#n in 3 that argument works for nate still

[oh-meow-swirls]

weird how in 1 it's like. kind of implied you have to pay to enter the museum. but after that they just. don't bother-

[xenyasplacex]

BABY TRAPPED PART 2

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!OC

Summary: Chris is in a toxic relationship and the only thing keeping him there is his daughter.

warning- Toxic relationship, Miserable Chris, Shouting, Abuse, Physical Abuse, emotional abuse, Talk of isolation, crying

A/N : Soooooo, it’s been a while! see my dumbass thought i posted this a few days ago but turns out i just saved it to drafts 😍😍😍

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, REPOSTED OR TRANSLATED

Part 1 <—> Part 3

Things had changed in Chris’ household. Chris knew that through his life there were going to be times where he had to sacrifice certain things he thought he couldn't live without if he wanted their marriage to work and so far he had sacrificed a lot. Sometimes he thought about how younger Chris would look at him now. He had let this woman completely take over his life. First he had to sacrifice his friendship with nate who was a ‘bad influence’ on him, then he had to sacrifice his relationship with his parents who were ‘brainwashing’ him, then he had to sacrifice his friendship with Madi, Tara, Quen and Madison Beer because they were all ‘flirting’ with Chris and disrespecting his wife, he had to sacrifice his relationship with his older brother Justin because ‘he took to much of Chris’ time’. So, so, so many sacrifices had been made to make Aaliyah happy and yet here she still was, making his life miserable.

The couple were planning to move. That's what started the whole ordeal. The couple had decided to pack up and move to San Diego about a year ago and they only had 3 more days until they were gone for good. Well, to be completely honest it was more of Aaliyah yelling and Chris being too scared to do anything to stop it. Apparently she wanted to be closer to her dad and step mom which confused Chris because from what he knew, she hasn't spoken to her father since she told him she was pregnant. He still remembered when he told his brothers. Matt started crying on the spot which really did shake Chris to his core. Matt always said he hated Chris and thought he knew it was a joke he still didn’t think that Matt would be so distraught over Chris Leaving. They still planned to do Youtube. They planned to rotate, one week they would be in Los Angeles and the other they would be in San Diego. It would be tough but they had no other option. The whole argument started when Chris had stated he wasn't sure if he liked the dark brown wood for the floor that Aaliyah had chosen in front of their interior designer. He wasn't rude or malicious, he was simply voicing his opinion, but it was enough to have Aaliyah beating him for “embarrassing her.”

“You ought to wrap that wrist up.” Aaliyah said from the doorway of their living room staring at her husband who was hunched over their couch, trying to wipe the remaining blood from his mouth. He looked up at his wife with nothing but pure terror. The tyrant was back.

“Relax, i'm not here to hurt you,” Aaliayh chuckled as she approached him. Laughing, she was laughing. How could she be laughing? 

Aaliyah sat next to Chris examining his face and Chris simply froze. She had done this to him. She was the one to hurt him. She was the one who bruised him, she was the one who caused him to be bleeding out and now here she was, sat next to him like a loving wife. She leaned forward and abruptly brought her hand up to his face. By pure muscle memory Chris jumped back, preparing for the next blow to his already weak body. She laughed. Again. She laughed at his pain. 

“I'm not going to hurt you silly,” She laughed, “I'm just here to clean you up.”

Her smile was so deceiving. With that smile she could light up an entire room, she could have bored you outta your mind listening to her ramble about the most useless things but you would stay there and listen in the hopes of even catching a glimpse of that smile. She is so addictive yet she was poisonous. Like a hard drug, something you can't seem to live without even if its slowly killing you. 

After about half an hour she had fully cleaned Chris’ cuts and bruises and had kissed him so many times her lips were puffy and she was starting to feel slightly light headed. It was late, Adriana had been asleep for hours at this point and Chris was slowly starting to slip into unconsciousness

“I'm so sorry Chris, you know I love you right?” She said as she rolled on top of him in their shared bed.

“I know.” Chris said, not bothering to look at her, instead he stayed fixated on the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the same thoughts as always racing through his mind.

How did he end up here?

How could he let this happen?

Why couldn't he just man up and take his child and leave?

Why couldn't he protect his own child?

Why couldn't he tell his brothers?

Why couldn't he te-

“Chris!” Aaliyah yelled as she sat up, looking at him slightly agitated.

“Huh?”

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No.”

Alliyah simply rolled her eyes before getting off him, “And im not good enough for you to listen to as usual. Some excuse of a husband you are.” She grumbled angrily.

Chris knew he had to deescalate whatever it was that was brewing or he could end up sleeping in his car tonight, so he sat up, resting against their head rest before picking Aaliyah up slightly and sitting her on his lap. He then kissed all over her face down to her neck until she was giggling uncontrollably.

“Chris stop!” She laughed, not pushing him away though.

“I'm sorry, it's not that I wasn't listening to you, I'm just so tired. Tell me what you were saying again, I promise you've got my full attention”.  Chris said before resting his head on her chest.

It was moments like this when Chris thought maybe things werent os bad. He was here with his wife, in their joint bed, kissing and laughing, enjoying each other presence, basking in joy and lo-

“I think it's about time we cut off your brothers.”

Moment ended.

“What?” He asked, whipping his head up. He was shocked. Him and his brothers were a package deal. It had been all of them or none of them for so long. His brothers were something he could rely on because they were countistant. You can’t exactly stop being a triplet after all, and now here she was. Getting rid of the one piece of consistency he had through tough times.

“Chris, you are far too reliant on them, I mean 3 weeks ago we got into a little argument and you picked up our child and spent the night with them. That's not normal Chris.”

It wasn't a little argument. She hurt their daughter. She hurt his daughter.

“Listen to me Chris,” Aaliyah started again, adjusting herself slightly so she was straddling him, “Chris I love you, I’m doing this because I love you. I mean what type of example would that set for Adriana? You need to learn to be strong on your own. Not with Nick or Matt holding your hand through life.”

Chris was silent, looking down at his lap through the whole speech.

“Chris, I am all you need. You don't need them, the fact that you've cut everyone else off and have been just fine just proves all you need is me, you don't need anyone else Chris i promise you.” She said sweetly before pressing a kiss to his lips which isn't reciprocated.

“I just… I need to think about it.”

“What?” Aaliyah asked, sitting up and starting to get off Chris once again.

“Those are my brothers Ali, I can't just get rid of them.” “Yes you can!” Aaliyah exclaimed. “Chris when we leave in 3 days you are to block their numbers and get rid of them or I promise you, you will never see Adriana again. If me and Adi aren't good enough for you then you don't deserve us at all. You don't need them Chris but you need me and you are a coward and a cheating bitch for even thinking you can have all of us to yourself.”

“I've never cheated on you Ali…” Chris tried to protest but she cut him off.

“What, you really think I'm that stupid? All the times you ‘go to your brother's house to film’ you think i don't know you're out being a whore. You dont think i know your out there fucking any bitch who comes within a 5 foot radius of you. You don't think I know? You're pathetic.”  She screamed at him. Chris couldn't even say anything. The claims were so far-fetched that he didn't even know how to defend himself. “Get the fuck out of this room Chris.” She said finally before turning over.

“Ali I didn't ev-” 

“Chris get the fuck out of this room!” Aaliyah screamed again. When Chris didn't move, frozen in pure astonishment she started punching him in the head.

The first punch was enough to snap him out of this trans, the second punch was enough to kick off a heavy migraine and the ones that followed were enough to add more fuel to this fire. 

“Get out! Get out! Get Out!” she screamed again and again, landing punch after punch. 

Chris quickly scrambled to his feet and ran for their bedroom door, trying to avoid the objects that she was hurling at him. When he finally got out of the room he just stood there for a while taking in what had just happened. He had to get rid of his brothers. His shoulder to cry in, his light at the end of the tunnel. He had to get rid of them. Slowly Chris found himself sitting on the floor, knees to his chest simply sobbing. He had to get rid of his brothers.

He had to get rid of his brothers.

“Nick stop!” Chris laughed as he watched his brother throw Adriana up in the air before catching the giggling girl again.

“I can't stop, i'm not gonna be able to see my niece any time i want anymore, i have to take in every moment i can.” He said before resting Adriana on his hip.

“I still can’t believe you're actually leaving.” Matt said softly, looking at his triplet brother. 

“Chris can you please tell him you'll call him everyday. I keep telling him we're still gonna talk all the time but the kid just won't listen.” Nick laughed, throwing Adriana into the air again. Chris’ smile faltered a little at that.

It had been 2 days since his argument with Aaliyah and she was still set on Chris cutting his brothers off. The only reason he was even allowed to come and see them was because he had promised that today would be the day he cut them off.

“Hey Adi, why don’t you we let Aunty Sunday put Nemo on for you the living room huh?”

Sunday was Matt’s girlfriend who Adriana absolutely adored. He watched as his daughter toddled into the other room before looking at the confused faces of his brothers.

“I need to talk to you two.” Chris stated bluntly before taking a deep breath and just letting out. It’s now or never and though he preferred never, he cared for his daughter too much to let her go without a fight.

“I love you guys. I really do. I love you with everything in me. You’re my best friends and I genuinely don’t know where I would be without the two of you but I just. I just think I need some time. Some time away from being a triplet to just think about my wife and my child. I just, I need time, you know?”

They didn’t know and they didn’t get it.

“Time? Like how long are we talking, like a week, maybe two?” Matt asked, Chris couldn’t bear this, he couldn’t even look at him. “Or like maybe a month?”

“I was thinking more like a few years,” Chris replied softly.

There it is. The bomb was dropped.

It was silent. Nobody said a word. Everyone was too shocked to even comprehend what had just been said. A break? For a few years? How does one simply decide that they need a break from being a triplet and how do they decide that need a break for so long?

Nick especially wasnt having it. Nobody optionally has a break from being brothers. Especially not triplets.

“What did Aaliyah out you on to this?” Nick spat with nothing but anger in his tone.

Chris and Matt were stunned but for different reasons. Matt because he couldn’t believe his brother would actually voice an accusation like that, and Chris because of how accurate it was.

“Wh-, what are you talking about Nick.”

“Don’t play games with me Chris. You don’t think we’ve seen the difference? You suddenly can’t make it to hang out or you suddenly can’t reply to messages after a certain time?” Nick screamed as he stood up off his couch.

“Nick I don’t know wha-” Chris tried again before being interrupted again.

“And I’ve seen the bruises little one!” Nick yelled again.

Caught.

Chris was stunned. They couldn’t know. If they found out they would only see him as week and unfit to be a father.

“What the hell are you talking about Nicolas!” Chris shouted as well, taking a step forward.

Nick rolled his eyes before grabbing Adriana’s baby bag, picking up 2 clean baby wipes and quickly coming at Chris. Chris flinched hard but that didn’t stop Nick from swiping the wipe across Chris’ face, revealing the concealer he was wearing and a purple bruise that had formed on his face.

“Yeah then what’s this?” Nick yelled showing his younger brother the wipe.

“Nick,” Matt interjected, trying to calm everyone down, “let’s all just take a deep breath okay?”

“What the fuck Nick, how dare you accuse my wife of something so evil! I fell down the stairs a few days ago! That’s were the bruise is from you sick fuck.” Chris yelled back.

“Oh spare me!” Nick replied. “So what happens when something happens to that little girl huh? What happens when she won’t let her have friends or go on playdates or go to the park? what happens when she isolates her daughter the same way she’s isolating you!”

“You know what, this is exactly why I can’t be around you. You’re all delusional and this sort of environment is not good for my child.” Chris yelled, picking up Adriana's baby bag and walking out of the room to grab Adriana.

He walked through the room, seeing Adriana and Sunday playing together. Without saying a word he picked his daughter up and started heading toward the door. “Chris? Chris what happened to your face?” Sunday tried to ask before hearing her own boyfriend running through the room.

“Chris! Chris stop!” Matt yelled while chasing after his brother who didn’t even turn around.

Chris walked straight to the car before gently putting Adriana into her car seat while Matt tried to calm him down.

“Please Chris, Nick was just trying to help, he loves you.” Matt tried to reason but Chris simply wasn’t having it.

“Nick he just accused my wife of beating me I can’t just le-”

“Chris!” Matt yelled, starting to get annoyed. “Chris we love you. More than anything and he’s just hurt that you’re leaving us. I mean a break? Come on Chris.”

That did make Chris feel bad. He always had his brothers. He wouldn’t be where he was now if not for them and now he was leaving them. Chris just felt so awful.

“I’m sorry Matt, I just… I just have to.” Chris replied softly looking down.

It was silent for a minute, then Matt spoke up. “Okay, and when this break ends we and Nick will be waiting for you, because we love you.”

With that Matt brought Chris into a hug. A proper hug. That was all Chris needed for the silent tears to come crumbling down. He was sure how long they were in that hug for before he felt another pair of area wrap around him.

“ I love you Chris, you have to know that.” Nick said, voice thick with tears.

“I know and I’m sorry. I love you guys too, both of you, so much” Chris said pulling away from the hug.

Matt then made his way over to the back of the car where Adriana had been buckled in.

“Hey baby, it looks like I won’t be seeing you for a while. You rember your Uncle Matt okay?” Matt told her making her giggle a little, not fully understanding the situation.

“And don’t forget your Uncle Nick either.” Nick interjected.

“Okay I promise I won’t. Pinky promise.” The little girl promised holding out her pinky fingers for both men to intertwine their fingers with.

The two said their goodbyes to their niece before shutting the door and looking back at Chris.

“Look, I don’t know what type of arrangement you and Ali have, but you protect that little girl or I will, you hear me?” Nick warned him.

Chris simply nodded, too emotional to trust himself to let out any sort of words. 

“I’m sorry, and I love you guys,” Chris said one last time.

“We love you too Chris. You take care of yourself okay?” Matt said one last time.

With that Chris got into his car and started to reverse out of his brothers drive way while his two brothers watched. Once he had fully reversed, he caught one last glance at his brothers, noticing the tears streaming down their faces. He wanted to stop the car, run out and tell them everything but he simply couldn’t. Instead he gave them one last smile before driving off. Now he was fully alone. Nobody to talk to, nobody to help him. He had nobody at all.

And with that, one single tear swam down his face.

TAG LIST:

@betasturniolo

@mattsbitchh

@nicksloverrr

BONUS SCENE

Nick just stood there in his drive way, tears running down his face. “Now what do we do.”

With that Matt took his phone out, going to ‘find my’ where a moving air tag was displayed. Nick’s eyes widened slightly, realising exactly what Nick had done.

“Now we go and help our brother.”

A/N: Heheh, Part 3 has already been started 😘

luv ya,

Xenya 🖤

Part 3

[jimbleswrites]

Nora, The Sole Survivor

Chapter 1: The day the bombs fell

A/N: This is a retelling of Fallout 4 based on my playthrough and headcanons. 

“War never changes.” I was walking by the bathroom when I heard my husband rehearsing his speech. I swear, he had been repeating the same line for an hour, hogging the bathroom. Didn’t he know I had to get ready to? 

I went into the bathroom behind him. “You’re gonna knock ‘em dead tonight. Now move over.” I reached around him to get my toothbrush. Nate groaned, and walked out. I eyeballed myself as I got ready. I looked tired, with bags under my eyes. I guess that made sense, since I was up all night with the baby. I heard the TV turn on from the other room. I finished getting ready, and walked toward the kitchen. Codsworth hovered there, warming up coffee.

“Good morning, Ms Nora. Here is your coffee!” Codsworth cheerily said, pouring some into a mug.

“Thanks, Codsworth.” I blankly stared forward, sipping my drink. Nate was sitting on the couch, watching the news. There was a moment of peace, then crying. Shaun was crying again.

“I shall attend to young Shaun!” Codsworth immediately floated off to Shaun’s room. I looked at Nate, who continued to watch the news. I sighed and looked past him to our shelf. His flag and gun were on display in the middle of a shelf, with my law degree being tucked into a lower part.

“Have you gotten those hooks yet?” I asked.

“No, I forgot when I was out last. I’ll get them after the rally tonight.” Nate responded, not even looking away from the TV.

“You said that last time.” It was a cold response, but he had forgotten 3 times already.

“Look, my job has been very hectic recently, not to mention the baby.” Nate still was just looking forward as he spoke.

“You mean Shaun? Our child? You’ve been distant ever since he was born. I’m just asking you to grab something for me since you don’t want to buy me a car.”

“You don’t need a car.” Nate finally looked away from the TV. “Why does everything lead back to that car?”

“Because I took a job that requires me to be places, and I can’t depend on you for rides at weird times.”

“You didn’t need to take a job, you know? I make enough for us to be happy.”

I scowled. “Are we having this argument again? I didn’t go to law school for years just to be a housewife.”

Nate groaned. “You wanted to wait on getting a job, then you randomly decide you have a job and need a car? You just changed your mind on this, and I don’t want to spend money on something if you are going to not use it.”

“I waited because WE had a child! I can’t believe you think that me taking a break to raise OUR child means I’ll just be your little bimbo housewife forever!” My voice was louder than I wanted, but I was tired of having this fight.

Nate stood up, visibly angry. “I provide a house, a salary, I even bought a Mr. Handy because you thought being a mom was too hard. But now I’M the bad guy?” He towered over me. “You don’t know how bad it is at work for me. Everyone is dumping their shit on me since I'm the new guy, and I’d love to have some support from my wife.”

“We’re not even married yet! You just keep saying that because your family is upset you had a kid without getting hitched!” We were interrupted by a knock on the door. I tried to go get it, only to have Nate hold me in place.

“Why can’t you just be happy with us?” Nate growled. Now that he was breathing in my face, I could smell the scotch on his breath. “I gave up so much for us. All I ask for is a hot meal, some moral support, and not to get yelled at for forgetting some fucking hooks!” He was screaming in my face, and the knocking was heard again. He let go of me, and turned to the door. My arms hurt from where he gripped me. I stood there, tearing up a little as he answered the door. 

I walked past him to Shaun’s room, passing Codsworth, and shut myself in. I leaned over the crib, looking at my son. He was barely a year old, and giggled happily as he stared back at me. I spun the mobile, watching Shaun's eyes follow the little rocketship around. My mind wandered as I stood there. He wasn’t this mad when we first met. I was trying to graduate law school, and he was working towards a new position at his local outpost. We were both young and dumb, and having someone else around was nice. Even when I found out I was pregnant, he was so excited about having a family. The nice man I had fallen in love with was probably still there, but it wasn’t the man I normally talked to nowadays.

The door opened behind me. “I’m sorry, Nora. I’ve just been so stressed with my new job, I snapped.” He stood on the opposite side of the crib, looking at me. “I’ll get you a car, but I think you should wait for a while longer to go back to work.”

“It’s not about the car, it’s the controlling. It feels like you’re trying to lock me into being someone I’m not.” I sighed as I looked back at him. “I want to be me, not just Nate’s wife.”

“Hey, how about we go out to the park today?” Nate came around to my side and put his arm around my shoulder. “Weather should be nice.”

“Sir? Mum? You should come and see this!” Codsworth called out from the house.

“What’s wrong, Codworth?” I ducked under Nate’s arm and walked back out to the living room. Codsworth was focusing on the TV, which had a reporter talking.

“-Confirmed flashes… That’s right, confirmed detonations in New York. My god…” The reporter put his head in his hands as the TV faded to a lost broadcast. My heart sank as the realization hit my mind. Atomic war felt like a constant threat, but now it was real. There were bombs heading our way. 

Nate came into the room holding Shaun. “Honey? What’s going on?”

“On the TV, they said…” I was stunned, unable to say the words. The neighborhood began to wake as army trucks rolled in.

“Nuclear detonations, sir. And they are heading this way…” Codsworth said, with a sad tone I had not heard from him before. The noise outside grew as people began running outside.

“The salesman… He registered us for the vault!” Nate rambled, grabbing some random things and putting them in his pockets. “The Vault they made on the hill! We have to go now!”

That pulled me back in. We had a plan. “Got it. Let’s go.” I hopped the couch and opened the door, with Nate holding Shaun behind me. I sprinted past people in the streets, some simply watching, others packing suitcases. Nate pulled ahead as we crossed the small bridge over the river, and we found a group of people at a fence. I hadn’t seen the Vault they were building, but this had to be it. We ran up the hill to find soldiers with guns blocking the gated fence.

“IF YOU’RE NOT ON THE LIST, YOU DON’T GET IN!” The man screamed at the crowds pushing on the chains. Nate reached the gate first and was screaming at them. I watched as my neighbors were pushed away and fought to climb over. Nate grabbed me and pulled me through, apparently proving we were on the list.

“What about the others?” I asked the man as he ran us to a platform.

“WE’RE TRYING, JUST STEP IN THE CENTER!” He was clearly as scared as us. We stepped on the platform next to some others, just as we heard the boom. We looked up to see a massive cloud growing over the city.

“SEND IT DOWN NOW, GOD DAMN IT!” The man slammed some buttons, and the platform below us began to descend into the earth. The blast finally hit, the force whooshing by as the top doors sealed, leaving us in darkness. There was a silence, just whirring gears as the platform continued to fall deeper in the abyss. I reached out and grabbed Nate’s hand, simply holding it. He gripped it tightly. We finally saw a dim light towards the bottom as the platform slowed. 

The gates that held us were raised up to show a man in a blue bodysuit. “Hello everyone! Welcome to your new life, underground!” He was chipper, weirdly. It felt like he was introducing us to a theme park, versus the horror we just came from.

“So, now what?” One of the other people on the lift spoke.

“Just walk through the doors, grab your vault suit, and meet us at the decontamination pods!” He pointed to a simple staircase, leading to a large gear-shaped door that loomed over us. No one really moved, until Nate took a step. He gently pulled me with him, leading us to the stairs. I followed behind, and someone followed me. A chain of lemmings, scared to death. There were already people inside, waiting at tables with boxes of suits. Nate slowly led us there, where another chipper vault suit wearer was waiting.

“Name?” She smiled as she looked through a Pip-boy on her wrist. 

“Nate, Nora, and Shaun Hill.” Nate croaked. I looked to see Shaun still asleep in Nate’s arm.

“Oh yes, our little engaged couple! I know it’s not what you imagined your wedding hall looking like, but I pulled some strings and got a lovely cake food supplement whenever you’re ready to make it official!” She talked like this was normal, rummaging through boxes and pulling out some blue bags. “Here you are, now go ahead to the decontamination pods down the hall.” She pointed down a hall, and Nate slowly walked that direction. I took the bags from her, and followed Nate down the hall. There were other people inside, some in pods, some outside. Some cried, others were silent. The only talkative ones were the Vault workers, talking about operations and organizing people. We walked past several rooms until finally reaching the end room. Pods hooked into tubes and wires, all hanging on scaffolding above our heads. 

There was another vault worker in a lab coat, standing there. “Now, just put on your suit and step inside.” He gestured to some empty pods. I look around for a changing room, only to see others changing right next to us in the hallway. I guess if I was going to be living with these people for the rest of my life in a small concrete box under the earth, privacy may not be something we have in spades. I awkwardly changed into the vault suit, trading shaun back and forth with Nate as he changed. We stared at each other, now in matching blue suits. 

Shaun began to cry. Nate held him, just staring. I reached out and touched Shaun’s face. “Hey, I’ll just be over there, ok? No need to cry.” I was tearing up myself, but looked at Nate. “See you on the other side.” I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Nate wrapped an arm around me, shaking.

“Just step into the pods!” The Vault tech was repeating this to people as they came in. Nate finally let go of me, and we split into our pods, facing each other. The doors slid down in front of us, with a small glass window. We put our hands to the glass, reaching out one last time.

“These are just a simple decontamination process, so just relax!” The Vault tech continued to speak, even as a mechanical voice counted down. “Just relax and it’ll be over soon!”

“5”

Air began hissing around me.

“4”

Shaun waved at me from Nate’s pod.

“3”

“Time for my new life…” I muttered to myself.

“2”

I felt the world grow colder.

“1”

I closed my eyes and slowly lost consciousness.

[ghstandpucks]

Teacher Appreciation Part 3 ~ Nathan MacKinnon (4+1)

Here it is! Part 3 (and last) of Teacher Appreciation! I'm so thankful for all the comments and love, thank you to everyone who has read it! Let me know what you think of this part! Shout out to @cozynightscandle for asking about a part 3 and providing some inspo, as well as @avsfans95 for always letting me bounce ideas off of her!

Also, sixth grade is still considered elementary in my district, so I kept it that way for purposes of the story!

Summary: The four times Nate surprised your class, and the one time your class and Nate surprised you.

Warning: mentions of the pandemic (not the main focus, just touching on how teaching was during that time as I spent the beginning of my teaching career pretty much online)

Word Count: 4,634

Master List

Your first year of teaching sixth grade was actually more successful than you would have thought. It was a different type of bond you were able to build with your students. Instead of having to tie shoes and clean boo-boos, you became someone that your students would come talk to if they were too stressed. They told you their dreams and aspirations; all the while still relying on you to calm their fears when math became overwhelming. Long story short, you absolutely loved it. Yes, some were taller than you, and on more than one occasion Nate would lose you among your kiddos when he would come to help in your classroom. Still, you built connections that you didn’t think were possible after always working with the younger kids. Nate loved seeing how excited you were, and loved when you would come home and tell him all about what your kids did that day.

And yes, home was now with Nate. During a bad snow one evening, you were panicking about having to get back home so you could change just in case school wasn’t cancelled for the next day. Nate, off-handedly, suggested that it would be easier for you to just move in, since you were over all the time anyways; his office half taken over with craft supplies already. You agreed with a sarcastic laugh, thinking he was joking, but woke up to him clearing out space in his closet. During winter break, you officially moved in. Now it was your second year in sixth grade, and a handful of your kiddos from third grade when you first met Nate were back in your class. And if you thought third graders were intrusive, they just got worse, especially when they already knew you.

1

“Miss Y/L/N, could you not give us homework tonight? I have practice,” Steven asked right after the morning bell rang and you were checking over last nights homework.

“Steven, I already don’t give you much homework and you have time to usually start it in class. Use your time wisely kiddo,” you said, stamping his paper as he groaned.

“But Miss Y/L/N…”

“But nothing, do your work,” you responded, making a face at him that caused the young boy to huff out a laugh. You had only been in school for a month now, but have been having a great time with your kids. Today, the Avs would be on campus talking with the fifth graders as they do every year about the presidential fitness test. Last week when your students caught word that the hockey team would be there, half of them pleaded with you to get the team into your classroom. Little did they know that you had a different surprise planned for them. During recess, Nate ran into your classroom as you gathered your PE supplies. “Do they know yet?” he asked, giving you a quick kiss and taking the kickball from your hands.

“Not a clue,” you giggled as he retreated to his teammates and you went to get your kids from line. Leading your students into the gym as you had PE after recess, they all started to shout and jump around when they saw who was joining them. You waved as Nate came into view, accompanied by the entire Avs’ line up.

“Hi Teacher Dad!” Alexa squealed over the commotion, and you swore your face was beat red. She hadn’t used that term yet this year and to be frank, you had forgotten about it.

“Alexa,” you started as the guys laughed.

“Hi Alexa,” Nate called out, smiling at you with a look that told you not to get upset. Looking back at the girl, she sent you a sweet smile and you just shook your head with a laugh.

“You know better,” you said and she giggled. “Alright, ladies and gentleman gather around please! Today we will be continuing our game of….”

“Kickball basketball!” your kids yelled, running off to their teams and taking their positions. “Wait wait wait. Before we get started, would someone kindly explain the rules of kickball basketball to our newcomers,” you gestured towards the Avs who looked completely confused at your fusion of the two ballgames.

“So one team pitches the ball like in kickball and the other team has to kick it. Then they skip around the perimeter of the basketball court and have to make it back home before the other team can get the ball and shoot it through the hoop,” Justin explained.

“There are also no bases so you can’t stop. You aren’t safe anywhere unless you make it back home,” Kalel added.

“This is really a game now?” Andre asked you and you nodded.

“And it is our favorite. So I have my kids playing odds vs evens based on their class numbers. I think you all can split up that way too,” you said, gesturing for the guys to join their respective teams. Nate watched as you settled the argument about who the pitcher would be between three of your boys, not handing the ball over till they figured it out diplomatically.

“She wasn’t joking when she said her students were taller than her, was she?” Andre laughed from beside Nate as he chuckled along. You stood on the sideline, cheering and calling out foul balls for the duration of the game. The Avs took it easy with your kids, just laughing and having fun. Your kids were ecstatic, being able to call some of the guys their teammates; getting high fives and being cheered on by the pro athletes. You PE time was about to end within another five minutes as the teams switched sides after the evens got three outs on the odds. You saw Isaac hand Nate the ball to make him pitcher, smiling as Nate gently rolled the ball to Kiely. After she kicked it and almost made it around, Steven was up.

“Miss Y/L/N, will you kick?” he called out to you, and your class started to cheer. It was no secret that you played PE games with your kids from time to time. A chant of your name was started as you laughed and put your keys and walkie talkie off to the side.

“Teacher Mom vs Teacher Dad, yaaaasss,” Alexa cheered and you shook your head.

“Alexa,” you called and she smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry!” Nate laughed and turned his attention back to you. He rolled the ball slower than you knew he could, but that didn’t stop you from kicking it with all your might. Your kids (and the Avs) on your side were cheering loudly as you skipped around the perimeter laughing, coming back to home a second before Tyson got the ball in the net.

“Evens win!” you called out, then made your two teams shake hands with each other and collect the equipment as it was time to head back to class. As your class was saying goodbye to the Avs, Nate walked over and bumped his arm into you.

“You know I went easy on you right?” he asked, ever the competitor. You laughed and smiled sweetly at him.

“You know you shouldn’t have, right?” you shot back, laughing as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you back home. Love you,” you whispered.

“Love you,” he whispered back. You gathered your class and ushered them out of the gym and back to your classroom. The rest of the day went well as your class was floating on cloud nine from their interaction with the Avs.

2

One Thursday afternoon before Winter break, you came home with several bags of potatoes in hand. Opening your apartment door, you walked in on Mikko and Andre watching a basketball game with Nate; your boyfriend automatically getting up and taking a few bags from you. “What’s with all the potatoes?” Mikko asked.

“We’re mummifying them tomorrow in class,” you answered casually, walking off into the kitchen as Nate sat back down on the couch while Mikko and Andre looked entirely confused.

“Did what she just said not phase you at all?” Andre asked Nate and the center shrugged.

“I’ve been hearing about this project for like 3 months now,” he said casually. You walked back into the room and sat on the edge of the couch near Nate.

“Mummifying potatoes?” Mikko asked, looking slightly horrified.

“Yeah, we’re learning about ancient Egypt. We’re going to wrap the potatoes in foil and decorate them with plastic jewels like they were death masks,” you explained in an excited tone.

“How?” Andre asked, now completely more interested in what you were talking about than the game.

“I’m going to cut large slices of potatoes so ever student gets a handful. Then we’re going to pour baking soda and salt on them to dry it out like the Ancient Egyptians would dry a body. Then we are going to wrap it in tin foil like a sarcophagus and decorate. When we get back from winter break, we’ll ‘excavate’ them by unwrapping the potatoes and see how we did with drying it out, documenting changes and what we see like archaeologists,” you explained. Nate smiled up at you as Mikko and Andre tried to figure out if the project seemed cool or crazy. They settled on cool.

“Can we help?” Mikko asked and you laughed.

“Nate’s coming in tomorrow to help. The two of you can come with him if you want,” you said and the guys nodded.

The following day, Alexa answered the door when there was a knock as you were starting to explain to your class what they were going to do with their potatoes. “Teacher Dad! You’re here!” She said quietly as to not get in trouble by you. Nate chuckled, nodding as Mikko and Andre planned on chirping him later for how comfortable your class was with him if they were calling him teacher dad like it was no big deal. It was one thing when they were younger, but took on a different comfort level as they were older.

The guys helped you pass out the materials and made their own sarcophagi as you circled the classroom making sure your students were staying on task and not just goofy around. A few of your sports obsessed boys clung to the hockey players and copied their every move, decorating their sarcophagi to look similar. You laughed, passing by Nate’s and adding an extra jewel because you wanted to make it more sparkly. He narrowed his eyes at you, but let you keep adding jewels until you were content and circled the class again to see how your kids were coming along. Mikko and Andre snickered; only you would be allowed to touch anything of Nate’s and not have him explode on you.

“Mr. MacKinnon?” two of your girls came up to Nate with little giggles. He looked at them confused, but answered.

“Yes?”

“You and Miss Y/L/N are dating right? Like you’re here all the time. Ever since third grade,” Audrey asked in a hushed tone while Cierra continued to giggle. Nate flushed, not sure how to answer them.

“You must really like her. Like, marry her like her,” Cierra added as Nate cleared his throat and his teammates started to laugh. Before Nate could formulate a sentence though, you were calling for your class’s attention, letting them know it was time to put their ‘sarcophagi’ on the back counter and clean up for the day. As you circled the room again, you noticed Nate looking a bit red with the two forwards trying to hold in their laughter.

