#no longer normal about him i need tk eat him

[slavhew]

Ignyacio "Nacho" Varga

[patagucci34]

All Three ~ Nolan Patrick

A/N: this is based on the song All Three by Noah Cyrus. Also i have no idea what it’s like to have migraines and I obviously don’t know how it was for Nolan either, my depiction in this is just what I thought would fit with the story.

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, verbal fights, playful arguing

Word count: 6.9k

Nolan Patrick…your best friend, your lover, your kryptonite.

It's the classic friends with benefits scenario…you met when he came to Philly and the rest is history. Your cousin, Meg had been dating Travis Sanheim and she always dragged you along to outings so you had become pretty familiar with the Flyers.

The night you met Nolan you knew you were in for it. You had walked into Scott's apartment trailing behind Meg and Travis and you immediately locked eyes with an unfamiliar face across the room. He immediately blushed and his mouth twitched up a bit in an attempt at a smile. You gave him a small smile back and then were interrupted by a few of the guys giving you hugs.

You were intrigued by the guy across the room, you figured he was a rookie, a super cute rookie, and you really wanted to meet him. It was a little while before you finally did, you wandered into the kitchen with your cousin to grab a drink and then of course you caught up in conversation. But finally, halfway through the night you were being introduced.

"Nolan, Travis, this is y/n, y/n, this Nolan and Travis." Ghosty introduced you to the two rookies. You shook their hands and greeted them sweetly. "It's nice to meet you!"

"It's nice to meet you too." The shorter of the two, Travis, greeted. "So how do you fit in with the mix here?"

"My cousin is dating Travis Sanheim and they drag me along to things like these."

"Oh, sweet. Do you go to school here?"

"Yeah, I'm a sophomore at UPenn."

"Wow, don't you have to be like really smart to go there?"

You blushed at Travis' question. Although you had worked super hard to get into UPenn, you hated when people would make a big deal about it. And you never knew how to answer this question without sounding like an asshole. "Um, I mean I guess so…you have to get good grades and be involved in a lot."

"So, probably no chance for me?" Travis joked.

You giggled and shook your head looking over at Nolan who had been pretty quiet the whole conversation. His cheeks flushed a bit more when you looked at him and he realized that he should probably say something. "What are you studying?"

Your breath hitched upon hearing Nolan's voice. It was deep and a bit raspy and you were even more intrigued. "Environmental Studies." You answered with a small smile.

"Cool, so you like the outdoors?" Travis asked.

"Yeah, I've always lived in the city, but I like to get out whenever I can and go camping and hike and stuff."

Nolan immediately knew that he wanted to get to know her more. He was happy that she said she came to stuff like this a lot and he'd have the opportunity to hang out with her.

 Meg came barreling into the three of you, grabbing your arm to pull you towards the pong table.

"Sorry boys, she's needed for beer pong!!" She called over her shoulder and you shot them an apologetic smile as she dragged you across the room.

 You and Meg dominated, as always, so you were occupied with beer pong for quite some time. But once you finally got knocked out, you looked around for Nolan because you really wanted to talk to him again. You spotted him in walking towards the kitchen so you decided to follow.

 He sensed a presence behind him and smiled when he turned and saw that it was you.

"Beer?" He asked holding a bottle out for you.

You nodded and took it from his hand, "thank you."

He grabbed one for himself and leaned against the counter. "You're quite the player."

You smirked at his compliment, "yeah, we're not all total nerds at UPenn, I've had my practice."

"So, are you from Philly?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yup, born and raised…"

"You say that like it's a bad thing…"

"I love it here, I do, but sometimes I wish I had gone somewhere else for school. Just to experience something else, you know?"

Nolan nodded, "Yeah, I left home when I was a teenager for hockey, it's nice to see what else is out there but there's definitely no place like home."

You smiled at his comment, he was very soothing. You had only known him for a few hours but you already felt super comfortable around him.

 You stayed in the kitchen with him and talked for the rest of the night. You hadn't even noticed how late it had gotten until Travis came looking for you telling you that you needed to go because Meg was super wasted.

"Okay, I'll be right out." You assured him so that you could try and invite Nolan back to your place.

"It was really nice talking with you, y/n…" Nolan said.

"Would you maybe wanna come back to my place?" You asked with a smirk.

He smiled and nodded, "let me just go to tell TK."

 You walked up to Travis and Meg, "Nolan is gonna come back with me, so you can guys just go home." Travis raised his eyebrows, "are you sure?"

You nodded, "yeah, I'm good. I promise."

"Okay…" Travis said hesitantly. "Text me when you get home please…and if you need anything." Although Nolan seemed like a good guy, Travis still didn't really know him and he was protective of you.

"Will do. Thanks, Travis. Good luck with Meg."

"Yeah, bets she passes out in the Uber…"

You laugh at his prediction and say goodbye to Meg.

 You turn around and Nolan is approaching you. "You ready?" You nod in response and go downstairs to wait for your Uber. Conversation seemed to just flow and you talked the whole way to your apartment.

 Your roommates thankfully were both in their rooms for the night so you didn't have to deal with any introductions.

"Do you want anything to drink?" You whispered as you entered your apartment.

"I'll have some water if that's okay." You nodded and handed him a water bottle before leading him down the hallway to your room. Unsurprisingly, you talked for a little bit longer before he finally made a move and started kissing you.

 You melted into his grasp as soon as you felt his lips on yours. The faint taste of beer on his lips had you desperate for more.

 --

 Ever since that first night he had you locked in. You hooked up a few nights a week when he was in Philly. You kept in touch when he was on road trips and when he went back to Winnipeg for the off season, you even visited him there a few times. He had grown to become your best friend. As the two of you got closer it wasn't always about sex, he'd come over after a tough loss, you'd confide in him when you were stressed about school or your friends. But despite how close the two of you were, you never felt your relationship progressed to anything more than friends.

 Everyone always thought you two were a couple, he invited you to team events as his plus one, you went on dates, you were exclusive, you argued like you were married…but for some reason you never put the label on it. You didn't totally mind…you were both still very young and not to mention putting a title on it really wouldn't change your relationship at all so you supposed it didn't matter. It would happen when it happens and that was fine… or so you thought. 

  I really hate when you say you love me, those spoken words are wet concrete

And in your arms I feel so lucky, weightless when you lie on me

 It started to really fuck you up when he said those three forbidden words. I love you. Well, in your case it was two, and not as meaningful or intimate as it usually is said for the first time.

 You guys had been together, or doing whatever you were doing, for two years. He was leaving for a week long road trip and you were at his place helping him pack before you brought him to the airport.

"Hey, y/n/n?" Nolan called from the bedroom. "Have you seen my black tie?"

"I'm ironing it right now!" You yelled back from the living room.

 Once you finished ironing his dress clothes you brought them into his bedroom for him to pack.

"Thank you." He said before giving you a quick kiss and zipping them carefully into his bag.

"Do you want to eat anything before you go?" You asked.

"Can you make me a ham sandwich, please?" He asked with a childish grin.

You chuckled and shook your head, "of course."

 You looked at the time and figured he'd need to eat in the car so you packaged it up so he could take it with him. Just as you finished, he emerged from the hallway with his bags in hand. You grabbed him a bottle of water and put it in a bag with his sandwich. You double checked with him that he had everything and you headed down to the car. You drove so Nolan could eat and the rest of the car ride was spent humming along to the music.

 "Do you want any help?" You asked as you put the car in the park out front.

"No, I'm all set." He said as he slid out of the car. You got out after him and stood by as he gathered his bags. "Thank you for your help this morning."

"Anytime, Nols. Text me when you land, please."

"Will do," he assured as he leaned down to kiss you, "love you, babe."

 You stood there shocked at his words as he walked away seemingly unbothered. True to his word, he had texted you when they landed and texted you throughout the week as normal. You were kind of expecting some sort of explanation, at least an acknowledgement of what he had said but it seemed like it just slipped out and he didn't think anything of it. You however, spent the whole week overthinking and freaking out.

 Of course you had thought about if you loved Nolan or not, but you just never thought saying it was on the table because of the status of your relationship. You hoped that when he returned he'd have something to say about it but he didn't. And you were the biggest chicken in the world so you never brought it up. He didn't say it too often, mostly when he'd leave for a road trip or if you weren't going to see each other for a while. You had been trying to build up the courage to say it back but you could never bring yourself to do it.

 It didn't seem to bother him that you didn't say it back. Which made you really think it wasn't that big of a deal for him, which is what confused and frustrated you so much. You didn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about it all the time. Was he that dense? Or were you really just overthinking it? It got to the point where you hated to hear him say it. But it didn't matter how much you hated to hear it, because you knew you loved him too.

 Nolan was not known for showing much emotion. But you weren't either so it worked out for the two of you. You had other ways of expressing your feelings for each other. For you, it was helping him prepare for road trips, cooking him dinner, rubbing his shoulders, and when they started, helping him through his migraines. For him, it was bringing you coffee and dinner when you were cramming for an exam, always making sure you had Reese's and a bottle Sauvignon Blanc on hand, going for walks with you, taking you to concerts… but your favorite moments with Nolan were when the two of you were lying in bed or on the couch. Not doing anything, maybe you have a show on in the background, but you weren't paying attention to it. Instead you were listening to Nolan's heartbeat, focusing on his soft breathing. You were often under him, him acting as the perfect weighted blanket to help you feel at ease.

 --

 But darling if I could, I would fall for someone good, someone good for me

No matter how good the highs are, there of course some lows. Nothing too awful, but with the uncertainties of your relationship comes some strain. Sometimes the time spent together is too much, you feel overwhelmed, Nolan feels too much pressure… and you're never sure if you can work through it. You obviously always have, but each time you have a falling out it feels like the end.

 You had been sitting at home all night trying to reach Nolan. He had been having his migraines for a little while now and you were worried because you hadn't heard from him all day and he wasn't the playing in the game. You knew that if it was anything super serious, someone would have contacted you but you couldn't help but worry about him. You finally decided to go over to his place and see if he was okay.

 You knocked quietly upon arrival wanting to give him a chance to answer the door. After a few minutes of silence you decided to just go in. His apartment was dark, which wasn't unusual during a bad migraine, so you made your way back to his bedroom. His door was cracked so you pushed it open and saw Nolan lying down on the bed.

"Nolan." You whispered with no response. "Nolan." You whispered a little louder this time. He moved a bit so you knew he heard you but he still didn't say anything. You walked over to the bed and gently sat down next to him. "Are you okay?" He grunted in response, still not what you wanted, but something nonetheless. "I'm sorry for just coming, but I was worried…I haven't heard from you all day."

"You can see that I'm alive so you can leave now."

You sighed at his cold tone, you had heard it before and you knew better than to push so you got up to leave. You stopped before the door and turned towards him, "let me know if you need anything." You didn't wait for a response knowing that you probably wouldn't get one so you left his apartment.

 You tried to your best not to be upset by the interaction. You didn't know how Nolan felt in those moments and you wanted to give him what he needed, even if it meant him not wanting you around. It certainly wasn't the first time he shut you out and you knew it wouldn't be the last, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

 What made this time different was your interaction the next day. Usually after a night like that, he would apologize for how he treated you and would explain he just really needed to be alone. You of course always forgave him and things went back to normal. But this time, there was no apology, just more hostility.

 He had texted you asking if you could bring over something to eat. You asked him what he wanted and he said he didn't care, "get whatever you want."

