?”

The two Sylvari continue to shake their heads at her.

“No,” She says slowly, “You were in my dream is all. I just knew I had to find you when I woke. So now I have and that’s that. Is there supposed to be something else? That wasn’t in the dream.”

-

“I saw the Iron Bull in the evidence lock up room building a model barn,” Sutherland says, “Is there a reason for that?”

“Oh,” Aclassi looks up from the file he was checking over for Trevelyan, “It’s his wife’s birthday this weekend and he’s building her a toy barn.”

“He’s married?” Sutherland gapes. The man is always going out drinking and - well. Sleeping around.

Sutherland is suddenly horrified and worried about what sort of situation he’s stumbled on and why no one else seems to care about it.

“Yeah, about five years now,” Aclassi nods, leaning back in his chair. “It was more of a benefits thing, really. She wanted to adopt her foster brother so he didn’t get back in the system so they got married so they’d look more stable. And also she needed insurance pretty bad - she got into an accident and they had to amputate - and Orlais didn’t accept her paperwork at the time. She’s a Marcher.”

“Isn’t that some kind of fraud?” Sutherland asks.

“Oh, no. Don’t get me wrong. The two are damn mad for each other,” Aclassi snorts, “It’s just that neither of them believe in marriage. They’d have happily been living together in domestic goodness for the rest of their lives without ever putting anything down on record. Hey, Chief. How’s the barn going?”

“It has fucking wheels, Aclassi,” Sutherland squeaks. For someone so large he moves so quietly. Bull drops onto his chair, glaring at Aclassi’s head. “You bought the damn thing to mess with me, didn’t you? I just wanted a barn. It has wheels. And a fucking handle. What the hell, Aclassi?”

“Should’n’t have given me such creative license, Chief.”

Bull groans and rubs a hand over his face, “The Boss comes home from her trip tonight, this thing needs to be done and in my car by then because I sure as hell can’t work on the thing at home.”

“You call your wife the Boss?” Sutherland asks.

“She’s the Police Commissioner,” Bull snorts, “What else would I call her?”

-

“Cheif, she’s waiting for you in your office,” Aclassi says pointing his thumb at the frosted glass door. “I tried to get her to wait outside, but you know how she is.”

Bull nods, “Thanks for the warning, Krem. You know what she wants?”

“Said she’d only discuss it with you,” Krem says. “Told her we’ve got our cases booked. But she insisted.”

“Sounds like her,” Bull snorts, “Let’s see what she wants.”

When he opens the door to his office, he sees Lavellan sitting at his desk with a look that means trouble.

Bull met Lavellan about four or five years ago when she was framed for the murder of the Divine. Her lawyers hired the Charger’s Detective Agency to help clear her name. A legal mess and half an all out war later, Lavellan’s name was cleared of that murder and she became a P.I. of her own and launched a personal war on crime and injustice this side of death.

“I need your help,” Lavellan says. Bull closes the door.

“Out of the chair,” He says and Lavellan pouts as she stands up and perches on the desk. “Cut it out with the look.”

Bull’s a damn sucker for that look and she knows it. The pouty lips and sad cow eyes and the legs that can go on forever. Lavellan’s got the look that means trouble down and she knows just how to use it. That look’s taken ten years off his life, and that’s just this past four months.

“You’re wearing lipstick. Who’s is it?”

“Who says it isn’t mine?” Lavellan asks.

“Last I checked you didn’t own any,” Bull replies, tossing his jacket over the back of his chair and taking a seat.

“And when did you check?”

“This morning,” He answers dryly as Lavellan slides onto his lap, curling up close, “When I was looking for my aftershave because you keep throwing our shit together to annoy me. Who’s is it?”

“I don’t do it to annoy you, I do it because I don’t like things on the bathroom countertop. It’s Skinner’s.”

“Skinner owns lipstick?” And then, “Skinner wears make up?”

And then -

“Tell me that my top muscle isn’t using human blood to make make up.”

Lavellan gives him an annoyed look.

He squeezes her hip.

“What is it? I’ve got a four o’clock coming in that needs an update on their case.”

“I’ve found that back-stabbing asshole who tried to cut off my arm,” Lavellan says, “And I think that nationalistic asshole is going to try it again.”

Bull stares.

“Help me catch him and beat him to an inch of his life?” Lavellan flutters her eyelashes just like de Fer and Leliana taught her. “Please?”

Bull lets out a long groan and leans back in the chair. Lavellan tugs at his suspenders.

“Please?”

“Krem,” Bull calls out, “Push all our cases to the auxiliary team. Clear the schedules. We’re taking Lavellan’s case.”

“But Chief, we just bought a new air conditioning unit,” Krem yells back because Lavellan’s cases may be interesting but they also pay in actual lint and cracker crumbs.

“Suck on some ice,” Bull yells back, “We’ve got a genocidal asshole to catch.”