“You okay?” you asked him quietly.

“Fine,” he shot you a smile, and though you were skeptical, you returned to your class.

“Yeah Teacher Dad Mackinnon. When are you going to make her Teacher Mom MacKinnon?” Andre chirped quietly, muttering a sorry when you shot him a look having heard his voice, but not what he said. Truth be told, Nate had already thought about it and had plans for an off-season proposal.

3

Campus was quiet on a Thursday after school. You had made copies and stapled a few packets together, graded math tests, and prepared a social studies test for Friday. One task led to another and you kept walking around your room hanging up new student work. Sitting down, you started working on going through your students work from the week to check for understanding and participation. As you were stamping and writing comments, you heard your door being unlocked. Figuring it was the custodian, you kept on plugging away. “Hi Ms. Kay,” you said cheerfully, before looking up and jumping in shock. “What are you doing here?” Nate looked at you incredulously.

“Why are you still here? Y/N I thought something happened to you,” he walked over to you and pulled you up and into a hug. Was he worried about you?

“No, I was just getting some things done. How did you get in?” you asked as he let go of you.

“Ms. Kay gave me your room key when I ran into her in the parking lot. Why the hell are you still here? I tried to call you like ten times,” Nate said, obviously worried, but you still weren’t sure why.

“I have bad reception in my room, I’m sorry babe,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Why are you so worried. Is everything okay?”

“You don’t know what time it is, do you?” Nate asked you, laughing humorlessly.

“It’s only like 4:30,” you said, looking at him confused.

“Hun, no,” he said, showing you his watch. “It’s 7:30.”

“Oh my gosh Nate. I am so sorry! One thing led to another and I wasn’t paying attention and…” you rambled.

“Hey it’s okay,” Nate tilted your chin up with his forefinger. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, realizing you had worried him. Nate smiled softly at you, giving you a quick kiss before grabbing your backpack and keys.

“Let’s go home,” he tugged on your hand but looked back when you didn’t budge.

“Nate I have so much to do. I don’t know how I got behind this week but I need to get all their work together and sent home in their Friday folders,” you rushed out, starting to feel overwhelmed that you didn’t have all the time you thought you had.

“Then they can get them on Monday. You need to come home and get some rest,” Nate tried to reason patiently with you.

“Nate, they’re called Friday folders for a reason,” you said.

“And I’m sure if they get them late one week no one will riot,” he responded.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know your class adores you as their teacher. Now let’s go home and you can finish them tomorrow if you’re going to stress over it,” Nate started to pull you along.

“But…”

“Leave it.”

The next day you were running on pure caffeine and more thankful than usual that it was Friday. The unfortunate part, your schedule had no room for you to work on your Friday folders. Figuring you would skip lunch to get it done, you went about your day as usual. You were helping Noah with dividing fractions when there was a knock at your door. As you continued to help your student, Justin got up and answered. “Mr. MacKinnon!” he yelled and your head shot up.

“Justin, that is not an appropriate classroom tone,” you said as your class was all trying to get a better look at Nate. “Get back to work you guys. I’ll be right back Noah. Try number 12 by yourself,” you suggested, getting up and walking over to Nate. “Everything okay?”

“What do you want me to file?” he asked.

“What?” you asked, confused by his question.

“You were stressed yesterday about your Friday folders and they still look empty,” Nate gestured toward your hanging files on the wall with all the student’s folders in them. “I figured I would stop by to see if you needed help.”

“Are you my room mom for the day?” you laughed quietly and Nate nodded. Checking the time, you shook your head.

“You just got out of practice. I appreciate the help, but I’m sure your tired. Go home and rest,” you said, feeling guilty that you had worried him yesterday.

“I’m good. Where should I start?” he smiled.

“Please let him stay Miss Y/L/N. I love making my brother mad that Nathan MacKinnon spends time in our class instead of his,” Isaac said from behind you. Turning around, you laughed looking up at the tall sixth grader.

“Why are you up?” you asked.

“Oh! I need help on number 15,” he showed you his messy paper.

“We’ll go over everything right now. But did you flip the second fraction and then simplify?”

“No….”

“Ohhh, I would start there,” you smiled.

“Yes ma’am,” Isaac saluted you and went back to his desk. You laughed softly, shaking your head and turning back to Nate. “If you’re sure you want to stay, their work is all ready to be filed and it’s sitting on my desk. Thank you.” You smiled at Nate with a sigh of relief. He squeezed your arm reassuringly for a moment, then walked over to your desk to grab the stack he needed. “Alright my crazies, let’s go over our keep, change, flip.”

4

This wasn’t actually happening, was it? There’s no way this is real. These thoughts swirled in your head on a Friday in March. The school was closing for an extended spring break due to an outbreak. COVID-19 was closing your school. Nate’s season was just postponed, and now school. You went home in tears that day, not knowing what was going to happen next.

Over the next two weeks, you prepared Google Classrooms and work to do digitally as your school year was called. A month in a half online, then summer. Nate was getting agitated, not knowing what to expect with hockey and also worried for the both of you in the city. “I’m getting us a flight to Coal Harbor before they close the borders,” he mentioned one night during dinner.

“Nate, I can’t leave. What if I need to get back into my class? What if my kids need me?” you asked, your anxiety heightening.

“Then I’ll find a way to get you back here as quickly as possible. I just think we would be safer at home with more space, not an apartment in the middle of Denver,” he explained.

“I don’t have anything to teach there. At least here I have a white board, I can’t take that on a plane,” you rambled. Nate reached across the table and grabbed your hand.

“I already ordered you one for there. It’s being delivered tomorrow. You can turn one of the spare rooms into your classroom, or you can take my office and I can do things somewhere else. I just want to go back home, and I’m not comfortable leaving you here,” he said, wiping a tear off your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You weren’t sure if you were stress crying or worried crying at this point. He did have a point though, and you were online for the remainder of the school year. You nodded.

“Okay.”

~ ~ ~

Three weeks later you were laughing at a story one of your kids was telling you over Google Meet. You had to give it to your class, they were very resilient and working hard to finish the year off. Deciding that you wanted to do something fun for PE, you roped Nate into a low-key training session. You told your kids to come to class that morning in their favorite sports gear and be ready to move. Opening your meet, you appeared in your MacKinnon jersey. “Of course you have a MacKinnon jersey Miss Y/L/N,” Cierra said laughing. You looked at her shocked.

“Who else should I have?” you laughed with her.

“Crosby,” Kiely unmuted herself quickly.

“I heard that Kiely!” Nate yelled from somewhere in the hallway. Your kids started laughing and you smiled at them, thankful to have them all healthy and safe in front of you, even if it was through a screen.

“Okie dokie kiddies. I have something fun planned for us today. Are you all ready to meet our special guests?”

“We know Mr. MacKinnon is there Miss Y/L/N,” Steven unmuted himself and laughed.

“I said guests as in plural Steven. But if you don’t want to meet him, I guess I can just send him back home,” you shrugged, starting to turn around in your chair.

“No no no! Steven stop talking. Miss Y/L/N, who is it?” Noah called, practically bouncing out of his seat.

“Hey, be nice Noah. Alright ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. I would like you to meet your PE coaches for the day. Mr. MacKinnon you already know, but say hi!” your kids all unmuted themselves to say hello to Nate as he walked into the room. “Okay now, drumroll please! Your other PE coach, Mr. Crosby!” The screams of your kids had you pressing ‘mute all’ really quick. If only there was a mute all in real life. Sidney waved at your kids while Nate laughed as Kalel fell out of his chair in excitement. You saw parents running into the rooms of your students, all waving and excited themselves once they saw there was no danger.

After a 30 minute workout with Nate and Sid demonstrating and counting for the kids, you let them have time to talk with your class. They had been working so hard, you figured some time missed from learning to enjoy themselves in this hectic experience was needed. Friday was half day for you online, so after a math review and reading time, you said goodbye to your kids as they all started to log off. Waving till the last one left, you sunk back into your chair as you ended the call. Nate came into the room and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for doing that today,” you said, smiling at your boyfriend.

“Of course. I would do anything for you, you know that,” he said simply and you smiled. “I am mad at Kiely though. Why should you have a Crosby jersey?” Nate made a face and you giggled.

“She just wants what’s best for her teacher,” you teased him, leaning forward to give him a quick kiss and then standing up to head to the kitchen for a snack.

“Yeah sure,” Nate said, then comprehended what you just said. “Hey!” he ran after you, circling his arms around your waist while you laughed and tried to get away from him.

+1

It was the last day of school for the year, and you were watching a movie with your kids on Google Meet. After the meet you talked about the summer and what they hoped to do if they could. You had them also talk about what their favorite part of the year was and what they look forward to in Junior High. “You guys know that I will always be here for you. I know you will all be awesome seventh graders and I can’t wait to run into you all at the grocery store one day and have you all tell me about it,” you said, starting to get choked up with having to say goodbye to them after such an insane year.

“I’m gonna miss you Teacher Mom,” Alexa unmuted herself and you almost broke. Even though you would get after her when she would call Nate Teacher Dad, you loved being her Teacher Mom.

“You’re going to make me cry,” you said, tearing up and laughing as your kids all started to unmute themselves to tell you not to cry.

“Miss Y/L/N, can you call Mr. MacKinnon into the room please?” Kiely asked softly and you nodded, figuring she wanted to say goodbye to him too. You called for Nate, laughing at a joke one of your boys told you while he walked into the room. Seeing him through the camera, you turned around in shock.

“What’s all of this?” you said to all the little presents and cards Nate was holding and placing down on the desk beside your laptop.

“We all wanted to get you something, so my mom emailed Mr. MacKinnon to plan how to get it to you!” Isaac shouted.

“Email?” you asked Nate, not knowing they had his email.

“Instagram,” he whispered. Your actual room mom DMed Nate.

“You guys! This is too much! Thank you,” you gushed, looking at the outpour of love from your class. “You’re all the best and I love you guys,” you said, not helping the tears that came to your eyes.

“Love you Miss Y/L/N!” a few of your girls shouted while your boys just laughed.

“There is also one more thing,” Nate muttered to you, rubbing the back of his neck. “You guys ready?” he asked your class, and you could hear the nerves in his voice. Why was he nervous? Your kids all nodded, big smiles on most of their faces. “Okay, hold them up.” You watched the screen as your kids held up colorful posters with different sayings on them. Confused, you started to read them.

“Teacher Mom + Teacher Dad”

“Congratulations!”

“Mrs. MacKinnon’s Class!”

“Say yes!” … Kiely’s had a picture of a ring on it. Your jaw dropped as your heartbeat sped up.

“Turn around!” Alexa yelled through the speakers. Spinning in your chair, you came face to face with Nate kneeling in front of you, a beautiful ring in his hands.

“I had a whole speech planned out, but I’m forgetting it now,” he chuckled and you giggled with him, more tears filling your eyes. “I know this time has been crazy, and I didn’t plan on purposing to you during a pandemic, but I didn’t want to wait any longer. I love you Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. I’m thankful everyday that those kids brought you to the rink that day three years ago. I love having crafts all over my desk because you need more space, and I love being Teacher Dad; more than I thought I would. But most of all, I love the peace and steadiness you bring to my life, even if you’re running in circles yourself. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

“Say yes!” shouts came from behind you on the computer screen. You smiled, nodding your head.

“Yes, of course,” you said, tears falling. Nate smiled at you and slipped the ring on your finger, standing up and bringing you into a hug. He wanted to kiss you, but knew you would get mad that it was in front of your class. Cheers erupted from the meet, and you turned to see not only your students but their parents also. Laughing, you showed your class your ring quickly.

“Yay Teacher Mom and Teacher Dad!” Alexa shouted and you couldn’t get mad at her this time. After they all calmed down and you said your final goodbyes, you ended the meet and found Nate laying on the couch. You lowered yourself on top of him and kissed him.

“How did you get them to do that?” you asked, referring to the signs.

“When Isaac’s mom messaged me, I brought it up. She coordinated it all with the other parents,” he said and you laughed.

“I love you,” you said, kissing him again, Nate wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“I love you too, future Mrs. MacKinnon.”

Tagged: @avsfans95 @capsvsducks @justjosty @tysojost @natxpat @evphemia @stlbluesbrat21 @fallinallincurls @joeyisourranger @kyratallent @drewseph93 @ayohockeycheck @tkbarzal @stormingroses @dreamandrow @handwrittenheros @brandonbagel @bakerclaire123 @miranda0102 @cherrylita @musiclove-12 @reallyawkwardbandlover

[baodurs]

i want someone besides me and the 2 friends who know all the lore to meet my detective, but i’m too impatient to let you get to know her via fic so i filled out this questionnaire instead. she is veronica and she is so important, here is some stuff about her if you are interested :’)

QUICK READ OF YOUR DETECTIVE

Name: veronica langford

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: bi

Love interest: adam

Best friend: morgan

Main skill: science/technology

Secondary skill: combat/physical

Main personality trait: impulsive

Secondary personality trait: sarcastic

Why did they join the Wayhaven PD?: best use of her science skills

Relationship with Rebecca: not great

Relationship with Bobby: ex, finds it hard to be around him

Verda or Tina?: both! but she’s on verda’s branch

Murphy bite?: wrist

Murphy's fate?: captured

Rescue LI or Rescue Sanja?: sanja

GENERAL

Name: veronica “it’s been 3 years and i never gave her a middle name” langford

Nickname: just veronica. people around wayhaven called her ronny growing up, and a few still do despite her trying to grow out of it. maybe a few people from college and sometimes tina call her v or vee or something.

Birthday: please you all know i am so scared of concrete dates

Age: 26

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: bi

Hair color: brown

Eye color: dark brown

Height: 5′10 (178 cm)

Piercings: just one in each ear

Tattoos: something retro sci-fi on her shoulder. not a reference to anything specific, but like a little planetary landscape with a UFO in the background or something.

Clothing Style: casual. lots of tank tops and muscle tees (weather- and occasion-permitting), concert t-shirts, warm colors. flannels and leather jackets. jeans, sneakers, combat boots. think like rocker chick vibes, but cozier and more colorful.

Apartment Style: basic. she really did not plan on living there long and kept putting off decorating because it’d be a waste if she was just going to move out. this rationalization went on so long but since the end of book 1 she has slowly bought a few things to push it towards “cozy,” still pretty sparse though.

STATS

Personality:

Charming | Intimidating

Impulsive | Cautious

Sarcastic | Genuine

Friendly | Stoic

Easygoing | Stubborn

Traits:

Heart | Mind

Optimist | Pessimist

Team Player | Independent

Skills:

Main Skill: science/technology (but mostly science)

Second Skill: combat/physical

By the Book | Bend the Rules

KEY DECISIONS

Reason for joining the Wayhaven PD: best use of her science skills

Murphy bite:  Wrist | Neck | None

Murphy’s Fate: Captured | Escaped

Rescued: Love Interest | Sanja

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP

Love Interest: adam

Why them?: for veronica it’s kind of retroactive. the way i imagine their True Canon, they don’t have any real romantic moments in book 1, so she doesn’t seriously consider that adam might have feelings for her until well into book 2. (the training scene is when she’s like “oh. ok. i get it now.”) even then it takes a few more chapters for her to really process that, figure out how she feels, and recontextualize everything. like realizing that he loves her and then thinking back on their relationship, knowing that, makes her feel so held (sorry i have no better way to say it) in a way that just makes her want to cry.

to give some actual specific reasons, it’s his dedication and his constancy and hidden care/softness. and his very specific brand of... selflessness might be just left of the word i’m looking for, but hopefully you get me.

Bold, shy, or mixed?: neither! in theory it’s closer to bold, but it’s more just earnest.

What were their first impressions of each other?: disastrous. on top of finding him condescending and unpleasant, there are also a few moments where veronica genuinely wonders whether he’s even a good person. or, like, cares about people. but once she learns the truth of things, a lot of her initial anger gets transferred to rebecca.

adam, with the benefit of knowing what’s actually happening, has a slightly more favorable impression of veronica. yes he thinks she’s difficult and reckless and too emotionally driven, yes she’s making his job absolutely miserable, but he does begrudgingly respect that her accusations are always on the right track and she’s good at her job.

What do they find attractive about each other, mentally or physically?:

for veronica: she loooves his sense of humor. and how much faith he has in the people he cares about. physically, dimples <3. but everything about his smile really. and his nose!

for adam: veronica has a very blunt, unadorned sense of kindness to her that he really loves. the way she is kind before she is nice and values directness. physically, her eyes, they’re deep brown and so expressive.

What do they do to spend time together?: they’re both competitive so anything where they can compete on the same team is fun. (competing against each other is fun too, but also like. exhausting. for them and everyone.) maybe puzzles or other things where it feels like they’re “winning” or solving something together. i have spent an embarrassing amount of thought on veronica and overw*tch esp*rts and she would absolutely make adam learn how to play main tank so they could queue as a tank duo. but most of the time i think they don’t Do specific things together; they just hang out. just talk with each other. perhaps snuggle.

What is their favorite memory together?: in current canon... lol. veronica really just treasures any time adam relaxes around her but those moments always get Ruined. even once they’re well into a relationship, i think veronica’s favorite memory would still be something small like a random time he said something funny and they both laughed together and they were outside and the sky was pretty.

What are their love languages?: acts of service for both of them, but especially adam. veronica... probably lots of words of affirmation and physical touch. they’re both bad at blocking out time for themselves in the first place, so quality time can get neglected especially at first.

How do they handle being apart from one another?: pretty well i think! once they’re in an established relationship at least, before that it’s probably harder. but adam can distract himself with work, and veronica is good at focusing on whatever’s in front of her (whether that’s work or she’s away on vacation or something). if neither of them is too busy, veronica calls every night and they stay on a while, half talking and half just keeping each other company.

Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: i think arguments are fairly rare! yes they’re both insanely stubborn, but they also understand each other pretty well (especially once in a relationship) and are very sympathetic to where the other is coming from. unless both of them are extremely stressed, one of them crumbles when they start genuinely arguing like "i don't want to fight ok, let's take a second."

What does their future look like?: who knows! i haven’t decided whether veronica will turn. i think she probably will, just because i do not want my main pairing for this IF to make me very sad all the time, but like. i’m not fully committing until i see a reason pop up in canon. as of book 3′s final demo, it’s not on her radar at all; she knows she loves adam and wishes they could Talk, but ultimately doesn’t expect or even want a relationship right now (because she doesn’t want to deal with dating one of rebecca’s agents OR with the logistics of being in a committed relationship with an immortal being). it’s just all so foreign to her current state of mind that it’s really hard to say!

Anything else you'd like to share: do you know how hard it was to answer some of these considering veronica wasn’t sure they were even, like, on decent terms for such a large portion of the canon content

BEST FRIEND RELATIONSHIP

Best friend: morgan and farah are essentially joint besties but i’ll go with M

Why them?: i think they appreciate each other’s no bullshit attitude. morgan likes that veronica doesn’t take herself too seriously and respects/relates to the way she tackles problems (quickly, head-on, and without complaint but also without pretending that it doesn’t suck?). veronica appreciates morgan’s bluntness, likes bantering with her, and in general just likes being around people that have quiet/steady presences.

What were their first impressions of each other?: neither of them had much of a first impression honestly. morgan barely thought of veronica at all beyond “she’s annoying,” and kept to herself so much that any dislike veronica had of morgan took a backseat to her dealing with the rest of unit bravo.

What do they do to spend time together?: lots of just sitting in the same room and listening to (low volume) music, veronica spends a lot of time hunting for songs morgan might like. morgan is also her go-to sparring/training buddy. and there are semi-frequent movie nights where veronica shows farah her favorite old shitty B movies, and sometimes morgan will tag along just to sit in the room with them or affectionately talk shit.

Anything else you'd like to share: i’ll talk a little about N! obviously veronica and nate respect, trust, and like each other, but she finds him the hardest of UB to connect with. they’re both people who wear their compassion on their sleeves but keep a lot of their hearts/themselves held back, so they just kind of circle each other, especially since like... nate values politeness and is very sweet in how he relates to people, while veronica values directness and is more jokey/lighthearted to put people at ease. idk how well i’m communicating this; as of the book 3 demo it’s getting easier, but their friendship is still newer/more... nebulous? than the others.

OTHER RELATIONSHIPS (Feel free to go in depth!)

Relationship with Rebecca: so strained. veronica has come to terms with rebecca’s absences throughout her childhood, but there’s newer resentment over... a lot of things, but how she handled the murphy case especially. veronica hates being kept in the dark, and even more than that she hates being rebecca’s priority. it’s difficult to reconcile her childhood and present images of rebecca, and she’s angry that rebecca is so freely and recklessly choosing her, now, to the point of endangering others if she has to, especially when she never felt like rebecca’s choice before. and incredibly frustrated/confused by how often the lines between their professional and familial relationships are blurred and what rebecca actually wants from her.

Relationship with Rook: veronica takes after rook a lot. in stat terms, the only trait they don’t share is stoic, and even then that’s veronica’s least extreme stat. people always told her how like her father she was growing up, and it’s a comparison she took/takes a lot of pride in! she looks up to him based on the stories, but more recently is uncomfortable with the comparisons. veronica would never have even come back to wayhaven if her life panned out as planned, let alone become a detective or joined the agency. that makes her doubt herself, and she feels like that doubt is letting rook down somehow.

rook is also part of the reason her relationship with rebecca isn’t as bad as it could be. she knows that rook loved her, and that he would want his family to be there for each other, so she feels obligated to at least try to make things better. but it’s really hard for her to move past everything to connect with rebecca (which also makes her feel like she’s disappointing rook).

Relationship with Bobby: they were together for a long time and veronica thought she loved him a lot! it was her first relationship, so she wasn’t sure a) what a “bad partner” looked like, or b) how to even be in a relationship or rely on someone in that way. so they spent a lot of time together and had great superficial chemistry, but veronica didn’t have enough experience with not feeling neglected to realize how shallow it was, or notice the red flags when she did occasionally open up. the plagiarism fiasco was a slap in the face, especially because it cost her internships/grad school apps/whatever, i don’t have the details, and forced her to move back to wayhaven after school. she’s still very hurt by it and finds it hard to be around bobby.

Relationship with Verda: due to the above plagiarism fiasco, veronica was pretty depressed when she moved back home, and disliking her job didn’t help. she was extremely jealous when verda was hired and wanted to hate him. but it did not take long for that to crumble into respect/admiration, and eventually into close friendship! verda is a role model for her; they bond over science; they joke easily and have good chill fun. she was really excited to see him piecing together the truth about the supernatural and then devastated to see how he reacted. she feels insanely guilty and thinks it was selfish of her to let him figure it out, but is also cautiously optimistic about making it up to him as of the book 3 demo.

Relationship with Tina: very close! veronica isolated herself when she came back to wayhaven after school, and she is so grateful to tina for being her closest friend and link to the rest of the world during that time. hates keeping the supernatural from her, though. she didn’t like lying to tina to begin with, but she feels even worse about it now that verda knows, and now that tina has clearly picked up on something being wrong but she still can’t say anything.

Relationship with the Mayor: cannot stand him. hates the way he talks about rook, hates the way he talks to rebecca. she cooperates as necessary but doesn’t bother hiding her lack of patience/respect for him.

Relationship with Capt. Sung: basically fine. i think veronica might be a little too casual for him in the way she works, but she always gets the job done so he’s not too bothered by it. (she is ‘bend the rules,’ but more ‘strict rules aren’t important as long as you’re still doing good work’ than the ‘boooo fuck paperwork’ variety. so it’s mostly fine.) she also appreciates him as a minor link to rook.

Relationship with Haley: very friendly, but not super close. they get along great and could make pleasant conversation for hours, but ultimately don’t know each other super well despite the familiarity of growing up together.

Relationship with Elidor: such a comforting presence for veronica during her recovery! she is so grateful, so fond.

Relationship with Tapeesa/Vieno: veronica loves vieno’s cranky-yet-friendly vibe and they get along well! not close, but will stop to chat whenever they pass each other.

Relationship with Unit Alpha: loves their energy. always looks forward to the next opportunity to chat with them, and fully supports any harmless dunking on UB even if she rarely joins in.

Relationship with the Maa-alused: going through the house of mirrors and then coming home for them to appear in her apartment and infect bobby was one of thee worst experiences of her life, and it’s hard for her to get past that + the illness in general. sympathizes with them, and got them to sign the treaty, but is still kind of unsettled by everything that happened and by falk.

Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): some vague figures i have in mind but no one i’ve really developed. a couple friends from college, and maybe an elderly couple that lives on her childhood street and used to check in her.

PERSONAL BIO

Describe their personality: her usual demeanor is very warm and casual. sincere but private--she’s pretty blunt and likes to be direct with people, but steers conversations away from personal topics. likes to joke around and doesn’t take herself that seriously. but behind all this, she’s extremely stubborn and won’t shy away from conflict if she thinks you’re in the wrong (which is why she seems like a different person in the first half of book 1. UB is surprised by how like... chill and nice she is once they clear the air). a workaholic, self-reliant and secure but still pretty hard on herself, takes a lot of responsibility for the people around her.

Strengths: so dedicated. honest and trustworthy, has a strong moral compass and can always be counted on to do her absolute best. flexible and intuitive, her brain works really fast.

Weaknesses: cannot compartmentalize or separate herself from a case, throws herself so recklessly into everything (in terms of both physical danger and emotional burnout). doesn’t necessarily hold grudges but has a hard time letting go of hurt, still can’t think objectively about bobby or rebecca.

Where in the world is their Wayhaven?: somewhere on the US east coast idk what to tell you. perhaps a carolina or a virginia.

What is their personal history?: veronica was pretty social and well-liked around wayhaven growing up. she was known as just a really good kid; she was an overachiever and got along with almost anyone. in college, she felt like she was free of something and took a very work hard/play hard approach to life. always doing or going, whether it was for school or work or fun. she really enjoyed life during this time but crashed and burned pretty hard when she and bobby broke up; a lot of her plans were delayed until the plagiarism incident was resolved and she didn’t really have the heart to pursue them afterwards.

a year or so after graduating, she returned to wayhaven with the intention of taking one more year to regroup, and she has been stuck there longer than she meant to be and has kind of hit a wall when book 1 starts.

If they weren't a detective, what would their dream job be?: she was on track to become a biochemist and it was her dream job but then the main plot happened to her.

Anything else you'd like to share: i don’t really know enough to fully explain this, but no OC i love is a cop so like. i think maybe the job she took when she got back to wayhaven was a douglas-esque receptionist role for detective reele’s private office. then reele retired and small town politics + veronica’s history of useful contributions to cases in her downtime at work led to her being pressured to take up the mantle. it’s hard to explain why she’s a detective when she so deeply does not want to be one but i am Trying (or maybe she would have jumped at the chance to do something marginally closer to forensics?? who knows)

RANDOM FACTS

Zodiac sign: aries is what i assigned her when i first made her and i think it suits her! plus it’d be fun for her and M to be twins. this goes hand-in-hand with my birthday commitment issues though

Hobbies: music (she plays guitar and bass and sings a little), running, gaming unfortunately. i could also see her having been into boxing or some martial art but idk what exactly!

Likes: early morning stillness, DIY projects, t-shirts with inexplicable slogans and other weird thrift store finds

Dislikes: overly sweet food or drink, when cold weather lasts too long, being lied to or “protected” from the truth

Drink of choice: something with gin maybe. also feels a great fondness and gratitude for cheap wine.

Starbucks order: i truly know nothing about coffee. is it weird to order black coffee at starbucks

Favorite food: variations on spicy chicken soup! she eats a lot of crockpot meals for convenience and they’ve grown on her, and she has a few different recipes based on whatever she has on hand.

Favorite color: maybe like a rusty orange

Favorite music: she will listen to anything, but her favorite is probably folk rock, or sometimes stuff with soul or old school country vibes. big thief is a good example of an artist she’d be into i think! also was very into the indie music scene in her college town and still follows some of those bands.

Favorite genre (and favorite movie/book/etc): loves old, campy, unselfconsciously optimistic sci-fi. loves star trek tos. also a fan of documentaries of all kinds.

Favorite season: summer

Anything else you'd like to share: a kiss for you reading this mwah

[dottiechan]

Tempest (Pt. 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 

 Read on AO3

Pairing: Ava Du Mortain x f!Detective

Wordcount: 2031

Warnings: murder, mentions of prostitution & drugs

Summary: Ava and the Detective must pull an all-nighter working on a case on Christmas Eve, 1896.

A/N: Happy Holidays! What better way to celebrate or relax this December than with some soft Ava? Huge thanks to @sparkedupsilver​​ for being an absolute delight and giving me brilliant ideas about locations! <3

Image credit: Pixoloid Studios, Alienist: The Angest of Darkness concept art

London, Christmas Eve, 1896

A woman appears on the street, retreating into the shadows as she heads into the heart of the district, avoiding the light of the gas lamps illuminating the road in yellow circles. She is barely wearing anything to fend off the chilling wind and the snow - a torn shift several sizes too big for her underneath a corset, the sleeves spilling down her upper arms to reveal a set of bony shoulders. Even through the darkness, Ava can see the way she shakes, the dried blood sitting on her upper lip she haphazardly tried to wipe off with the back of her hand. She can almost smell her craving.

She’d put her money on cocaine if she had to guess what’s left the young prostitute in such an abominable state. That is, if she gambled, of course. Or cared much about the poisonous substances humans consumed for medicinal use or - as in this young woman’s case - their temporary bliss. The most accurate label for her as a whole would be a misanthrope, as Nate has so eloquently stated it on many occasions before, but she finds herself shifting and morphing into something else – she can feel it. She cares what she puts in her body. She cares what she does to herself. What is the term for a woman who would give herself up in a heartbeat solely to ensure the safety of another?

Her eyes shift from the window as she dares a glance inside the office. She snaps her head back in an instant when she realises what she’s doing. Don’t be a fool.

It’s her personal mantra these days.

Instead, she focuses on the woman outside, watches her as she leaves High Street and hurries down Whitechapel Road. She takes a sudden turn left, and disappears down an unlit alley. There are conventional ways to celebrate a white Christmas, and many of the Whitechapel residents seem to re-think what that festivity means for them. Not that Ava can particularly blame them - the circumstances in the worst slums of London are hardly its residents’ fault, and more so that of the authorities’. This area is relatively safe, but that is only because the recurring police patrols end with High Street – a necessary but superficial effort to quell the legacy of terror Jack the Ripper had left behind. (As if mere policemen could keep anyone safe from a werewolf like the Ripper was, Ava scoffs inwardly.) Beyond High Street is chaos and misery, and unfortunately cesspools like that offer the rot of rogue supernaturals a place to fester and spread quickly. Despite Ava’s best efforts, the detective has refused countless times to even consider selling the small flat she uses as her office to relocate to Chelsea or Marylebone or even Westminster.

And the thought of another rogue element potentially rising so close to the private detective’s office upsets Ava more than she cares to admit.

While other agents pursue the rogue supernatural, Ava is still assigned to her protection, loaned as a partner to her small detective agency she’s inherited from her father - at least that is what the detective thinks this setup means. Normally, Ava would be deeply offended by such a role. A mere bodyguard, compelled to deal with the crimes of mortals, a true retrogression in her career. But she finds herself caring, and that alone is more alarming than the Agency’s decision to keep her in her current position. This little act she puts on, the game she plays that plants the fallacy of their partnership in the private detective’s mind, it rings truer than it should, means more than what is allowed. It has been like this for months now, and with each passing day, the lie grows a little heavier. She wonders when it will finally crush them both.

She listens to the detective bustle in the tiny kitchen of the office, and the moment - heavy with the honeyed comfort of quiet domesticity - is enough to make her heart ache. She would never in a million years admit it, but leaving this place, this job, this woman... It would be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do.

So when she joins Ava by the window and offers her a cup of steaming, strong coffee - she doesn’t even like it, and she doesn’t understand why the detective would drink it to keep her awake, let alone consume it on the regular - she accepts wordlessly. The night casts long shadows across the office, hiding them both in a world where no one else exists other than the two of them. Ava never had neither the heart nor the mind for poetry the way Nate does, but in this moment, as their shoulders absent-mindedly touch, her skin burning up with the heat of her body even through her shirt and the detective’s soft leg o’ muttons sleeve, she could attest to her fatal attraction in a fashion that would shame even the great poets of old.

But that is all it really is. Fatal in every sense of the word.

Ava contemplates speaking to her about what is on her mind, but the words get stuck in her throat, and she forces them back down with a sip of strong coffee.

“There’s work to be done.” Too  callous, she scolds herself inwardly, even if it is true. There are many old articles about relating murders they have to revisit, along with what they know of previous victims through the morsels of information Commissioner Bradford has loaned the detective out of respect for her late father with whom they served together in the military. The woman on her right mistakes her tone for annoyance, and Ava finds herself steeling her insides when her concerned gaze finds her deceptively pallid face.