You decided to just go to the store and get a few different things so he had options. When you showed up to his place he was on the couch with his eyes closed, so you quietly shut the door and put your bags down in the kitchen. You were putting a few things away when you heard him speak. "What did you bring?"

You walked over to him so you didn't have to yell, "I got a few things from the store…I got stuff for sandwiches, frozen pizza, soup…"

"Alright thanks." Was all he said. You stood there for a minute not knowing what to do. "What are you doing?" He asked looking over at you.

"I, um, well…" you fumbled out, taken aback by his tone, "do you want me to make something for you?"

"Just make me a sandwich I guess."

You nodded and walked away without another word.

 A few minutes later, you brought his sandwich to him on a plate and set it down a little harder than you probably should have. But you were starting to get upset so you didn't really care. He glared at you in response but thanked you as he sat up and grabbed it. You walked back into the kitchen and put everything away.

 "I'm gonna go, I guess. Let me know when you're feeling better." You said as he walked by him to put your coat on.

"Why are you leaving?"

"Well it's clear you're still not doing well, so I'm just gonna leave you alone." "I never told you that you needed to leave." "You didn't have to, Nolan." "What's your problem?" "I don't want to fight, especially if you’re still not feeling good, so I'm just gonna go."

"Why do we need to fight? I just asked you a question."

"Really? 'What’s your problem?' isn't exactly an innocent question."

"Well I don't really understand why you've got such an attitude." "I'm trying not to lose my patience Nolan, but you're making it really difficult." "Why?!" he asked starting to raise his voice, "What did I do?" "You're kind of treating me like shit, Nolan. I'm sorry that you had a bad migraine yesterday, and I'm sorry if I made it worse by coming here last night, but I was worried. I understand it's hard for you, but I hadn't heard from you all day. You usually let me in and help you through them and it’s fine if that's not what you want or need but you don't get to be a dick to me about it. You asked me to bring you food, I did, and you're still being rude to me. I don't mind being here Nols, I want to be here, but if you're going to act like this I'm not interested."

"You have no idea how hard it is for me, y/n," he yelled at you, "I didn't ask you to come over last night, I'm sorry you were worried but I can't put my migraine on hold just to make you feel better."

"I know that, Nolan! That's why I left once I saw that you were okay! But you were obviously okay enough this morning to text me asking for food, and you're obviously okay enough right now to be yelling at me! I know that I don't know how hard it is for you, but I'm doing my best to be here for you and support you however I can. I know that you can't always text me or call me, and that's fine. But the way you're treating me right now is not okay." "You don't have to be here for me all the time. You didn't have to bring me food today if you really didn't want to. You can say no, y/n, you don't owe me anything."

You were hurt by his words but you tried your best not to show it. "I wanted to bring you food because I care about you! I want to be here for you! It just doesn't seem like you want me here. You've been nothing but cold to me since you texted me this morning! I don't mind doing these things for you, Nol, but you could at least act grateful."

"Whatever, y/n/n. Just go I guess. I'm not arguing with you anymore."

You opened your mouth but you didn't know what you would even say, so you put your coat on and left.

 It had been a few days since your fight and you hadn't spoken to him at all. It was awful timing because you had midterms coming up and you were too distracted to study.

 You were currently trying to force your way through a study guide when you got a call from Meg. You sighed and answered the phone. "Hey, Meg."

"Hey, y/n/n, what's up?" "Trying to study…what about you?" "You're not going to the game tonight?"

"No, I really need to study." "But I thought you were going…?" "Yeah, well plans change. I can't go anymore." You heard some mumbling in the background, which you assumed was Travis. A few moments later Meg spoke up again.

"Are you and Nolan fighting?"

You rolled your eyes and sighed, "We had a pretty big fight the other day and I haven't talked to him since. But regardless, I need to study. I have midterms next week."

"Travis said Nolan has been grumpier than usual. What did you fight about?"

"His migraines I guess??? I don't even know, I tried standing up for myself but he wasn't having it so I left."

"You haven't talked at all since?" "Nope, not a word." "Are you okay?" "I don't know, not really honestly. But I really can't dwell on it right now because I need to focus on studying." "And how is that going for you?" "Not very well." "Okay, so why don't you come over and we can talk about it. If you're not studying anyway it might help to get things off your chest."

You sighed as you thought about it, knowing that she was right you agreed and got your things together to go over there.

 She had a glass of wine waiting for you and you sat down and told her everything.

"Okay, well you were right to stand up yourself. You've done a lot for him recently and you don't deserve to be treated that way."

"Yeah, but he's right, I didn't have to do any of it for him. He didn't ask, I just did it." "Okay so you didn't have to, but despite your weird ass relationship, it's not that crazy that you did. Everything you've done for Nolan I would do for Travis in a heartbeat. Yeah, we're engaged and it's a little different, but you and Nolan have something really special. It's beyond me and everyone in the world for that matter, why you two don't just get over yourselves and date officially. You've worked through fights in the past, you'll work through this too." "But they've never been this big before. And I don't like that it was about his migraines. Even if he apologizes who's to say that he won't act like this again. I feel like I can't fault him for it because it's his way of dealing with them. But I also know that I don't deserve to be treated that way so I just feel like we're not meant to be." "Y/n, that's bullshit and you know it. You and Nolan are like, the perfect match. It's been a few days, I'm sure he's feeling better, you've both calmed down, so sit down and talk about it. You know you're not going to be able to study until you do."

You sighed knowing that she was right, "okay…yeah you're right. I'll text him." 

You: Hey, Nol.

You relaxed into the couch, feeling a sense of relief now that you've had some sort of contact. You took a few sips of wine as you waited, but thankfully it wasn't too long.

Nolan: Hey, y/n/n…

You: Can we talk?

Nolan: Yeah, wanna come over after the game?

You: Yeah, just text me when you get home.

Nolan: You're not coming to the game?

You: I wasn't going to…I really need to study.

Nolan: Oh, okay. I guess I'll see you later.

You decided not to respond, you still weren't super happy with him, so you didn't think you needed to defend your decision.

 "Alright, I'm going over there to talk after the game." You updated Meg.

"Good. So you'll get ready with me???" She asked hopefully.

"Sorry, Meg. I do really need to try and study. I'm gonna head out."

"Fine," she pouted, "but you better let me know how it goes tonight!!!"

"I will, bye Meg."

 Between having the game on in the background and thinking about what you were going to say, you weren't able to get much studying done. But you still tried your hardest until you received a text from Nolan telling you that he was leaving the arena.

 You were hoping he would be in an okay mood…they won the game but Nolan didn't play. You didn't think he was having a migraine, it was probably more of a precaution, but nonetheless he'd be upset that he wasn't playing.

 When you got to Nolan's he was sitting on the couch with two glasses of water in front of him. You smiled at the gesture, although it quickly faded when you remembered why you were even here. He stood up to greet you and you went and sat next to him on the couch.

"That was a good game…"

"You watched?" "Of course."

Nolan nodded, "I just wish I could have played…"

You smiled sadly, "I know, I'm sorry, Nols. Not feeling good?" He sighed and leaned back, "I don't know, I mean, I feel like I could have played, but it's just not worth the risk of bringing one on…"

 You sat in silence for a little bit, neither of you knowing where to start. Just as you were about to speak up, Nolan beat you to it. "I'm really sorry for the way I treated you the other day. I know that you were just trying to help and I know that you don't have to do those things for me but I really do appreciate it. I shouldn't have yelled at you and I shouldn't have dismissed you the way that I did. I know it's not a great excuse, but it was just really bad the other night, I knew that I wasn't going to be fun to be around that's why I didn't want you here. But I don't have an excuse for how I treated you that morning. I had no right to say those things to you, I don't even really know what came over me. You've always been amazing to me and you do mean so much to me, y/n/n, you have no idea. I just hope that you'll forgive me…" "I appreciate your apology, Nols. My intention is never to overcrowd you or make you feel like you need my help. I'm here to help you with whatever you need and it's okay if you need some space too. It'd just be nice to be let down a little easier…"

Nolan smirked at your last comment, "I know, I'm sorry. I promise I will be better at communicating my needs with you." He put his arm around you and pulled you into his side. You rested your head on his chest and he kissed the top of your head.

 --

 You're my nemesis, you're my best friend

We nearly walk on common ground

 You really didn't have big fights like that often, but you did however argue about stupid, little things all of the time.

 One of the things that drove you absolutely nuts about your relationship with Nolan was how different the two of you were when it came to planning things and being on time. Nolan was very "go with the flow" and "we'll get there when we get there" which you loved for him…but you were much different. You liked to have things planned and you absolutely hated being late.

 You were hanging out at your apartment one Friday afternoon watching Netflix when you got a text from Nolan.

 Nolan: Hey, I need a date to an event tonight. I'll pick you up at 6:45.

You looked at the time and it was almost 2 o'clock.

Me: Whoa, whoa, whoa…what kind of event?

Nolan: Pretty fancy, black tie.

Me: Nolan!!!!! I don't have anything to wear!!!

Nolan: You have tons of dresses.

Me: Not any that fit black tie!

Nolan: Oh, well if you go now you'll have time to get one.

 You scoffed and shook your head. Of course, he'd tell you about an event a few hours before and be so nonchalant about it.

 Me: Fine, but I'm not happy.

Nolan: Why? You love these things.

Me: Yeah, when I have time to prepare for them!

Nolan: What do you need to prepare for? Just get a dress and do your makeup or whatever.

 You chose not to respond to that because you didn't actually want to start a fight. It was also hard to actually be mad at him when he really had no idea what was wrong with the current situation.

 You sent an SOS text to Meg and asked her to meet you at Nordstrom to help you pick something out.

 Two hours later, there was a mound of dresses and jumpsuits in your dressing room but you finally found the perfect one. It was a beautiful, sleek, black, satin jersey gown.

"You look so hot, y/n/n." Meg complimented as you spun around in front of the mirror.

"Thanks…I just still can't believe I'm just finding out about this stupid gala." "Yeah, it's a little annoying. But look at you, you found the perfect dress and you still have time to get ready."

"I know, I just hate when he does this. You know how I am about stuff like this." "Yes, I know, Miss Organized…but it's not the end of the world."

You rolled your eyes at your cousin and went into the dressing room to change.

 You hopped in the shower once you got home and did your hair and makeup as quickly as you could while still making it look good.

 You heard Nolan come into your apartment and you glanced at the time because you weren't ready yet. You breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was only 6:30. You finished up your makeup, put on your heels, and grabbed your coat before walking down the hall to greet Nolan. He stood up from the couch when he heard you coming but was engrossed in his phone so he didn't look up at you. You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat to get his attention.

"You ready?" He asked without looking up.

You ignored his question and said his name firmly, "Nolan." He finally looked up at you but still didn't say anything about how you looked. "Do I look okay?"

"Yeah, I don't know what you were so worried about, babe. You look amazing."

"Don't make a habit of, Nols. I was super stressed about it."

He gave you an incredulous look but sighed and nodded his head, "sorry, princess. I'll make sure to tell you a year in advance next time."

You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and walked towards the door.  

 ~~~

 One other thing about you and Nolan was that you bickered…constantly. He honestly drove you nuts more often than not but for some reason that was why you loved him so much.

 You would argue about what to have for dinner.

 "Pizza?" He suggested.

"We always have pizza, what about Chinese?" You protested.

He rolled his eyes at your suggestion, "we always have Chinese, too."

"Sushi?"

Nolan shook his head, "I don't feel like sushi." "Sandwiches?"

"Nah…" "Well, I don't know, Nolan! Why don't we just go to the store and make something." "That'll take too long." You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "Whatever, just pick something, I don't care."

"You say that now but you're going to complain about it as soon as it gets here."

"Well we can't agree on anything so whatever, just get what you want." You didn't give him a chance to argue as you stomped down the hall to do some homework.

 You always argued about directions.

 "Why are you going this way?" Nolan asked as you made a turn.

"Because it's faster. There's always a ton of traffic the other way." "No it's not, this way is like 30 minutes longer. Even with traffic we'll get there faster the other way." "No we won't, Nolan. I drive this way all the time, it's fine, trust me." "Whatever you say, we're gonna be late though." "No we're not." "Yes we are." "No we're not!" "Yes we are." "Fine, if you're so worried about it, you drive." You huffed out as you pulled over and threw the car in park and got out of the car. Nolan shook his head at how ridiculous you were being but switched places with you anyway.

You ended up getting there 10 minutes late.

 "I told you the other way was faster." You said as you climbed out of the car.

Nolan scoffed, "if you hadn't thrown a fit and just kept driving we would have been on time." "Are you kidding me? It took two minutes to switch places. That's not why we're late." "Whatever.…" He grumbled as he shot you a glare. You stuck your tongue out at him and he shook his head walking a few steps in front of you.

 He hated that you always hogged the blankets.

 To no surprise, Nolan woke up in the middle of night shivering with no blankets on. He sighed angrily and tried to pull the blankets over to him. He wasn't successful because you were all wrapped up in them and they were impossible to move.

"Y/n." He said nudging your shoulder. "Y/n/n." You stirred a bit but didn't wake up. "Y/n." He said louder. Nothing. He sighed again grabbed his water bottle from the nightstand. He poured a little bit on your face and you shot up in shock.

"What the fuck, Nolan?!"

"You were hogging the blankets!" "So you dumped water on me?!"

"You wouldn't wake up!" "You're such an ass." You seethed as you pulled the blanket back to you and rolled over to face away from him. Nolan scoffed at your action and tugged on the blanket. "Get your own blanket if you're so concerned about it." You said as you held onto it so he couldn't have any.

"And I'm the ass…" He muttered in defeat as he got up to grab a blanket from the other room.

 You hated the way he put the toilet paper on the holder.

 "Nolan!!!" You screamed from the bathroom. You were pretty sure at this point he was doing it just to piss you off. You hated when people put the toilet paper on upside down. The right way to put it was so the tail was on top. It flowed so much better and you didn't understand how people could think that it’s okay the other way.

As you angrily switched it around, Nolan was out in the living room smirking because he knew exactly what you were yelling about. He feigned innocence as you came stomping down the hallway yelling at him for putting it on like that. "Oh, I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean to."

You rolled your eyes at him and scoffed. "Seriously, Nolan. You know it pisses me off." "I know, I’m sorry, I just don't think about it when I'm changing it, because it's really not a big deal. It's just toilet paper."

"Yeah, but it's so much easier when it's right side up."

"Some would argue that you have it wrong." "Yeah they might, but they're stupid. If you don’t care, why can't you just put it the way I like it." "I try to, babe, I just forget sometimes." "Well please, try and remember."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

 A few days later, Nolan went into the bathroom and chuckled when he saw a sign posted by the extra toilet paper.

Please put toilet the right side up. Thank you :)

 Deciding he wanted to dance with the devil, he switched the toilet paper so it was the "wrong way." It took a while, but a few hours later he was in the kitchen grabbing a snack when he heard his name being yelled from the bathroom. He laughed and shook his head, preparing for the storm that was coming his way.

 --

 But we're suckers for the thrill, playing fuck, marry, and kill

Honey you're all three.

 No matter how much argued, bickered, or fought, you loved him. He was your person. You were with each other for your best moments and you stuck by each other through your worst.

 Your best friend, your lover, your soulmate. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

 ---

 You and Nolan were enjoying a rare day off you had together lounging around the apartment. Nolan had noticed that one of his favorite bands, Mt. Joy were on Instagram live. He shot them a quick text asking if it was okay if he joined. They of course said yes so he hopped on.

 You were in the kitchen baking cookies, only half listening to what Nolan was saying. However, you immediately stopped what you were doing when you heard something that Nolan said. "I'm just hanging out at home with my girlfriend. Enjoying the day off." Once you got over the initial shock you listened more intently to see if he would say anything more about it. "Yeah, we've been together for a while. Pretty much since I came to Philly." Your jaw dropped. Of course. Of course he would play it off as if you've been dating for years. Apparently you were lost in thought for longer than you thought because the next thing you know Nolan came up and waved his hand in front of your face. "You there?"

"Oh yeah, sorry." "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm your girlfriend, huh?"

He smirked at your tone, "of course you're my girlfriend. Am I not your boyfriend?" "Oh my god, Nolan!"

"What?!" "How long have I been your girlfriend?" He shrugged, "I don't know, I thought we were always kind of dating."

You scoffed, "unbelievable." He gave you a questioning look but you shrugged him off. "Nothing…never mind."

"No, tell me." He insisted.

"It's just, we never really talked about it or had the conversation so I didn't think we were actually boyfriend and girlfriend." "So we've just been…what, a thing? For three and a half years?"

"Well, I don't know, I guess. We've never celebrated an anniversary or anything. And this is the first time I've ever heard you call me you your girlfriend." "Oh, well, I'm sorry y/n/n. I guess after it had been so long I just kind of assumed." You gave him an amused huff. "What? Should we have talked about it?"

"No, no, I guess not…" you reassured, "it's just so…us."

"Us?" "Our whole relationship has been me overthinking and you under thinking, apparently…no offense."

He chuckled at your explanation. "You've been overthinking our relationship?"

"Well, yeah! I never knew what we were but you never seemed worried about it so I didn't want to bring it up."

"Okay…so if you need it spelled out for you…" he started earning himself an eye roll from you, "will you be my girlfriend?"

"I thought I already was?" You replied with a playful smirk.

He rolled his eyes at your teasing but teased you right back. "So are we good? We didn't just break up, did we?"

"No, I love you too much to give you up that easy." He raised his eyebrows at your admission. "Oh, you love me, huh?" You stuttered a bit, realizing that because you had been so insecure you had never actually said it back. "See I notice things, not such an under thinker, am I?"

"I'm sorry, it's my overthinking... I always just thought it kind of slipped out when you said it and because I didn't know what we were I was scared if I said it back things would end." "What?!" He asked, looking at you like you had two heads. "How does that even make sense?!" "I don't know!!" You defended, "I just thought…I don't know... I guess I really don't have an explanation. Just that I'm a little bit crazy."

"It's okay, I already knew that. Your insistence that there is a correct way to put toilet paper on the holder was a dead giveaway."

"Ha ha ha…" you fake laughed, "you do put it the right way now, though…"

"I can't have you going off the rails on me…"

You gently shoved him and shook your head. He smiled and cupped your face in his hands. "I love you, y/n/n. I always have and I always will."

"I love you too, Nolly." You said with a smirk.

Nolan grimaced at the nickname, "okay, maybe not when you call me that."

"Oh, come on, Nolly. You know you love it." "I don't...but I love you so I'll let it slide."

You stood on your tip toes prompting Nolan to bend down so you could kiss him. He picked you up and set you on the counter and you made out for a few minutes.

"As much as I want to make sweet, sweet love to you baby, this dough smells really good…" He said, suggesting you finish the cookies.

"Aye, aye, captain." You saluted as you pushed him out of the way and hopped off the counter.

-- 

For the rest of your life with Nolan, there wasn't a day that went by where you didn't want to fuck, marry, and kill him. But it never stopped you from loving him.

[terramous]

i'm in over my head

an incredibly belated birthday present for my love @silvarafael !! thank u jamie i love you so so so much and i'm so grateful to be your friend!! title from: the palace - father john misty word count: 9.6k beta'd by: @marjansmarwani bthb - seizures warnings: vomiting AO3

“Here’s your uniform. It’s ready to go when you are,” Carlos declared as he wandered back into the bedroom. He had a soft smile on his face as he set the folded uniform down on the corner of the bed.

“Thanks, babe,” TK said as he dragged a hand down his face. It took him a little longer to gather up the energy he needed than usual. It was probably courtesy of the month he’d spent on medical leave while recovering from his concussion. He wasn’t used to surfacing before noon anymore, aside from when Carlos would press a kiss to his forehead before leaving for his morning shifts.

In reality, he was excited to get back to work after so much time spent at home recovering. He had been going stir-crazy since he was well enough to get down Carlos’ stairs by himself and it’d been three weeks since then. As much as he liked spending all of Carlos’ time off curled up together and without a shortage of affection, he was going to lose his mind if he spent any more time cooped up.

Carlos stepped closer to TK and brought a hand up to cup his boyfriend’s jaw as he connected their lips in a soft kiss. “How’re you feeling?”

“Pretty good.”

Being met with worried brown eyes pulling apart every detail of his demeanour was something TK had come to expect in his daily life and those looks had only become more frequent over the past month.

“Are you sure? How’s your head?” Carlos asked, running his hand through TK’s hair until it came to rest on the back of his neck and he began running his thumb over TK’s skin. It had become a comforting gesture they often shared when TK was plagued by the most horrific headaches during his recovery. It never soothed the pain but it made him feel less alone.

He’d gotten used to the constant low-level pain behind his eyes, it was nothing to worry about at this point, so he omitted mentioning that to Carlos. It would only serve to make his boyfriend worry when he really didn’t need to.

TK was fine. He was on the road to fully recovering from his concussion, he was finally going to get his life back.

Even though he was only scheduled for a six-hour shift today. It was incredibly short, pitifully so, but he had to take it easy.

Carlos didn’t even have a shift today, he was just spending lunch with his family at his Tia Lucy’s and would be able to pick TK up the second he was done at the firestation. It wasn’t like he was immediately being thrown into the deep end with a 24-hour shift, Carlos really didn’t need to worry so much.

“You know I love this shirt on you,” TK said as he smoothed down Carlos’ collar and trailed his fingers down the seam along Carlos’ shoulder.

Carlos leant forward to share another kiss with TK. He spoke as they parted, “you love every shirt on me.”

“I also love every shirt off of you,” TK whispered, following the kiss as Carlos drew backwards.

“I know you do, but you have to get dressed.” Carlos stood up from the bed and intercepted TK’s needy grab to draw him back into the bed with a firm poke of TK’s nose. “You have work.”

“I could call in and say that my head hurts, then you could spend the day in bed with me. Your Tia Lucy loves me, she’ll forgive you.”

“No, she’ll forgive you. You’re her favourite,” Carlos clarified with an accusatory point in TK’s direction. “You also say that as if your father wouldn’t order a wellness check and call me every fifteen minutes to make sure you’re not dying.”

“Ugh. He’s the worst.”

“I know sweetheart,” Carlos said, giving TK another chaste kiss before he quickly snuck away. “I’m going to sort out some breakfast so you can get changed.”