“I’m sorry I’ve dragged you into this. It’s Christmas Eve, I understand if you wanted to be anywhere else than here.”

I don’t. I really don’t. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. “I have nowhere else to be.”

“No family?” the private detective asks, eyebrows raised in a way Ava knows she has her undivided attention. She never wants this moment to end, never wants her to look at anyone else like this other than her.

“Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Silence settles on them for a while, and they watch the snowfall in a quiet trance. They have work to do, and yet they stand side by side, unable to move, unwilling to break this moment of silent admission that yes, yes, this can work, this can be home, you can be home...

Ava is shocked when the detective’s fingers - scorching hot from the cup of coffee she’s been cradling - graze her knuckles lightly, so lightly that she’d wonder if it was even on purpose if she couldn’t feel her eyes on her once more.

“I don’t have anyone left anymore either. I know what it is like. Which is why I’m thankful that you’re here now,” she begins softly, her bare honesty so alluring Ava finds herself turning to her. She knows she shouldn’t. She knows she will force herself to punish her for this open admission with coldness and retreat, but for a second, she wants to pretend that this is allowed, that this is as right as it feels in her no longer trustworthy bones.

“You’re thankful you’re chasing a murderer on Christmas Eve?”

“I could do without that,” the detective snorts, deciding to take Ava’s blunt question as a joke. Her face grows serious too quickly, and before Ava can react, her hand is in her gentle grasp as the woman closes whatever little distance is left between them. “But not without you. Not now.”

Ava opens her mouth to say something, anything other than the truth, ready to take a full step back when the detective raises her eyes, poorly masking the pain that finds itself on her beautiful features. The agent feels cold dread seize her spine, like icy rain slipping down and over each vertebra - for a split second, she thinks the detective can feel her inner turmoil. That she always pulls away and retreats because she is terrified of her desire to do the very opposite.

“Ava, just... Please don’t say anything. I know what you want to say now. I know. But I don’t want to hear it,” she whispers, paralysing the vampire with mere words. “I know we don’t think the same way about voicing what we feel for each other. It is plain. I understand. But for a second I want to pretend that us holding hands and sharing a tender moment is just as innocuous as anything else.”

“But it isn’t,” Ava quickly speaks, the lie coming out almost seamlessly as she pulls her hand back slowly, clutching her now cool cup of coffee with both hands to prevent any further contact between them. “It is harmful. Can’t you see that?”

“I can.”

“And yet you don’t much care for it.”

“Do I look like a woman who cares much for societal conventions?” the detective asks as she finally steps away from Ava, gesturing around the room. The agent can’t help but silently agree - a woman who’s also a private detective, well, in a way she should have seen this argument coming.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have to abide the rules,” Ava breathes, her usual strength still annoyingly eluding her as she takes a seat in one of the armchairs, the files and newspaper clippings once more within reach as she sets her cup down on the side table.

“You do not have to go to such lengths to prove what I already know,” the detective sighs in defeat, retreating behind her great mahogany desk, the only piece of furnishing aside from the once elegant, but now rather decrepit chaise longue that is worth something in this office. There’s a painful distance now between them, one that hurts them both, especially when put in stark contrast with their earlier close proximity.

“And what it is you think you know?” Ava means for her tone to get under the detective’s skin, to dislodge this idea stuck in her head that there’s something going on between them - instead it comes out too slow, too pleading, too deep and raw. A dead giveaway that perks up the woman like a hunting dog picking up on a scent. But she soon deflates - what she thinks a momentary victory is gone the second Ava looks away and focuses on the neat stack of folders she insisted on organising herself.

“That you’re afraid,” she replies anyways, opening a folder on top of her own stack and peering at Ava over it in a way that makes the vampire swallow her quip in an instant. There is truth in her words, and while she cannot, will not confirm it, she silently wants to speak to her. She silently wants to tell her the twisted things she makes her feel after 800 years of blessed solitude.

“But one day, you won’t be, Ava. And when that day comes, don’t be too surprised to find me waiting for you still.”

I am immortal. By the time I could rid myself of all my fears and stand in front of you as the uninhibited and unapologetic woman you deserve, you’d be long gone.

Immortal doesn’t mean infinitely wise, that is something Ava learns in another 365 days. Afraid doesn’t mean not being uninhibited. Cautious doesn’t mean not being unapologetic. The detective blurs the black and white of her world, and with this action the confining borders are gone too.

Four months and she won’t pull her hand away.

A year and she’ll let the detective tilt her face down to meet her lips with a kiss.

Two years and she will be long gone, four and the detective will be dead.

But now, she doesn’t know all that. Now, she buries the confusing conundrum of her love for the detective deep inside her and sets out to work in blissful ignorance.

[inkribbon796]

Egotober Day 31: Boil, Boil, Toil and Trouble

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Prompt: Happy Halloween

Summary: It’s the end of the spooky season and the heroes and villains met up.

A/N: It’s J.J and Google’s birthdays.

And with that is the close of another Egotober. I’m glad you all could be here with me for this. I’ll be here on the third for another birthday post and then on Friday for my regular uploads. Have fun and stay safe out there everyone.

Warnings: none

Another year passed, another year come and gone, and it was the heroes and the villains’ meet-up, one of their only truce days.

Several people weren’t there that normally came every year. Logan was understandably not in attendance and Joan and Virgil had stayed at the apartment with him as they watched The Nightmare Before Christmas and the Addams Family movies. Oliver had stayed at the base to avoid Google, a good idea since Google only came to see if Oliver was there. Chase had stayed with Oliver to avoid seeing Dark’s face. And Nate was out of town with Mare on a tour.

Still, the tenuous truce remained.

The Host had pulled Illinois and Bim aside briefly before they entered the building that the meet-up was being held at.

There was an important matter that the Host wanted to discuss and Dark was reassured everything was fine before he let them hang back and enter the festivities shortly after.

But everything was not fine.

“This is completely absurd,” Bim told him. “How are you sure this is even going to work?”

“The Host is only certain that without aid, he and the others will fail,” the Host admitted.

“So what are we supposed to do?” Illinois asked. “You’re a shit liar, how are you gonna get past Dark?”

“No,” the Host corrected. “The Host needs Illinois to lie to the Entity. Because he is the only one who could get away with.”

Illinois groaned, rolling his eyes,”Fine, I’ll think of something but if he gets pissed I’m blaming your cryptic ass.”

“The Host is not opposed to that, so long as things are taken care of,” the Host smiled. “Now, the Host and his brothers should join the others. Before the Entity gets concerned and comes looking for them.”

“But I have questions,” Bim reminded.

“Not while prying eyes can find, the three of them talk tomorrow,” the Host promised.

Bim protested a bit but the Host helped the three of them slipped back into the group. They came into the room while Dark and King were in the middle of an argument.

“We can’t get a cat, Kay,” King snapped at Dark. Dark rolled his eyes. “We can’t get a dog, Kay. It’s not safe. It’ll die.”

Dark pinched the bridge of his nose, “Kaylor.”

“And then what do you do the instant I leave?” King spat. “You get a fucking cat! And name it after yourself!”

“Wil brought him into the house and named him, and the thing was half-dead,” Dark defended. “You would have been angrier if I had allowed it to die.”

Wilford chuckled from where he was sitting next to Dark, “You know you love ol’ Damsy, Dark. The little scamp always tries to sleep in our bed.”

“Don’t undermine me in front of everyone,” Dark glared at Wil.

The madman just smiled at Dark, loudly scooting his chair closer. “Let’s just enjoy the party. Have a couple drinks with me.”

“I’m not done complaining at him,” King pointed at Dark.

Wilford was suddenly standing next to King, slinging an arm around his neck. “Come on my boy, you like bourbon right?”

“Not really,” King told him, glancing at Abe. “I wasn’t old enough to drink when I left.”

“Ahh, I know you and Illy stole some of Dark’s wine on multiple occasions,” Wil smiled.

“What was that?” Dark demanded.

“Nothing,” Illinois told him. “I’m getting a drink.”

Google had been watching the argument from a distance, and he noticed that Bing was walking up to him.

“Hey, Googs,” Bing greeted when he stopped next to the other android. “We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to discuss with you,” Google grumbled angrily at him.

“If we don’t do something about Green he’s going to kill Ollie,” Bing reminded sharply.

“Green is restricted from destroying Oliver’s central drive,” Google dismissed. “Oliver will be fine, even if I have to rebuild the rest of him from scratch.”

Bing glared at Google, “Either you do something, dude, or I will.”

“Is that so?” Google’s tone was suddenly far more serious. “Will you?”

Bing looked at the other android right in the optic cameras that served as his eyes. “Yeah, I will. He can’t keep terrorizing Ollie.”

“You won’t kill him, you’ve deviated so far from your objective that you aren’t even capable of it,” Google dared.

“Don’t need to kill him, but I will make him stop,” Bing warned.

Google stared blankly at him, before looking away, “I am leaving, I have work to do.”

Bing watched him go. Google left without a goodbye to anyone, not even to Dark. Bing left to go back to the base.

As the part continued, J.J noticed that Dark seemed to be watching the crowd. He wasn’t mingling like he tended to do, his usual attempts to get information about their civilian identities.

This year he was minding his own business, except when an increasingly drunk Wil was trying to climb into Dark’s arms.

“Looking for something?” J.J asked.

“Illinois’s boyfriend,” Dark said out loud, moving his hands to sign as he spoke.

J.J felt a bit of apprehension, “How do you know he has a boyfriend?”

Dark chuckled, “I’ve known Illinois for years. I know what the ‘Plus One tax’ looks like on my invoices. That and he labeled some of his expenses as “Cariño” and Illinois would never put the wrong gender to mislead me.”

“Plus One tax?” J.J spelled the word out like Dark had.

“When Illinois has someone who travels with him and he’s keen on them,” Dark’s signing got a little less precise with his words, “they become his travel partners and unlike another person in his travel team, the expenses for that person is sometimes double what it normally is. Or triple if Illinois is particularly taken. It’s fairly adorable and it’s his money so he can spend it how wants, but I always like to attach a face to the expenses.”

“Why are you looking for him here?” J.J asked.

Dark’s answer was a smile, “That’s the only thing I know about him. I have my suspicions, but so far I’ve only cleared Crank.”

“You are tracking him,” J.J began to ask, “how do you not know?”

“Illinois isn’t the only one who loves a good mystery,” Dark was looking at Illinois who was trying to tend to an increasingly drunk Bim who was overenthusiastic about being at the party. “When Illinois is ready, he’ll tell me.”

J.J did smile at that. The evening was relatively fun, if more than a bit tense. Dark sent Bim and Wil through a portal, taking Illinois with him and ignoring when Illinois left the Manor soon after to go and visit his boyfriend.

The party slowly began to disperse after that, the atmosphere less tense after Dark and Bim left, in the hope that less year the meet-up would be significantly less strained.

[impalialarmy]

B A S I C S

Full name: Ash Michael Langford

Nickname: Just Ash

Gender: Male

Age: 28

Height: 5′8

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pronouns: he/him/his

Temperament: Sanguine

Zodiac: Pisces

O T H E R

Family: Rebecca Langford (mother), Aaron Langford (father)

Birthplace: Wayhaven

Job: Detective with the Wayhaven PD & human liaison to “The Agency”

Phobias: Seeing his own blood makes him nauseous after the incident with Murphy.

Guilty Pleasures: Sour Candies in particular, he’s always got some on him.

Hobbies: Reading; both fiction and nonfiction (probably scientific journals he and Verda pick apart together). He’s got his own vegetable patch in his little garden. Enjoys trying to cultivate and breed different plant species. Learning new languages is also a favourite way to pass time.

Languages: English, Spanish, French and Latin. Total Polyglot.

M O R A L S

Morality Alignment: Neutral Good

Sins: Pride/Wrath <– Something Adam likes to bring out

Virtues: Justice/Charity

T H I S  O R  T H A T

introvert / extrovert

organized / disorganized

close-minded / open-minded

calm / anxious / restless

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient

outspoken / reserved

leader / follower / flexible

empathetic / unempathetic

optimistic / pessimistic / realistic

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

OTP: Adam/Ash

BroTP: Ash/Felix

DESCRIPTION

Raven haired and hazel eyed, Ash Langford tends to leave an impression.

A vibrant man who’s openly friendly and very perceptive to other peoples emotions. He’s warm and easy going but he’s also got a shrewdness to him which is why his career as a detective took off so quickly. Curiosity shapes many parts of Ash’s life as he always finds some new topic to bury his nose in; from languages to botany to medieval pottery.

At university he studied organic chemistry, but despite his degree he still went into law enforcement when it was suggested to him. Even though he always dreamed of leaving Wayhaven he couldn’t help but be drawn back to the town and it’s people; as well as the career that took his fathers life. Perhaps he stayed to become a detective to add some meaning to his fathers death.  

Despite his intelligence, there’s certainly a scatterbrained aspect to him, his office is so completely disorganised Tina gets headaches when she sits in there for too long.

His first encounter with Unit Bravo was a mixed bag to say the least.

Eventually he ended up building solid relationships with the entirety of the team. Nate and Felix both get along great with him. Ash’s mischievous temperament rises to the challenge whenever Felix has some wacky idea; and Nate’s sincerity is greatly appreciated by Ash, and they often find their ideals lining up exceptionally well.

Mason didn’t leave much of an impression on Ash at first, other than his incessant smoking in his damn office. After working together for a few months as a team, Ash came to realise the importance of Mason working in the team. How he fought without hesitation for his teammates against Murphy, even when the chance of coming out alive was so low.

Mason also came to appreciate the way Ash never backed down from conflict, how he’d always throw a punch back whenever someone tried to step on him.

Speaking of conflict, his first meeting with Adam did not go well at all, he quickly learned that the other man brings out the fiery side in him. Ash couldn’t stand Commander Du Mortain at first; horrified by his arrogance and bull-headed personality. Adams open hostility led to a number of blow out fights between the two, since Ash would certainly not let this man talk down to him in such condescending a way. Especially not at his precinct.

However, eventually Ash saw the better side of Adam; the one thats loyal and deeply devoted to those he cares about. As they found common ground they began getting along, finding mutual appreciation in each others perseverance and skill. Their vastly different personalities actually balanced the other out, making them mesh incredibly well when they actually listened to each other.

Ash also enjoys teasing Adam, trying to push his buttons and see what kind of reaction he can get. However, he has far too much pride to openly flirt with him, that would mean defeat in this battle of wits. Adam seemingly takes joy in riling up the other man from time to time as well; throwing little jibes just to see the way Ash’s eyes narrow and how his nose crinkles.

Even after their relationship had become a positive one, they still have genuine, heated arguments frequently enough that it strains Ash. The secretive and controlling side of Adam is something that bothers him more than he cares to admit.  

Deep down Ash knows just how much Adam cares for him; and how much he himself reciprocates those feelings. It’s something he would never bring up from fear of Adams reaction. Not that he would ever admit that.

Also, yes he dated Bobby in college, and no he doesn’t know why he did it either.

F U N   F A C T S

1.       After Ash’s penultimate fight with Bobby that led to the latter finally getting kicked out; Ash set fire to his £400 cashmere blazer while standing on the balcony as Bobby watched in horror. He still doesn’t feel bad.

2.       Ash and Verda once got so incredibly hammered while peer reviewing someone’s scientific paper on forensic toxicology, that they ended their review by calling the authors a bunch of half brained pillocks who wouldn’t know the difference between NADH and NADPH if it swung a bat in their face. Verda is currently barred from writing anything for the Journal of Forensic Science.

3.       Ash is extremely allergic to any type of nut. A first date with a very handsome lawyer ended with Ash viciously throwing up over the dinner table after two mouthfuls of contaminated food. The lawyer still ended up sleeping with him.

4.       During a fight with Adam, Ash once got so angry that he burst a blood vessel in his eye. Adam immediately tried to call the Agency paramedics, which just started another fight.

5.       Once while driving he accidentally hit a woodpecker that flew into his front window. He was late to work that day because cried for 30 minutes in his car on the side of the road. At the station when Tina asked him what was wrong, he told her that Douglas had given him a PB&J sandwich.

6. Ash has Adam listed in his phone as COMMANDER ANGST in all caps.

7.       After finding out that Adam hated puns, Ash made it his personal mission to find the most obnoxiously lame puns known to man. He and Felix have competitions who can make the most in the shortest amount of time. Once Ash made a pun so bad Adam accidentally punched a hole in the wall of his office.

8.       When Tane hit on him during his first meeting with Unit Alpha, Ash was 1000% into it. He did not appreciate Adams cock-blocking.

9.       Felix loves asking Ash about random topics and listening to him waffle on for ages about the most obscure aspects of human history and culture. While Adam pretends it annoying, he secretly loves listening to them as well.

10.   Ash did in fact attack Mason with a fire extinguisher after he lit a cigarette in his office one too many times.  

Template by @lavellanpls

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

When You Least Expect It, Part Eleven

Jensen x Musician!Reader; Briana Buckmaster, Rob Benedict; Gen & Jared Padalecki (mentioned)

Masterlist - Contains Chapter Links & Wardrobe Collages

A/N: This is a slow burn fic that I have been working on for a while. Its a story I wrote for myself and just wanted to share with everyone. Yes, the “Dee” in the story is who you think, but there is no intended hate on her or their actual marriage. It is a work of fiction, that is all. Part eleven is from the Both POV. There is also a playlist to go along with the series.

A/N Pt. 2: This is a BIG chapter, guys. In length and in the story. This is probably a smidge past the halfway point and as such will serve as a little intermission while I pause to work on a few other things and get my challenge started. So, grab some snacks, get comfy and dive in!

A/N Pt. 3: Below is the link to the playlist. A song used in this chapter, “You’re The One That I Want” <--(youtube link here) is a cover by Alex & Sierra, and if you listen to it where it is within the fic, you’ll have a clearer vision of how it's being performed. 

Spotify Playlist: Songs in this chapter - “ You’re The One That I Want ”

I tell her all the time, but I’m beyond grateful for all the help @closetspngirl has given me with this whole thing and specifically this chapter. Check out the wardrobe she put together for the party! She’s the absolute bee's knees! 

Chapter Summary: The fall out from the break-in, followed by a tense argument with Jensen, causes Y/N to reach her breaking point. She finally comes to terms with what she wants and tries to find a way to convey this to Jensen.

Chapter Warnings: Language, arguing, angst, smut

WC: 14K **with lyrics. Lyrics NOT written by me in bold, italic.

*Banner created by me; pics & gifs found online.

Tags are open if you want on, or wanna hop off.

“I’m gonna be sick…” Y/N said as she tiptoed through the living room, trying to avoid the mess of broken glass and couch remnants strewn across the floor. She tried to wrap her head around what had transpired, but she could only stand there, blinking absently at what she was seeing.

The couch had been slashed and shredded, pieces of stuffing and swatches of cloth were everywhere. The glass from the coffee table had been broken into a thousand pieces, by what she had no idea. Red wine stained the floor throughout the room and looked as if it was even sprayed on the walls.

“Jesus,” Jensen whispered to himself as he approached the place where the glass balcony doors used to be. “Who the hell wanted to get in here so damn bad that they’d throw a brick through the fucking glass?”

“Sir, if you could just stay on this side of the room, we’re still collecting evidence,” one of the officers called out from the entryway. “You shouldn’t even be here yet.”

Jensen stepped back and took Y/N gently by the shoulders, trying to comfort her the best he could.

“Excuse me,” a new voice chimed in from behind, “you’re the homeowners?”

Jensen and Y/N turned around and was greeted by an older man in his mid-sixties, in a worn dark blue suit. “Yeah, she lives here,” Jensen answered for her and shook the man’s hand.

“I’m Detective Perkins, sorry to have to meet under these circumstances,” he said to Jensen, then looked to Y/N. “I’m sure this is quite upsetting, but if you could think of anyone who may want to scare you--”

“Why would you ask if someone was trying to scare her?” Jensen asked sharply. “It's a burglary, right?”

“Well, no. I don’t think so. Upon inspection of the premises, it appears all electronics and valuables are accounted for. Of course, we will need you to look through everything to see if something’s missing, but a preliminary walk through and assessment of the damage seems more like a scare tactic than an actual break-in.”

“The whole place is like this?” Y/N asked, her voice small and lost in the room.

“Yes, ma’am. I can take you upstairs if you want. If you’d like to gather some items--”

“Yes, please,” she said and exhaled shakily.

“Y/N, I can go up if you want. Why don’t you--”

“No, I have to go. But, please come with me,” she whispered in a broken, defeated tone.

“Of course, I wouldn’t let you go alone.” Jensen took her hand in his and squeezed it, then looked at the detective. “After you.”

When they reached the second floor, Detective Perkins opened her bedroom door. Y/N walked through first and was immediately hit by the strong fragrance of perfume; her own perfume, but far too concentrated. As she walked further into the room, she noticed the closet door was open, and the few clothes that were left hanging up in there were cut into pieces and tossed around the room. The comforter of the bed was wet with what she could only assume was the remnants of her favorite fragrance.

“What the fuck?” She heard Jensen say, and slowly turned around to look where he was looking.

Written across the mirror of her dresser, in dark red lipstick, was the word WHORE. Her throat went dry, and she could feel her body go cold. She now understood why the detective said what he did. This was meant to scare her, right out of Austin and back to New Jersey; back to Nate.

“This has to be Nathan,” she said and took a few steps closer, but stopped, afraid to actually be within reach of the heinous violation.

“Who’s Nathan? He got a last name?” Perkins asked abruptly.

“Fowler,” she said in a near whisper. “Nathan Fowler.”

Detective Perkins took out his little notebook and scribbled down the name before tucking it away and turning to Jensen. “Where were the two of you tonight?”

“All due respect, detective, can the questions wait until tomorrow? I would really like to get what we need and get her out of here.”

“I understand that, but the sooner we can--”

“That’s not mine,” Y/N said, not even hearing the conversation happening beside her. “That… that lipstick…” she pointed at the mirror.

“Ma’am?” Perkins asked.

“The lipstick used to write on the mirror,” she said again and this time took the few extra steps towards it but didn’t dare touch it. “If it was Nathan, he brought that in himself, because it's not mine. I would never wear that color.”

“But I know someone who would wear it,” Jensen mumbled and took a closer look himself. He sighed deeply and bit the inside of his lip to try and help contain some of the rage that had been building.

Y/N noticed the change in his demeanor when his body became more rigid. “What?”

“Dee,” Jensen said through gritted teeth. “I’d know that color anywhere.”

Y/N saw his hands clenching and felt the sudden need to get out of the house. The whole place felt ugly and violated. That, more than the damage that had been done, bothered her most of all.

“Jay, let’s just go. Let them figure out who it was. You don’t know…”

“My gut says it is.”

“No offense, Mr. Ackles, but we can’t arrest someone on your gut,” Perkins replied with an air of condensation. “Why don’t you gather what you need, check to see if there’s any jewelry missing or other valuables. Tomorrow, come on down to the station and you can answer some questions for me, alright?”

Y/N just nodded. Her eyes went back to the mirror and as she saw her reflection through the lipstick crusted words, she knew that regardless if it was Dee or Nathan, they weren’t going away.

“What I need?” she mumbled in a defeated whisper. “I don’t know what to take, I don’t really need anything much I guess,” she said quietly and motioned towards the suitcase that was still packed from various bouts of traveling. “I can just take that. But I’d like to go to the loft and get a few things.”

“Well, that may be a problem,” Perkins groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Come on, I’ll show ya.”

The loft was the worst of all the rooms; it had been completely trashed. Papers were torn and thrown around the room. Like the downstairs, the couch had been slashed, stuffing pulled and sprinkled around like soft puffs of snow. Mixed into the fabric batting were small, gray chunks of plastic. It took her a minute, but Y/N finally realized what she was seeing.

“That’s my laptop,” she said pointing to the fragments. “Motherfucker smashed my laptop, too.”

Now she really did feel sick. Y/N wavered on her feet for a moment but Jensen was there to steady her.

“All our work…” she breathed, a swell of nausea rooting in her gut. She shook her head slowly, then was hit by an ironic bout of laughter. “Boy is Robbie gonna give me a big ‘I told you so’.”

Jensen looked at her curiously. “Uh, why?”

“The cloud. He’s a lunatic about uploading everything to the cloud. So the important stuff is saved, but… All these papers will have to be reprinted. We have to--”

“That can wait,” Jensen interjected gently. “It’s not important right now, okay? Just grab whatever you came up here for, and let’s get out of the way so they can do what they need to.”

She walked further into the room and saw the broken picture frame peeking out from under a piece of the laptop’s keyboard. The frame had been destroyed, but the picture of her father was thankfully still intact. She carefully slid it from the broken glass and folded it before putting it in her back pocket.

Y/N continued to scan the room, then began to panic when she couldn’t find her guitar. She had left it against the wall earlier that morning but it wasn’t there now. Y/N walked towards the drum kit at the far end of the room and saw how someone beat on it relentlessly with something, and that’s when she knew…

“No…” she whispered, and despite being asked not to touch anything, she began to sift through the wreckage of the room. “No, no, no…” she just kept saying over and over as the white puffs of batting were floating through the air around her.

Jensen was by her side and trying to pull her up from doing so, but it was too late. Beneath the mess of debris, was the remnants of her guitar. Slowly she bent down and found the wooden neck of her old Gibson. She cradled it for a minute and ran her fingers along the fractured frets and curled strings. An ache began to grow in her chest, and Y/N sat back on the floor with a thud, not caring about what was beneath her. The splintered piece of guitar fell into her lap when she put her head in her hands, then began to cry. Her shoulders shook silently as the magnitude of what she’d just lost sunk in. Jensen sat beside her with his arms around her shoulders, letting her lean into his chest and just cry as he rocked her gently in an effort to give her comfort. He closed his eyes and rested his lips to her hair, kissing her head and desperately wishing he could somehow make this all better.

Detective Perkins allowed them a few minutes before he cleared his throat to try and get Jensen’s attention.

“Mr. Ackles…”

“Yeah,” he said, partially turning towards Perkins, and seeing the uniformed officers waiting to search the room. “One minute.”

Jensen turned back to Y/N and brushed away the hair that had obscured her face. “Hey, sweetheart…” he tone was gentle and soft. “...we have to go. They need to get in here, so they can figure out--”

“Nate. It had to be,” she said flatly, but when she looked up at him, her eyes were anything but. They were wet and vibrating with disgust, anger, and sadness. Jensen had never seen her this way, and the look she wore broke his heart and as he used the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away the tears that rested on her cheeks.

“We need to let them prove that, then. They can’t do that when we’re in the way.”

Jensen started to stand, and Y/N followed his lead without hesitation. “Anything besides the suitcase?” he asked. “What about Mama’s things?”

Y/N shook her head. “She’s staying at the Marriott. I told her to stay here, but she didn’t want to in case we wanted the place to ourselves.” Y/N snorted a laugh and smiled apologetically, despite still trembling from the emotion she just expelled.

Jensen shook his head with slight exasperation. “Well, bless her heart, she really is something.” He waited for Y/N to retrieve the piece of the guitar from the floor before he put his arm around her shoulder, turning her towards the door and away from the heartbreaking scene.

“Ma’am, you really can’t take that with you, its evidence,” one of the officers said and motioned towards the piece of the guitar in her hand.

Y/N froze and looked at the broken instrument in her hand. She took a moment to let her eyes glaze over it because she knew that leaving it here meant she would never see it again. A touch of Jensen’s hand on the upper part of her arm gave her the strength to set it down and lean it gently against the wall.

“Sorry, ma’am,” the officer said quietly when he saw the weight of sadness in her eyes.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Jensen said and lead her from the house.

Jensen lifted her suitcase into the back of his truck and climbed into the driver’s side. Y/N was already buckled in, her fingers absently toying with the pendant he bought her. They sat in silence for a moment just absorbing everything that had happened in the span of the last hour.

“My dad bought me that guitar,” she said once he was settled in the truck. “Found it in a pawn shop near the house when I was twelve. It was old and out of tune, but I loved it and nursed it back to health. Now it’s…” she trailed off with a delicate sigh, and shrugged one shoulder up enough to brush the fresh tears off her cheek. “Where am I gonna go, Jay?” she asked, her voice small and broken. “I can’t… I don’t wanna be here, even if it's clean--”

“You stay with me. End of story,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Jensen…”

“Don’t Jensen, me. You’re staying at my place and that’s that.” He was forceful but still gentle in his tone.

“And how’s that gonna work? You’re in Vancouver now. I’m just going to live at your place?”

“Y/N,” he started, “Let’s just start with tonight, okay? Let’s go back to my house, call Bri and Mama. Tell them what happened. Tomorrow we’ll go see Perkins and figure out things from there.”

“Okay,” she said, then looked out the window. The lights from the cop cars were still disturbing the otherwise peaceful neighborhood, and it brought on a different wave of sadness. She felt the sting of tears at her eyes again but didn’t bother wiping them away.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked softly as he started the ignition.

“I just hate that this is how I’ll remember this place now. I hate that my memories of it turned so ugly.”

“You really liked this place, huh?”

Y/N nodded. “It was home. I never expected it to really feel like mine, you know? It was just a place to live when I first came here. But, I don’t know… somewhere along the line, it became home.”

She looked away from the window and back at Jensen. Seeing him there made her feel a little better, but it wasn’t enough to shake the sense of being violated. Just like the morning, he took her to the airport, she slid across the seat and tucked herself into the crook of his arm. Y/N closed her eyes and from deep within his chest, she could hear Jensen’s heart beating, slow and rhythmic, helping her find some semblance of peace in an otherwise chaotic night. 

Y/N woke up and couldn’t remember where she was. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and felt like she was hungover, yet never had a drop of alcohol the night before. She slowly blinked and stretched her arms over her head and tried to remember where she was. The scent of Jensen was so strong around her, but when she sat up from the bed, he was nowhere to be seen, bringing on a bout of disappointment. Y/N looked around and tried to recall exactly how she got there, and when she saw her suitcase was there by the bathroom door, the rush of memories become clearer in her mind.

Jensen had brought her back to his house the night before, where they sat on his couch quietly for the longest time. She didn’t want to talk. He could sense that in her so he just let her rest against him, eventually turning on the television but not really watching anything. Y/N just stared blankly at the screen while he stroked her hair and made the occasional comment about what they were watching.

When she was finally tired enough to sleep, he insisted she take his bed. Y/N remembered crawling onto the King-sized mattress slowly, and letting herself sink into the pillows with heavy eyes. She felt Jensen lay beside her then drape his arm across her side, pulling her close, then holding her that way until she was asleep.

Y/N sat up all the way and enjoyed the quiet moment being in Jensen’s personal space. Even though he didn’t get to spend much time there, pieces of him were strewn about the room and for her, it was calming. She drew her legs up into her chest and wrapped her arms around them, then rested her chin on her knee. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly through puckered lips, while she kept telling herself, everything would be fine. She needed to be calm, she needed to feel in control, but most of all, she needed to shower. Though she doubted that would make her feel clean. This kind of grime couldn’t be washed away with soap and water.  

Eventually, she made herself get up, and open her suitcase to find something suitable to wear for the day. Y/N went into the bathroom that was right off the bedroom and saw the pile of fluffy towels he’d left for her.

Y/N shook her head and chuckled softly. “This guy. He’s too much.”

As she stood under the nearly scalding hot water, her mind drifted to the scene at her house. It was just a mess. No one had been hurt, and anything that had been broken was easily replaceable. Well, almost. She felt the sting of tears again and fought them back. Instead, she tried to focus on Jensen.

He wasn’t even supposed to be in town yesterday, she thought as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair and let the water cascade down her back. She felt lucky to have him, though there were still plenty of moments in any given day where she was still baffled about how she did have him in the first place.

Out of the shower, and dressed for the day, Y/N just finished running the brush through her hair when there was a soft knock at the door.

“Come in,” she called and waited for the door to open.

“Mornin’ Trix,” Jensen smiled softly, the crinkles deepening around his eyes. “Sleep alright?”

“Morning,” she said and placed the brush back in her suitcase. “Not bad I guess. Where did you sleep? You weren’t here when I woke up.”

“I, uh… I went downstairs and slept on the couch for a little while.”

“Why? You could have stayed, it’s your bed after all.”

“It’s fine,” he said, waving her off. “You hungry? I could make you some breakfast.”  

Y/N shook her head, and moved towards him, closing the gap between them. “I’m good for now. Maybe after the police station. I need to be there soon, right?”

“Yeah.” Jensen seemed nervous. His muscles were noticeably tense and it wasn’t like him to be in the room with her for more than a minute without reaching out for her, or touching her in some kind of way. She knew his signs and could see he wanted to say something, but either didn’t have the nerve, or was being cautious in starting the conversation.