“You’re the worst,” TK protested with a pout.

Carlos poked his head back through the door and shot TK a smile. “You love me anyway.”

TK tossed a pillow at Carlos but it collided with the doorframe as Carlos disappeared down the hallway. “That’s debatable!”

He watched as Carlos disappeared through the door and down the stairs before he took a deep breath and glanced at his waiting uniform. It was just clothing, it should feel like a big deal.

And yet it did.

Grabbing the folded shirt on the end of the bed and pulling it into his lap, TK couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of anxiety in his chest as he ran his thumb over the patch with his name on the front.

This was his job, he loved it, he lived to help, but that didn’t keep him from feeling nervous about getting back in the game after a month. It didn’t help that his last shift ended with being held hostage on the wrong end of a gun and given a concussion.

He could do this. He just needed to be thrown back in the deep end.

Shrugging off one of Carlos’ old hoodies that he liked to sleep in, TK took a careful breath and mentally prepared himself for the shift ahead. He didn’t know why he was so nervous but something about the familiar weight of his uniform draped over his shoulders somehow made it feel more official.

The buttons seemed to be smaller and more stubborn than he remembered. He fumbled with them but just couldn’t seem to get his fingers to work properly. Never before had it been this difficult to dress himself. How many times had he done this exact thing without a second thought?

Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes. He just wanted things to go back to normal, but he couldn’t even put on his own shirt. Fuck.

He clutched at the material of his shirt, bunching the edges up in his trembling, useless hands as he stared down at the offending buttons through tearfilled eyes. He was so focused on the indignity and frustration of it all that he didn’t hear the footsteps outside the door until Carlos’s voice drifted in.

“Hey, food’s ready- what’s wrong?” Carlos asked. TK didn’t look up but Carlos’ hands were holding his in a matter of seconds.

“I can’t do it.”

Carlos squeezed TK’s hands softly in a way that was meant to be reassuring. “What can’t you do, sweetheart?”

“These stupid buttons!” TK huffed, unable to stop the fresh round of hot tears running down his face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Carlos said, already moving to do up TK’s buttons in a matter of seconds. He smoothed down TK’s uniform, before carefully tilting his boyfriend’s head up to meet his gaze. “You know you don’t have to work today if you’re not ready. No one is going to judge you for taking a little more time off.”

“No offense, but if I’m stuck here for even one more day I am going to start climbing the walls.”

“None taken. Do you want something to eat?”

“Actually, can I just take it with me?”

Carlos’ eyebrows knit together at that as he eyed TK cautiously. He was clearly worried. “Sure. Are you nauseous? Do you want to take another day off?”

TK waved away his concern. “I’m fine. I just don’t want to be late.”

“Okay…” Carlos didn’t look convinced but he gave TK a quick kiss. It was just a second or two but it took all of TK’s strength to not seize Carlos by his collar and pull him down onto the bed.

Carlos knew this, of course, and smiled at TK before pulling away. “Finish getting dressed and we’ll get on our way soon. I’m sure you can manage that, but just call out if you need me.”

“I always need you.”

“You’re such a dork,” Carlos chuckled as he stepped out of their bedroom, blowing TK a kiss as he left.

TK lifted his hand to catch the kiss, gingerly curling his fingers into his palm. He turned back to his uniform and took a few seconds to let go of his anxiety. He could do this. The buttons were just a minor setback.

Truly, the buttons appeared to be the hardest thing. Not that TK was entirely sure why, but getting dressed the rest of the way proved itself to be a lot easier.

He’d even managed to brush his teeth and make his way halfway down the stairs before Carlos called out to him.

“Who’s this handsome paramedic in my house? I don’t remember calling 911.”

TK just rolled his eyes as he hopped down the rest of the staircase. As soon as his feet hit the floor he stood there with his arms open, giving Carlos a pointed look.

He tapped his foot impatiently as Carlos wandered over and wrapped his arms around TK’s waist, picking him up and walking towards the door.

“This is not what I had in mind!” TK grumbled until Carlos set him down. Slung over Carlos’ shoulder was TK’s duffle bag that plonked heavily on the ground at the same time as TK’s socked feet reconnected.

Before TK could say anything, Carlos was kneeling down and grabbing TK’s boots.

“I can put my own shoes on,” TK protested as Carlos manhandled his feet into the boots.

“You can’t even tie your laces properly, you still do the double-loop. It’ll go faster if I do it.”

TK knew it was a ploy to make sure he didn’t have to deal with the fiddly task of tying his laces. But he’d never tell Carlos that he had caught on.

I only took Carlos a few seconds before he was standing up again and pushing the front door open with a lovesick grin on his face. “You ready to go?”

“Definitely,” TK said with a nod.

TK froze as he stepped out of the front door. The sun was definitely brighter this morning than he was expecting, and a little more than his head was prepared for. But he could handle it.

“You good, babe?” Carlos asked. TK opened his eyes to see Carlos worriedly looking over the top of the car door instead of climbing into the driver’s seat. He really was going to worry about TK all day, wasn’t he?

TK nodded, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

Taking a deep breath, TK gave Carlos a smile. “It’ll be fine, Carlos.”

~

Walking into the firehouse felt like coming home after a long day. He wasn’t aware he could miss his workplace so much, at least until he spent a month basically confined to Carlos’ condo.

No one was around when TK wandered in, which he could probably chalk up to the missing ladder truck. That was until he spotted the one, the only, Nancy Gillian. She had her legs draped over the arm of the couch and her phone glued to her face, the blue light from the screen reflecting on her skin.

“He’s alive!” Nancy cheered as she looked up from her phone, all but throwing it aside as she kicked her legs up and in a few short strides, wrapped TK up in a bone-crushing hug.

This was definitely weird. TK had never even been hugged by Tommy, let alone the paramedic with whom he had not had the smoothest sailings with in terms of their relationship.

“I missed you, jerk.”

It took TK a few seconds before he was returning her embrace. “I missed you too.”

Almost instantly, Nancy let TK go and turned her back to him. “Did you hear that, Tommy? I told you I could get him to be sappy within five minutes!”

Tommy stepped into view and clicked the button on her stopwatch, making it beep. “2.38. That’s got to be a record.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a record. Or that you were both scheming against me on my first day back,” TK said, his gaze shifting between his fellow paramedics.

“C’mon, it was the perfect scheming opportunity. Marjan and Paul helped with the plan,” Nancy explained.

TK rolled his eyes. “Of course they did. I wouldn’t expect anything less from them.”

Nancy looked around before crossing her arms across her chest, looking somewhere between disappointed and bored. “They had hoped that they were gonna be here to witness it though.”

“Speaking of, why aren’t you guys on the call with them?”

“Medical wasn’t needed, so we’ve just been waiting for you to show up. They’ll be back soon, though,” Tommy said with a shrug.

“And Judd will probably never put you down again in your lifetime,” Nancy chipped in.

TK couldn’t help but to chuckle at the mental image of Judd carting him around for the rest of his life. He certainly wouldn’t put it past him.

Judd was, after all, always threatening to wrap TK up in bubble wrap or never let him do anything unsupervised ever again. TK definitely considered it to be an overreaction and a tad over-protective but everyone else seemed to disagree with him every time he brought it up.

He followed Nancy back to the couch where they both sat down and TK prepared for the onslaught of questions about his well being.

Nancy turned her calculating gaze on TK. “How’s your head?”

“Good.”

“Any dizziness?”

“Nope.”

“Sensitivity to light?”

“I told you, Nancy, I’m fine. Just happy to be back at work.”

“She’ll never admit it, but she missed you,” Tommy said.

“I did not,” Nancy hissed, shooting a glare in Tommy’s direction.

“She’s lying. We all missed you.”

TK turned to see Paul standing behind him. Paul smiled and ruffled TK’s hair. “How are you doing?”

“If one more person asks me that I’m going to smack them.”

“Don’t hit me,” Paul said, raising his hands with his palms towards TK in surrender.

“Give me one good reason,” TK said, raising his hand in an empty threat.

Paul eyed him carefully. “You need someone to protect you from Judd when he realises that you’re here.”

“True,” TK said, lowering his hand so that it rested in his lap. Judd’s big brother role that he had adopted was definitely a lot to deal with at times, but TK enjoyed the affection.

“Strand!” Judd’s distinct voice called, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.

Paul mouthed him a quick ‘good luck’ before TK was wrapped up in a tight embrace.

Pitifully trying to shove away Judd’s arms, TK struggled to wriggle out of his hold. “I need to breathe, Judd.”

~

As soon as his boots hit the ground, TK rolled his shoulders back and shook out his arms as he bounced on his feet. It was good to be back.

It’d been a good day, mostly minor calls so far, a fainting, a typical rest home visit, and a compound fracture from an unfortunate shortcut down two flights of stairs. But this was exciting, he was back in the heat of it now.

“Look less excited to be at a car accident, Strand,” Nancy scolded as she jabbed her elbow into TK’s ribs.

“It’s not my fault. I’ve been on house arrest for a month, I’ve missed this.”

“And we’ve missed you, but make sure to listen to your body and not push your limits today. You’re supposed to be being eased back into this,” Tommy said carefully as she placed her hands on TK’s shoulders to hold him still.

TK nodded. “Got it. Take it easy, tap out if there’s any issues. I got it.”

Tommy offered him a satisfied smile before she turned to the scene. “Alright, TK, you take the kid that got flung, Nancy and I will check on the driver.”

“On it, Cap,” TK said with a sharp nod, adjusting the strap of his medical bag on his shoulder.

He could do this, he could see the kid sprawled on the road with a few firefighters by his side. This was straightforward, just TK and no hassle of waiting for the team to free his patient.

It was simple, something he couldn’t mess up on his first day back. He knew that this was Tommy’s way of including him without potentially jeopardizing anything.

“What have we got here?” TK asked as he knelt down on the opposite side of the patient, meeting Paul’s gaze briefly.

“Kid got thrown, don’t think he lost consciousness but he doesn’t seem to be in a chatty mood,” Paul offered.

“That’s alright, I got it from here. Why don’t you go do firefighter-y things?”

“Ooh, he’s a paramedic and now he’s too good for us firefighters,” Paul mocked as he gave TK’s shoulder a firm shove.

“Blah, blah, blah. Screw you, Strickland.”

“Let me know when you’re free!” Paul called with his hands cupped around his mouth as he jogged backwards towards the rest of the team.

TK couldn’t help the smile on his face as he shook his head. It was good to be back. He’d certainly missed everyone more than he cared to admit. He turned his attention back to his patient. As far as TK could tell, Paul had gotten as far as a cervical collar and not much else.

“Hey, I’m TK. I’m a paramedic. Can you tell me your name?”

“Andy,” the kid groaned, his face scrunched up in what TK assumed was pain. There was road rash visible on Andy’s face, blood from his nose and a laceration on his forehead sticking his long black hair to his skin.

“Hi Andy. I’m going to help you as best I can. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m-” Andy paused, seeming to need a moment to think about it. “I’m not sure.”

TK tensed for a moment before shaking out any visual reaction to the information he was gathering. He had to be professional, and being professional meant keeping his patient calm at all costs. “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Do you know if you lost consciousness at any point?”

“I don’t think so?”

TK pulled the edge of his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on it to ease his nerves. This wasn’t good. “Do you know where you are?”

“The middle of the road.” Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Tuesday?”

TK shook his head. “It’s Saturday.”

“Nice.” Andy cracked a small smile. “I love the weekend.”

TK fished his penlight out of his pocket and turned it on in one fluid motion. It was muscle memory, but it felt good to be back. He ran it over Andy’s eyes, his mind whirling as he processed what he was seeing.

Tensing up a little as he realised the severity of the seemingly insignificant head wound. “Pupils are irregular and response is delayed.”

“That’s bad isn’t it?” Andy asked, his voice climbing in pitch with what was undoubtedly fear. It was always fear.

“Don’t worry about that right now.” TK clicked off the light and held his penlight parallel with Andy’s face. “Can you follow my light?”

He watched Andy’s eyes trailing the sideways movement of the light carefully.

Clicking his tongue, TK slipped the penlight back into his pocket. “I can’t make a diagnosis here but you might have a concussion.”

“How bad is that?”

“Oh, it’s not gonna be pleasant. I just spent a month on medical leave for a concussion of my own. Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

“Ouch?”

TK nodded, suppressing a grimace as he tried to ignore the stabbing pain making itself known behind his right eye. Now really wasn’t the best time for a headache. “Ouch.”

“I’m going to slide my hands under you to check for any bleeding that I can’t see. Is that okay with you?”

Andy nodded slightly, his movement restricted by the collar. Clearly his probable concussion protested the attempted motion as Andy quickly let out a groan, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yeah, that won’t be a good idea for a while,” TK hummed as he began sliding his gloved hands under Andy, watching carefully for the familiar smear of red that would let him figure out why Andy was getting so pale.

But there was no blood.

In any other instance, TK would be relieved to find no evidence of bleeding, but with the growing lack of colour in Andy’s skin and the way that TK confirmed with a single touch that his skin was also colder than it should be, there was no relief from the lack of a visible bleed. It was almost definitely internal and there wasn’t a lot that TK could do about that.

Sucking his teeth, TK mentally ran over his course of action. It didn’t involve a lot of steps so he could handle it on his own. There was no need to bring in the cavalry.

“Okay, I’m going to give you an IV,” TK said as he dug around in his med kit. “It won’t solve anything but it’ll make you feel a whole of a lot better.”

“That sounds good.”

TK had the bag of saline, the needle—he even triple-checked the gauge—, the catheter and a few alcohol pads laid out before him. This was an IV, he’d done it a million times, he could do it in his sleep.

That was until he tried to open the alcohol pad and couldn’t seem to get his fingers to cooperate. It was the button fiasco all over again. TK was starting to get really sick of this.

Brushing it off and deciding to blame the alcohol pad as faulty, TK quickly tried another. And another. And another.

The alcohol pads weren’t faulty, he was.

Taking a breath as he closed his eyes, TK willed his hands to stop shaking. This wasn’t the end of the world, he could handle it.

“Hey, Gillian, can you give me a hand?” TK called over his shoulder and tried to ignore how unsure his voice sounded.

“Sure!” She called back. It was only a few seconds before Nancy was kneeling on the other side of Andy, her own med kit with her. “What do you need?”

With a careful inhale, TK asked the question he knew was only going to raise a million more. “Can you run a line for me?”

Nancy looked like she wanted to ask, but she stayed silent and set up the IV with quick ease.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nancy said. TK could tell that she was trying to seem casual, but her voice was firm. This was going to find it’s way back to Tommy and she was going to bench him. So much for a good first say back. “I’m gonna go see if there’s an available gurney.”

“That'd be great, thanks Nancy,” TK said with an uneasy smile. He was grateful but he knew that once this interaction was over, he was going to be benched. Carlos would be called to come and pick him up from the station and he’d be back on medical leave for the foreseeable future.

Nancy left and TK turned back to Andy who was eyeing him curiously, his brown eyes seeming to trail after TK’s every movement.

“Are you alright?” TK asked, scanning Andy for any sign of an injury that he may have missed.

“Did you know that you’re really pretty?”

TK froze for a second, he probably looked like he was buffering. Concussed teenagers are one thing. Apparently concussed teens flirting with him were the same thing. TK had to consciously remind himself to reply to Andy instead of just kneeling there looking like a stunned mullet. “It has been said.”

“No, I mean like, so pretty.”

TK rocked back on his heels slightly, lifting his head to look in the direction of the rest of the crew. Silently begging Nancy to return. “Andy, I’m flattered, but you’re like twelve.”

“I’m fifteen,” Andy said.

“I rest my case. You’re a minor and I already have a boyfriend.”

“It’s not my lucky day, I guess.”

TK could help a smile as he shook his head, ignoring the low-level pounding in his making itself known. “No. No, it is not.”

~

As soon as Andy was unloaded from the ambulance and Nancy and Tommy followed his gurney inside the hospital, TK climbed into the passenger’s seat of the ambulance to wait for them.

His body was so heavy, he really couldn’t fathom staying on his feet any longer. He wasn’t used to all this work. Maybe diving back into the deep end wasn’t the best plan.

If he was still a firefighter, he’d have been put on light duty. He’d be working reception, checking inventory or cleaning all day but he’d be doing something. Light duty wasn’t much of a function when he was a paramedic.

This was the closest he could get, he didn’t get to drive or work on anything that wasn’t minor. And still, he was feeling the toll.

Curling in on himself, TK massaged his temples. Of course his head had to hurt.

TK could feel the pressure in his head climbing. The little sharp pains morphed into a constant throbbing as it got harder and harder to bear having his eyes open. It was only going to get worse from here.

But he just needed to hold it together for the rest of the day. Or until they could get back to the station.

If they got back he could sleep off the worst of it, or look pitiful enough for Tommy to send him home. He didn’t want to go home but he wanted to stop feeling like he couldn’t do his job.

He could hear the distinct sound of doors opening and closing as Tommy and Nancy returned but he didn’t look at them.

“Good work out there, team. It’s been too empty just as the two of us, it’s good to have you back, TK,” Tommy said as TK felt the ambulance start up with the familiar hum of the engine.

“It’s good to be back.”

Nancy had pulled out of the hospital and back onto the road by the time Tommy spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about the IV, TK?”

“Not really,” TK said. He knew what Tommy was going to say, he was bound to be benched.

“Just say the word and you can go home. No one is mad, or disappointed, or anything. If you need more time off, that’s okay.”

“No, no. I’m good.”

“The offer is always there if you feel the need to take it.”

TK let out a short laugh. It sounded kind of like he was being strangled. “I won’t, but okay.”

They lapsed into silence, the atmosphere suddenly having become so much more awkward.

After a few minutes and most of their journey back to the station the pressure in TK’s head decided to spike and suddenly everything was making a fresh wave of pain hit him.

Groaning softy, TK pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyes shut to block out the light. He really needed the throbbing in his head to ease up or at least not get worse before they got back to the station and he could down a few advil to take the edge off.

Over his recovery period he had gotten used to the pattern of his migraines, the way the pain would linger for an hour or two and steadily get worse until it skyrocketed and Carlos had to hold him while he sobbed and tried to ride out the pain. By that point there wasn’t much either of them could do except to make their way up to the bedroom and hope that TK could sleep it off.

He couldn’t begin to even imagine how many hours Carlos had spent sitting on the bed next to him in the dark, rubbing his hand soothingly across TK’s back, silently begging for the pain to stop. TK knew how much it killed Carlos to see him hurting, as well as how he’d kept quiet about it but he could never really hide these things from his boyfriend. Carlos’ eyes were so full of emotion, they were a dead giveaway every time.

It’d been almost a week and a half since he’d had a migraine, his neurologist even said it was a good indicator that he was on the tail end of his recovery. However, in usual TK Strand style, good things never lasted.

As he opened his eyes, TK had to suppress his urge to curse. Everything was like he was looking through an out of focus camera, the haziness only slight in the centre of his vision but his peripheral vision was barely decipherable.

The taillights of the car in front of them seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat and the midday sun was making the simple act of keeping his eyes open borderline-unbearable as pain laced its way through his skull.

This was bad.

He closed his eyes and leant his head back until it collided softly with the seat. At least he was expecting the dizziness and nausea as they washed over him.

“You alright, Strand?” Nancy asked, undoubtedly having given him a quick once-over when he got quiet.

TK nodded, biting his tongue as he felt like he was going to regret having lunch. He tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out very weak and not at all as casual as he had hoped. “Yeah, just tired. I’m not used to being awake for so long without taking a nap.”

“Feel free to lie down for a bit when we get back to the station. I don’t want you overdoing it, you hear me?” Tommy chimed from her seat in the back.

“I’ll be fine, Cap. Just need to readjust to working life.”

TK could hear Tommy shift in her seat, probably so she was sure that he was listening to her. “You sustained a traumatic brain injury after getting kidnapped on the job, I think you’re entitled to as many naps on the clock as you can take.”

“I’ll be fine. I just want you to treat me like you would any other day. You guys got kidnapped too, I don’t need any special treatment.”

“You’re not special, we just don’t want to waste half an hour giving you a ride up to the ER because you overdid it and didn’t tell anyone,” Nancy said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” TK objected, not even bothering to open his eyes and give Nancy a displeased look.

He didn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes as his coworkers laughed.

Tommy was the first to speak, “sure, kid. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The laughter dissolved after a short while, Nancy and Tommy making amicable conversation as TK tried to hold himself together around every turn and slightly too-abrupt brake.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. It seemed like the fire station was further away than it had ever been before, he wasn’t going to make it until then.

Taking a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, he couldn’t quell the nausea.

“Nancy, pull over,” he groaned.

“What?”

“Pull over.”

“I’m not going to pull over, TK. We’re almost at the station.”

“Nancy Gillian, I swear to god, pull this ambulance over.”

Nancy gave in, probably noticing the serious edge to TK’s voice or probably the fact that he had undoubtedly gone very pale in the passenger’s seat. “Okay, okay. Pulling over now.”

TK couldn’t fly out the door any faster once the ambulance came to a halt. He knew that Nancy and Tommy had a million questions that he wasn’t answering, but he was too preoccupied sinking to his knees and throwing up in the gutter.

This wasn’t going to go down in history as one of TK Strand’s finest moments, that’s for sure.

He didn’t notice anything aside from the throbbing in his head and the sting of bile in his throat until there was a hand rubbing his back. It was Nancy, he knew that without her even saying anything. Her cherry scented shampoo, although usually pleasant, made his stomach twist.

“‘M sorry,” TK whined as he took a moment to catch his breath before the nausea came back with a vengeance and he was once again emptying his guts.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t feel good.”

“No, I bet you don’t.” That was Tommy. She had a very soothing energy that would usually make him feel better but he was too preoccupied retching and only now noticing how much he was shaking.

“I’m-” TK drew in a trembling breath. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.”

“It’s just,” TK waved a hand in the vague direction of his head, “concussion.”

Tommy was running her hand through his hair now, like his mother always used to do when he was sick as a kid, it was a very comforting gesture. He was going to die with the secret that her comfort made him want to cry, ignoring the fact that he definitely already wanted to cry. “Yeah, I think you’re gonna need some more time off.”

“No.”

He could almost hear Nancy rolling her eyes. “Yeah, Bud, I don’t think you have a choice in the matter.”

“If this stays between us I don’t have to go back on medical leave.”

Nancy scoffed. “This can stay between us if you can stand up and walk back to the ambulance on your own.”

“That’s easy. I can do that.”

“Go for gold, kid,” Tommy said as she retracted her steadying hold on him. TK didn’t quite realise how little of a part he was playing in keeping himself upright until that moment.

Steeling himself with a deep breath and wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, TK rocked back onto his heels, ready to push himself onto his feet.