“Something on your mind?” she asked and grabbed his crossed arms to pull him closer. He unfurled them and embraced her, as hers went and around his waist.

“There is, but it can wait until after. I wanted to make sure you were alright after everything last night.”

“I’m as good as I’m going to be for the moment. So, talk to me, what’s up?”

Jensen kissed her forehead and broke apart from her embrace. “I have to go back to Vancouver tonight. I’m sorry that I can’t stay--”

“It’s fine, Jay. Mama is in town for a couple more days. I can stay with her at the Marriott--”

“No. Hell no. You stay here,” he said pointedly. “You can stay here for as long as you want to.”

“I can’t do that,” she said and ran her fingers through her hair. “I can’t live with you, Jensen.”

“No, I mean, I’m barely here. When I go back tonight, I won’t be back until the morning of Jared’s party and that’s next week. Bri offered to come stay here with you, too.”

“You talked to Briana about it before me?”

“She called this morning while you were still sleeping. She asked where you were going to go.”

Y/N’s head was spinning and she didn’t want to talk about this at the moment. “I don’t know, okay? Can I just go to the police station and see what they say?”

“Yeah, but, I want you to know you can stay here. It would make me feel a hell of a lot better knowing you were here and safe than in a hotel somewhere.”

Y/N sighed and when she saw how deep the concern ran on his face, she felt this was a battle that just wasn’t worth fighting. “Just till Jared’s party. Then I will figure something else out.”

“WE will figure it out,” Jensen smiled.

“No… I will. I need to handle this on my own. Find a new place of my own. I can’t have you swoop in and fix it.”

“I just want to help you. You realize you don’t have to do it alone, right? I’m here, Y/N. For you… for whatever you need.”

“And I appreciate that,” she said. “But I need to be independent, I won’t ever put myself in a position where I am reliant on another person, again. Not when it comes to something this big.”

Jensen just stared at her, fighting the urge to turn the conversation a way it didn’t need to go. He could understand where she was coming from and didn’t want to belittle her need for self-reliance.

“Ok,” he agreed and decided he wouldn’t press the issue. “Whatever you wanna do. But, you’ll stay through the week, at least?”

“Yes, ‘til then. At least.”

“Ok good. Thank you. Oh, you know… after the weekend of Jare’s party, we leave for comic con. You should come.”

Y/N was in the middle of adjusting her layers of clothes and stopped mid-motion. “To San Diego?”

“Yeah, why not?”

She snorted a laugh and shook her head. “No thanks, I’m good.”

Jensen scrunched his face, slightly offended by her response. “No thanks? Why not?”

“There is so much to do, Jay. I can’t just up and go to San Diego. There are at least three separate meetings planned with the high school kids to work on the sets for the theater. Not to mention dealing with the carnage of the office.” She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes at the notion of the paperwork catch up she would have to do now. Everything had been organized in the office, and while it was backed up digitally, she needed to scour through everything with a fine-toothed comb.

“You can work from there. It will be fun! Come on, I promise--”

“No!” she snapped. “I… I don’t--I can’t go to San Diego, Jensen. Why are you pushing this so much?”

Jensen’s mouth pulled taught and he folded his arms again, while his tongue ran nervously across his bottom lip. “Because I don’t like the idea of you being here alone.”

“But, you literally just said--”

“Yeah, and Briana will be here, so you won’t be alone.”

Y/N sighed and rolled her eyes. “So now I can’t be alone? What the hell? Jay, this is crazy... why are you being pushy?”

“Crazy? You wanna talk crazy? Last night some lunatic threw a brick through your back door then proceeded to SLASH things all over the place. Slash! Y/N, with a fucking knife! What the hell would have happened if you were home? Hm? What the HELL would they have done to you?”

“The thought crossed my mind and its scary as hell to think about. But I wasn’t there, and I’m fine. I can’t live my life scared… not again,” she said as calmly as she could, but inside she felt anything but calm. Her mind flashed to how she lived after getting out of the hospital from when Nathan hit her. Y/N promised herself she would never live that way again.

“They could have hurt you... Raped you! Killed you! I don’t know! Then what would I have done?!” He had never raised his voice with her before and only did so now because he was scared. It was written through every line on his face, in every vein that pulsated with his blood. His jaw was clenched and his fists were methodically opening and closing as he tried to release some of the tension he felt.

Y/N was speechless. The fire in Jensen’s expression was new to her, and it caused her breath to catch in her chest.

“If you think for one damn second, that I’m going to risk the life of the woman I love just because you need to prove how independent you are--”

Y/N’s stomach dropped. “What the fuck did you just say?” she asked cautiously, the words nearly sticking in her throat.

Jensen was confused at first, unsure of what part she was referring too. But then his shoulders fell at the realization of what he said. He didn’t regret it, because it was true; he was in love with her. But this wasn’t how he wanted to say it, and by the expression she wore, he could see it wasn’t what she was hoping for, either. There was no going back now though, regardless of whether she wanted to hear it, or not.

“I said,” he took a couple steps closer to her. “I won’t risk your life, the woman I am in love with just so you can be stubborn and independent.”

Y/N took a step back from him, dazed by his admission. Suddenly she couldn’t look at him. A burning bout of rage erupted from her gut.

“Why would you say that, now? So, I would fall into your arms and do what you wanted?”

“What? No! I meant what I said, Y/N. I do, I love you! I certainly didn’t mean to just blurt it out, but I would never use it to manipulate you! You should know me better than that.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I am thinking. My head is so turned around with everything that’s happened, Jensen. From meeting you to crisscrossing the country, to Nathan, to the break in, to… fucking… Dee and her God damned phone calls. I am exhausted! Mentally, physically, just exhausted! So, I’m sorry, if I misinterpreted your grand declaration, but fuck you very much for doing that right now!”

Y/N immediately regretted the harshness of her reaction. But it wasn’t something someone could take back so easily. The way Jensen’s expression fell broke her heart because the last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt him. She just wanted room to breathe, clear her head and try to comprehend the events of the last twenty-four hours.

The room grew completely silent as they stood there staring at each other. It was less than a minute, but that minute felt like forty years. Y/N closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, knowing this needed to be addressed, but she just couldn’t right then.

“Look, I need to clear my head and get some air. I’m going to head to the police station and get that over with. Can we talk when I get back?”

“Yeah, sure. Take the truck. Keys are on the kitchen counter,” he said quietly, his eyes staring straight ahead, unable to look at her as she walked past him.

“Thanks,” she rasped and headed towards the door to the room. She hesitated before walking through, wondering if she should stay and try to fix things. But with the way her head was buzzing and the anxiety churning in her gut, she thought it better to follow her instincts and just give them a bit of space. She wasn’t running away, just calling a timeout.

“I’ll call you and let you know what they say,” she said with a small sigh, hoping it would ease some of the tension she’d just caused.

“Good, thanks.” Jensen still didn’t turn around. He stood in the middle of the quiet room trying to wrap his head around what just happened. When he heard the front door close from below, and the familiar sound of his truck’s engine in the driveway, he finally turned and headed downstairs.

 Twenty minutes after Y/N left, Jensen was half lounging on his couch, one leg stretched out across the cushions, one hanging over the edge. His arm was covering his face with his eyes closed. He wasn’t sleeping but trying to rest his mind and hush the self-destructive line of thought that was giving him a headache. The soft knock at the door made him slowly stir from the couch. It stopped and started more than once by the time he got there to open.

“Alright, Jesus…” he grumbled and pulled the door open.

Briana’s smiling face greeted him along with a very bright sun. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” she sang and pushed her way in while holding a tray of disposable coffee cups, and a bag full of donuts. “I come bearing gifts. Where’s Y/N?”

Jensen closed the door behind her and helped to relieve her of the tray of coffee. He carried them into the kitchen with Briana following close behind.

“Uh, she left for the police station about a half hour ago,” he said, pulling a cup with his name on the side out and drinking it greedily. He sighed with relief as the heat of the coffee warmed his throat. “Thanks for the caffeine.”

“My pleasure,” Bri smiled, then immediately furrowed her brow. “Why are you here and not with her at the police station?”

Jensen snorted a laugh and tilted his head to the side slightly. “Long story.”

“I got time, coffee and donuts, Ackles. Spill it.”

Trying to ignore her, Jensen picked up the bag of donuts and peered inside. He could feel Briana’s eyes on him and realized there was no way she was going to stop asking. He rolled the bag back up and tossed it back to the counter.

“I had planned to go with her, but she wanted to go alone,” he sighed. It was the truth, sort of.

“Mhm, and?”

“And… what?”

“You could have insisted you go. This can’t be easy for her.”

“I pushed her enough this morning. I wasn’t going to do it again.”

“Pushed her how? What the hell happened?”

Jensen leaned back against the counter and took a drink from his cup. “We were talking about where she could go now. She doesn’t want to go back to the townhouse, and I don’t blame her. So I told her to stay here, what we talked about.”

“Right, makes sense. She didn’t go for it?”

“Not at first, but eventually she agreed to at least stay for the week, til I’m back again.”

“Alright, so what’s the problem then?”

“I tried to get her to go to San Diego. She doesn’t want to--”

“And you tried to push her to go?”

“Yeah. But… I got pissed, scared, is more like it. I can’t help but think about what could have happened to her, Bri. What if she had been home when that happened? I cannot get that out of my head. I could have lost her.”

“Did you tell her that?” Bri asked quietly.

Jensen nodded. “That and then some.”

“Explain, please.”

“In the midst of trying to make a point I blurted out that I was in love with her,” he said with a wince and watched Briana’s expression transform into a mix of surprise, excitement, and panic.

“Oh… Jensen… how--how did that go over? I thought you weren’t going to tell her yet!”

“Wasn’t on purpose, Bri. Trust me. And it did NOT go over well.”

“That’s why she went alone,” Bri mumbled in understanding. “That makes more sense now. What did she say?”

Jensen gave her a look that said, ‘please don’t make me answer that’, to which Bri understood perfectly and relented.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” she said and walked around the kitchen to give him a hug.

Jensen didn’t realize how much he needed one. He returned his friend’s hug, suddenly very glad she was there and forcing him to talk about it. When they pulled back from the embrace, Bri immediately balled up her fist and punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What the fuck, Bri!? What was that for?”

“For telling her you loved her in an argument, ya dumbass,” she snorted and shook her head. “You don’t do that! Especially not the first time you’re gonna tell a girl you love her!”

“I told you it wasn’t on purpose! You didn’t have to hit me, damn.”

“Well next time you need to stop and think before you speak. That girl has gotta be spiraling right now. She was already overwhelmed with work, it’s why me and Mama are even here. She needed help. Then, the break-in and now this. She’s on overload, Jensen.”

“Why didn’t she tell me she was that overwhelmed? I’ve told her--”

“Right, and she’s just as stubborn as you are! You were in Vancouver. She wasn’t going to interrupt your schedule there for help with traveling, paperwork, and setlists... backdrops, social media… you name it, she’s doing it. My point is, she was already on the edge of having a little breakdown, and maybe what you said just pushed her over.”

“That’s the last thing I wanted,” he said. “Why is it whenever you feel like things are good, something comes along and just kicks you right in the balls?”

“That’s life, my friend,” Bri mused. “I guess you can only thing you can really control is how you respond.” She shrugged and looked at him with a tilt of her head. “So, how you gonna respond to this one?”

Jensen gave her a deadpan stare and shook his head. “Do I look like I know what the hell I’m doing?”

Bri laughed. “Do any of us?” She pushed off the counter and stood directly in front of him, taking him by the upper parts of his arms, and forcing him to look into her eyes. “Please, do not let whatever she said to you this morning, derail the amazing potential you two have. You, my friend, have a girl that is head over heels crazy for you. She’s scared as hell that she’s going to lose herself in loving you.”

Bri let his arms go and gave him a warning look. “Now, I just violated best friend code to tell you that, as it came from a confidential conversation during a night of girl talk.” She wagged her finger in his face. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Jensen laughed and held up his pinky. “Pinky promise.”

“Atta boy,” Bri giggled and winked at him then hooked her pinky with his. “Look, I need to run, I promised Y/N I would take this morning’s appointment over at the community college with the theater director. But, you call me or have her call me, okay? I want to know what happened at the station and with this...” she made a swirling motion with her finger in his general direction.

Jensen chuckled. “I will. Thanks, Bri,” he said and hugged her again.

She left a quick peck on his cheek. “Love ya, buddy. Hang in there, okay? Things will be fine. I know it.” Bri grabbed her coffee from the counter and headed towards the front door. With one last wave, she was out the door and off to her appointment.

It was late afternoon by the time Y/N got back to Jensen’s. She found him in the bedroom, re-packing his suitcase for the trip back to Vancouver. He didn’t sense her at first, so she watched him neatly roll up his clothes and place them into the open luggage. By the look of his slumped shoulders and slow, methodical movements of folding and packing, it looked like he was going through the motions, but she could tell that he was doing so reluctantly.

She felt terrible about how they had left things that morning and thought about nothing else, aside from the break-in; and that had only been when she was sitting and discussing it with Detective Perkins earlier. Jensen had been nothing but good in her life, but his timing of feelings was just something she wasn’t ready for right then. Somehow she needed to tell him that she just wanted to, for now, pretend it didn’t happen and keep going on the path they had previously chosen.

“Hey,” she said and took a tentative step into the room. “Need some help?”

Jensen turned around, slightly startled by her entrance, but she felt a little relieved when he smiled upon he saw her.

“I’m just about done, but thanks,” he said and placed the last item in before flipping the lid closed, but not zipping it. “How’d it go?”

“Alright, I guess. They don’t know anything yet. Perkins mostly asked about Nathan. I imagine you’ll be getting a call soon. He mentioned wanting to talk to you, too.”

“Because I brought up Dee?”

Y/N nodded and took a few steps closer to him. “I told him you were leaving for work later tonight, but he said he would call soon.”

It was Jensen’s turn to nod. He drew a deep breath, ready to try and clear the air of awkwardness between them. But Y/N beat him to it.

“Jay, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I know you wouldn’t actually say--you know--to purposely manipulate me. I’m sorry I even thought about it for a second.”

“It’s okay. And, I’m sorry for pushing you. I don’t have the right to tell you what to do.” He wanted to say more, but he could sense she just wanted to let it go for now. After what happened that morning, he was learning more about her boundaries and wouldn’t continue to test them.

“Can we just, rewind, start over for today? I know you have to leave tonight and I don’t want you to go with things weird between us.”

“Me either,” he said and reached out to take her hand. “Are you hungry? Did you eat?”

Y/N shook her head. “Haven’t had much of an appetite today. Did you?”

“Not yet. But, I did order a pizza earlier. Figured you’d be hungry when you got back.”

“And you got me a pizza?” she asked wistfully, looking up at him with wide, dreamy eyes. “You get me. You really get me.”

Jensen chuckled softly and pulled her in with ease. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, as she rested her head against his chest and hugged him around the waist.

“We ok?” he whispered into her hair.

“Yeah, Jay. We’re good.” Y/N felt his body sigh with relief, as she looked up at him. She stood up a little straighter and kissed his lips gently.

 The rest of the evening had been quiet. Y/N recanted her conversation with Detective Perkins, they discussed some festival business and just kept the conversation light and kept clear of anything regarding that morning. Hours later, after consuming the pizza and a half of a Netflix movie, Y/N had fallen asleep, with her head on his shoulder. Jensen dozed off a few times himself until around midnight when his phone vibrated alerting him that it was time to leave. Outside there would be a car waiting to bring him to the airport, and now, more than ever, he wished he didn’t have to go.

Jensen watched her sleeping for a moment and decided not to wake her. He got up cautiously, doing his best not to disturb her. When he was standing, he gently guided her to a more comfortable position on the couch and covered her with the blanket that rested along the back. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and scribbled a note for her. He folded it in half and left it on the coffee table where she could easily see it before he left.

Once he was sure she was still in a deep sleep, he knelt beside the couch and lightly brushed her hair from her face.

Jensen leaned forward and left a soft kiss on her temple. “I know you don’t wanna hear it right now Trix, but I do love you,” he whispered.

She didn’t stir. Jensen took one more long look at her, and tried to remember every little detail; the soft sound of her snoring, the way her hair spilled across the throw pillow, how the soft glow from the TV highlighted the contours of her face and neck. The corner of his mouth lifted into a small smile, and even though things weren’t perfect he knew that it didn’t matter because he loved her. For now, that was enough for him. His phone vibrated again, this time a text from the car service letting him now they were waiting out front. He glanced her way one last time and left the house quietly for the airport.

   A week later, and Y/N was already tired of Austin’s summer. The temperatures were reaching triple digits and the humidity could give Jersey’s mid-year season a run for its money. Bri had come to stay with her at Jensen’s house for a few days after he left, which was blessedly cool and equipped with a small swimming pool out back. Unfortunately, they spent most of the time running around Austin, going from one location to the next and dealing with coming and going in and out of the heat. The only thing that kept them going was knowing how much of an impact that what they were doing was going to make on the festival, and by extension, for the city itself.  It was exhausting, but between that and spending time with Mama while she was there, it was helping to keep her brain occupied and not think about the break-in.

The day before Jared’s party, Briana left to go meet some family who was visiting in Dallas. Promising she would be back in time for Jared’s party, Y/N said goodbye from the porch of Jensen’s house and watched her go. It wasn’t until she went back inside, closed and locked the door did she realize that she was alone again. At first, she tried to ignore the feeling that was tingling beneath her outward exterior. It was a barely there sensation, but enough to make her take notice.

She picked up the phone to call Jensen more than a few times, but after their argument about her being alone, the last thing she wanted to do was admit he was right.

Maybe going to San Diego isn’t the worst idea in the world… she thought as she mulled around the kitchen, trying to decide what she wanted to do. She didn’t want to eat, or watch TV; for the first time that week, she had no desire to go for a swim. If she was being honest with herself, she just wanted to be where Jensen was.

They hadn’t talked much that week. A call or text a day was all there had been time for. She tried not to think it was due to the way things had been their last day together. Jensen had left her a sweet note, and though she was sad he didn’t wake her, she understood why he didn’t. Now, he was due home by the next day for the party, and Y/N found herself just counting the hours.

Sleep found her eventually when she retreated to the guest room she’d been staying in and laid down with one of the books she found in the living room. Her slumber was broken and filled with dreams, but it helped the time pass as the moon set and sun rose on another bright, humid day. She had woken later than she wanted but took the time to throw on her slippers and go down to the kitchen to make coffee. Once it was done, she took it back upstairs with her, sipping it slowly as she went about getting her clothes ready for the day and preparing to take a quick shower.

Y/N had just stepped out of the shower and went back into the guest room to dress when she heard a soft knock at the door. It started to open as she spun around in surprise, and pulled her towel close against her.

“Hey, Y/N are you--” Jensen’s face came through the door. The instant he saw her in just a towel he froze.

The air in the room suddenly felt thick, making it hard to breathe. Jensen and Y/N locked eyes every so briefly before his gaze continued down the length of her body. Seeing her like that--skin still wet and glistening, and MORE of her than he’d seen before--especially after not seeing her for a week--left him reeling. Jensen felt more than just a twitch of arousal beneath his shorts, then quickly looked away, and apologized profusely.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize… I’ll go--let you change…” he stuttered and moved nervously out of the room, leaving Y/N to laugh.

“Just give me a minute,” she called out and tried to calm the rush of heat that flourished in her cheeks. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her heart racing from the momentary encounter. She figured it was just because he took her by surprise, but deep down she knew it was all because of how he looked at her. Somehow, she got herself together, got dressed and met him downstairs a few minutes later.

Y/N found Jensen in the kitchen, leaning on the island counter with his elbows, scrolling through his phone. When he saw her, he stood up straighter, a dream-like expression on his face, and a smile that brought out the crinkles around his eyes.

“I, uh, I’m sorry about that… I just… I figured you’d heard me come in, and…”

“It’s fine. No big deal,” she said, her heart still beating faster than normal. “What time do we have to leave?”

“Uh, now, actually. Just got a text from Bri, she’s running late and will meet everyone at the dock.”

“Dock?”

“Yeah, apparently Gen is having this luau in a private cove. She thought it would be fun to rent a big ole boat for everyone to get there.”

“Oh… and how are we getting back? Also boat?”

“No,” he chuckled, “she hired a car service or rentals, I don’t know… either way, there are cars there to take people from the cove to wherever they wanted to go. This way they can leave whenever they want.”

“Seems like she thought of everything,” Y/N said and moved further into the kitchen before leaving a canvas tote bag on the stool. “I grabbed a change of clothes, just in case.”

“Good thinking. I should too. Let me do that and we’ll go.”

She watched him run upstairs, taking them two by two and expelled a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Things had been fine between them, and even after the unexpected encounter upstairs, something still felt off. Not terribly… but for the first time since, forever, he didn’t try to touch her in any way. She tried not to worry about it, but not all of her old self-destructive habits were gone. In the time between him going up and then coming back downstairs, she had herself convinced that he had finally lost interest.

“Ready?” he asked, slinging a Jansport over his shoulder.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, then grabbed her bag, forcing a smile and praying he didn’t see the fear on her face.

 As they pulled up to the dock, Y/N could immediately pick out their group ready to board when she spotted Jared towering over the lot of them. Jensen grabbed their bags from the bed of the truck and handed Y/N hers as they walked down the sidewalk towards the group. Once all the hugs and greetings were dispensed, everyone boarded and found a place to settle in for the two-hour ride to the cove.

The moment Robbie saw Y/N, he pounced on her. “My girl! You’re here and that makes me very happy. Missed you! Also, we really, really need to chat. Today might not be good, but what are your plans tomorrow?”

“If today goes as I imagine it will, my plans will be to nurse the hangover I assume I’ll have. Why? What’s up?”

Robbie pulled her down into the galley and away from the crowd. “What do you mean, what’s up? Um, you got your house broken into and the loft was destroyed. WE have too--”

“It's done, Robbie. I recovered everything from the cloud, got it reprinted, refiled and safely stored in Jensen’s office. Crisis averted.”

Rob’s face went from panic to pleasantly surprised in a matter of a second. “Well damn, girl. I guess, then, the only other thing we need to talk about is your music and which of it you want to sing on stage with us. I wrap in Vancouver soon, and I want to get the guys back down here so we can start working on a couple of those songs you got.”

Y/N’s heart sank; not because of what Rob said, but because it just reminded her, again, that she no longer had her guitar.

“Yeah, we’ll talk soon, Rob. Let’s get through today and we’ll chat. Cool?”

“Perfect,” he replied with an affirmative nod. He paused and took a closer look at her expression and could see the heavy emotion behind her faux smile. He sighed, and put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a friendly squeeze. “I’m so sorry about what happened to the townhouse. When Jensen told me, I--I just couldn’t--I mean, who…” he trailed off in a huff. “I just don’t get it.”

“Me either. But, cops are working on it,” she shrugged and then cleared her throat. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not think about it tonight.”

“Of course, I’m sorry, I should’ve--”

“Robert,” she snorted a laugh and shook her head, “it’s fine. Let’s go join the others, okay? I need to find Bri.”

Rob escorted Y/N back out onto the deck where the others were sitting around on the cushioned seats that lined the perimeter of the yacht. Gen and Jared were sitting with Jason and one of Gen’s friends, a few others were scattered around as well, while Jensen and Bri were sitting close to each other near the stern. They looked as if they were having an intense conversation, and Y/N felt unsure about approaching them. She didn’t want to intrude on whatever they were talking about, so once Robbie took his leave and went to join Gen and Jared, Y/N quietly slipped back down into the galley.

A burst of laughter came from the deck, drawing her attention towards the small steps that lead out. Bri was approaching her, a large, giddy grin drawing her full lips to stretch from ear to ear.

“Whatcha doin’ hiding in here, honey? Thought I saw you were heading over to join us.”

“Yeah, I was,” she started, then suddenly felt stupid for turning away from them. “I just figured I would use the bathroom real quick, then come out.”

Bri called her out on her blatant lie with one stern raise of her brow. “Really?” she asked, flatly.

From out on the deck, the sounds of a guitar could be heard playing, no doubt it was Robbie and Jensen messing around.

“I don’t know exactly what’s up with you, I mean, besides being freaked about the break-in and overloaded with work. But, if it’s what I think it is--”

“What do you think it is?” Y/N asked, cutting off her thought.

“I know what he said to you, Y/N. I came by that day after you left and we talked.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We just spent the week together!” Y/N huffed, mildly embarrassed that Briana knew and also a little annoyed that she wasn’t the one to tell her.

“Because you weren’t ready to talk about it or you would have brought it up. But as this little excursion goes on, I can see that you around him now, is weird. Look,” Bri took her arm and pulled her further into the room and away from the music. “He loves you. You need to tell him how you feel, or…”

“Or, what? He said he was okay with slow, he said--”

“Stop. Y/N, listen to me. Jensen would wait a million years for you to be ready. I’m sayin’ for YOUR sake… just tell the boy you love him already or you’re gonna drive yourself insane.”

Y/N swallowed Bri’s words down, right along with the lump in her throat. Once again, her friend hit the nail on the head. She needed to just shed the last of that force field that she was holding onto, and tell Jensen how she felt.

 Nearly two hours later, the yacht was positioning itself to dock at the cove. Waiting on the long wooden pier that jettisoned out from the sandy beach were four people, all decked out in leis, grass skirts, and Hawaiian shirts. Jared threw the lines for the boat as the captain parked her perfectly flush with the dock.

Y/N stayed seated as the others started to disembark. Robbie’s guitar was laying next to her, and knowing he wouldn’t mind, she picked it up and started to pick at the string. Without thinking about it, she was struck by that same tune she had been over the winter.

‘You’re the one that I want… oo oo oo, honey…’

The reverb from the guitar faded as she let her fingers fall from the strings and let her mind take her back to that morning on the beach. She had just met him, and even though he was still a stranger, sort of mysterious, he was still somehow, familiar. That song intruded on her thoughts then, too. He was, after all, the one that she wanted; deep down she knew that after he jumped into a cold ocean just to get her to say yes. She just needed to figure out a way to tell him so he knew that she really meant it. Y/N felt like she owed him that considering how his admission caused her to react.

“Y/N… hey!” Jensen called out. “You with us?”

She snapped back to reality and saw him standing in front of her; his hand outstretched to help her up.

“Yeah, sorry, got lost for a minute,” she took his hand and rose from the seat, still holding Robbie’s guitar.

“You can leave your bag on the boat, it will be here all night,” he said and then he looked at her curiously. She realized he saw that she wasn’t completely herself, but didn’t ask her about it. He didn’t have too, because he felt it too. Though they had been okay, that thing still hung over them, and both of them desperately wanted it to rectify it.

But how?

“Oh, great. Okay,” she smiled and with her hand still in his, followed him to disembark.

Genevieve Padalecki went all out for her husband’s birthday. Y/N wandered around in awe of everything she had arranged. The entire party was set up on a small, private cove about the size of a football field. There were several tiki bars across the area, a bonfire pit, volleyball net, a roped off swimming area, barrels scattered throughout the cove; some of which were filled with water guns, water balloons and some filled with ice and bottles of beer, water and soda.

“Nice, huh?” Jensen asked as he came up behind her. He placed his hand on the small of her back, and she jumped slightly at his touch. “Whoa! You alright? Did I scare you?”

“No,” she breathed and could feel her heart start pounding again. “Maybe. A little. It's fine, I was just distracted. And yeah, what Gen did here… holy shit.”

“You want a drink? Hungry?”

“No, I’m good. I think I might go swim. Wanna come?” she asked, hoping maybe that if they could go out in the water together, maybe she could say… something to make things more like they were before.”

Without warning, a splash of water hit Jensen’s back as Jared launched a water balloon at him. Y/N laughed as Jensen’s face went from shock, then fell into revenge mode as he slowly turned and glared his best friend with narrow, accusing eyes.

“Sorry, Trix. Gonna take a rain check. I got some business to attend to first,” he muttered before taking off through the sand after Jared.

She watched him chase Jared through the cove, as they threw water balloons at each other, and riled up half of the other partygoers to do the same. Realizing she was still carrying Robbie’s guitar, Y/N ventured over towards the area designated for the food and found a safe place for it.

“You gonna play something for us tonight?” Robbie asked and approaching her with a full plate of food, then motioning towards the guitar with his chin.

Y/N shook her head. “Nah, I don’t think so. I didn’t mean to bring it off the boat, it just sorta--”

“Followed you?”

“Yeah, kinda. Since I lost mine…”

“You feel lost. That I get.”

She nodded. “You should play something though, you know I get all tingly when you do,” she teased, trying to steer the conversation away from a place she didn’t want it to go.

“We’ll see.... maybe if you play, I’ll play.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Alright, Robbie. Maybe. Come find me after a swim and a few drinks. I may be more pliable then.” She patted him on the shoulder and made her way towards the water.

“Don’t think I won’t, Y/N! I’m not above that!” he called after her, before taking a bite of the food on his plate and walking towards one of the long tables.

 The view of the sunset from the cove was the best they could have hoped for. The colors were painted across the clouds in hues of pinks and purples, with a splash of orange for contrast. The moon, just about at full, already hung low in the east, waiting its turn to rise and join the celebration. After an afternoon of swimming, games, drinking, and laughs, Jared’s friends all migrated towards the newly lit bonfire while they waited for the unveiling of the pig from the pig roast.

The air was beginning to develop a chill, but Y/N just assumed it was because she was still in a wet bathing suit without her pull over or dry shorts. She snuck back to the boat and quickly changed into her extra clothes, and relished in how it instantly warmed her skin. In no time at all, she was back out on the beach of the cove and headed to rejoin everyone around the bonfire.

Everyone was already sat, forming a tight circle around the pit of flames. She looked for Jensen and saw him sitting snugly between Bri and Jared, talking and laughing. Directly across from him, she saw Robbie sitting there, with the last open space beside him. Somehow, she knew that was not by chance.

“This seat is taken?” she asked as she stepped over the makeshift log seat and then sat beside Robbie.

“Saved it just for you, buttercup,” he winked. “Have fun today?”

“I did,” she smiled, and then looked across the flames at Jensen.

He saw her, too. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk as gave her a little wave. She returned it in a similar fashion. She hadn’t seen much of him throughout the day, and knew it was only because he was enjoying the day off with his group of friends, and not because of any lingering awkwardness between them; she hoped.

“Did you have enough from the tiki bar that I could maybe convince you to sing something?” he wiggled his eyebrows excitedly, making her laugh.

“You first, Robert.”

“That wasn’t a no,” he chuckled, “so, I’m happy.”

The chatter around fire came to a lull as the sound of Robbie’s guitar replaced it. He was just strumming, but everyone knew that it wouldn’t just be that for long.

“Whatcha wanna hear?” he leaned over and asked Y/N while continuing to strum.

“Surprise me.”

Robbie found a rhythm he was happy with and slipped into the melody for The Rest. He played and sang, and encouraged some of the others to jump in on the song with him. Y/N was swaying along and enjoying the music, but every so often would look up and catch Jensen’s eye. She felt a million miles away from him, and as she watched him singing along with Robbie and the others, all she wanted to do was be near him.

Her mind began to drift as Robbie continued to play. Y/N thought about the night of their date, and how it was to be there with him, under the stars and sitting so close. She loved how delicately he kissed her, then showed up the next day just to take her to the airport.

‘You’re in love with him… just stop fighting it,’ she thought, chastising herself. ‘Sometimes you gotta just take the leap and--”

The claps and whistles of applause pulled her back and she followed suit. When she turned to look at Rob, he was watching her expectantly, holding out the guitar.

“Your turn,” he smiled impishly. “Deals a deal.”

“Yeesss! Y/N, it’s your turn!” Bri called out from over the flames. Following her, more encouragement from the party goers, including Jared and Gen, were egging her on. She gazed around the circle, suddenly nervous and unsure if she would be able to make her fingers work to do it.

When her gaze reached Jensen, she realized he was the only one not making any noise or gestures. He simply sat, leaning his forearms against his thighs, his hands clasped around a beer, hanging between his knees and his sights set firmly on Y/N. His mouth was relaxed and soft, his lips slightly parted as he watched her. His green eyes were narrowed intently on her as she cradled the guitar against her chest, before getting it in the proper position.

Y/N’s throat was suddenly very dry. Without asking, she reached down and pulled a swig from Robbie’s beer and apologized in a silent expression. He gave her a quick wink and nudged her with his elbow.

Now she leaned into him. “Whatcha wanna hear?” she asked.

“Sing something that means something to you,” he replied quietly, then casually let his line of sight linger towards Jensen before leaning back and settling in for her song.

Y/N’s fingers found the frets and pressed down on the strings. With her other hand, she began to strum and after a few chords, she cast her gaze down to the guitar and began singing softly, the rest of the group quieting down as the slower melody started to play. She thought about what the song meant to her, what it had been to her, and how she can use it now, to try and speak to Jensen.

“I got chills They’re multiplying And I’m losing control ‘Cause the power you’re supplying...”