And careened backwards almost instantly, a head rush rolling over him.

TK would never be able to express his gratitude for Tommy and Nancy catching him in that moment. He leant heavily on Tommy as he closed his eyes willing everything to stop spinning. The earth wasn’t supposed to tilt like this.

Nancy gave TK a gentle pat on his back. “Yeah, you’re going back on medical leave.”

She was just met with a groan, TK couldn’t find the energy to argue, and he was almost certain that if he opened his mouth he’d be sick again.

“Do you want to ride in the gurney back to the station?” Tommy asked softly, brushing his sweaty hair away from where it clung to his forehead.

“Please, no,” he whimpered, resting his head fully on Tommy’s shoulder. He was never going to live this down.

~

“Hey, champ. Just sit tight and we’ll give you a hand.”

TK waved her off. “No- No, I’m good.”

Ignoring how much he fumbled, TK eventually managed to wrestle his way out of his seatbelt and opened the door. He ended up bracing himself almost entirely on the doorframe as he struggled to his feet and tried to step down.

His foot missed its purchase and he was falling for a moment or two, his brain didn’t even realise it was happening until Tommy and Nancy appeared seemingly out of nowhere to catch him.

“Easy there,” Tommy said as TK relinquished his part in holding himself up. His legs felt like the bones had been stripped from them at this point, he had no hope of bearing his own weight.

TK couldn’t help the whine he let out at the sound of Judd’s voice. “Whoa, what happened?”

“Can you guys help get him to the couch?” Tommy asked, dodging the question as she slung one of TK’s arms over her shoulders.

Judd’s arm looped around TK’s torso should have made him feel better and more supporter but he could only let out a pitiful groan as every slight shift made the room spin.

“Don’t worry, we gotcha.”

“I don’t,” TK grumbled as he let himself be dragged around until he was settled down onto something soft. He knew that it was a long enough walk from the ambulance bay to the common area or the bunk room for TK to know they had definitely gained the attention of most of the firehouse at this point.

“You’re looking very green, kid.”

As much as TK appreciated Judd’s concern and assistance getting to wherever he was currently situated - he couldn’t find the will to open his eyes to the bright lights of the station - but the signature deep Southern drawl was grating against his eardrums.

“He looked greener when he abandoned his guts in the middle of the street,” Nancy chimed. It was a very snarky statement but her words had no bite. TK imagined that this was probably how she had spoken to him on the night of the kidnapping when he was freshly concussed. He honestly couldn’t recall anything more than a few flashes from that night.

“He’s shakin’ like a leaf.”

“Yeah.” That was Paul’s voice now, coming from somewhere behind or to the side of TK. He wasn’t entirely sure anymore. “Shouldn’t he go to the hospital? This doesn’t look good at all.”

TK could almost see Tommy shrug. “If he doesn’t improve with some rest, or gets worse, there’s a ride to the ER with his name on it.”

“No,” TK groaned. “No hospitals.”

“Bud, I love ya, but this looks pretty bad.”

The voices were beginning to get harder to tell apart, everyone’s words blending together into one big indecipherable mess by the time they reached TK’s ears but he knew that was Judd.

TK stiffened as his stomach lurched. He opened his mouth to speak but a small trash can was swiftly shoved into his arms just in time for him to throw up yet again. He whimpered between heaves of what was just bile at this point, his insides cramping painfully.

“Carlos is on his way.”

Was everyone here? TK assumed his dad would be there considering he was puking his guts out on his first day back, but there were already too many other people seeing him in his current state. The idea of Carlos coming, however, made TK feel a lot better.

He’d probably feel bad about interrupting Carlos’ time with his family later but right now, all TK cared about was having Carlos next to him again.

He didn’t even realise he was crying until someone was wiping his tears away. It was that gesture that prompted TK to open his eyes. To near-complete darkness.

It only took him a few seconds to piece together that he was in the bunk room surrounded by his colleagues while he held onto a rubbish bin with a white-knuckle grip. As if on cue, he folded over the edge of the bin again and retched while someone continued rubbing his back.

The hand was definitely bigger than Tommy or Nancy’s, so maybe it was Judd? Or Paul? TK didn’t particularly care at this point. He was just glad that he wasn’t alone.

Every time he managed to lift his head for more than a minute at a time, Tommy was right there with a glass of water, trying to coerce him into drinking some of it.

“You need to drink something,” Tommy said firmly as she once again put the glass in his face.

Even the idea of drinking water made TK’s insides twist, he didn’t particularly feel like throwing up cold water anytime soon. “No thanks.”

“I wasn’t asking. You’re going to drink this water or you’re going to get an IV.”

“An IV sounds great.”

“Drink the water, TK.”

He didn’t have the energy to fight her so he slowly sipped the water while Tommy held the edge of the glass to his lips.

The feeling of cold water on his irritated throat was better than he’d ever admit, but he only got a few seconds of relief before he pushed the glass away and the water came back up.

“Yeah, this has ‘hospital’ written all over it,” Tommy said.

“No hospital,” TK groaned, trying to glare at Tommy through the tears gathered in his eyes. “Need Carlos.”

“I’m here.” There were hurried footsteps and a familiar presence slotting in next to TK as arms wrapped around him. TK could cry. He buried his face in Carlos’ shoulder while Carlos ran his hand between TK’s shoulder blades. “I’m here, baby.”

TK couldn’t help the fresh wave of tears that soaked into Carlos’ shirt. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. How are you feeling?”

“Bad. Awful. I left the thesaurus at home.”

“You’re doing great.”

“Sorry for ruining lunch,” TK mumbled into Carlos’ shoulder, his voice muffled by the fabric.

Carlos brought a hand up to play with TK’s hair at that. “Shh, no. You didn’t ruin anything. We’re all just very worried about you and want you to feel better.”

“I wanna feel better.”

“I know, baby.”

“Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. Everyone understands,” Carlos said as he pressed a kiss to the top of TK’s head. “Are you going to let Tommy take you to the hospital now?”

TK just whined and clung tighter to Carlos. He didn’t want to let go.

“I’m not gonna leave. I’m going to be right next to you the entire time,” Carlos promised, pressing a few more soft kisses to TK’s hair.

“Is that my cue to get the gurney?”

TK wasn’t entirely sure who spoke but he just sighed and nodded into Carlos’ shirt.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” TK could only imagine the smile Carlos was giving, he could hear it in his boyfriend’s voice.

Being with Carlos brought him comfort and he was so exhausted from the toll this episode had taken on his body that he was content to just rest his entire weight against Carlos.

Carlos accepted his presence entirely. He ran his palm along TK’s spine in a comforting gesture. TK could almost fall asleep there if he didn’t feel so awful.

He had no idea how much time had elapsed by the time something changed. Everyone was pretty silent for the most part, aside from the occasional clicking of the door opening and closing as people came and went.

And then he felt the shift. Like a tectonic plate moving underfoot, the exhaustion morphed into a sensation he was all too familiar with.

Panic.

Something bad was about to happen.

TK rested his palm on his chest, right over where he could feel his heart racing as it got harder to draw in a deep breath. That wasn’t a usual symptom when his head was acting up. “Ooh, I feel weird.”

Carlos stiffened under him at that. “What do you mean?”

He looked over at where Marjan and Paul were pretending not to be looking over at him every few seconds, only to realise he couldn’t really see them all that clearly. “I kinda feel like I’m about to have a panic attack, but my vision is going weird. That doesn’t usually happen.

“Are you okay? Do I need to get Captain Vega?”

“I think-” TK’s sentence was cut off as he paused to take a breath, willing away the dizziness that had made a spectacular comeback. “I need to lie down.”

“Alright, okay,” Carlo said, helping to ease TK down until he was lying on his side and Carlos could run a hand through his hair. “Just hang tight and we’ll see what Captain Vega says, okay?” Carlos asked in a soft voice, running his hand through TK’s hair.

TK nodded, “Okay.”

As quickly as things had gotten weird, they got weirder. There was another wave of dizziness and a weird taste in his mouth as his body seemed to have a mind of its own. There were a couple involuntary jerks of his hands and legs, as much as TK tried to hold his limbs still it just seemed to get worse.

“Tommy!” Carlos called, his voice cracking.

“Go get Tommy,” someone said before there was another set of hands touching him and the sound of panicked footsteps moving further away. When they spoke again TK could identify the voice as being his father’s. “TK? TK, can you hear me?”

TK wanted to nod, to confirm that he could hear them, that he didn’t know what was happening.

He was scared.

TK could feel himself slipping as the jerking got worse. He wanted to tell Carlos not to worry but he wasn’t in control anymore. His jaw clenched firm as his head jolted back a few times. He was shaking now, like he’d been electrocuted, and Carlos was looking more and more scared with each passing second.

“Shit.” Tommy’s voice reached his ears ripe with alarm as TK felt even more hands on him. “He’s seizing!”

And TK slipped.

The darkness was only brief, in what seemed like just a few moments he was blinking up at Carlos again. As if he’d fallen asleep for a minute or two.

“Hey there,” Carlos said with a soft smile. Looking up at his boyfriend, TK could clearly see the tears gathered in Carlos’ wide, worried eyes.

“Hi,” TK breathed as he pieced together all he could remember. There was a gap between lying down and talking to Carlos and waking up in the same place that he wasn’t entirely sure of. It was a void. All he knew was that his head definitely hurt more now, but everyone aside from Tommy and Carlos had cleared the room. “What happened?”

“You had a seizure.” That was definitely Tommy speaking, even though TK couldn’t see her. She was somewhere out of his line of sight and he was too preoccupied with studying Carlos’ worried expression to look away. It definitely made a lot more sense now why Carlos downright terrified.

It also made sense why no one else was around. Tommy would have known that he didn’t want anyone gawking at him when he came to. “Thanks.”

“For?” Tommy asked.

“Sending everyone out.”

“Don’t worry about it. I figured you didn’t need anyone other than me or your boy right now.” Tommy gave TK’s thigh a pat before leaving his side. “I’m going to go see if Nancy’s got the gurney sorted, okay?”

TK just hummed as Tommy walked away. He didn’t particularly care much about what was going on, he just reached out for Carlos until he could curl his finger around his boyfriend’s wrist.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a soft voice, not failing to notice the way Carlos jumped a little.

“What do you mean?” Carlos’ eyebrows knit together in confusion as he visibly tried to decode those three words, as if he was going to come up with a reason he could understand for why TK would ask him that. “I’m fine. I should be asking you that.”

“You’re scared, I can tell.”

“Of course I’m scared. You don’t have to worry about me, though.”

“I’m still going to worry, I care about you.”

“Care about yourself for once. You just had a seizure!” Carlos’ voice cracked on the last word as he covered his mouth with his free hand. He was crying. TK couldn’t see it but he knew. He could feel the way Carlos trembled and hear how his breaths were rough and staggered as he tried to swallow his sobs.

“I know. But I’m gonna go to the hospital and they’re gonna fix me up, you don’t have to worry. I don’t even feel that bad anymore, I’m just really tired and my head hurts. I just wanna make sure you’re okay, ‘Los.”

He heard Carlos take another deep, steadying breath before a familiar hand found its way into his hair. “TK-” he started, voice moderately steadier than before, but he was interrupted by the arrival of TK’s team and the gurney.

“Up you go, Strand,” Tommy instructed lightly as Carlos shifted gears, pulling the hand out of his hair and instead reaching around to help him up.

“I don’t need help,” TK objected as he slowly eased himself to his feet, bracing his entire weight on Carlos as his boyfriend helped to lift him.

“Yeah, you do. It’s okay,” Tommy said as she grabbed his legs and moved them so that they were on the gurney with him. “No one is mad at you.”

“I never said that.”

Carlos pressed a careful kiss to TK’s temple before brushing a hand through his boyfriend’s sweaty hair as he placed the other on TK’s side. “You were thinking it.”

“I’m getting déjà vu,” TK groaned. This situation of his worried boyfriend hovering over him while his head was unbearably painful was beginning to be a recurring event in his life.

“I think they call that nausea and dehydration,” Carlos offered, a small smile curling up the corner of his lips.

TK closed his eyes and sighed. “I hate you.”

“Why? I’m lovely.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” TK mumbled as he tried to suppress a groan at the jostling motion the gurney made as he was loaded into the ambulance. Carlos was quick to follow him though, eagerly scooping up TK’s hand in his own.

~

"I'm dying," TK grumbled, his face buried in his pillow. He’d been trying to fall asleep for the past however many hours he’d been cooped up in the ER. But everything was too bright, too loud, and his head hurt so badly. Every squeak of sneakers or beep from his IV pump seemed to serve only to exacerbate his pain. He was even cooped up under a spare blanket and Carlos’ jacket as his sweat was just making him colder in the frigid hospital air.

TK could tell by Carlos’ silence that he was trying to suppress a laugh before he said anything. "You're not dying, babe."

"If I'm not dying, why does my head hurt so bad?"

"Because you're an idiot who doesn’t tell anyone when he’s struggling."

TK just groaned in response. "I don't think this level of pain should be legal."

"Unfortunately, I don't think I can arrest your brain."

"Then what's the point of having a cop boyfriend?”

“I’m not sure. Personally, I choose to date endearing idiots who are determined to give me grey hair.”

TK just huffed and shot his boyfriend a glare. “You suck.”

“I know.”

Their banter dissolved into silence. TK knew Carlos was trying to stay as quiet as possible, that any sound would aggravate TK’s pain, and he was grateful for that.

"My head hurts," TK whimpered, reaching out clumsily until his fingers connected with Carlos' arm. His grip wasn't firm, but he pulled Carlos closer anyways, as if his boyfriend wasn't mere inches away at most times and always eager to be closer.

Carlos ran his fingers through TK's hair, carefully so as to not jostle his head. "I know sweetheart, I'm sorry."

In a flash, the nausea came rolling back with a vengeance and TK only had a few seconds to prop himself up on his elbows.

Carlos was quick to shove an emesis bag under TK’s face as he shuddered under the force of his body dry heaving until he had to taste his own bile for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

When TK finally rolled back onto the bed, panting from the toll the day had taken on his body, Carlos gagged. “That’s disgusting. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Give me a break.” TK grumbled, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. He was exhausted and he just wanted everything to be over. “I’m in the hospital.”

“This chain of events was entirely your fault, you don’t get pity.”

“I deserve pity.”

“Maybe you do.”

“I want to take a shower, I’m all sweaty and gross.”

“You can when we get home.” Carlos said, taking TK’s hand in his own, careful not to mess with the IV as he pressed a few short kisses to TK’s knuckles. “Unfortunately that’s going to be a little while away. They’re probably going to want to do a bunch of scans.”

TK groaned, rolling towards Carlos until his face was buried in the thin hospital pillow. “I hate scans.”

“I know, baby.” Carlos tapped his fingers on the railing of the bed a few times before he spoke again. “You know they’re necessary though.”

“I don’t care. They suck.”

“Just try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll wake you up when the doctor gets here.”

TK went to nod but thought better of it. Instead he sighed and sank further into the pillow, “I’m sorry.”

Though TK couldn’t see him he could practically hear the frown in Carlos’s voice. “Sorry?” he asked, “For what?”

“For worrying you,” TK started, “for not being able to make it through a day at work. For not being able to do anything. For being useless.”

“Hey,” Carlos responded firmly, “You are not useless. You are hurt and still recovering. None of this is your fault TK, none of it.”

“Still,” TK pressed on, “you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“And niether should you, but here we are. We’re in this together babe, no matter what.”

TK lifted his head off of the pillow to look at Carlos who was giving him a soft smile. He looked so hopeful TK could hardly stand it, but he appreciated it all the same. “I think I love you,” he said wearily before plopping his head back into the pillow, the sounds of Carlos’s fond chuckle chasing him.

“Well I know I love you,” Carlos assured him, rubbing a comforting hand down his back. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

~

The resident tapped the end of his pen on his clipboard before looking back up at TK. "This could just be post-concussion syndrome but I'm going to page your neurologist given your medical history to see how she thinks your treatment should go."

Carlos looked confused as he turned to the doctor. "What would his medical history have to do with it?"

TK sighed. He’d had this conversation with his neurologist a month ago. The risk of this concussion exacerbating any symptoms from previous injuries that could have had an affect on his brain. "Overdoses. Getting shot. They're worried about permanent brain damage."

“That sounds serious. Why haven’t you brought that up before?”

TK shrugged. “I thought we’d cross that bridge if and when we got to it. No use worrying you about something that no one can control.”

“I’m going to order a CT scan and see whether or not your neurologist wants more tests when she gets here,” the doctor explained before heading back into the main body of the ER.

One CT scan became an MRI, and many more tests and scans. After many hours it was determined that no, TK’s condition hadn’t worsened. It just hadn’t gotten better.

His neurologist had determined that it was likely post-concussion syndrome and discharged him with a few referrals and a prescription for a bunch of new medication that would hopefully ease his symptoms.

Carlos offered him a soft and reassuring smile as he pulled a hoodie over TK’s head.

TK didn’t even bother to put his arms in the sleeves as he gave Carlos a pout. “I want to go home.”

~

TK was used to Carlos’ sixth sense at this point. He should have expected that Carlos would hear him sniffle from all the way downstairs and race up to check on him.

Before TK could even get his thoughts in order, his face was sandwiched between Carlos’ hands as thumbs wiped the tears from his cheeks. He loved Carlos’ eyes, he loved getting lost in their depth, but he didn’t love the way they only ever seemed to look at him with worry nowadays.

“What’s wrong? What hurts?” Carlos asked in a soft voice. He was worried. He always was.

TK closed his eyes and let a few more tears slip free as he drew in a shaky breath. “My head.”

“Get back in bed, sweetheart.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what, TK?”

“This,” TK said, gesturing towards his head. “It’s been five months and it’s not getting any better. I’m sick of being in pain all the time, I’m sick of not being able to work, I’m sick of being a burden on you.”

“Hey,” Carlos breathed, tilting TK’s head up so they were looking at each other. “You’re not a burden. You’re never a burden.”

“I keep making you cancel plans to take care of me. We don’t do anything anymore, you just look at me like I’m going to fall apart if there’s a loud noise or if i go from a dark room into a bright one. Just because my life is ruined, it doesn’t mean that yours has to be too.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like this, but I promise you that I’m never going to want to be anywhere as much as I always want to be by your side. I love you, TK. I don’t care how long this recovery process takes, I’m not going to love you any less.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Never,” Carlos said firmly. “I’m always going to be here to love you. I’m gonna go downstairs and bring up your meds and something to eat, then we can spend the day in bed and try the date tomorrow if you’re up to it.”

TK nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Carlos pressed a kiss to TK’s temple before disappearing back downstairs.

When he returned, Carlos handed TK a handful of assorted pills and a smoothie before sliding under the covers and wrapping his arm around TK’s waist.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“You mean the world to me and I’ll never let you forget that.”

[reyeslonestar]

red snapper boy

Available on Ao3

Uhh hey so this is essentially this post about Carlos being friends with the ‘guy at the market’ expanded into an actual fic. basically Carlos makes friends with everyone and this is about one of them

Carlos Reyes pov, Original Male Character, Carlos Reyes/OC friendship, Slight Angst with a Happy Ending,

 2.9k words

The early morning sunlight shines just above the tops of the stalls that line the marketplace as Carlos meanders through them, picking up groceries from some vendors and stopping to chat to those he isn’t buying from this morning. He always prefers to come here instead of a store; he’d grown up trailing his mother around an open market like this one as she sought the best ingredients for her many delicious recipes, so when he’d grown up and moved out the habit had stuck.

“Ahh, Carlos! How are you this morning, my friend?” Carlos smiles at Juan’s greeting and heads over to the fish counter where rows and rows of colourful scales and fins glitter in their stacks on the crushed ice.

“I’m well, Juan, and you?” Carlos asks. Juan had been the first vendor Carlos had befriended when he’d found this market; the fishmonger had been delighted by the culinary knowledge he’d admitted to when he’d first bought from his stall, and a strong friendship had since grown over the years as they’d traded recipe ideas and kitchen tips.

“I can’t complain,” Juan says cheerfully, plastic-gloved hands resting on the counter in front of him. “Now, what can i get for you? I have some more of that salmon that you liked, or some pollock? We even got some catfish in this morning.”

They spend a few moments chatting, and Carlos gives him his usual order in between catching up on Juan's family news, and the latest of the scandalous gossip that seems to spread around the fishing community like wildfire.

“Anything else for you?” Juan asks, spreading his hands above the fish bar.

“No, I think I’m good today.” Carlos shakes his head. He’s not cooking for his family this week, and there’s only so much food he can eat by himself.

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with this fresh red snapper? Look how strong that colour is, Carlos! Perfect for treating a special someone, eh?” Juan teases, effortlessly showing off both sides of the fish and Carlos chuckles, shaking his head at Juan’s running joke about Carlos’ nonexistent dating life.

“You’re incorrigible, Juan,” he says, “but no, I’ll have to pass.”

“Maybe next time then,” Juan smiles, turning to wrap up the pieces that Carlos has asked for.

“Wait, actually,” Carlos says after a moment, an idea forming in his mind. Maybe there was someone he wanted to cook for, to treat to a special meal.

“Yes?” Juan prompts, looking at him with evident curiosity.

“Yeah, I will take that snapper,” he says before he can backtrack.

Juan raises an eyebrow at the implication that Carlos knows he’s made with their conversation. “Carlos! You haven't been holding out on me, have you? Have you got a boyfriend?” he asks, voice dipping into a mock-scandalised tone on the last word.

“Oh, no, definitely not,” Carlos rushes to correct him, a faint warmth rushing to his cheeks. Whatever he and TK are, they are most certainly not boyfriends. But maybe this could be an opportunity to get to know each other a little better. “I think this would be more of a first date, if it's even anything serious,” he confesses, and Juan grins at him.

“Well, at least you know your date will be well fed,” he jokes, picking up the fish to wrap it with Carlos’ other items. “You must tell me how you find it, I just know it will be delicious.”

Carlos laughs. “Of course, I would expect nothing less from you,” he says and once he’s paid and Juan has finished packing up his order, he waves goodbye and wanders on through the market, already planning sides and a sauce that would go well with snapper.

*

As it turns out, Carlos never finds out whether or not the fish was any good.

The sound of the door slamming behind TK’s back echoes around his head as he slumps into a chair in defeat. While he’d known that TK wasn’t looking for anything serious when they’d started hooking up, he hadn’t quite anticipated that the prospect of an actual date would have him walking out the door less than three minutes after he’d walked in.

Although, Carlos suspects that it was more than just the idea of a date. While TK had seemed reserved when Carlos had seated him at the table and offered him a drink, he would be blind to miss the way TK’s walls had flown up at Carlos’ comment about it ‘not being a marriage proposal’. Whether his own defensiveness that had crept out at that moment had pushed TK away, or something else, Carlos just wishes he knew what he’d done wrong.