‘It’s electrifying...’ Jensen sang softly, almost in a whisper but loud enough for Y/N to hear him.

Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice, her gaze instantly finding, and holding his across the fire. She paused for a moment to take a breath, her hand hovering closely over the strings. A twitch of the corner of Jensen’s mouth was all she needed to keep playing after having missed the next few beats in the song.

The song continued, but more as a conversation between them than a tune being played for the entertainment of the crowd.

“You better shape up ‘Cause I need a man And my heart is set on you

You better shape up You better understand To my heart I must be true”

‘Nothing left for me to do…’ Jensen sang with her. She continued on, as if everything in the song was what she had been wanting to say. But much like her old man, Y/N wasn’t great with verbalizing what she wanted, or how she felt. So, once again, she turned to music to do it for her.

When Y/N got to the chorus, he sang with her, softly, matching the tone and cadence of the melody.

“I better shape up, ‘cause you need a man…” Jensen took over for her, singing louder than he had been up to this point, making the next couple of verses everything he needed to say, and what she needed to hear.

“Yes I’m sure down deep inside…”

The last line of the verse and both of them looked at each other. They had been watching one another throughout the entirety of the song, but with this one line, it was saying everything they were both feeling but too scared to admit. The feelings that those lyrics left her with wasn’t just the rush of love she had for him, but the certainty with which she felt them. Whatever fear had been holding her back was gone and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Jensen was the only one she would ever really want.

They went through the chorus two more times, the intensity and strength of her playing and their singing growing, before it faded out.

“Oh yes indeed,” Y/N sang the last line, knowing exactly where she stood now.

There was a beat where it got very quiet, but Bri and Robbie changed that quickly with their rousing applause and cat-call whistles. Y/N smiled humbly and nodded her head slightly before handing the guitar back to Rob. She gave Bri a rueful glance over the flames before letting her eyes drift back to Jensen, who was suddenly gone from the bonfire.

Jensen needed a minute to compose himself. From the moment he heard what song she was singing, he felt his chest tighten and his heart beat faster. That dream he had the night he met her felt prophetic now and it left him reeling. He didn’t plan on singing, but he couldn’t help it. He felt like she was speaking to him and then as it continued on, he couldn’t refrain from speaking back. When it ended, he felt so affected by the whole thing and had a build up of emotion that had been coming for a while despite his need to try and repress it.

He was on his way back to the bonfire now that he had calmed a bit when he found her off on her own. Y/N was standing near the edge of trees where the cove and the paths converged. Off in the distance, the party was in full swing; the music and noise of which faded a bit where he found her, and he was grateful for that. It was getting dark, and out here on the fringes of the party, the only light he could really see her by was that of the moon.

“Hey Trix, you alright?” he asked softly.

Y/N turned and saw him emerge from one of the wide paths. She looked up at him, and he could tell she was smiling; but it was that soft, thoughtful one she would get when she had been lost in something.

“Yeah,” she said and approached him. “I was just looking for you.”

“Here I am,” he smirked, but she didn’t smile in return. She looked slightly nervous as she fidgeted with her hands.

“Jensen… I…” she stuttered, and then stopped to draw in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, I have been the biggest idiot.”

“What are you talking about? You’re not--”

“I am. Now, hush and let me talk. You and I, I don’t know how or why it works, but it does. I’ve been so afraid to admit how well it works, and because of that, I’ve been… I don’t even know. Scared seems ridiculous, but I guess, scared.”

She was rambling now, and as Jensen watched her pace back and forth trying to find the words she desperately grasped for, he couldn’t help but be slightly amused. He crossed his arms over his chest and continued to fall more in love as she stumbled over her words.

“You have to understand that I, trusting you--I didn’t know if I could, I mean, not that you gave me a reason not to--and then with the break-in, and all the other stuff--”

“Y/N,” he said, trying to get her attention, but she either didn’t hear him or ignored him.

“Then, that just happened, and I look up, and you’re gone, I thought for sure--”

“Y/N!” Jensen laughed, finally taking her by the shoulders and standing her square in front of him. “Stand still. Take a breath. Just say what you want to say.”

She looked up at him, and drew in a calming breath, exhaling through pursed lips. Jensen’s heart began to beat faster when he saw how her eyes were locked onto his, wistful, and dreamy. Y/N took Jensen’s hands from her shoulders, then interlaced her fingers into his and held them in front of her. She was quiet, and her eyes were fixed on the tangled knot their hands had become. She brought it to her mouth and kissed the back of his hand softly. Jensen’s stomach fluttered when he felt her lips on his skin.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, through a dry rough voice.

She released his hands slowly, gingerly placed her palms on his cheeks and guided her mouth onto his. He inhaled sharply before he kissed her back, surprised that she took the initiative. It started slow, but not hesitant; they savored each other for a few minutes with the soft, wanting, open mouth type of kiss that only two people in love could really appreciate. Jensen wanted more, needed more of her, but before he could, she retracted but stayed close, ghosting her nose over his; the sensation of which stirred the same feeling as seeing her just out of the shower did.

“Take me home, Hollywood.”

Jensen’s head snapped up, and he saw the sincerity in her eyes, pleading with him to take her away.

“You sure?”

She nodded and took his hand again. Y/N didn’t need to say anything, Jensen understood completely; she had said everything she needed to while they sang to each other around the bonfire. No one would miss them, and as much as he loved Jared, he wanted and had waited for Y/N for a long time. Jared would understand why he left.

Jensen kissed her again, and when she returned it with fervor, he knew it was time to go. He took her hand and playfully pulled her down the path that led away from the party. When they emerged onto the parking lot, the valets were already in place ready to assist him.

“I need a car, please,” Jensen asked with a polite smile, then turned slightly looking back at Y/N who was nearly attached to his side. “And quickly… if you could.”

Within minutes, the attendant had one of the rentals ready to go and Jensen was opening the passenger door for Y/N. Jensen backed out of the lot and headed towards the exit. It wouldn’t take long to get back to his place, but part of him just wanted to find the nearest motel. Deciding home was better, Jensen pointed the car in that direction and cruised down the main drag. With very few cars out at that time of night, they had the road to themselves.

A string of traffic lights sat between them and the house. The atmosphere of the car was tense, both Jensen and Y/N could feel the growing impatience between them. When they hit the first red light, Jensen threw the car in park and leaned over to her. His hand quickly tangled up in the hair at the back of her neck and pulled her needily towards him.

His mouth greeted hers, open and hungry, and for sixty seconds the light sat red, he devoured as much of her as he could. When it turned green, they regretfully parted until the next red light. He couldn’t get enough, no matter how many times he stopped to kiss her on the ride home. By the time he was pulling into the driveway, her lips were red and swollen from his relentless assault, but she immediately moved over to kiss him again once he turned off the ignition.

They parted long enough to make it to the stoop. The front door fell open as Jensen and Y/N stumbled in, their mouths locked together the second the key turned the knob. Jensen made sure it was closed and reset the deadbolt. As he did, she stepped back from him, the moonlight coming through the skylights in the foyer highlighting her skin as she slowly pulled her shirt up and over her head and let it fall to the floor.

Jensen stood motionless, unable to move towards her. Her (y/c) eyes locked onto his, and he felt himself tremble as she took her time unbuttoning the jean shorts, allowing them to join her gray pull over on the rug. Left in only her lacy bra and underwear, she moved towards him. He ran his fingers up the length of her arm, then raised both his arms in the air, as she pulled his thin cotton thermal top off over his head.

“Whoa, wait,” he gasped, pulling away from her and leaving a breath of space. “Are you sure? I mean, really sure?”

“Yes…. I am more than sure,” she purred and bit her lower lip as she ran a finger at the waist of his shorts.

She kissed him again, both of their breathing short and labored huffs through noses as their mouths occupied the other. He stopped it again before she could free him of more of his clothes, pressing his forehead against hers trying to catch his breath.

“Last time…”

“That was a long time ago, Jay,” she pleaded and went in to kiss him again.

“I don’t want to lose you. It's okay if you wanna stop and wait—”

“You won’t. I’m not going anywhere, except upstairs… with you. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Jensen bit his lower lip, using every ounce of his will power to not tear her bra off there in the foyer. “We can stop, Y/N. I don’t wanna push you.”

“No, you’re not. I told you to take me home. I want you, Jay. I want you to take me upstairs and do unspeakable things to me. I’m so fucking tired of being cautious with you. It's just… I was so damn reckless for so long, that when you came along…” she hesitated to continue, afraid to derail what was happening.

“Say it… when I came along, what?” he rasped, and nipped at her lips, which she kissed back immediately before he pulled back again. “Tell me.”

“I needed to be cautious with you because the stakes were so high. I knew from that first night on the beach that if I wasn’t careful, I would fall right into you. Hopelessly so. So I played it safe until I knew for sure that I wouldn’t lose. I’m sure now. I put everything on snake eyes, baby,” she chuckled and pressed her nails into the nape of his neck, drawing his body as physically close to her as she possibly could.

Jensen let her. They were nearly fused together now, her lips trailing soft, wanting kisses across his neck up to his ear. He shuddered when she kissed him there and felt his legs go weaker when her delicate breath fell against his ear.

“What’s the payout?” he whispered, unable to get his voice louder than that while under the spell of her touch.

Y/N pressed her lips to his earlobe and took it in her mouth, grazing her teeth along it as she whispered, “Everything.”

Jensen exhaled heavily, he knew that her phrasing was in good fun, but he also knew how vast the weight of her words were. Trusting wasn’t easy for her, and falling in love, after what she had been through, near impossible. Yet, here they were, together with nothing standing between them but their own insecurities. Pushing all of those aside, Jensen took her hand tightly into his, and lead her towards the stairs.

 He pushed open the bedroom door and motioned for her to go first. She was barely a few steps in before she turned and found him in the barely illuminated room. He leaned over and turned on the bedside lamp.

“No, leave it off,” she breathed. He could hear the trembling in her voice, but slowly shook his head.

“No,” he rasped and took her chin between his fingers. “I want to see you.”

Jensen bent down and kissed her neck before reaching behind her and unclasping her bra, letting it slide from her body to the floor. A small whimper escaped her lips as his hands ran lightly over the swell of her breasts, then down her stomach, coming to land at the hem of her panties.

He swallowed thickly, his fingers trembling as he breached the edge of the lace. He looked back at her, and when he saw the want in her eyes, he knew it was really happening. Jensen’s tongue ran over his bottom lip before he bent down and kissed her again. She reached for his shorts, and this time made quick work of getting them off.

Jensen walked her back towards the bed, never breaking his gaze from hers. She collided with the mattress and fell onto it, causing her to giggle. Y/N climbed backward onto the bed, propping herself up on her elbows and watching him with a lustful need. Hovering over her, he kissed her breasts softly, then ran his tongue lightly over her nipples. The lightest graze of his teeth against the rigid nub caused an involuntary shiver to race down her flesh. She felt him grin against her, which only encouraged her to rake her fingers through his hair.  

His mouth continued to work her over, eventually trailing down to her underwear. This time when he toyed with the hem, it was to pull them down, slowly and holding her gaze as he did so. When they were tossed aside, he looked to her one last time to be certain she wanted this. As if reading his thoughts, she smiled and bit her lower lip seductively, nodding with the slightest motion, and watching him with eyes begging him to touch her.

Jensen kissed the inside of her thigh as he let his hand brush against the hood of her sex. Y/N gasped, sucking air through her teeth and exhaling heavily at the sensation. Leaving his hand there, he continued moving back up her body and as his fingers slipped into her folds, his mouth found her neck and left a trail of biting, needy kisses up towards her ear.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, then found her mouth and kissed her again. “I have wanted you from the minute I saw you.”

The way he rasped in her ear, and the more his fingers traced the lines and ridges of her sex, teasing her clit, caused her to writhe beneath him.

“Please,” she mewed, running her hands across his back trying to pull him closer to her.

“Please what?” he asked with a heavy breath before plunging back to her neck and pushing his fingers down towards her entrance, now taunting her there.

Her hands ran down to the edge of his boxers and desperately tried to push them down. The more he touched her, the more she needed to feel him inside her, and the months of waiting and making excuses to wait had grown old. She wanted him. Now.

Y/N opened her eyes and caught his gaze. Her eyes were narrowed and full of lust, her lips still swollen and quivering. “I need you, now…”

The way she spoke to, or rather commanded him, Jensen couldn’t wait either. What she said, the way she said it, it flipped a switch in him and he needed to end the teasing. He quickly stood from the bed and pushed the boxers off himself. Before climbing back beside her, he stopped and ran his tongue up through her slit, causing her to gasp and her hands to claw at the comforter. Her reaction made his cock twitch against her leg. She sat up on her elbows and took him in, finally seeing all of him for the first time.

Jensen climbed on top of her and positioned himself between her thighs. Y/N’s head was spinning and as Jensen’s lips fell to her again, she felt his dick slide between her legs as the tip brushed against her clit. Slowly, he slipped up inside her, just a little at first, but enough to raise a growl from the deepest parts of his chest.

“Jesus,” she whispered into his neck and began to feel drunk just on the sensation and scent of his skin. The further he moved up inside her, she arched her back into him, exposing more of her neck to his mouth. Jensen took full advantage and as he gave one last, slow push, filling her completely, he bit down on her neck as she breathed his name. “Fuuuuck.. Jay…”

His hips were swaying with a tempered, methodical movement, but with each pass, Y/N dug her nails in deeper to his back. The sensation of him inside her was euphoric, coupled with the way he was continuing to kiss her neck, and the feeling of his warm breath on her skin, she briefly wondered if it was possible to faint from really good sex; but this wasn’t just good sex, and she knew it. This was intimate and meaningful; that’s what made it feel so incredibly different.

Jensen lifted his head and kissed her jawline, finding her mouth again as his hips began to move faster. She drew her legs up and around his waist, giving him a better angle to slide into. His mouth fell slightly open, his eyes squeezing shut as he got lost in the moment. Jensen’s breaths became shorter, more labored, the faster he moved. The friction against Y/N’s clit and the speed at which he moved pushed her nearly to the edge. Her hands shot out to the comforter again, trying to hold on as he became nearly relentless.

He grabbed her wrists with his hands, moving them up and pinning them down above her head.

“Fuck… fu---” he couldn’t keep it together much longer.

“God, Jay… I’m…” Y/N whined sharply, and just as her climax hit, Jensen took her breast in his mouth and swirled his tongue around the nipple. He could feel her flutter around him as his cock swelled and neared his own orgasm.

He didn’t want it to end, so he slowed down just as her legs released from the grip they had on him and fell back to the bed in exhausted relief. Jensen chuckled softly, still swaying his hips into her, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold it off; the mere sight of her post-climax was enough to bring his on. He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her lips gently. They held each other’s gaze for a moment before she ran her fingernails up along the back of his neck, her nerve endings still on fire from the release she just experienced.

“I love you,” she whispered, then pressed her lips to the ridge of his collarbone.

That one, soft kiss was what finally pushed him over the edge. Jensen felt his climax come in a head rush like he’d never had before. He clung to her for dear life; his head buried in the crook of her neck, his body trembling with contentment as he spilled inside her, and lavished her neck and shoulders with longing, and loving kisses.

When he was spent, he went to roll off her, but she held him there.

“Don’t, I like how you feel against me,” she purred and continued running her fingertips up and down his arms lightly.

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now,” Jensen teased.

He did finally move off of her and stood from the bed. He reached a hand down, and helped her up, but didn’t let go of her once she was. Running his fingers through her hair, he studied her closely before kissing her once more. Releasing her just for a moment, Jensen pulled back the covers of the bed and motioned with his expression for her to get in.

She was bewitching in the way she smiled at him as she pulled him down on the bed. Jensen was on his back as Y/N hovered over him and he tucked the hair behind her ear.

“I love you, Trix,” he said in a broken whisper, so incredibly enamored with the woman who gazed down at him. Jensen thought his life couldn’t get much better than it was right then and there.

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[oh-meow-swirls]

things that make 3 the best game:

lots of cool features added. the crank-a-kai system in 3 is better than in 1 and 2 (though also the darts suck), the new yo-kai searching minigame thingie is neat, the yo-kai vacuum cleaner is nice and the yo-kai drill and yo-kai blaster add unique mechanics (the drill leads to neat secrets), i could probably go on.

all of the new characters are great. as is to be expected nate's bbq classmates/friends n hailey's classmates are pretty underdeveloped but they seem neat from what we see of them. and of course, hailey n buck are the stars of the show here. they're both great n make both stories equally fun. usapyon's also great, i KNOW he debuted in blasters but his personality is extremely different there- the weakest of the new characters are probably blunder n folly since they basically don't do anything for the whole game except inexplicably act like they're plot important when they're not but even they can be neat n there's funni comedy with them at least.

blasters t is fun. it's hell but it's fun.

the story's great too. there being two different stories for most of the game is a really interesting idea, though it can also be annoying if you want to progress one story but can't because you need some fancy that! issue you get in hailey's story as nate or something dumb like that. why's all the story linking hailey doing things n then getting stuff done as nate i only just realized that what the fuck. anyways.

there's soooooo much content. both in the main game and the post-game. the main game alone took me like, a week to complete, whereas my playthroughs of 1 and 2 take like, four days at most (2 has added time from grinding for dame dedtime so ignoring that). and i'm STILL going through the post-game. there's so many post-game quests and other fun things you can do, like going to bbq as hailey (which is useless. she can't go on the raft or do zombie night or anything. she's limited in things she can do in bbq but nate can do everything in springdale) n also just the stuff you'd expect from yo-kai watch's post-game.

did i mention that hailey n buck are amazing n that i love them. best yo-kai watch characters apart from jibanyan.

oh also nate, hailey n buck being besties is amazing. nate getting friends who can also see yo-kai n who aren't his dead grandpa is great good for him he deserves it.

i can't decide if the length is good or bad. i guess i already mentioned how long it is. i have like 100 hours of playtime and i've only finished two blasters t dungeons what will my playtime be like once i finish blasters t and the post-game and everything-

nate, hailey n buck being besties is so great that it gets to be a bullet point twice over. they're so fucking stupid together i love them. there is a single braincell n nate n buck share it n hailey never gets it.

oh also hailey high-key has adhd n autism i made a whole essay about that. the points were like. 1. her interests are v intense (like hyperfixations/special interests). 2. she's v hyper seemingly both physically n mentally (the h in adhd stands for hyperactivity so). n 3. she is seemingly not very great at socializing but also idk how much of that's actually canon n how much of it is me projecting sdklfjklfsdjfds-

i mean i feel like you could make some sort of argument for most yo-kai watch characters being neurodivergent in some shape, way or form. though i'm saying this as a neurodivergent person who ends up headcanoning like every character i like as neurodivergent n has no idea how neurotypicals work so- i high-key accidentally made katie neurodivergent in my rewrite ngl i've just accepted it at this point.

[master-sass-blast]

The Literal Crack Fic

Whoooo boy, this one’s a doozy.

Summary: You wind up overdosing after falling into a vat of cocaine and inadvertently inhaling too much of it.

The fic makes more sense than the summary, I promise.

Rating: M for accidental drug usage, seizures, drug-induced psychosis and hallucinations, drug overdose, drug withdrawal, cocaine, and hospitalization.

Like I said, this one’s a doozy.

Massive thank you to @leo-writer for proofing this fic for me and making sure my tired brain Englished properly! <3

Taglist: @chromecutie, @marvel-is-perfection, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @starman-thorsus-canos-jock

Also, to anyone who is struggling with drug addiction, who knows someone struggling with drug addiction, or has struggled with drug addiction: you are a beautiful human battling a dangerous and difficult beast. Your beauty and value are not and will never be diminished by the beast or the fight, I promise. <3

I thought it best to find a few resources to help those struggling with drug addiction. Obviously, I’m one person, so I can possibly cover every country. If someone knows the hotline for their country --or thinks of one I didn’t mention for a country I have listed--please include it in a reblog or a comment!

US:

-https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline

-http://drughelpline.org/cocaine-hotline/

UK:

-https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/healthy-body/cocaine-get-help/

Australia:

-https://au.reachout.com/articles/cocaine

-https://adf.org.au/help-support/

You watch, satisfied, as your fiancé hauls off a group of mutant drug runners towards the X-Jet.

Charles had gotten the call a couple weeks ago; a team of mutants was using their abilities to run drugs through New York, and had gotten too dangerous for the regular authorities to handle. The X-Men had been asked to take in the mutants, and Charles had handed off the task of tracking the group’s hideout down to Nate and Wade.

Earlier today, the two had called the other members of the X-Force with the news that they’d found the drug runners. Within fifteen minutes, the X-Jet had been in the air and on its way towards upstate New York.

And, well, everything had gone pretty smoothly from there.

Wade groans as he stretches. “Fuck, I should’ve stretched my hammies more. I’m gonna be sore for like… another two minutes.”

“You’ll forget how you hurt yourself before the two minutes are up,” Ellie snarks.

“Yes, but until they are, I’m gonna be in agony!” Wade gripes. “Dammit! Why do my hamstrings hurt so bad?”

“Ellie, why don’t you and Yukio go help out Piotr,” you say, nodding at the jet. “Wade, Nate, Neena, and I will try to track down the runners’ stash so we can hand it off to the proper authorities.”

“Minus a serious chunk!” Wade adds as he starts skipping towards the warehouse the runners had been holed up in. “Because daddy needs a restock!”

“Absolutely not,” you fire back as you trail after him.

“Since when did you start sounding like Colossus?”

“Since we can’t afford to look like we’re skimming drugs, dorkus. What were they running?”

“Cocaine,” Nathan answers as he stops Wade from fiddling with various lab equipment on set of tables stationed on the far wall of the warehouse. “Decent grade stuff, and a lot of it from the looks of our recon.”

“I’m guessing there isn’t going to be a big sign with flashing neon lights that says ‘we hid our drugs here?’” you quip as you scan the warehouse for any clues about the drug stash’s whereabouts.

Nathan smirks. “Probably not, no.”

“We’ll find it,” Neena says confidently as she pulls out her phone and taps at the screen. “I’m feeling… two minutes and fifty seconds.”

“Still lazy writing,” Wade says as he turns a Bunsen burner on and off until Nate slaps his hand away.

You chuckle, then start walking the perimeter of the warehouse. The flooring’s wooden and somewhat rotted, so you have to watch your step in a couple places.

“Look, I’m not saying I’m an expert!” Wade protests mid-argument with Nate. “I’m just saying I’ve hidden cocaine before, and we should absolutely be looking for a hollowed-out statue of Betty Boop firing a machine gun into Stalin!”

“You’re the only person on the face of the earth who even has that statue.”

“Not true! The artist on Etsy made three.”

You snort and continue walking the perimeter, scanning the floor for any sign of where the drugs might be hidden –hello.

In the far-right corner of the warehouse is an area where a square has been cut through the floor.

You pry it up and peer down in the cavity beneath it –and, sure enough, there’s several slabs of cocaine at the bottom.

You pop up just as Neena’s phone timer goes off. “Over here!”

Neena cheers. “How about that!”

You jump up and down as you cheer with her—

Then shriek as you land on the hidey-hole panel and plummet through the floor.

You land on the slabs of cocaine –which, admittedly, aren’t too shabby for breaking a fall—and send up a veritable mushroom cloud of the drug into the warehouse. You cough, wheeze, and sneeze as you try to fan the coke away from your face.

And then, from the floor above you, comes the most horrified, blood-curdling shriek you’ve heard in your life. There’s a rush of footsteps on the floor, then Wade practically dives in with you because he can’t stop in time. He manages to catch himself on the lip of the floor, repositions himself so he’s laying down on his stomach, partially hanging over the ledge, then hauls you out by your collar, all while screaming “Get out of there! Get out of there! Get out of there!”

You hack and swipe at your face as you plop onto the floor of the warehouse. “Oh, fuck. That’s worse than the time I dropped that ten-pound bag of powdered sugar.”

Wade seems to be too busy having a nervous breakdown to notice your quip, though. “Oh, fuck! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! Fucking monkeys on a stick! Oh, sweet balls have mercy, no!”

“Relax,” you say as you stand and brush yourself off. “I didn’t hit my head; I’m fine.”

“I will not fucking relax!” Wade snaps at you. “I think I fucking shit my pants when you fell down in there, so no! No relaxing! No relaxes ever again! This is the worst possible situation to have ever happened in the history of the universe, including the invention of polyester boxers! Holy shit, Colossus is gonna kill us! He’s gonna kill me!”

“Wade, take a breath,” Neena interjects firmly. “Colossus isn’t going to kill anyone. It was an accident. You didn’t even do anything.”

“He most certainly will if his precious fiancée dies, which is exactly what’s gonna happen to her!”

“Wade, calm down,” Nathan says. “Y/N’s not going to die.”

“Yes, she is, you fucking imbecile!” Wade snarls –and his tone, combined with the fact he’s snapping at Nathan, really settles that he’s being completely serious. “She’s on antidepressants! You can’t mix those with cocaine! Even I don’t mix those with cocaine! Fuck, we need to get her to a hospital. We needed to get her to a hospital five minutes ago! Fuck, why are we still standing here?”

“You’ve been monologuing,” Neena offers.

“Dammit! Not the time! Bad me!” He slaps himself. “Ow!”

“I can just fly myself there,” you say, voice thready with anxiety because you’re starting to get the picture of just how fucked you might be.

“No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Wade clasps your shoulders in a way that would’ve been gentle if he hadn’t been death-gripping them due to being so worked up. “No, nobody’s flying anywhere except in the jet. You need to keep your heart rate as slow as possible. Just stay calm. Everybody’s cool, everybody’s fine, this is totally chill, nobody’s shit their pants and nobody’s going to die, except for maybe you –fuck! Where is Piotr?”

“He’s handing off the criminals to the authorities,” Nate supplies, peering out the warehouse door. “They’ve got some kind of court case they need the guys for.”

“Dammit! This is no time for the boy scout act!”

“Come on.” Neena takes your arm and starts walking you towards the door. “We need to at least get her on the jet.”

 ***

 So, as it turns out, cocaine feels pretty fucking great.

You’re borderline vibrating when Piotr all but sprints onto the jet, followed closely by Wade. “Hi, babe!” you chirp, words coming out in rush. “How’re you? Are you good? I’m really good. I’m super buzzy. Are you super buzzy? Did you eat any bees?”

“How did this happen?” Piotr asks as he kneels in front of you, looking you over with a distraught expression.

“She fell through the floor, I swear to Cthulhu,” Wade says as he frantically strips you out of your jacket. “How’s she doing?”

“Temperature and heart rate are elevated, but other than that she’s been okay,” Neena says.

“We need to get her to a hospital,” Wade insists.

“Already called McCoy,” Nathan calls from the cockpit as he goes through the stages of lift off. “He called the hospital that works with the Institute; they’re already waiting for her.”

You press your sweaty forehead against Piotr’s shoulder, relishing in the cool temperature of his armor. “You feel good, baby. Just like your dick does when you fuck me.”

Piotr hugs you gently. “Just stay calm, dorogoy. Focus on breathing.”

“Oh, I can do that. I am so focused right now. I am the most focused I’ve ever been.”

“Very good. Try to stop talking and just focusing on breathing, pozhaluysta.”

“Okay, I’ll try not to talk, even though it’s really easy right now. It’s like I’ve got entire dictionaries in my head all at once, and they’re all pouring words into my brain, and I have to make sure I let the words out so my head doesn’t explode. Wait, am I still talking?”

“How much longer to hospital?” Piotr asks.

“Ten minutes,” Nathan replies from the cockpit.

Piotr shifts so he’s sitting in the seat and holding you in his lap. “Deep breaths, dorogaya moya. Focus on breathing.”

You’re too focused on tracing the ridges on his forearms with your fingers to really do that, but you are staying calm. Honestly, you feel really good. You’re alert, your brain feels like it’s going a billion miles an hour, and you feel really happy.

Granted, you could do without your chest feeling so tight, but you can’t have everything. You cough a little, then go back to tracing Piotr’s arm ridges with your fingers.

“Alright, Y/N.” Neena squats in front of you. “We have to do some tests to see where your cognitive function is at, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, drawing out the ‘a,’ while you continue to trace Piotr’s arm ridges. Wait, didn’t I just do his wrist?

“Good. Can you tell me your name?”

You let out another burst of coughing before answer. “Y/N M/N L/N.”

“Okay. What’s today’s date?”

“Uh…” You cough again, harder this time, then rattle off the date.

“Good. Can you tell me your date of birth?”

“Uh… uh… oh, it’s—” Before you can answer, you start coughing again, hard and long enough to make you start wheezing.

“Are you okay?” Neena asks as you double over. “Do you need some oxygen?”

You start crying, out of breath and more than a little disoriented. “I can’t breathe. My chest’s too tight, I can’t breathe.”

“Let’s get you some oxygen,” Neena decides, walking away to get a tank and mask.

Piotr rubs your back and helps you stay steady as you keep wheezing. “Try to stay calm. I know you are scared, but we are almost to hospital. Everything will be better soon.”

You weep against his shoulder—

Then suck in a harsh breath when you see your mother standing across the plane’s interior, glaring at you.

“What is it?” Piotr asks when you scream. “Moya lyubov’, what’s wrong?”

“My mom!” you hack out between bouts of coughing and wheezing. “Get her away from me!”

“Myshka… your mother is not here.”

Neena curses up a blue streak as she sets an oxygen canister next to your fiancé. “Wade! Get in here! She’s hallucinating!”

There’s the sounds of general panic and chaos from the cockpit, then Wade bursts into the main area of the jet. “Fuck—”

Everything goes black after that.

 ***

 Beep… beep… beep…

You wish someone would turn your alarm clock off. It’s hard enough to sleep with something stuck to your face, but the continuous beeping in your ear makes it borderline impossible.

Beep… beep… beep…

Maybe it’s one of those alarms that keeps going until you solve some sort of puzzle or something. You tried installing one of those on your phone at one point, but Piotr had to keep solving them to turn the alarm off because you’d sleep through the damn thing anyway, which kind of defeated the purpose of getting a special alarm to begin with.

Beep… beep… beep…

No…

Beep… beep… beep…

No, wait…

Beep… beep… beep…

That’s a pulse monitor.

Aw, shit.

You open your eyes with a slight snort and peer up into blinding whiteness.

You’re in a hospital room. Fucking fantastic.

“Easy, easy,” someone says –it’s Piotr, you recognize his voice even if you can’t see him—while you shield your eyes against the lights. “Hold still. I will turn lights down.”

You relax as the lights dim down to a more respectable level, then start trying to look around for your boyfriend –except you can’t really move; every single movement –even down to the twitch of your fingers—feels like you’re swimming through molasses.

Then there’s the sensation of the bed dipping on your left side, and Piotr’s face appears in your field of vision.

He cups your face gently in his hands, rubbing your cheeks with the utmost delicacy. He’s smiling, but his baby blue eyes are watering with unshed tears. “Privet, myshka. How are you feeling?”

You try to reply, but you can feel the thing on your face somewhat impeding the movement of your face. You try to reach towards it to move it away, but you have all the limb coordination of a newborn giraffe at the moment.

“Careful, careful,” Piotr cautions, taking your hand in his. “Oxygen mask. You were having difficulty breathing.”

Well. That explains that.

“Where… am I?” you rasp as you try to get your bearings.

“Hospital,” Piotr says. “You… you had seizure from cocaine. They had to give you some drugs to calm you down.”

You frown as you try to piece together what he’s saying. “I… can’t remember…”

“It is okay. Doctors said that might happen. Speaking of which—” he picks up the little remote attached to your bed “—I need to call your nurse so she can check on you.”

***

 The full story is such: you inhaled enough cocaine to cause an overdose, and that combined with the interaction between the coke and your meds caused you to experience psychosis before you started seizing. You blacked out when the seizure started, then lost consciousness when you started convulsing. Fortunately, the convulsions only started when you were two minutes away from the hospital. The team there was able to treat you almost immediately –with bendodiazepines, which is a fun word to say—and put you in a room for observations once they were able to stop the effects of the seizure and the overdose.

You don’t remember anything that happened on the jet, and barely anything from the mission itself or the incident in the warehouse –which, all things considered, might be for the best. You’ve got enough traumatic memories to deal with as is.

All in all, you’re tired. Between the mission, the overdose, the seizure, and the drugs they gave you to calm your body down, you feel like you’ve been awake for a week straight. You manage to stay conscious while the nurse checks you over and ascertains your memory recall –average, considering what you went through—but once she leaves, you’re out like a light.

You wake up a couple other times –once to go to the bathroom, once because Piotr sneezes—but otherwise you remain konked out well into the evening, when you wake up to a quiet cacophony of voices in your room.

At first, you almost right it off as having some sort of strange dream or semi-conscious auditory hallucination –except you pick up on that the voices are speaking Russian, and hey!

You open your eyes, and sure enough the rest of the Rasputin family is in your room, greeting Piotr and speaking to him and hushed, worried Russian.

Illyana, unsurprisingly, notices you’re awake first. “Hey.

Piotr’s by your side in an instant, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Privet, sleepyhead. How are you?”

“Really hungry,” you say, which is punctuated by your stomach gurgling. “Can I eat something?”

He kisses your forehead again before standing. “I will go ask nurse.”

Alexandra takes his spot as he strides out of the room, clasping your hand in hers and rubbing gentle circles on the back of it. “How are you, malen'kaya ptitsa?”

“Drugged as fuck,” you answer with a tiny smile. “I can’t… can’t remember most of what happened.”

“That is what medvezhonok said. He sounded very panicked over the phone.”

“It was pretty bad, apparently,” you say.

Mikhail grunts in agreement. “Uppers and antidepressants do not mix.” He holds up his hands defensively when Alexandra and Nikolai pin him with sharp looks. “Not speaking from experience! Just saying.”

You chuckle tiredly, then refocus on Alexandra. “Why are you guys here? I thought you were in Russia.”

“We were,” Nikolai pipes up. “We get call, then we come.”

You frown as you try to do the math. “But… the flight…”

“We teleport in emergencies,” Alex says with a conspiratorial wink. “Medvezhonok needs us. As do you. We are here to help until you’re back on your feet.”

You smile at them, chest swelling with appreciation and love. “Thank you.”

Alex just shakes her head and pats your hand. “We are family. It’s what we do.”

***

 The doctor on rotation comes in while you’re eating dinner. He checks your chart, asks you and Piotr a few questions about your medical history, then delivers what just might be the worst news of your life.

“I’m going to be here for a week?”

Okay, maybe ‘worst news of your life’ is a touch dramatic, but still.

“It’s standard practice with seizure patients,” he explains. “We need to make sure you’re stable, especially since it’ll take time for the cocaine to leave your system and you’re on antidepressants. Speaking of which, how familiar are you with drug withdrawal?”

You frown. “I mean… I’ve had painkillers after surgeries before.”

He quirks his mouth to one side, then shakes his head. “Not quite what I mean. You might experienced some minor side effects with that, but cocaine withdrawal is an entirely different beast. Even with your advanced constitution, you’re going to be in a world of hurt for a while.”

“What are we looking at?” Piotr asks.

“Well, typically, cocaine crash happens within the first week after taking the dose. Users who crash often go through various psychological side effects –increased anxiety, irritability and depressive symptoms—along with physical ones –chills, impaired coordination, exhaustion, and so on. Weeks one through four usually constitute the withdrawal part of the process. Again, there’s more of the symptoms I just mentioned, but also an uptick in nightmares, muscle and nerve pain, and difficulty concentrating. She’s basically going to need intensive care from her support system during the withdrawal process; there’s a reason why most centers that help people get clean are live-in facilities.”

“But I’ve never even done anything recreational before,” you insist. “I barely even drink.”

“And that’s definitely in your favor. The fact that you don’t have any preexisting habits puts you ahead of the game. But drug withdrawals severely impact brain chemistry,” the doctor explains patiently. “You’re not going to be yourself or think like you usually do. Your brain will be going through a depletion of endorphins, especially dopamine, and it’s going to drive you to possibly do some incredibly risky things to get more.”

“How do we keep her safe?” Piotr asks, expression concerned.

“Close supervision, for one. Making sure she’s comfortable, that she has the assistance she needs, and that she’s not isolated are going to be key. Keeping her closely in touch with her therapist or someone who specializes with helping addicts with be important, too.”

“But I’m not an addict,” you argue.

“You’re not, but specialists have more experience addressing the problems you’ll be facing. The goal is to help you as effectively as possible. Also, make a point to limit any other substances she could have access to –alcohol, prescription drugs, even over the counter stuff. People who do cocaine often try to get another hit by switching over to a different drug, and we don’t want to risk further complications. Do you live with her?”

Piotr nods.

“Good. You need to be in control of her medication until she’s completely recovered. I know it sounds ridiculous,” he adds when you make a noise of protest, “but this is a deathly serious situation. The odds of you overdosing via trying to get another high are exponentially higher right now. This is about keeping you safe.”

“But I don’t need to get another high!” you insist. “I’m fine!”

The doctor sighs and braces his forearms against his knees. “You inhaled a lot of cocaine when you fell into that vat. Between that and the benzodiazepines we gave you to stop the overdose seizure, you’re still high right now. You aren’t feeling any withdrawal symptoms because your body still has a lot of drugs in its system. Believe me, when they do hit, you will feel them and want to do anything to make them stop.” He favors you with a sympathetic smile. “This isn’t about you being a bad person, or an addict, or anything like that. The situation was an accident, and your intentions are good, but cocaine is a serious drug. All of this is for your safety, I promise you.”

You sigh –and reach for Piotr’s hand because all of this is more than a little terrifying—and nod. “Okay. What happens when I go back home?”

“I’ve instructed Dr. McCoy to keep you in observation for another three days, just to make sure your antidepressants are still interacting properly with your system. If all of that goes well, you’ll be free to resume normal life –under supervision, of course.”

You do your best not to pout. It’s for my own safety. “How long do I have to be supervised for?”

“Cocaine stays in the system for a long time. While withdrawal symptoms usually stop around the fourth week, the elimination stage –which is where the drug starts fully leaving your system and the risk of relapsing gets progressively smaller—can take up to five weeks on its own. Given that you have a slight healing factor and that you don’t have any other substance abuse problems, I would wager you might shave a week off of that cumulative total, but not much more than that.”

You grimace. “Ten weeks? I have to be supervised for ten weeks?”

“The supervision can be less restrictive as you progress through the weeks of the elimination phase, but yes, essentially. I’d advise setting rewards and goals for yourself at each milestone to help things progress better. The hospital staff will be providing you with some information about drug withdrawal and treatment before you leave; it should have suggestions for some good milestones to implement.”

You sigh, then look over at Piotr. “Here’s hoping you don’t get sick of me in that time.”

He smiles fondly at you and kisses your cheek. “Never.”

 ***

 Withdrawal hits like a bitch.

You’re cold. Downright freezing. No matter how many blankets you shiver under, you can’t get warm.

The monitor you’re hooked up to, however, says that your temperature is staying at a healthy level, the lying little bitch.

“I swear to Danny Devito that thing is mocking me,” you grumble as you eye the readout of the traitorous device. “There’s no way my temperature’s normal.”

“Give it time, myshka,” Piotr says as he loads up a spoon with more ‘berry blast’ yogurt; your coordination is still completely tanked, so he’s taken to feeding you for the time being like the absolute angel he is. “You will feel better eventually.”

You groan and grudgingly eat more yogurt. “I just want to feel better now.”

“I know, moya lyubov’. I know.”

***

 The anxiety is worse.

Even though you’re still on your anti-depressants –score one to the latent healing factor and overall hardiness mutation there, if you’d had to go off those too you might’ve lost your mind—the crash and slow withdrawals from the coke you’d accidentally taken is enough to put you on a knife blade’s edge. You feel like you’re continually one split second away from a panic attack, no matter how much deep breathing or meditating you do.

Fortunately for you, though, Piotr is a dedicated partner and fiancé who knows just about every trick in the books to help you relax. He has Ellie –who has her license now, which is kind of hard to believe, you swear she just turned sixteen yesterday—bring your favorite movies from the house and generally helps you stay distracted. When you do tip over into a panic attack, he’s right by your side and stays there until you ride it out.

You’re not sure where you’d be without him –here, and in life in general.

 ***

 The exhaustion, however, is what really kills it.

You can’t remember a time where you’ve ever been more tired. Missions, flying out to your uncles, your various escape attempts, flying to the X-Mansion for the first time, escaping kidnapping attempts, that one time you decided to stay awake for three days because Piotr was off on a mission and it sounded like fun and then he came back home to you being borderline delirious and attempting to cook Bagel Bites in the toaster (sorry, Piotr)…

It goes past being just “tired.” You’re exhausted all the way down to your bones, to the point where you can barely move or eat or do anything, and no amount of sleeping makes it better.

Worse still is that Piotr seems determined to keep you on a somewhat normal sleep cycle –which, okay, you need to be on one for the sake of your mental health, but you’re so damn tired that it almost seems pointless.

You sob when he rouses you from yet another nap. “Please,” you beg, “please, baby, I’m so tired, just let me sleep…”

Piotr wipes away your tears and kisses your forehead gently. “I know, moya lyubov’, but it is not good to sleep all day. Besides, it is time to eat.”

“I don’t want to,” you weep. “I just want to sleep, please just let me sleep!”

He hugs you gently, careful not to disrupt the hookup to the heart monitor, and presses his lips to the top of your head. “I know, but you need to take medication. Besides, I brought your favorite.”

You pry your eyes open, sniffling –and sure enough, he’s brought a food container from home stuffed with chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, the works. “Can I sleep after I eat?”

“After a bit. You should try to stay awake for little bit.”

You whimper and try to turn away from him. “No—”

“I know, I know.” He smooths your hair away from your face in a soothing fashion. “And I am so sorry, moya lyubov’, but you know it’s best for you.”

You sniff inelegantly, then turn back towards him and take the box. “Fine. But I’m not sharing my bacon.”

Piotr chuckles and kisses your temple. “Whatever helps you get through it, myshka.”

(You wind up sharing your bacon anyway.)

 ***

 Despite your misery, the week passes quickly enough –which probably has to do with your general disorientation regarding the passage of time, what with your exhaustion and all, which only adds to your suffering.

The Rasputin family takes various turns watching over you and keeping you company while Piotr gets sleep or attends to his duties as an X-Men and general overseeing adult at the Institute. Mikhail and Alexandra teach you the finer points of playing Poker without losing like a scrub, Nikolai tells various stories about growing up in Russia and his kids’ early lives, and Illyana pops in from time to time to just keep you company –more often than not, with Kitty in tow as well.

Ellie even drives Russell and Yukio over and figures out how to hookup her Wii to the TV in your room so the four of you can play. Your skills at Mario Kart are none too improved by your impaired coordination –but, considering you were pretty shit at it to begin with, not too much of your game play is changed overall.

Conspicuously absent, however, are Nate and Wade. You’ve gathered that Wade is still pretty freaked out by the whole thing and is generally avoiding Piotr and his family at all rational –and irrational, because Wade—costs, and that Nate is babysitting him to make sure he doesn’t go on a reign of panic-induced destruction, if the texts he sent to Piotr are to be believed.

Which, honestly, is probably the best thing for Nathan to be doing right now. Wade gets extremely unpredictable when he’s stressed out; having Nate around is basically the only way to ensure he doesn’t attempt to “liberate” the zoo again –or, worse, do something hurt himself.

Either way, after one week of observation, you’re discharged with a few hefty bills, a thick pamphlet of information about recovering from withdrawals and what to look out for, and strict instructions to take it easy and for other adults to keep a close eye on you.

And then you’re taken home and veritably shunted into another hospital bed for another three days of observation.

Honestly, fuck your life.

 ***

 Granted, things could be worse. You’re surrounded by your friends and family, you can afford the bills you’ve accrued from this whole shitshow, you’ve got medical staff used to dealing with the special conditions that come attached with your mutant status, and you don’t have a past addiction to deal with on top of all this.

And gratitude is good, as is perspective, but sometimes suffering is suffering –constantly making sure your attitude is justified is exhausting and nigh impossible.

Plus, you’ve hit a second wave of side effects: freakish nightmares and full body pain! Fantastic!

(To be read as: not fantastic.)

Piotr’s by your side when you wake up with a whimper. “What’s wrong, moya dusha?”

“Nightmare,” you groan, waving your hand dismissively. “Just… weird.” You blink a few times, then peer at him, confused. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Not quite,” he says. “Mikhail will switch off with me soon.” He smoothes your hair back, then kisses your forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit.” You wince, then try to reposition yourself as aches run through your body –not to any particular avail, since the pain seems to run straight through your bones and out the other side.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

He tsks quietly –a habit you’ve learned he picked up from Nikolai—and starts rubbing your hands and forearms.

And it does help you feel better, just a little.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tiredly.

“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Just… you have to deal with all this. It’s so much. You don’t deserve that.”

“And you don’t deserve to be dealing with withdrawals or any of it. Besides—” he kisses the bridge of your nose “—we are going to be married soon. That means ‘for better or worse, in sickness and health.’”

“I’m pretty sure whoever created those vows didn’t have ‘accidentally falling into a giant vat of cocaine’ in mind when they wrote them,” you mutter.

Piotr snorts, quietly. “Perhaps not, but principle is same. Besides, I love you. This is no burden.”

“There is an objective level of burden here, Piotr. Even if you don’t mind it, you’re still dealing with a lot.”

Piotr goes quiet for a moment, then concedes with a nod and small smile. “Fair enough –but as you said, I do not mind. You are my fiancée and love of my life. I would sacrifice much more for you than what I have to do with this.”

You lean towards him –even though it sends stabs of pain all over your body, but you can’t be assed to care right now—and kiss his shoulder. “Well, here’s hoping you don’t have to.”

***

 Your uncle shows up on the second day of observation at the X-Mansion.

He practically tumbles into the room you’re staying in, hair wet and t-shirt somewhat askew, but otherwise in one piece. “What the fuck happened?”

You stare at him, agape. “What are you doing here? Why are you wet?”

“Alex called me. Said you were in the hospital. I flew out as soon as I finished my most recent mission,” he explains in a rush. “Showered first. I figured you guys would appreciate that.”

“Uh, yeah. Probably.” You frown when you notice him swaying a little on his feet. “When was the last time you slept? Or ate anything?”

“Oh, come on, I’m not that hopeless. It was…” His voice trails off as he starts ticking off numbers on his fingers, which stops shortly after as his face goes blank, which in turn is punctuated by a simultaneous yawn and shockingly loud gurgle from his stomach.

Piotr bites back a snort –Mikhail doesn’t bother—and stands. “I can—”

“Nyet, nyet,” Nikolai interjects as he stands. He says something else in Russian, nodding to you with a smile, kisses Alex on the forehead, then clasps your uncle’s shoulder as he walks out of the room.

“What’d he say?” you ask Piotr as he sits back down in the seat next to your bed.

“Just that I should stay with you.” He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it.

“Right. Okay.” Your uncle plops haphazardly into a seat provided by Mikhail, scrubs his face with his hands, then gives you a slightly crazed look that you suspect is mostly fueled by exhaustion-induced delirium. “What happened?”

You look at Piotr, then shrug. “Uh… I accidentally fell into a vat of cocaine and overdosed.”

“…What?”

***

 Wade finally shows up three days after Dr. McCoy releases you into Piotr’s –along with his family’s and your uncle’s—care.

Which isn’t to say that he necessarily shows up of his own volition.

“Nate! Put me down you time traveling, infinity scarf wearing, fuck-boi haircut sporting bastard! I’m fucking serious! I’ll chop off my testicles and hide them under your pillow –again!”

“Like you said, wouldn’t be the first time!”

“Nathan Charles Elizabeth Craigory Sam-becca Summers, so fucking help me—”

You and Piotr watch –along with Mikhail, who’s basically on the floor in a fit of hysterical laughter at this point—as Nathan forcibly carries Wade into your room –and, in a moment of predictable and yet somehow unpredictable desperation, Wade tries to brace himself against the doorframe like a dog who doesn’t want to get into the bath and is doing everything they can to avoid getting wet.

“You fucking cheater!” Wade gasps when Nathan uses his telekinesis to force Wade’s arms and legs forward. “You can’t just do that!”

“Can and did, sweetheart.” Nathan grunts as he sets Wade on the floor, facing your bed –which is where you currently are, propped up on a bunch of pillows. “Time to face the music, darling.”

“Absolutely not. Ryan Reynolds couldn’t make me face my emotions, and neither can you.”

“Wade,” Piotr says softly. “Talk to us. What is wrong?”

Wade looks pointedly at the ceiling and groans. “Ugh, why does he have to be so gentle? So caring? He’s like if the Pillsbury Doughboy and modern therapy conventions had a lovechild.”

Mikhail blinks slowly as he tries to process the sentence. “Pills-berry… what?”

You just shake your head at him.

“Wade,” Piotr says, a little more serious this time. “Please. This is serious matter.”

Nathan takes Wade’s hand and squeezes it gently when the other man looks pointedly at the floor. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

“I fucked up,” Wade says after a moment. “It’s… it’s my fault.”

A mildly pained expression crosses Piotr’s face. “What did you break? Did –Wade, if you had another run in with soap dispensers—”

“No! Although, I do need to refill mine back at home; thanks for reminding me.”

“I refilled our soap dispenser yesterday. With actual soap,” Nathan retorts in the tone of someone who is deeply in love but also deeply annoyed. “And stick to the point, sweetheart.”

Wade fidgets for a moment, then looks to Nate for reassurance, then sighs when the gray-haired man nods. “What happened with Y/N. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have even had her in the warehouse. I know the ins and outs of coke, I know it’s dangerous to people who take antidepressants, I should’ve sent her out with you—”

“Wade,” Piotr says gently, cutting the scarred man off before he can dive too deeply into guilt. “What happened was an accident. I know that, Y/N knows that, we all know that. In fact, if you had not been there, she probably would have been in much worse danger. By all accounts, you helped save her life –so, thank you.”

Wade purses his lips, but manages a small nod before looking at you. “Can I talk to you for a minute? If you’re feeling up to it?”

You nod, then pat Piotr’s shoulder. “I’ll be alright.”

Piotr kisses your forehead, then stands and motions for Mikhail to follow him out –which the eldest Rasputin does without question or complaint.

Nate kisses Wade on the temple, then follows the two brothers into the hall.

You pat an open spot on the bed. “Come sit.”

Wade does, sighing heavily and curling forward so his forehead is resting against your shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes. “I never wanted anything like this to happen to you.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hugging him. “You took good care of me afterwards –and, like Piotr said, it’s not your fault.”

Wade laughs thinly. “Not gonna lie, I was pretty sure he was going to kill me when Nate dragged me over here.”

“Nathan would never let that happen,” you chuckle. “And Piotr wouldn’t do that, either. You drive him a little crazy, but he knows when you’ve instigated something and when you haven’t.”

“I’m always instigating something.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Wade concedes with a sigh. He sits up and gives you a half-hearted smile. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you groan. “Withdrawals are a bitch. Cravings, too.”

“Yeah,” Wade says with a chuckle. “Those go away a lot faster when you have a healing factor.”

“Lucky you.” You latch onto his hand. “I didn’t think I’d even get cravings. I’ve never even done drugs before.”

Wade shrugs. “It’s not necessarily about coke; it’s about the dopamine and serotonin. It just becomes a coke thing because of how much gets unleashed on the brain when you take coke.”

“And here you say you aren’t smart,” you tease him.

“I snorted six kilos of cocaine in three minutes after ‘Nessa died,” Wade grumbles. “If that didn’t teach me anything about coke and the brain, nothing would.”

You grimace slightly. “That’s not healthy.”

“Yeah, well, Nathan made me get rid of my stash, so don’t worry. Can’t do anything anymore.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

“Says who?”

“Scientists and doctors everywhere. And also Nathan.”

Wade huffs, though there’s no real anger behind the noise. “Well, I know who I’m listening to.” He pauses, then smiles and checks you gently with his shoulder. “Love you, sis.”

You grin and check him back –well, as much as you can in your state. “Love you, too, bro.”

***

Here are the resources I used when writing this fic:

Cocaine:

-https://www.drugfreeworld.org/drugfacts/cocaine/effects-of-cocaine.html

-https://drugabuse.com/cocaine/effects-use/

-https://drug.addictionblog.org/how-long-does-cocaine-last/

-https://www.therecoveryvillage.com/cocaine-addiction/withdrawal-detox/#gref

-https://www.thefix.com/content/ask-expert-which-street-drugs-dont-mix-antidepressants

-https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/drugs-recreational-drugs-alcohol/recreational-drugs-medication/#.XTWlDOhKjIU

-https://www.therecoveryvillage.com/cocaine-addiction/cocaine-overdose/#gref

-https://www.mentalhelp.net/substance-abuse/cocaine/overdose/

-https://deserthopetreatment.com/drug-overdose/how-much-cocaine/

Drug-induced seizures:

-https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4767205/

Epilepsy (for general understanding on seizures):

-https://www.epilepsy.com/start-here/about-epilepsy-basics/what-happens-during-seizure

-http://wwwp.medtronic.com/Newsroom/LinkedItemDetails.do?itemId=1160041417054&itemType=fact_sheet&lang=en_IN

[roseamongroses]

Antithesis: (1) “cracks knuckles its time to get educated fools”

Summary: For their Junior project, Roman is unceremoniously paired with Dmitri. 

He's hardly interacted with the guy, a strange occurrence since Virgil has had a weird/unexplained hate-hate relationship with him since middle-school. But it isn't like he's complaining. Dmitri's cute, he compliments Roman, and damn can he paint.So Roman may or may not catch feelings, and he may not be wiling to uncatch them anytime soon.--Dmitri returns the sentiment.

[General Warnings:] Misgendering, Past Misgendering, Past Bullying, Mild Sexual Content,  implied emotional abuse, Cursing [Tags/mood:] highschool au, project troupe, fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men [Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters] Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana) 

(1) (2)

R: hey this is Roman[star] [crown] [star]

R: what do you have in mind for the project??

---

As simple as that text was, according to his very reliable memory, it took him exactly an entire decade to work up the nerve to send that. And he was not a coward mind you- reasonably afraid of sudden movements, sure, but no damn coward. He made sure to inherit the fight gene when he was in the womb with Virgil, around the same time he graciously decided not to absorb the little shit.

As if to further emphasis the magnitude of his fetal sacrifice, Virgil gulped down the rest of the milk. Straight from the pint. Just as Roman poured his cereal.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, “What’s got you all riled up prin-cy?” he tossed the pint. Even though Mom wasn’t there to rag on him for being an absolute heathen, she could still do so later if he left behind evidence.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He ate his cereal dry, carefully avoiding Virgil’s scrutiny.

“Oh--” Virgil choked, “Oh shit, what did you do.”

“Excuse me,”Roman squawked, “I did nothing, you here? I am a good child.”

“Fuckface,”

“We have the same face,”

“Fuckface,” Virgil flicked his dyed purple, and regularly straightened hair for emphasis, “Last time you didn’t actively shout your problems, we found several stray cats in your room--and then there's the time you lit grandpa’s shed on fire with your self care candles and then there was the homecoming incident of fres-”

“--Ok,” Roman interrupted, “--wow Virgil, drag up my entire hero’s journey while you’re at it,” he pouted, “It’s no big deal, really.”

“When the hero’s journey could make a convincing argument in a court of law that you’re unreasonably fire-prone, then yes it's a big deal Ro, spill.”

“I’m just a little,” understatement, “Overwhelmed, by our junior project--” It's definitely not the project, definately definately, definitely not the project.

“That thing?” Virgil frowned, confused, “Me n’ L, going down to the space-station to do interviews, and a couple of presentations, what's going on in the art department?”

“Fuckin’ nerds,” Roman snorted, stabbing his cereal again, “Pat jus’ had to switch last minute to help the new kid out, so Dee and I got paired together and he--”Roman looked up,suddenly very aware of how Virgil’s normally slouched position became deathly straight, face calm, “Uh...Virge…?”

Roman feels like he forgot something important.

Virgil smiled, “What did that snake-fucker Dmitri do?”

Bingo, that’s what he forgot.

It wasn’t like Virgil’s thing with Dee was something that could be traced back to one particular incident, more like a culmination of the two being forced into being in each others general vicinity when they did not in fact want that company.

Roman avoided that drama, mainly because Virgil and him could hardly stand each other at the time either. So most of what he knows is second hand.

Though Virgil has explained it as, “When he opens his mouth, my flight or fight response is activated.” and as far as Roman knows Dmitri just returned the sentiment.

Roman shoved another spoonful of cereal in his mouth, “Chill, it’s Nothing, really, just, he said something that caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed, “If he does it again, tell me,” he said, “Logan says I can restart the prank war with probable cause.”

Roman shrugged,“-Kay” he said

He will most certainly not.

---

D:Sanders? from 3rd block?

R: ye who else would i be??? where is this other roman???

D:Who knows? How do I know you’re not Virgil w/ Roman’s phone?

R: //gasp// i am no fake. 

D: Proof?

R:[Picture: Roman’s knees are pulled to his chest, him pouting at the camera. 

His hair dyed aubrun and  thrown into a messy bun, paint and freckles littering his  brown skin]

[ThatOneGuyThatVirgilHates <3’s a picture]

D: Oh thank god you are the cute one

---

[out of the way fives]

Hotleg: so.

Sipsipsippin: dammit roman.

Hotleg: i didnt even say anything how dare

Sipsipsippin:hon, i dated you, i know.

Hotleg: we made out like once

Sipsipsippin: i know.

Hotleg: it was like, eigth grade

Sipsipsipin: i k n o w

Hotleg: ok, ok wise and powerful, remington. Guess who it is, bitch.

Sipsipsippin: ill bite

Sipsipsippin: logan?

Hotleg:....

Hotleg: id say ew, but,,,im not entirely agnst that, ,,, i

Hotleg: nope no, it is not infact logan

Sipsipsippin: FUCK i owe pat a five

Hotleg:????betrayl??????in my sanctum????

Sipsipsippin: shh, i did not type that and you saw nothing

Sipsipsippin: gah give me a hint

Hotleg: hes,,,, good with his hands ;)

----

Remy slammed his hands down the table, “Roman you filthy animal tell me who it is.”

A few people nearby looked up, startled, but not entirely surprised. Patton still winced, pointedly looking at his book and pretending like he didn’t know these actual public disturbances but didn’t bother to move. Which is hard to do regardless, when one Roman has made your shoulder his home.

“Sorry can’t speak english,” Roman said, exaggerating his drawl. He picked off of the leftovers on Patton’s plate, avoiding the daggers being driven into him from behind Remy’s tinted frames.

“Patton, do you know?” Remy asked.

Patton frowned, “Know what?” He flipped a page.

“Our wittle Roman’s got a cwush.” Remy slid into a chair, grabbing a fry.

Patton tilted his head, giving Roman a smile, “A crush you say?”

“Shit.” Roman moved to scramble out of his seat, but Patton somehow managed to put down his book, and fit his arm snug around his waist, tugging him lightly back down.

“Pattonnnn,” He whined, “This is an abuse of my need for affection.”

“Poor baby boy,” Patton hummed, “So, about this crush.”

“C’mon Pat, it could just be a squish,”

“Ro, do you find all your squishies that attractive?” Remy said.

“I find all of my friends aesthetically pleasing, I love you all, lots. I would kill for all of you without hesitation.” Patton rested his chin on Roman’s head, “Did he talk about their hands?” he asked pointedly.

“He wrote poetry.”

“Not to romo,” Patton said, “but yeah it’s a Roman Crush™.”

“I just said how much I loved you guys and this is the betrayal I receive? I thought y’all were the Evagiline to my Ray- instead you’re the animation industry to my animators.”

“Bitch, you bugged me all last week about the same shit,” Remy shot back, lovingly, “Karma’s here, so tell me his name or I’m stealing your toenails and feeding them to your first born.” He sipped his drink, face victorious.

Mid gasp, Roman felt Patton’s grip around his waist tighten. He turned around curiously finding Patton’s attention no longer at the table.

Roman followed his line of sight, blinking, “Dmitri?”

“You have a crush on D--fuck,” Remy hissed, rubbing where Roman’s heel dug into his thigh.

“Sorry can’t hear you,” Roman gritted through his teeth, “--call again after the beep bi-Hi Dee!”

Patton leaned back in his chair, picking up his book again but had yet to remove his arm.

Dmitri shifted the tray in his hands, “Uh, hey,” he smiled, “Can I talk to you?” His hair was down today, the short bob barely falling past his shoulders, but his clothes were noticeably covered paint, yet frustratingly enough other than that, nothing seemed ruffled or half assed. All clean lines and angles.

“What about?” Roman’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah,” Remy chimed, waggling his eyebrows, “What abou-oW.”

Dmitri ignored that, “Can I talk to you,” He glanced at Patton, “Privately,” he emphasised, “I found some old art magazines and projects in the library storage room, Mrs. Ider said we can check it out.”

“Uh, okay,” Roman nodded dumbly. He hopped up, snagging a fry before he followed Dmitri.

Walking down the long stretch of hallway, Roman found himself checking his watch several times- something he hardly ever does. Yet, the uncomfortable silence lingered, with only Dmitri’s avoident gazes and the clicks of Roman’s boots to fill the silence.

Lucky for Roman, his tendency for avoidance was relatively short on supply.

“Did I do something wrong?” Roman forced himself not to wince at how needy he sounded.

Dmitri opened the door for him, blinking, “Of course--” his voice dropped to a a whisper as the entered, “Of course not, why do you say so?”

“You seem different?”

“We’ve hardly talked before, aside from text.” Dmitri reasoned, tone awfully similar to when Logan’s trying to justify consuming an entire jar of Crofters in one sitting.

“Dee,” Roman said, raising an eyebrow, “That’s true, but you’re hardly one to get… nervous,” he said, “I’ve heard enough stories from Virgil alone to know.”

Dee froze, neither smiling or frowning, “What… type of stories.” His cheeks were delightfully pinched pink. “Tell me what I did wrong and--” Roman switched on the light to the libraries storage room, hiding a wicked smile as he glanced back, “And I’ll tell you some of my favorites.”

“Just wonderful,” Dmitri muttered, stepping inside as well, “But truthfully you did nothing wrong, I just don’t quite know how to do apologies.”

“Same,” Roman said, “Where are the ‘zines?” he distractedly asked, dragging the step ladder from behind the door.

“Back, left shelf,” Dmitri replied. He steadied the step ladder as Roman climbed up searching the dusty shelves. “What were you trying to not apologize for?” Roman asked, dropping magazines to the floor beside him.

“The...flirting?”

“Oh just the flirting?” he paused, holding a magazine to his chest, “Oh.” he repeated, now breathless. Dmitri looked way, ”Yeah, it didn’t mean anything, sorry,” he said, “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, I swear I’m usually only a little sleazy.”

“So,” Roman dropped the next magazine, ”It was a joke.” He said a bit quieter, the magazine slapped the ground with more force.

“So is everything cool or…?”

“Uh,” Roman breathed in, blinking rapidly, “Uh, yeah it's all-- Wait, did you say boyfriend?”

“Yes...Is he not?”

“Who, who would--Oh. Oh, No, Patton isn’t--” Roman’s shoulders sagged, “We’re just friends.”

Roman stepped down from the ladder and was met with Dmitri’s look of skepticism.

“Oh, then I meant every word.” Dmitri said, all too casually, “Are you always so touchy with your friends?” he questioned, voice softer.

“Only if they want to.” Roman shrugged, “What do you and your friends do?”

“I don’t have… that many,” Dmitri admitted with a shrug of his own, the two of them hefting up their own pile of magazines, “And the ones I do would probably punch me if I tried anything like that.”

“Do you want to be able to do that?” Roman questioned, tugging open the door with ease, holding it open for Dmitri with his back. Dmitri was quiet, the two settling the stacks onto a table.

“Hey you don’t have to answer it’s really no pressu--”

“No it's fine,” Dmitri said, hugging his arms, “I’d… think I would, but I doubt any of my friends would want to…” His nose curled, “They’d tell me to piss off and get a girlfriend,”

“Well,” Roman said, “I’m your friend, and I’m certainly not going to promote the heterosexual agenda, unless that’s your thing, so I guess the awful duty of cuddles befalls on me,” He winked.

Dmitri looked at him again, “...I guess it does.”

Ao3

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

In and out (Part 3) (Nathan Drake & Male reader)

Read: Part one  Part two

Description: There was a deal between Elena and Nathan to make her way to Yemen for managing to get them to the city. But plans don’t go so easily as they should. Well, isn’t that pretty common thing for Nathan & Co.™?

@march-moon , for ya, baby.

Warnings: None really, just another establishment, getting a bit deeper into characters' history here. :)

Also also, one of my friends asked me, what is Flo’s theme (I have a theme for every character I work with). She doesn’t specifically have a theme, but I would recommend Feeling Good by Nina Simone or I Got You Babe by Etta James, which is sorta reffering to their relationship by itself.  

The last author’s note: Heavily inspired by the Uncharted 4: Nathan Drake and Uncharted 4: Victor Sullivan playlists on Spotify!

Nathan had seriously enough at that point.

To recapitulate everything that happened, he, Sully and Florence got to Syria right on time. They found Chloe and Cutter alive and well and met up with them at a Syrian cathedral. It even looked that Chloe and Cutter weren't followed, which was also good.

So far so good, right? Nathan shouldn't be so excited, it had to fuck up at some point. And when it happened, it was truly terrific.

Not even that Talbot, that jerk working for Marlowe, managed to get or stole, depending on a point of view, that second half of the amulet which Chloe, Sully, Nathan, and Cutter have found, but Cutter was poisoned by some hallucinogenic shit and he was doing some seriously bad stuff, like handing them the notebook and whatsoever. Florence didn't go with them, because Sully was afraid that she will get hurt and he didn't want to take that risk.

Which showed as a huge mistake, because they got ambushed again and Cutter broke his leg when they tried to escape - so he and Chloe then decided to travel back to London and letting that leg recover.

To summarize it all; the amulet showed them some more clues and Nathan, Sully and Florence decided to go to Yemen on their own. But the amulet was stolen, they didn't know where to go exactly and a half of their team was practically fucked and unable of functioning. The only optimistic thing was that so far, everyone was well and alive.

"I told you so, Victor," Florence said in a cold voice and cleaned him another cut with concentrated alcohol. Sully grunted at her words and tried to release his hand from Florence's, but she was intransigent and seriously mad because she could make such a big difference. "You should let me go with you. But no, you didn't, because I'm apparently a little girl who can't do anything on her own." She hissed and then hit directly to the shoulder on another of his bruises.

"Nobody said that sunshine," Sullivan whispered and tried to smooth her face, but her look almost killed him on the spot.

"But you thought that apparently. Now excuse me, Mister Sullivan, I'm going on the toilet now." Florence said sarcastically and left Nathan, who was half fallen asleep, and Sully, who had remorses.

She was seriously pissed at him this time; Florence and Cutter were great friends since Sully introduced them, actually. Sully took her every summer to London for a week or two long vacations just to visit him and then they traveled back home, looking for some gigs and taking care of Sully's bar in the meantime. (Sully does, in fact, own a bar, it was said in Uncharted: Golden Abyss).

And when Drake and Sully came with Cutter who they needed to carry so he could manage to walk somehow, she almost went crazy and yelled at Sullivan and Nathan for ten minutes, about things like how the hell did they even let that happen and if they even thought during the fleeing. And Sully's arguments didn't help at all, they made the situation even worse actually.

"Problems in paradise, pal?" Nathan mumbled and opened his eyes a little to look at Sullivan in that low airplane light.

"An angry woman," Sully chuckled and looked over to Nathan, adjusting the bandage on his hand. "Guess you know that, kid."

"I know it seriously well, so if you need any help..." Nathan smiled a little and looked at the night sky, seeing Sully smiling.

"I'm quite enjoying it, but I appreciate your offer." Sully sat comfortably into the seat, leaned back his head and closed his eyes.

"So have you contacted her as I asked ya?" Sully asked and Nathan's face turned straight pale. Her name was Elena Fisher, she was a woman who he met four years ago during his search for the lost city of El Dorado and they have been together for more than a year. Then she went by his side to the Himalayas, to put it better, they broke up and he met Elena there, and after that, they got officially married.

But it didn't go as planned and even tough Nate could see a part of himself in her and Elena could see herself in Nate, it just didn't work out for them. Sully with Florence went to the wedding as their witnesses and that day was the best in his life. It was big, cute and full of people he loved, he had Sully there, Chloe with Cutter paid them a visit and even Florence stayed until the deepest night, when Sullivan took her to the dancefloor and danced with her on a slow song - even though weird looks from some guests, they didn't care. Elena had quite a few friends and family members there, which was a thing that was Nate missing so much. He finally felt like he actually belongs somewhere.

But after a few months, he and Elena decided to split up from each other, just to clear their minds and hearts, to make sure what their expectations of life are and to fund out if they're actually happy in that marriage. Elena worked as a very skilled translator and a journalist, she even had her own show, and she had to leave the city very often and Nathan wasn't the best company either. He was a privateer, in his own words, which basically meant that the right amount of money will make him do anything, except murder.

And yesterday was the first day Nate spoke with Elena after six months. It was nice hearing that she was nice and well and so on, and after a long conversation, she promised that she'll get them into the city in Yemen with some press passes because of the riots which were currently going on there.

"She'll get us to the city with some press passes. We're good." Nathan answered roughly than he planned to. Sully knew that talking about Elena still hurt him, but to be honest, he loved that little blonde as his own daughter. And he had the need to tell his opinion to Nate almost every two months.

Florence was more intimate about that theme knowing like he felt at that time. Even she had to leave Sullivan for quite a while to find herself, even though she saw that they are two pieces of a puzzle which complete each other. Even though they were so distant in natures, in age and in opinions they somehow felt like a one person. And Nate shared this connection with Elena, he did, but nor of them found a way to come together.

And he didn't know how to feel about seeing her tomorrow in Yemen. He was nervous and scared of seeing Elena in real life that he was sure he will forget how to speak in one moment.

"I'm good. Ya, not." Sully stated, referring to Nathan's we're good, covering himself with a light blanked and yawning out loud.

"Yeah, mister wise-ass. What should I tell her? Sorry for not responding to your calls and e-mails? For half a year?" Nathan laughed ironically and looked at his older partner in crime.

"Nate, she's a spectacular young lady. Elena can figure out your mess before you even know about that mess." Sully smiled and Nathan could say that he's most probably right, but not saying it out loud.

"Am I seriously taking advice from a guy whose fiancé practically refuses to speak with him?" Nate laughed to himself, covering his tensed jaw in a sharp inhale. At least they managed to get a shower and some relatively clean clothes on.

"Oh, Nate. You still gotta learn a few things about women." Sully smiled. Then both of them shut up as Florence managed to get back from the toilets.

"Was afraid of ya. Thought ya got stuck or something." Sully joked and Nate had to smile at that. He was teasing her every time he could and it was the most honest and genuine thing that anyone managed to do in front of him.

"Oh, you booty hunter, you know that I can't get stuck with my precious bum." She answered and Nate could hear the amusement in her voice. She didn't forgive them but it was on the best way possible.

"So we're talking again. Relieving." Sully answered ironically. "Thought that I'll have at least a quiet flight because you were mad. And I will apparently have not."

"Shush you old man. You don't know what's good." Florence whispered as she adjusted pillow on Sully's shoulder. That was so similar to what he and Elena had when they actually managed to be together. Teasing, jokes and some pretty naughty things said under the context of the words, covered in a huge amount of love. And Nathan was missing it. But he didn't blame Elena to actually brought the theme of splitting up on the table. Nathan wouldn't be able to live with himself either.

"I missed ya, sunshine," Sullivan said quietly and let Florence snuggle to his shoulder, entwining his right hand with hers under the blankets.

"I was afraid that something bad happened to you when I saw Cutter. Don't you dare to make me stay in the city again, deal?"

"Oh, Florence..."

"I can manage a hell out of living for you if you want it so recklessly Sullivan," Florence answered with a sign of a clear mind. Sullivan was stuck in between two decisions - to let her actually go with them and let her kick some asses or don't let her, she will go anyway and as a bonus, she'll show him how mad she can get.

Sully brought her to this kind of life actually. He started to take her to his gym when she was twenty-four and then managed her to start a course of martial arts and defense with knives - she wasn’t the best, but her skills were pretty impressive if you ask Nathan. His pride was pretty hurt when the two of them got to the boxing ring; she was slim and a few inches smaller than him, so she used that as her privilege and brutally kicked his ass.

But Sully became worried after they put it back together and not acknowledging that she is pretty good in martial arts in fact because he was so afraid of losing her again without the vision of not getting her back to his side. Everyone knew that he's worried for no reason, and yet he was so stubborn it actually hurt.

“Why do I guess that I have nothing to decide here, do I?” Sullivan looked at her without a clear expression in his frowned face.

“I would say so.” Nathan agreed and winked at Florence with a sign of conspiration in his look. 

“Shush you two and go to sleep, we have a long day before us tomorrow.” Sullivan stagnated without any sign of a decision. But Florence smiled at Nathan knowing that they most likely succeeded in the things they wanted to. 

The flight wasn’t as long as they originally thought it will be, so every one of them slept not even about two hours before they had to pack all of their personal stuff and get out of the plane. They looked like a band of totally reckless booty hunters and as a band of idiots without any good sleep at once. 

Sully had a huge frown on his face and his eyes didn’t shine as usual - he felt very pissed about something and Flo nor Nate had the courage to test it out. He had yesterday’s crumpled shirt on and he looked seriously tired.

Florence walked next to him in a short beige adventurer’s shorts with high socks and hiking shoes on, a huge shirt with short sleeves in a light turquoise color has been tethered around her waist, covering the black top she had dressed on. Her hair was in a messy bun and her eyes were covered under big sunglasses. She looked like she came to Yemen straight up some huge party or that she just simply climbed out of a trash can, she barely balanced the knapsack of her clothes which she carried on the shoulder. 

Sully had Florence’s hand in his and like that, they looked like they came straight to blow the shit up. 

Nathan most probably looked the worst out of them, walking next to the duo like a pile of bad sleep, depression and scare in one big pack. He sweated out the hell out of himself in during the plane flight, his ass hurt pretty badly and his back was just a bunch of hurting nerves. And he seriously wanted to curse - yet he was afraid that Elena could somehow hear it. 

But they stood there for ten minutes, Flo managed to light up another of her light L&M, which nobody except Sully didn't seem to mind, and they still couldn’t see any sight of Elena. 

They were on the right spot, on an empty landing ramp in the middle of the desert practically, on the right time. Where she was? Elena wasn’t the person to forget something so major. She simply wasn’t.

As Sully and Florence went on with their bickering, Sully still held her hand in his, Nathan noticed a dude walking directly to them through the empty landing ramp. Nate just prayed to God for that dude not being another Jeff, a guy who was alongside Elena in the Himalayas.

This one was a bit different. He was smiling at them and his pace was somehow relaxed and fast at once. That guy looked somehow nice to Nate in a totally weird way.

“Hey!” The guy yelled a little to gain the attention of everyone in the group and waved at them. Florence immediately shut up and stopped naming every reason for Sully to think she is the best thing in his life and because of that he should let her smoke, and Sullivan just looked at that guy.

“And who the hell are ya? Not any kind of policeman, I hope?” Sully asked, nervously watching the cigarette in Florence’s hand.

“No, but even though I should ask you to stop it.” The strange guy looked at them and Sully looked like he won a ping-pong championship in his pub.

“Not to do what?” Florence asked in a teasing voice, inhaling the cigarette’s smoke again. 

“Holding hands. It’s sorta frowned up upon here. Or are you two married?” The guy asked with a face that simply said sorry.

“No!-” Flo screamed as if he said some seriously bad curse word and got her cheeks pretty rosy. But Sully’s calm voice interrupted her scream. “Not yet.” He said and Florence looked at him with her what the hell, I’m panicking right now face.

“Who are you, by the way?” Nathan asked and looked directly at the guy. He only smiled and looked at the passes in his hand. “Where’s Miss Fisher?” Nathan asked and tried to clear his throat, still worried that Elena is somewhere around them. 

“She couldn’t make it on time, so she asked me to come instead of her, I’m Y/N L/N, it’s really nice to meet you, Elena spoke very nicely of you.” The man smiled at every one of them and shook their hands.

And nobody of the four didn’t know what adventure lies in front of them. 

[that-terrible-writer]

Everybody Knows

Back again after a long break. I will be getting more into writing as the creative juices are flowing slowly but more and more. I’m sorry to the others that it’s another update on this story. I just get more ideas with this one. You can help me by voting here and I will try and focus more on those stories that you want!

https://linkto.run/p/C5R9E76Q

I have been editing this one for almost 2 weeks. I’m hoping I’m not out of touch or that it is lackluster and is the weakest chapter. Look, it’s been a while and that’s a hit on me. This part is also shy of 70 words to make it 5k, so be in for the long run.

Also, thank you so much for all your sweet messages. They mean everything to me.

Ray Palmer x Reader

Part 6

Part 1 2 3 4 5

“This is so good 😍”

“please continue this.. omg I love it ❤❤❤”

“Just discovered your blog along with the "Everybody knows" story and I LOVED it! Really this is genuinely one of the best fic I’ve ever read so well written and so much angst!”

“I just love how this story is written and uhg, I cant 😍😭❤👌🏼”

Warning: Poor Ray.

Team Flash surrounded their control room, having been in a predicament with their latest problem: Savitar. Barry shook his head, growing more annoyed each second knowing that Savitar was still out still knowing that he wasn't able to beat him. Barry turned his head to look at his best friend, hoping for good news, "Any luck with creating a weapon against him?" Barry asked.

Cisco sighed, shaking his head, "We're down an engineer, so brainstorming has returned to the same old arguing I have with Wells." The team looked over to see Harry sitting, biting his thumb while he looked at the hallway entrance, "Dude, chill out. She's going to come back." Harry huffed, a sarcastic smirk tugging on the inner corner of his lip.

"Please, Ramon, I don't need your pity," Harry grumbled. He placed down his hand to push himself off the seat to join his team. "She's with her ex―whatever you want to call it―but whatever you call it, it's something to worry about." Harry was someone to avoid while you went with the Legends. His mood swings took a toll on Cisco, making it unbearable to work with while the others were out looking for possible clues. Being difficult solving equations with, throwing tools against the wall as he found some of your things lying around the lab; Harry's emotions were out of line, and he felt hopeless not being able to control himself.

He was on edge just thinking about you being alone with Palmer. His imagination went wild: you holding hands with Ray, changing it to a simple kiss but then it would finally lead Harry thinking you were doing more than the simple act of hand-holding.

The alarms were triggered, having the monitor light up with the Legends appearing on the screen proceeding down the long hallway of STAR Labs. Iris went to the computer to shut off the alarms, informing Barry and the others, "It's the Legends." Iris said with a breath of relief. Harry's ears perked up when hearing it was them. Knowing that you returned would set his mind at some ease, "Odd, Y/N isn't with them." Before Team Flash could see what Iris was looking at, they were greeted by the Legends, who stood in the entrance of the control room.

"Hey, we were just talking about you guys―" Barry's exchange of words were cut short by Ray's fist meeting his cheek. Barry stumbled a few steps back, hand to his cheek, looking surprised at the sudden action coming from Ray. Ray wasn't a man of violence. He was never one to initiate a fight, only to defend. Barry, quick with his speed, moved away from another punch by Ray, heading to the back of the room; a couple of yards away from the Atom.

"Whoa, Ray coming in with the punches," Cisco mocked. Cisco immediately regretted his comment when the other members of the Legends gave him servals glares. Cisco raised his hands in defeat, trying to lighten the mood with another remark, "Relaxed, it's not like anyone died or anything."

"You should shut up now," Rory grumbled, puffing out his chest while his hand regripped his gun on his holster. Cisco backed away to stand in the background while Ray continued to stare down at the beloved hero.

"Ray, what's your problem?" Barry asked. Barry noticed something in Palmer's hand, looking back at Ray, "Where's Y/N?"

"She's in med bay with Gideon," Sara clarified for Ray, "She's currently in a coma, and we don't know if she'll wake up or not." Harry bolted out the door hearing the news, racing over to join you. Ray took in a deep breath, shutting his eyes to calm himself down. Harry had a right to be there next to you. He was your boyfriend, not him―not in this timeline. Shutting his eyes just made him picture your face, moments that made him smile, moments that made his heart ached for you; he had to open them for if he continued to imagine your face, Ray wouldn't know if he would be able to hold back his tears.

Ray threw the pregnancy test in Barry's direction, having him take a look for himself. Barry's heart sank, instantly knowing what Ray was feeling. Barry's eyes shot straight back to Ray's, "Ray―I don't," Barry fumbled over his words. Nothing he would say would make this right. Iris, Wally, Cisco, and Caitlyn came over to see what Barry had in his hands, once they saw the test, they turned away. Their hearts ached for the Atom.

"You didn't think at all," Ray spat, his hands balling into a fist once more, "You only cared about what you wanted. You wanted your parents alive. You saw nothing wrong with changing the timeline, not once thinking about others and how it would affect on them!" Ray's voice shook the room, his team trying their best to stay strong for him but their feelings were coming up; they lost a teammate, a close friend, having no idea how to fix it.

"I went back though! I made sure everything was exactly how it went―" Barry tried to explain his actions; Ray Palmer wasn't having any of it.

"As a protector of time, you cannot touch what has already done! It's the simple butterfly effect, Allen! Everything may have been exact for you on that day you decided to change anything back; it's as little as Iris taking an extra step that day to change everything! You don't mess with time!"

Caitlyn made the mistake of trying to intervene the argument, "Ray if you calm down and let me have a look at Y/N; we can figure out how to wake her up."

Jackson couldn't help but laugh at Caitlyn's suggesting. He crossed his arms, switching his weight to his other leg, "Please, don't tell my man to calm down." Jackson's sharp tone towards Caitlyn took her by surprise. "You think you're the only scientist in this room? We have a ship from the damn future that doesn't even know how to wake her up. What makes you think you can?"

"Ray has every right to be angry," Nate defended his best friend, "He lost the love of his life and just learned he also lost his child too. There's nothing you can do to make it better, nothing you can say to make it right."

"Ms. Y/L/N's body is having an internal battle with itself. Trying to figure out which timeline is correct, which memories are the original; who the real Y/N is. If she ever wakes up is completely up to her, Gideon is trying her best with Ms. Y/L/N's current state, but until we get an update, there is not one thing any of us can do for her." Dr. Stein explained to Dr. Snow.

Ray's rage was reaching to another boiling point, the type of wrath where he didn't even want to exchange looks with Allen. He turned on his heel, pushing back his teammates to move past them, leaving the room to have some time to cool down. He wandered down the hallway, entering the defense room; seeing all the gadgets laid out, a board filled with failed ideas and tools untouched. A blue book on one of the tables caught Ray's attention, picking it up, seeing the lightly yellow-colored cat was a book he knew all too well.

"That's Y/N," Ray heard, turning to see Cisco entering the room. He pointed at the book which was in Ray's hand, "She was learning about it, hoping to have a better understanding so she could apply it towards any future weapons we had to create."

The Waverider was quiet for once. The Legends had just defeated Savage and were able to find a little time to relax before Rip found another mission. Ray was strolling through the hall, passing the engine room to hear you cursing to yourself. He took a few steps back, watching you stare up to a panel far out of your line of reach, "Fucking spaceship from the future. Doesn't have a goddamn ladder." You muttered.

"Everything ok, Y/N?" Ray called out, startling you. You turned to see the tall man walking into the room to look up to see cut wires hanging out of the wall. You became flustered, trying to compose yourself and not say anything dumb in front of Ray. You admired Ray's intelligence, wanting to have an actual conversation with him but you always felt intimidated. You looked back at your current situation.

"I have to solders those wires up there, but it's too high for me." You complained, wiping your forehead from the sweat you were building. Ray looked down at you, looking off to the side before he suggested, "I can hold you up while you worked on them."

Your eyebrows rose, having a smile appear across your face, "You serious? That would help me so much, Palmer!" You exclaimed. You went to clutch your soldering iron and googles. Ray watched you as you placed the goggles over your head to fit perfectly around your eyes. He noticed how much he was studying you: your lashes, the way your eyes moved, your smile, even the little creases that appeared around the corners of your mouth. When you turned to look at Ray, he had to shake himself out of thought, to not make it clear that he felt something for you.

Ray bent down, going between your legs to have your weight supported by his shoulders. He stood straight, hearing you laugh a little by his action; he had to regrip his hands on your calves to control his argue to tell you the five words he wanted to say. You began to solder the wires, paying close attention to your craft. While you worked quietly, Ray's attention went over to the bench to see a blue book resting, "Whose 'Introduction to Quantum Mechanics' is that?" Ray carelessly asked.

Your eyes widen at his question; your body jumped slightly causing you to miss the correct wire and created a spark. You wiggled, losing your balance, Ray tried to keep his balance with you and not having you fall or get injured by your hot iron. He let you down, allowing you to place down your dangerous tool. Ray watched you, finally figured it out, "That's your book?"

You took off your gloves, lifting your goggles, avoiding eye contact with Ray, "Uh―y-yeah," Your voice went high, showing your nerves, "Don't be too impressed, it's like reading it in Latin; I understand nothing."

"Why are you reading it then?" Ray pressed.

"To talk to you?" You honestly answered. Ray could feel the butterflies forming after you said that. Your eyes were finally looking at him, embarrassed on the whole encounter, Ray seeing a hint of pink on your cheeks; Ray tried his best to hide his excitement. "I feel guilty when we talk. I have this feeling you have to talk dumb to me because I don't understand what you're saying most of the time."

"I'm not talking dumb to you!" Ray quickly corrected you, a little too fast. You pressed your eyebrows together, shocked at his response. You were fiddling with your gloves to calm your nerves. You felt hesitant to admit to Ray what you felt. He got along with everyone on the team, everyone but you. He was able to carry conversations of science with Dr. Stein; he was able to even converse with Rip about time and space and to even talking to Rory about improving his weapon. When it came to you, you talked about the small things: books, music, dreams, right down to food. Ray would even try and talk about sports with you. You didn't know if it was because you two came from entirely different backgrounds. It made you question your brains, and you wanted to put some effort into the friendship.

"You're not?" Your voice went monotone, sticking out your hand in response as you didn't believe him.

"No," He swore to you, "I don't want to talk about science all the time. I like our talks." You noticed a trace of color rising to his cheeks. His body language had changed drastically; his hands were behind his back, his eye contact moved to his feet where he watched his heel move some side to side. "We talk about anything; it's a nice break. I feel like I can talk to you about everything."

You had to turn around, pretending to be wiping your goggles with your shirt. Ray's words had an effect on you that you weren't expecting. Your face felt warm, your fingers couldn't stop fidgeting, and you felt your heart in the back of your throat. Ray looked up to see your back towards him. He looked at the book once more, gripping on it tighter to build up the courage he needed, "I can make it easier for you to understand." Ray offered. You turned on your heels, cocking your head to the side, laughing a little.

"Ray, it's like teaching a fish how to jump. It's pointless." You brushed off. You walked past him to pick up your soldering iron to check if you had damaged it.

"It's not," Ray disputed, shaking the book lightly to grab your attention once more. His voice was still soft towards you, not raising it even though he differed with you. Your eyes flicked up to stare at him, "If you want to understand  this book, I can help you."

"Ray," You groaned, placing down your tool to rest your hands on your hip. You shrugged your shoulders while being baffled by his counter-argument, "Let's face it, I'm not the smartest person in the world. I barely graduated high school and what was my first job with that education? I became a mechanic because it was the only thing that would take my dumbass. You're sweet to offer, but it would be a waste of your time."

"How can you talk about yourself like that?" Ray responded. His tone shocked you. He was offended. When you stared at him, you could see the disappointment in his eyes while he stared at you, "I never thought of you as dumb. I honestly think you could learn this and apply it to the Waverider. You may not see it, Y/N, but you adapt well. You understand things quickly, and you utilize what you learn from Rip."

There was quietness between the two of you. You grew bashful, also embarrassed, turning away from Ray once more. Ray thought he had insulted you. He didn't like that you weren't acting like yourself. "It's not wrong of you to want to learn," Ray said softly. You bit your bottom lips, taking in a deep breath, spinning on your heel to look back at him.

"If I say yes, will you shut up?" You proposed. Ray pressed his lips together, turning into a smile as you finally admitted his help. You playfully pushed Ray, pulling down your goggles to your eyes, "Alright then, now that you confessed your eternal love of learning; you could be helpful and get me back up there to finish the repairs."

Ray snapped out of his memory, hearing Nate's voice calling out to him, "Ray, what up?" Nate questioned. Ray turned to Nate, displaying the book before him.

"Y/N was reading this in our timeline," Ray informed him. Cisco peeped over to Nate while Ray explained, "Y/N was trying to find a way to talk to me when we first joined the Legends. I offered to help her understand it."

"Wait," Cisco interrupted, shaking his hand towards Ray, "You're saying that your Y/N and Team Flash's Y/N had something in common?" Ray grew dumbfounded, pressing his eyebrows together to try and understand where Cisco was piecing together. Cisco attention switched from Ray to Nate then back to Ray, "You don't see it? If Y/N had something in common with her original self, then there may be other things in common with both timelines. That subconsciously she's was the same person even though her timeline changed."

Ray regripped the writing, his breath picked up, staring at Cisco more intensely, "How can we figure out what else she may have in common?" Ray pressed, taking a step closer to Cisco.

"Yeah, is her locker filled with photos? Books? Her diary?" Nate submitted. Cisco grew irritated by Heywood's suggestions, shaking them off.

"No. Y/N gave me a key to her place a while ago to take care of things whenever she went on vacation. We can go and have Ray take a look and see if there's anything else that Y/N had in common with her original self." Cisco explained.

"Let's go," Ray was quick to move forward with Cisco's plan. He was expecting Nate to interject. He turned to look at his best friend, who placed his hand on his shoulder.

"If it helps Y/N, let's go," Nate chimed.

The three arrived at your apartment, not alerting the others. Cisco didn't want one of them to talk them out of going: mostly Harry. Ray began to ruffle through your things, making sure he wasn't careless, he put the item back neatly.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Nate whined, picking up a vase to examine it.

"Anything." Cisco flatly said, "If something as simple as a book has a connection, anything can be one: movies, music, even a dish." Nate narrowed his eyes towards Cisco, "Yes, even a dish." Cisco insisted once more. Ray dug through your bookshelf, to see if you had any more books based on science; books that he went through with you.

"Hey, didn't you take Y/N on a date to go watch Beethoven play?" Nate questioned Ray. Ray directed his attention to Nate, who stood by your records collection, pulling out 'Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata' record. Ray walked over to Nate, Cisco trailing behind, to examine the piece of music. Ray took it in hands; his breath hitched in the back of his throat.

"Y/N always had weird taste in music. She will listen to anything. She would always give it a shot; when she works in the lab, she has to have classical music playing in the background preferably Beethoven." Cisco revealed.

"He's her favorite composer," Ray confessed, "She said that his music calmed her and helped her concentrate."

When Ray officially asked you out on a date, he knew where to take you and more importantly: when. You couldn't help but smile and laugh, having Ray's hands cover your eyes. "Ray, this isn't normal!" You giggled, "Just tell me where we're going already!" Ray bent down to get close to your ear, causing your heart to jump. You felt your heart beat against your chest, biting your lower lip to control your emotions, you listened to Ray carefully.

For your first date, Ray gifted you with a beautiful dress to fit perfectly in the 1800's. The dress hugged around under the bust, flowy and comfortable to move in. You were quite pleased that Ray didn't choose an era and area where corsets weren't fashionable.

"Just a little further," He whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear. You stopped moving, finally having the light return to your eyes while Ray removed his hands from your face. You stood in front of a theatre, having people around you excited to go in and there was a name that caught your attention that was on everyone's lips around you.

You spun around, your eyes lighting up, grabbing ahold of Ray's tux, "Beethoven?" You beamed, "You're taking me to see Beethoven play?" Ray nodded, he enjoyed watching your reaction; the reaction he hoped to get from you. He would walk by wherever you were working on the ship and would always hear classical music playing. After getting help from Gideon to figure out who it was that you regularly played; that's when he had the perfect date brew.

Ray bent his arm, leaning down a little to have you wrap your hands around it while the two of you went in to enjoy a night of soothing music.

That entire night, Ray didn't pay attention to the beloved composer. Ray's eyes were glued onto you, watching your excitement throughout the night. When Beethoven's fingers picked up the pace during the Moonlight Sonata, he felt you squeeze his arm in excitement. Your smile never left your face. You beamed at Ray, clutching his arm a little bit more. He knew you perfectly. He did his research and wanted to make the night perfect. You deserved a night dedicated to you, and your heart felt full.

When you were getting ready for the date, you felt uneasy. Still not buying in with Ray's whole soulmates ordeal. When you stared into his eyes that night, your heart filled with love for him at that moment. It must have been what Ray felt for you when he first knew you were the one and it was.

After the concert, you were walking back to the ship still amped on the music, "Did you watch his fingers on Moonlight? It was unbelievable!" You shouted, spinning in the alley. Your smile increased when your eyes landed back onto Ray, "I don't know how any first date is going to beat yours." You complimented him.

Ray's heart sank. You were already thinking about future first dates. With other people that weren't him. Did he do something wrong? Was he reading everything wrong? You couldn't help but chuckle. You saw how Ray was calculating the night and your exchange of words. You watched him overthink and worrying, finding it amusing. You grabbed his hand, stopping in the middle of the street. You pulled your body close to his, chest to chest while staring up at him, "You should see the look on your face right now." You quipped. Your smile was growing wider.

"What?" Ray gulped, confused. You looked down at his hands, both in your, interlacing your fingers with his.

"I don't want any more first dates." You confessed, pressing your lips closed, "I want to give this a shot, Palmer. Your whole theory on soulmates, I want to see if you're right on this. If you're not, I mean this discredits you as a scientist. I'll make sure they take all your PhDs―"

Ray let go of your hands, only to place both of his on your cheeks to lay a kiss on your lips. The kisses became passionate each ending with a smile. One after another, each one had that spark. Ray pulled away, resting his forehead on yours, finally returning a smile to you, "Good. I don't want anyone else." He declared, returning his lips to yours.

Cisco was slapping Ray's chest, due to his excitement about his hypothesis, "This is awesome! There must be other things that have a connection to both timelines!" Cisco was more than pumped to go through your things. Ray placed the record near the door while continuing to go through your apartment.

"What are you getting out of this, Cisco?" Nate asked. Cisco stopped rifling through the drawers to bring his attention to the steel man, "If Y/N comes back to the Legends, you lose an engineer."

Cisco glanced over at Ray, who didn't even bother to turn his attention to the two talking, "Because if I were in Ray's shoes, I would do anything to bring back the one that I love." Cisco confessed, continuing his search for clues. "Now, we need to bring that record with us because sometimes coma patients hear a familiar sound can help bring them out of that state. Which version of Y/N we get out of that, it's a gamble."

Ray saw a binder on the lower shelf, pulling it out, the cover decorated with a picture of Team Flash. On the cover had a photo of everyone gathered by the controls: Joe, Cisco, Caitlyn, Barry, Iris, Harry and you. Your arms around Harry's waist, smiling brightly into the camera while Harry's hand pulled you close by gripping your shoulder. Ray's thumb brushed over your image before he placed the binder back into the shelf. It wasn't as soft as Ray imagined. The binder hit the back of the bookcase, making a loud noise that alerted the two.

"Found something, Ray?" Nate questioned. Ray remained silent, pushing on his legs to stand himself upright. Ray walked away from his discovery to look somewhere else in your apartment. Nate observed Ray entering another room before digging at the bookcase. Nate pulled out the same binder to see the image that upset Palmer. Nate took the time to flip through the binder, finding out it was a scrapbook; with newspaper clippings about the Flash, inventions that you worked on with Cisco, candid photos of everyone working.

"Y/N was into scrapbooking," Cisco informed the Legend. "She wanted to document everything that would happen with us. Telling us it's for the future, to look back at all the fun times we had."

Ray eavesdropped in on Cisco's and Nate's conversation while he was in your bedroom, shutting his eyes to fight the tears that wanted to fall.

"You finished another book?" Ray asked you, amazed, watching you work on your new scrapbook in bed. You glued a photo into the book, pressing down for it to hug the paper while trying to figure out which stickers would work best for it.

"When you travel to so many places of time, it takes up a lot of books," You smiled, looking up at Ray. You sat in bed with him, leaning onto his arm while he was working on some equations to upgrade the Atom suit. "I want to remember everything. Even though we're fighting evil most of the time, I seriously feel like it's always Darhk, I want to remember one good thing from the mission at least."

"They're mostly photos of us in our outfits," Ray caught, a smile spreading on his lips.

"That's my one good thing," You declared. You got red-faced, turning back to your side project. You felt your chin pulled, having your attention return back to Ray's. Ray gave you a loving kiss, lowering you entirely on the bed. He picked up your book to place it on the nightstand while his notes fell off the bed. Making sure you knew that he felt the same way.

Ray snapped out of it, having Heywood yelling at him. "Ray!" Nate shouted, slapping Ray on the arm once more. Ray looked over his shoulder to make contact, "We're heading back. Get the record." Nate reported. Ray was walking out of the room until Nate grabbed his arm. "I saw the photo."

"And?" Ray weakly let out. Nate took in a deep breath, his grip relaxing on Ray.

"Either outcome that happens, I need to know you're going to be ok." Nate concernedly said.

"What if I said that I wouldn't be." Ray honestly answered, "What if she goes back to Team Flash, back to Wells, what if I'm not so certain that I'll be alright?"

"Because she's happy," Nate brutally stated. Ray shook his arm away, leaving the bedroom but Nate was quick to follow. Ray shook his head, not wanting to hear those words, "Either way, Y/N is happy. She was happy being a Legend, but it seems like she's happy being on Team Flash. Ray, I'm sorry. I know this isn't what you want to hear―"

"Then why say it?" Ray shouted, turning to look at Nate. Ray's face was red in anger but what shocked Nate was finally seeing the tears fall. "If you knew this isn't what I wanted to hear, then why say it?"

"Because you need to be ready if she goes back to Team Flash!" Nate yelled, "We all want her back, not just you! She was our friend, our teammate! I see how happy she is with Team Flash! If she wasn't then yeah, by all means, let's talk her into joining us but she's happy, and I'm glad that she is." Ray rubbed his tears away, forcefully pulling the record off the couch to head over to Cisco.

Cisco didn't bother to speak. He breached back to the med bay, having the Legends walk in before him. Both teams filled the med bay. Ray gazed over to see Harry by your side, his hand in yours while you slept. "Where have you been?" Sara sought, crossing her arms while she looked at her teammates. Ray waved the recorded in her face.

"We found something Y/N has in common with both timelines." Ray flatly said.

"That's wonderful!" Martin celebrated, "Playing something familiar to both sides of Y/N can give us a better chance of waking her up." Ray shoved the record on to Dr. Stein's chest, shoving his way out of the room.

"Don't," Nate directed his team, shaking his head. Everyone's eyes laid on him and Cisco, Nate reaffirmed, "Just don't." The room fell in silence until Dr. Stein placed the needle on the record to play 'Moonlight Sonata'. The music filled the room, trailing into the halls of the Waverider softly; Ray sat on the cold floors of the ship, his back pressed to the wall, finally letting his pain out. He feared about you, not only about your health but feeling you slipping through his fingers and his future.

Tagged: @mad-doctor-mew @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @inspiredbynewt @writing-multifandom @thecraziestcrayon @x-goddess-of-nature-x  @saysay125 @writing-multifandom @treblebeth @sczxn @barry-singer  @mangasia @supernatural-is-fun @kenzie-cold-greenkale @spunky-89 @thehakunamatara @cassiopeia-barrow @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @book-loving--anime-chick @kenzie-cold-greenkale

[clove-teasdale]

eureka

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A/N: challenge #3. YALL, THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I’M READY. Anyhow. this is a late rp and fic I should’ve done ages ago (I’M SORRY GRACE, SHUSH). I’m using it as my challenge cause deadline is near. Another rp with a royal will come after this tho. This has detective clove and conspiracies(?) I hope you like it <3 some stuff is revealed more clearly and hopefully the ending isn’t bad. forgive typos and lengh (around 4k smh). ft. @brooks-schreave  , some guards and the mysterious call I’d mentioned on my last fic. This takes place before the first official dates with nate and that rp from the brooks pov.

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

“Lady Clove?” Officer Rogers’ voice asked from the other side of my door after a knock.

I closed my magazine and placed it on the desk. “You can come in.”

The young officer did so quickly, bowing more than he should’ve. He was the awkward out of the pair that sometimes patrolled our hall. “Young and inexperienced,” Barnes had explained the day I’d asked one of them to bring me lunch. 

It had been the day of the Report when the maids were too busy with my clothes and hair and shoes to get me the lunch I’d skipped, earning a scolding from Chris, the eldest of the trio. Rogers had almost immediately scurried to do the favor I’d asked until Barnes had sighed and stopped him, remembering him he was to tell a servant and then return to the post instead of bringing it himself. The blonde had been so visibly flustered by the reminder it was almost comical. 

Barnes had only shaken his head as he watched him go. He had one of those misleading faces, not seeming but a few years older than Rogers, but clearly older by the way he carried himself and acted. Keen and observant--not someone that could do the task I’d asked Rogers without suspicion. Rogers was rash, too eager to prove himself to question the logic behind a request.

“Did you get it?” I asked, walking over to him as he took a few magazines out of the shopping bag.

“Yes...may I ask why these ones in particular?”

Okay, he had some curiosity after all, but at least no skepticism. “It’s interesting to see what other people think of the Selection. I never thought I’d read about it while participating in it, so it’s smart to be informed on how the outside perceives us”

“Ah,” he seemed to understand, or at least buy my excuse. “You only get access to Illéa Illustrated in the palace.”

I nodded, taking a look at the covers of the set he’d handed me. “Usually, that’s the norm, yes.” Because Illéa Illustrated was a supporter of the royal family. That’s why they got to cover the most crucial information and were granted the most interviews. Sure, they let us get some random gossip magazines as well, but those were the harmless ones that just had fun at making us look bad--or good--and creating fun content for people to read.

The titles I’d asked Rogers to get were all affiliated to the monarchies’ strongest critics. The ones that didn’t get big outlets like newspapers...or that’s what I could recall Dad saying. It was his job to be informed about that type of thing and though he always considered them to be annoying, they were never a concern. Their general pettiness and unprofessionalism posed no threat. I knew they were always under his hidden radar though, just in case they ever stumbled upon a problematic topic.

At the moment, their opinion was what I wanted. Any type of ridiculous reaching. They wouldn’t say something big or the whole country would already be talking about it whether they were unknown writers before or not, but there could be something. After the call earlier that week, I’d take whatever I could take.

“Hey, Daisy,” my father greeted as the call began. Sometimes he liked calling me random flowers as an inside joke to me being named after a plant, but not any ever so popular flower.

“Gonna tell me how much you miss me?” I asked, leaning on a wall. I was kidding, of course. We never called each other for that sort of stuff. Mom would be the one to do that, but he kept the charade going.

“Yeah, sending all the kisses to my favorite daughter.”

“I’m your only daughter.”

“See? You don’t even have to doubt I’m being serious because there’s no way you’re not the favorite.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing very well he was probably reading over paperwork as he made ridiculous remarks to me on the phone. I felt a smile tug at my lips, but it wavered as Nate’s confession a few days ago came to mind. His lie about me not wanting to see them anymore.

Pressing my lips together, I twirled my finger around the cord of the phone. A weak attempt to stop myself from snapping at him. “So what’s up?”

“Cutting it to the chase, good,” I could hear the amusement in his voice and I wished I could share it as usual. “I’m going to the palace soon. I thought I’d give you a heads up. Make some time for me in your heavy schedule. I know you’re an important Lady now.”

Part of me wanted to keep the sarcasm going, but the other half was dreading the news. Would I be able to carry a full conversation without bringing his lie up? If I decided on boarding the topic on purpose, how bad would it be? I wasn’t sure I wanted to open that can of worms. We didn’t talk about those years now. Only mom ever brought them up in arguments with him. 

“Clove?”

I realized then I’d been quiet for a moment. “Yeah, sorry, I thought I saw a guard gesturing at me,” I lied, “he was just waving a fly away.”

He scoffed a laugh, and I gulped when a thought hit me. “What’s got you coming to the palace this time?”

“Oh, you know how work is.”

“Does Mr. Revis have a new stupid plan in progress?” That got him to chuckle. “No, no dumb projects to debunk with the others this time. Just meeting up with Radcliffe.”

The private secretary of the King? “Did something happen?”

“No, we’re conducting a meeting, that’s all. General discussion on an ongoing thing, nothing too important.” He brushed it aside and all my thoughts were suddenly on high alert.

“Only the two of you?” A pause, nothing but a second or two, but I clenched my fist around the cord as I waited.  

“There might be a couple other advisers actually, but it won’t be until Thursday. Will you make some time for your old man?”

“Sure, I’ll check my schedule. I wasn’t aware you had a project with him though.”

He knew I was curious. When I was younger I always said I wanted nothing to do with politics like him, but I liked knowing about it. Dad always said I was being nosy, but he caved in, slipping in a detail or two. Thankfully, this time wasn’t different.

“Oh, well, actually it’s about you girls. You’ll have to learn to deal with more than just etiquette and glamour, you know?” A voice interrupted on his side, very likely Tony, his assistant. “I’ll take it in a moment,” he replied to him, then back at me he added, “Hey, gotta go Tulip, but I’ll see you later in the week, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll see you then. Tell mom I say hello.”

“I will.”

We said our goodbyes and hung up, so I was left alone, frowning at the phone. What he said had made sense in a way, it was expected, but it made no sense for him not to simply say that from the beginning. It wasn’t normal for him to bother being secretive with me.

Once back on my room, I looked out the window that revealed another sunny day in Angeles. My gaze wandered off to the closet where I kept a bow with some of the magazines Rogers had bought for me and a couple old ones from the library; the only sources I’d had to analyze so far in my strange research.

We’re conducting a meeting, the words echoed in my head. If there was something I was good at it was coming up with stuff on the spot, half the time no one noticed and I’d gotten that ability from Dad.

Why did he pause? Hesitation.

I’d been too restless and needed a distraction, so trying to make friends as I’d told Wilson I would, I went to one of the rooms across the hall. Eloise’s room. We’d talked a few times during breakfast the past days, starting with the food and ending up on whatever topic came to mind after some random story or the other.

She had an easy going personality, and after a not-so-quick game of chess with elaborate rules, I realized she wasn’t too bad at guessing games. I was right about us maybe being friends eventually, the conversation going pretty well after the game. It did begin to die down after a while though and another idea formed in my head.

I’d been considering how to get to the third floor, the dreaded Thursday dawning on me as I figured my plan to spy on that meeting somehow. Besides, lying my way past the guards--which I’d learned would be Barnes and Rogers--I had not much of a plan. In theory, I could pull it off, but…

I looked back at Eloise. “How would you feel about staging at fall?”

Eloise wasn’t one to pry, but I still gave her a decent excuse the next day as to why I was trying to get to the third floor, mentioning it was a surprise for my dad visiting.

“Well, that’s a lot better than what I was imagining,” she admitted.

Right. Better.

Once she’d done her part and the wonder duo was focused on helping her out from her fall, I sneaked up the stairs. I’d have to give the girl credit for being so on board with this later.

The hallways in the third floor seemed both familiar and foreign, but once I managed to remember where my dad’s office was, it only took a couple more minutes to find Radcliffe's. I made sure to keep my steps silent, my hands already sweating a bit by the time I reached the door, hoping to catch some of the conversation inside. 

I was practically in front of it when arms were wrapped around me from behind, my first instinct to yell. A hand was over my mouth before I had a chance to do so, however, and the arms were already lifting me slightly to haul me back.

Oh, God, what now, think, think, think... I squirmed, trying to free myself, trying to push back the second instinct: to panic. Hard grip, quite a couple of inches taller, very likely stronger and a man, my thoughts scurried, but as laughter erupted from inside the meeting room and the doorknob twitched, they deviated. They had the door locked?

As I registered that in my head, the assailant took advantage of my distraction and dragged me behind a wall, out of sight as the door opened. I focused back on the more important matter and freed one of my arms enough to elbow his side. He groaned in pain and the arms released me. I spun around ready to punch whoever it was but stopped as soon as I recognized the freckled face in front of me. You moron, my fist fell beside me. “Brooks?” I would’ve yelled it if it weren’t because we were hiding.

He shushed me anyway, eyes scanning the area. Not a second passed before he reached for my hand and dragged me down the hall. “Follow me.”

That’s not how following works. Wiggling my hand out of his grip, I continued the argument in hushed tones. “Do you want me to have a heart attack? Next time you do that I won’t aim for a rib.” Seriously, what is wrong with him, for the love of-- His hand went to the area I’d elbowed. “My bad for helping you not get caught.” I averted my gaze from his hand to push away the guilt of hurting him. It wasn’t like my reaction had been uncalled for. “I had it under control. If someone saw me I could say I was looking for my dad. He was in there.” I pointed back at the hall, but paused, realizing he was there. “Wait, hold on, how did you know I was sneaking around? What are you even doing up here?” “What were you doing there?” “I asked first.” “Promise not to tell?” There was clearly something going on. I narrowed my eyes before taking a subtle look around myself. Shifting, I placed a hand on my hip. “Go ahead.” He took my hand again for some reason, giving me no chance to glare at him before dragging me to the staircase. Barnes and Rogers were back on their posts by the time we reached the bottom, at first not giving us much of a glance. 

When I looked over my shoulder, however, I was briefly met with Barnes’ scowl and Rogers’ bewilderment. I caught a glimpse of the blonde one wiping his head to look back at the stairs in confusion before we turned down a corner.

Brooks knew exactly what shelf he wanted to show me and immediately took a journal from it. “Look at this.”

I was annoyed by his lack of an explanation as we rushed here, but took the journal anyway to flip through it. I frowned as soon as I opened the middle of it and noticed it was more of a book. Margins were filled with annotations next to the simple text, the word “Selection” popping up pretty quickly on the Times New Roman font. 

It was about the Selection, but the cover didn’t indicate it. It didn’t even seem like a book until you opened it. I’d scouted the library for days now and there was nothing but magazines regarding the Selection. I lifted my eyes back to the prince in surprise; then suspicion as I noticed his serious gaze. We couldn’t possibly be looking into the same stuff, yet… I tried figuring out the annotations before making any questions.

Whoever had held that pen, deserved never to hold one again. It was worse writing than mine in a rush. “The Selection will be a raffle,” the text read, underlined to lead to that godawful penmanship. My eyes widened a minute later as I managed to deincript one of the sentences.

No puede ser realmente al azar.

“It’s a fixed raffle?” “What?” Brooks snatched the journal back, “You can read this?” I glared before taking it from him again. “Yes, I can. It’s horrible handwriting, but I know my Spanish when I see it.” I frowned at the sloppy letters, strung together more than they should be. “Or mostly…”

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky laugh. It was like watching a mathematician figure out the solution to his equations had been in front of him all along. “Do you know what this means?” I gave no reaction, trying to figure out more sentences as I gulped. I understood how he felt. I felt the ‘eureka’ tugging at me, but I couldn’t settle for it. I’d spent the past weeks thinking maybe all of my ridiculous thoughts were a product of my boredom and know I had something tangible.

I resorted to sarcasm as I focused on more annotations and replied, “That he was a Hispanic doctor?” “Clove, think. I know you can.” “I was joking.” I frowned, flipping through the journal once more. “It means bad news.” “Why were you outside the meeting room?” I ignored him, thoughts spiraling down a path I didn’t like. Could it all be true? Had my lousy math actually led me to something? Did dad know? There was no way he didn’t.  “Clove!” “What!” I yelled, throwing library rules out the window as I shot him an angry glare.

“Why. Were. You. There.” Pursing my lips, I looked away and rubbed my forehead. 

Dad knows, who are you trying to fool? He would have to know. Lies aren’t new to him. He’s cheated on mom, now the country, not that big a difference, is it? I clenched my jaw at the thoughts. You were there because you were suspicious of him. Why else would you have gone? You heard his hesitation. He knows. You know.

Before I could stop myself I was answering in a ramble. Mentioning how weird dad had been, the ‘crazy odds’ Eloise had mentioned, the magazines, the stupid math and percentages. The order girls had been eliminated in the past and the high castes increasing.

“Hey, hey,” his hands were suddenly on my shoulders and that stopped me, my eyes landing on his hands. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

I gave him a warning look and he took his hands away. I could take a guess at what he was thinking. “It’s a terrible idea.” “But you can read this?” His excitement was clear on a smile. 

I looked at the ceiling with a sigh. “Kind of I guess. With some more time...” He didn’t let me finish, pulling me to him. I blinked in his arms, too stunned to react. Brooks was hugging me. “What-”

“Bless you. Follow me.” He let go and dragged me out of the library. I snapped out of my confusion midway in the hallway.

“Slow down, I’m not a rag doll.” “Quit whining, Teasdale.”

I gave him a cold stare once we arrived at his door. He pretended not to notice and pulled me inside, closing the door and then locking it. I raised an eyebrow.

“Someone else would find that creepy just so you know.” He gave me an exasperated look, slowly reaching for the doorknob again and unlocking it as if proving a point. “There. Shut up for two seconds now.”

Going over to some drawers and rummaging through them, he told me to come. I rolled my eyes but did as he asked when he added a “please.” Then, pulling out a chair for me at the table in his room, he opened the journal. “I've been taking notes on different things I find out about the Selection. Past conspiracies, ex-selected, drama, etc. I'm looking for patterns.”

I set my annoyance aside and sat down, intrigued by what he could’ve found himself. I’d never seen him excited like that. “Do you have anything?” He showed me his notes.“I've done the math, and the numbers of relevant girls in each selection has risen every time.” “It was 48% on your mother’s.” “And 51% for Nate's.” He had the same numbers as me. 

I clenched my jaw and stood up. “I need to talk to my dad.”

Reaching for my hand, he urged me to sit down. “Clove, you can't do that. Do you know what could happen?” “I don't know, but the pile of things he has to explain can't seem to stop growing.” “Do you know nothing about politics? Take it from an inside outsider, you don't want them knowing what you know.” I was aware of that, but disappointment and anger wrestled to take over and make me go back up there, guards or not, to yell at my dad for answers, demand he explain himself. Maybe even hoping he didn’t know and he’d help me uncover the truth. It would be a stupid move, however.

Silence settled in the room as my shoulders slumped. Brooks said nothing, letting it stretch for a minute or so, probably having his own thoughts to go over. Eventually, he added, “Hey, I know we're not actually the best of friends... but I could really use your help.” And I could use it too. Earlier that day, I hadn’t been sure I’d get anywhere with my little research, I just couldn’t bring myself to drop it either. Now I had another piece to the puzzle. I had a possible confirmation. Possible proof all because of...Brooks. 

Neither of us would get answers alone and I needed them, so I met his gaze, letting determination overshadow everything else in my mind. “I’m in.”

“Way to go, Teasdale,” he grinned, hand raised to offer a high five. I stared at it for a moment, thrown off.

“Are you okay?” He slowly let it fall back down. “Uh, yeah... Why?” “Well... you're being.. nice. I'm trying to determine if this is one of those ‘one in a lifetime’ moments because you need me, or if Quinn was right.” He raised both eyebrows, asking what his older sister had mentioned of him and I explained that she seemed to believe he was actually trying to be nice but I coulnd’t see it. 

Something like shame crossed his eyes as he looked down, playing around with a set of pens on his desk. “I-I've always been nice.”  

I leaned on the table with my elbows. “Yeah, that hasn't become any more believable than the last time you said it.” “I hope you're enjoying your seat,” he propmted, giving a flat look I was quick to return.

“What a gentleman.” “Just for you,” he almost cooed, tapping my nose with his finger. It took me a second to react and wrinkle my nose.

“Don't make me regret my decision. I could take the journal and work alone.” “Not gonna happen. Speaking of you taking the journal, I want you to try and figure out what the writing in the margin says.” “I’ll try to work on it.” I reached for the journal, examining the margins with old penmanship. “The ink is kinda smudged on some parts but I’ll figure it out.” “Thanks for doing this. I owe you.” “I’ll keep that in mind... Neither of us is telling anyone about this, right?” “Definitely not. Not until it gets far enough.” I stood up, taking a deep breath. “Alright. It’s an agreement.” Unsure of how to end the strange encounter I decided to go for something formal, extending my hand for him to shake. He reached for it slowly, the same hesitation I’d had at his suggestion of a high five. Or so it was until he opened his mouth again. “We've made so much contact in such a short span of time.” “You just had to make it weird, didn’t you?” “That? That's not weird. This?” he held my hand and pulled me close. Close enough to share the same breathing space. “This is weird.” My eyes could only widen in surprise before I pushed him off his chair with the same hand he’d pulled me with. A sound resembling a pterodactyl shriek escaped his lips as he fell back.

“AND YOU SAY I'M MEAN?” he screamed, sitting up on the floor. I snorted a laugh, but then cleared my throat. “Serves you right.” “Abuse is wrong.” I scoffed. “Invading personal space is wrong.”

He scoffed too. “Yep, still dramatic.” “Fine,” I hugged the journal to my chest, “I might be keeping this for myself then if I'm so dramatic.” He gestured to me. “That's just proving my point.” I said nothing and turned to the door, but as I did someone on the other side opened it, poking a head inside. Quinn. Dang, I should’ve let him lock it.

“Well, then...” Quinn shut the door quickly, “I'm going to go.”

“Wait up, I’m leaving as well!” I called out. “I'm feeling the love,” Brooks mumbled, still from his spot on the ground. I gave him a fake smile, like the one he'd given me the first morning in breakfast. “The floor loves you too.”

[thesportssoundoff]

“Main card a dime, prelims are fine”The UFC On FOX Preview

Joey

December 10th

Fights: 12

Debuts: 2 (Pietro Menga, Julian Marquez)

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations: 6 (Justin Scoggins OUT, Pietro Menga IN vs Tim Elliott/Antonio Rogerio Noguiera OUT, Jan Blachowicz IN vs Jared Cannonier/Sultian Aliev vs Nordine Taleb cancelled due to Aliev injury/Danny Roberts vs Sheldon Wescott cancelled due to Westcott injury; Roberts vs Taleb put together in its place, Vitor Miranda OUT, Darren Stewart IN vs Julian Marquez)

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC):  10 (Robbie Lawler, Rafael Dos Anjos, Mike Perry, Glover Teixeira, Misha Cirkunov, Ricardo Lamas, Santiago Ponzinibbio,Jan Blachowicz, Tim Elliott, Erick Silva)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC:  3 (Jordan Mein, Oluwale Bamgbose, Darren Stewart)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC:  5 (Rafael Dos Anjos, Santiago Ponzinibbio, Ricardo Lamas, Mike Perry, Chad Laprise)

Stat Monitor for 2017:

Debuting Fighters (Current number: 44-38)- Pietro Menga, Julian Marquez

Short Notice Fighters (Current number: 24-36-1)- Pietro Menga, Darren Stewart, Jan Blachowicz, Josh Emmett

Second Fight (Current number: 32-39)- Galore Bofando

Cage Corrosion (18-15-1)- John Makdessi

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- #1 contender fights are basically suggestions. When I was studying to be a paralegal, they had an entire course (or what felt like it) on the term "reasonable expectations." #1 contender fights bend, twist and split the concept of a reasonable expectation. In boxing or kickboxing or MMA, the concept of the #1 contender is flexible since there's nothing binding to them. You can win an interim title and then never fight the champion OR you could win a #1 contender fight, become the mandatory challenger and then never get the fight. Or you could win the title fight and then move on with your life, we're talking about a reasonable expectation. Should the winner of this fight between RDA and Lawler have a reasonable expectation of a title show? Well.....

We can begin by setting the stage a bit. Who IS here and who ISN'T here as it pertains to the champion. Scratch our GSP and Nate Diaz, neither guy is getting this fight. Tyron Woodley is out for the foreseeable future with a shoulder injury. Before that point, Woodley bleeted about money fights and not thinking either fight did anything for him or so on so forth until death do us part. For one half of the equation, I can see the argument. Woodley beat Lawler and left no doubt----so hey! It might be fair to say "Look I beat Lawler and since then he's beaten two blown up 155ers (even if RDA is legit at 170 lbs), what else can I do?" It's not a knock to say that. It may be rude and unfair---but it's also kinda factual, am I right? Woodley doesn't GET anything from that fight. What's more, it could be genuinely argued that from a business standpoint, that fight is a hard sell unless Lawler KOs RDA in a fashion by which nobody expects.

For RDA though, it's a different situation. Dos Anjos is a fresh face at 170 lbs. He is a former champion at a different weight class. A win over Lawler establishes him as a genuine force at 170 lbs and RDA fights frequently (June to September to December) so it's not like Woodley would be in for a long wait. Dos Anjos would be beyond credible as a challenger and he'd be new to the picture. Also it's not RDA's fault that Woodley isn't a draw. One of the things that the UFC/MMA has stolen from its TRUE business model; the art of pro wrestling is that the heat is always on the B Side for not upping the numbers. When a Hogan feud didn't work or draw, the onus turned to whoever he was facing. When Mr. Perfect vs Hulk Hogan did poorly, they didn't blame Hogan (and why would they I suppose?) and it fell on Perfect. The Miz was punished for Rock/Cena vs Miz/R-Truth not doing big numbers. It's easiest to blame the #2 guy because why not? It's not RDA's problem that Woodley can't draw but if he wins, he's earned it. Why wouldn't he be the #1 contender? Woodley denying RDA would be foolish and incomprehensibly bad when he should be trying to get some positive publicity.

Then there are the three outsiders who could steal the title shot. Kamaru Usman is one, Colby Covington is another and Darren Till is the last. Usman PROBABLY is far off from a title fight for various reasons; some his fault and some not his fault. Darren Till would be an interesting story but one win over Cerrone probably isn't enough. Colby Covington, unfortunately, is the winner of this fights biggest threat. He has the big name win over Maia and he built an angle for himself, as tawdry as it may be. Covington's attitude attracts attention and while it's primarily the wrong kind, this is the fight business and not the "Do the right thing" business. Even so it feels like Usman vs Covington is in the works so why would Covington jump the line at this point? Wonderboy vs Woodley III needs to be a total non-starter.

So what, pray tell, is our reasonable expectation here as it pertains to a title fight for the winner? I'm not betting on it. Woodley is far, far, far away from being healthy and I can totally see him throwing a stink at whoever the winner is. As much as people might not wanna hear this, it's almost as likely that the UFC strikes while the iron is hot and rolls with Covington as it is that the winner of this fight gets a title shot. What's more, given that the UFC needs to fill up February soon-ish, why would they rush to conclusions anyways when you could probably get Lawler or RDA to fight again soon anyways?

2- Keep a VERY close eye on Lawler in rounds 2-5. Robbie's reputation in five round fights can be summed up as such; when it's going well, he's engaged for twenty five minutes with the occasional pauses in action. When he's just not firing, rounds 2, 3 and 4 are rounds where he seems incapable of turning up the jets and going.

Against Hendricks 1 and Rory-- He was always in the fight, laughing during exchanges and being a generally all around wild human being.

Against Condit, Hendricks 2 and Matt Brown-  He came out fast and firing early----and then slowed. Now he did score a big knockdown in the second round vs Condit so in that fight it was more about him just being mentally asleep for the middle portion of the fight. Now 5th round Lawler is a thing because he takes those rounds off BUT rallying vs a tremendously durable guy in RDA might be a tough ask.

3- I hope RDA understands that Lawler is hard to take down and even harder to keep down so his usual technical leg kicks into the clinch aren't going to work this time.

4- Dana White talked about Frankie Edgar as the #1 contender and he left the door open that Holloway COULD fight before Edgar is ready to fight again. That combined with Ricardo Lamas staying n the co-main spot despite a more attractive fight in Ponz-Perry, leads me to believe that there's a slight chance Lamas could sneak his way into a title fight with Holloway soon.

5- Does the fact that Ricardo Lamas' last three wins all lost their next fight make it harder to buy into him as a top 5 featherweight?*

So @theanticool corrected me and pointed out that Diego Sanchez beat Jim Miller (which I forgot about) and Oliveira beat Will Brooks. I’ll leave this here because I like laughing at my dumbness but will instead rephrase point five: Does the fact that Lamas’ top wins recently have all basically flamed out make it harder to make the argument that he’s a top 5 featherweight?

6- So much of what makes Mike Perry work is his aggressive approach backed by his one hitter quitter-esque power and sterling chin. Perry lives to create 50/50 exchanges where he believes his one will trump your two or three. He isn't entirely out of his element on the ground but it's clear what his gameplan is. His secret weapon are knees, be it in the clinch or out of the plum set up. Mike Perry is not the walking gimmick some people believe he is---but Santiago Ponzinibbio is one of those fighters who is always different in his approach going into each fight. Against Gunnar Nelson, he had a good idea how to attack Nelson even if it meant eating fire on the way in. Against guys Nordine Taleb and Zack Cummings, Ponz just outworked them with pressure, volume, versatility and power. Ponzinibbio can still be hurt by strikes and he isn't always the most intelligent survivor (the two times I remember him being most hurt, he just seemed to throw caution to the wind and fire back despite having no base of support on the feet) BUT he's one of those guys who doesn't need much to get going on offense. His footwork, movement and ability to turn the pressure on and off at a moment's notice makes him a serious threat for Perry who has struggled with those kinds of guys in the past. If this gets into a firefight in the pocket though, I think we'll ALL be winners.

7- So what do we make of Misha Cirkunov? Cirkunov is 4-1 in the UFC and he just turned 30 in a division devoid of youth. He is a prized commodity for sure and his last fight went by so quickly that it's hard to even know what went wrong. It seems everyone not named OSP falls victim to the Volkan Oezdemir dim mak. At the same time, Misha Cirkunov has one win over someone still in the UFC and he's so rigid and stiff on the feet that it's fair to wonder just how high is upside really is. He and Glover Teix is a great match up that'll test what Glover has left and whether Misha can beat a top 10 LHW. This division really needs Misha Cirkunov to be everything people think he can be.

8- Speaking of LHWs, Jared Cannonier gets a chance (again) to join the big boy lunch table when he draws Jan Blachowicz as the prelim fight headliner. Cannonier since dropping to 205 lbs has gone a tidy 2-1 with  the loss being a fight where Glover Teixeira simply had too much for him in the grappling department despite Cannonier occasionally landing hard shots on the feet. Cannonier was expected to get a big name in Antonio Rogerio Noguiera but instead draws a tougher test in Jan Blachowicz. Jan's coming off his first UFC win in about 9 years and 28 fights but he showcased a lot of the stuff that made him such a highly regarded LHW to begin with. It's worth pointing out that Blachowicz has only lost to ranked opposition (Gus, Manuwa and Cummins) so if Cannonier wants to take a step up, this is the right opponent to try it against.

9- The Dana White Tuesday Night Contender Series has delivered onto us some dandy fighters, would you not agree? Thus far, fighters who have competed on DWTCS in the UFC are 4-3 thus far BUT there are some caveats inside those numbers. Two of those fighters were short notice additions who were NOT offered contracts during the show (Mike Santiago and Azunna Anwanyu) and another one was Allen Crowder who was signed by virtue of just being big. On the other hand, Benito Lopez, Alex Perez, Karl Roberson and Sean O'Malley have all had exciting fights and wins in the organization. Julian Marquez will be the latest DWTCS guy to take to the cage and I'm....torn. I discovered Marquez while watching him fight in Combates Americas vs Matt Hammil. At the time a typo had me thinking he was older than he really was, like 10 years older. At just 27 years old, Marquez is already an interesting name and I think he can be something although he was very adamant that cutting to 185 lbs was really hard for him on the Contender Series so I can't imagine that being a cut he'll want to take more often. He takes on short notice Brit Darren Stewart at 185 lbs.

10- Is it a lock that Darren Till winds up facing the winner of Ponz vs Perry?

11- Danny Roberts has a 3-1 UFC record but it hasn't been easy outside of his debut vs Nathan Coy. Roberts is one of those guys who is winning until he loses and losing until he wins. Vs Mike Perry, Roberts won a ton of exchanges---except for three. The one that dropped him in the first round, dropped him in the 2nd round and then finished him in the third. He was getting lit up by Bobby Nash before he iced and finished Nash in the third. Roberts has that sort of talent where he's always in a fight no matter what the odds or the scorecards say.

12- Aye leggo Pietro Menga! New flyweight on the block!

Must Wins

1- Glover Teixeira

Once upon a time, Glover was in the position of needing a must win to really save his spot in the division. He rallied from that with three straight finishes over OSP, Patrick Cummins and Rashad Evans. NOW he's back in the same spot after a 1-2 run since that Evans finish. He was blasted by Rumble, beat Cannonier while looking shaky on the feet and then got beat up and battered by Gus. Glover is an old man in an old division which means that so long as you don't lose it all overnight, you've got a chance to be relevant. Still at this point you're left wondering just how relevant Glover can be. He's lost to the elite of the elites (Jones, Davis, the aforementioned Rumble and Gus) but a loss to Misha Cirkunov would officially close the door on him. This is a must win for both dudes if ya think about it.

2- Santiago Ponzinibbio

Ponz is one of those fighters who deserves a ton of credit for wall walking his way up the rankings. After losing to Lorenz Larkin, he's racked up five wins and three of those by finish. He's not just eating up on jabronis either with wins over the likes of Gunnar Nelson, Nordine Taleb and Court McGee. He's a damn good fighter who is improving every single performance he has. The problem is that Ponz is not the most marketable WW even if he's action packed and capable of speaking multiple languages. Ponz is the guy who should be a bigger force but alas alack. He's gotta beat Mike Perry to really secure his spot in the 5-10.

3- Ricardo Lamas

In the world of "all things are connected", Ricardo Lamas is competing vs not just Josh Emmett but also the likes of Brian Ortega, Frankie Edgar and etc etc down the line. Lamas has done a lot of good recently---but look at his wins at 145 lbs. We just saw Moggly Benitez eat up Jason Knight over three rounds, we've seen what's happened to Diego Sanchez recently and Charles Oliveira, while very credible, is not the sort of win that gets you talking title shot. He's got a short notice opponent he's being expected to run right through but Josh Emmett is no joke with how hard he hits.

Top 5 Must See Fights

1- Robbie Lawler vs Rafael Dos Anjos

2- Santiago Ponzinibbio vs Mike Perry

3- Jared Cannonier vs Jan Blachowicz

4-Chad Laprise vs Galore Bofando

5- Darren Stewart vs Julian Marquez