He sits motionless for a few minutes, eyes not really taking in what was in front of them until the chimes of his phone fills the room, startling him. Picking it up, he switches off the timer he’d set for the fish and slowly gets to his feet, heartbreak making each of his limbs feel as though they were made of lead. Picking up some oven gloves, Carlos pulls the tray out of the oven and unceremoniously drops it onto the counter, closing his eyes against the delicious smell that filled the kitchen. He hasn’t eaten since the early afternoon when he was still on shift, but despite the prospect of the carefully prepared snapper in front of him, his appetite had vanished out the door with TK. Unable to stand it any longer, he grabs the tray and dumps everything in it into the bin.

*

The next morning Carlos finds himself at the market bright and early, a shopping list courtesy of his mother in his hand. She had sent him the list soon after he’d woken up, knowing he had a day off and could help her out while she was caught up with keeping the family ranch running smoothly. Scanning the list, his stomach sinks as he sees the next items that he needs to get.

His mother needs salmon fillets. Which means talking to Juan.

Carlos really hates his life sometimes.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Juan, but he knows that his friend will want to know about his date, and he’ll want answers that Carlos doesn’t want to face just yet. Carlos also doesn’t want to worry his friend, who’d seen him the last time he’d been rejected, when Carlos’ somewhat fractious relationship between his parents and his sexuality had proved too much of a issue for his ex. That whole fiasco had been a mess that had left Carlos brokenhearted, wondering if anyone was going to stick around long enough to love him.

It was uncomfortably similar to his current emotional turmoil.

Unfortunately, none of that is something he can give as a reason to his mother for why he’s neglected to get all her groceries, so he steels himself and heads over to Juan’s familiar stand.

“Hey Carlos,” Juan greets him, ever cheerful, “I wasn't expecting to see you today - this isn’t when you normally come.”

“Hi Juan,” Carlos forces a smile onto his face, trying to maintain some impression of normality, but it quickly drops. “Just picking up some things for mamá, she’s a bit caught up at home today.”

Juan nods slightly as Carlos gives him his mother’s order and he starts preparing the fish, but Carlos doesn’t miss the way his brow has furrowed at Carlos’ uncharacteristic manner.

“So,” he asks eventually, when Carlos doesn’t offer any conversation, “how was your date? Did you both enjoy the snapper?” His voice is cautious, apparently sensing Carlos’ mood, which plummets even further as guilt floods him at the memory of the fish landing in the bin, untouched and untasted.

“Ahh - well,” Carlos starts, chest tight with the cocktail of foul tasting emotions that are swirling through him. “Yeah, not so great.”

Juan looks up at him, concern filling his features. “What? What happened?”

Carlos shakes his head, not sure how to explain what exactly had happened the night before. “He- I- He didn't exactly stick around long; we didn't actually get to eat the fish,” he eventually admits.

“I guess he wasn’t on the same page I thought we were on,” he continues, “I’m sorry, Juan.”

“What- why are you apologising, Carlos? Fish really isn’t that important - although you are not allowed to quote me on that,” he jokes, making Carlos smile weakly. “I’m sorry my friend, you deserve better than that idiot.”

“No,” Carlos jumps to TK’s defence instinctively. “No, he’s not an idiot, he’s a good man, he’s just- I don’t know, going through some stuff, I think.” In truth, Carlos has no idea what’s going on in TK’s head, but it’s not TK’s fault that Carlos got invested too quickly, and Carlos can take a hint when someone wants him to back off.

Juan frowns. “Still, Carlos, you’re a good man too, and you deserve to be treated with more respect than that.”

“Thanks, Juan,” he says, but he’s not sure he really feels it. “Are those fillets ready?” he adds, changing the subject.

Juan quirks an eyebrow at his lack of subtlety, but doesn’t comment, instead ringing up his order and handing over the fillets.

“Look after yourself, yeah, Carlos?” is all he says, and Carlos nods.

“I’ll see you, Juan,” he says before he leaves, “keep well.”

*

Carlos doesn’t see Juan for a bit. He can hardly seem to grab a morning off from work, meaning Juan’s fish counter is empty by the time he makes it to the market in the afternoons, and as he starts spending more time with TK after their conversation at the police station, his free time seems to vanish. Then the lockdown comes into place and the market closes anyway, so he’s forced to resort to buying food from the store.

TK teases him for his disdain for store-bought quality, but Carlos just tells him to wait until they can go to a market and he can treat him to food made with the freshest ingredients.

Eventually, the markets in Austin reopen and they both have a day off when they’re both prepared to get up early. Or, more accurately, when TK is prepared to get up early, as Carlos tends to be an early riser even when he doesn’t have a shift.

They wander through the stands with their hands entwined, regardless of how inconvenient it becomes to pay for their groceries and fill their shopping bags. Before long, they turn a corner and Carlos spots Juan at his counter.

“Hey Juan,” Carlos calls out to the fishmonger as they walk up to the stand, and the shout of happiness he gets in return makes him grin.

“Carlos! My friend, it’s been too long!”

“It has, I’ve missed you - and your fish,” he jokes, “how’s business been?”

“Ah well, you know, a global pandemic tends to put a damper on things.” Juan shrugs and spreads his arms in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “But I’ve managed - I was running a delivery service for a while but now the market’s are open again things are getting easier.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Carlos says, “and how’s your family?”

“Thank you, and they’re well - we’ve all been okay, thankfully.” A quiet look of relief crosses his face and then his expression turns curious. “Now Carlos, don’t you have some introductions to make?”

Carlos chuckles at Juan’s complete lack of subtlety. “Of course - Juan, this is my boyfriend, TK. TK, this is Juan.”

“Boyfriend huh?” Juan says, studying TK with a steady gaze.

“Hi,” TK says, “Pleased to meet you, Juan.”

Juan turns to Carlos, bluntly ignoring TK’s greetings. “Is this the red snapper boy?” he asks, and Carlos frowns slightly at his cool tone.

“Uh - yes,” he says, not necessarily surprised by the question, but unsure where Juan’s going with it.

“You know something?” Juan turns back to TK, voice inviting no response, “You wasted a damn good fish, boy, but more importantly, you weren't too kind to my friend here.” The displeasure in Juan’s voice causes Carlos’ jaw drops open in shock, but apparently he’s not finished.

“Do you know how long I have been selling Carlos fish? And offering him something interesting each time, waiting for the time that he has someone special to cook for? And you, you are the one that makes him stop and buy my best snapper, and then I find out no one ate it! A waste! A complete waste!” Juan finishes, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Carlos doesn’t know what to say, completely taken aback by Juan’s outburst. He sneaks a look at TK, who seems equally surprised, and his cheeks have turned pink with embarrassment, but he can also see the slightest twitch of amusement playing over his lips and he takes a tiny sigh of relief at the knowledge that he doesn't seem too upset by what just transpired. TK glances at him briefly, warming him with a smile, before turning back to Juan, expression sincere.

“You're right, I did miss out on that fish and I’m sorry to have wasted it. And- yeah, I wasted an evening with Carlos that night.”

The downcast look on TK’s face makes Carlos’ stomach flip uncomfortably. While they hadn’t spoken much about that evening - the unintentional barbs they’d hit each other with were still painful despite the time that had passed - they had discussed it and TK had been apologetic and regretful about the way he’d left. And though they’re now long past it, and he knows that TK loves him more than anything, he also knows TK still feels guilty about hurting him. He squeezes TK’s hand where it’s held in his and when TK glances at him, the momentary sadness on his face is replaced with his lovely smile as he returns the motion, and TK turns back to Juan.

“Will you allow me to make it up to you, and to him? Have you got any red snapper today?” he asks, and Carlos can easily recognise TK’s puppy eyes expression, even when it’s not directed at him.

Juan continues to study TK for a moment, brow still furrowed and Carlos holds his breath, unsure whether TK has succeeded in placating his friend’s outrage. Eventually, though, Juan relaxes with a laugh. “I suppose that might make up for it.”

“Is that okay with you?” TK asks him and Carlos just grins, relieved that he’s not going to have to break up a fight between his unexpectedly protective friend and his boyfriend.

“Sounds good to me, although who’s going to be cooking this, hmm? ‘Cause I don’t think it’s going to be you,” Carlos teases, and TK makes a noise of indignation.

“I can help,” he grumbles, brow wrinkling into a slight scowl. Carlos chuckles and pulls him in gently to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Sure you can,” he says against TK’s lips before pulling back and returning to his surroundings to see an amused expression on Juan’s face.

“Are you two finished?” he asks dryly, one eyebrow cocked as he smirks at Carlos and Carlos can't stop the flush that floods his face. “Alright then, one red snapper for Carlos and his red snapper boy.”

Carlos snorts with laughter, and can’t help but laugh harder at the affronted expression on TK’s face, but soon TK is laughing too, and he looks so beautiful that Carlos can hardly catch his breath. He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice Juan waving the wrapped fish at him until TK steps forward to take it instead. He blushes again at Juan’s evident enjoyment at his distraction and he shifts his feet slightly, unsure what to say.

“Well, enjoy the rest of your day, boys, and I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon,” Juan says, directing the last bit to TK, who nods with a smile.

“Thanks, Juan,” Carlos says, “we’ll see you soon.”

“You’d better, and make sure you don’t waste my fish this time!” He says and they wave goodbye with a laugh.

As they walk away, TK tugs Carlos’ hand slightly until they’re walking as close together as they can without falling over each other.

“So,” he says, “that was interesting.”

Carlos huffs a laugh. “He’s known me a long time. I didn’t realise he was quite so protective of me, though.”

TK hums, eyes on the ground in front of him. “I’m glad you have friends like that. You deserve to have people fighting for you.”

Carlos glances at him, trying to decipher what TK is saying. “I’m glad, too,” he says cautiously, pulling them both to a halt so he can look TK in the eyes.

“You know I’ll do that too?” TK says, voice earnest. “You’re everything to me, Carlos, and I will fight for you every minute of every day.”

“TK…” he breathes, unsure how to cope with this declaration. Part of him already knows this, they’re not shy about sharing how much they care for each other, but it still shocks him every time.

TK smiles, and presses a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

Carlos grins back, giddy with emotion, “I love you too.” TK’s smile broadens.

“Let’s get the rest of these groceries and go home. You’ve got fish to cook.”

“I’ve got fish to cook, huh? Are you not helping anymore?” Carlos teases and TK scoffs.

“You want my help now? I’m needed, am I?”

“I’ll always need you, Ty.”

[trashforhockeyguys]

Don’t Hold Me -6- Carter Hart

A/N: Hey guys, I’m still alive lol. AND DHM IS FINALLY BACK!!! Buckle up my loves, things are finally starting to happen. I’m super excited for where this story is going, and I can’t wait for yall to see it all unfold! 

As always, all previous parts are linked in my master list!

"Y/N, can I move yet?” Nolan asked you. 

“Hang on,” You started to chew on your lip as you continued to draw, “Move your head a little to the right? Yeah! Like that, the shadows are good like that.”

“Sorry Patty, I offered to be a nude model or whatever.”

“Travis shut up. No one wants to see that.”

Travis laughed from the kitchen. For one of your classes, you had to draw a portrait of someone, unfortunately for Nolan, he’d volunteered to sit for one. Although, you knew he didn’t exactly think that this was going to take this long. He thought it would take a few minutes at most, not over an hour.

“Nolan stop laughing! I’m almost done.”

You didn’t even notice that someone else had walked in until a cup of coffee from your favorite place down the road was put in front of you. You didn’t look over your shoulder, you already knew who it was, but you couldn’t help the simple smile that crept across your face. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. 

“Thank you.”

“Woah, she actually said two words to him,” Nolan said in sheer surprise. 

“And they were nice!” Travis added. 

“Shut up. Nolan I swear to god if you move one more time I will beat you with a stick.”

“That looks really good,” Carter said from behind you, ignoring what his teammates were saying. 

You hummed and began to drag your pencil across the page again. You tried not to think about the fact that he was still standing behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence. A small part of your brain started to wonder what it would be like if he just wrapped his arms around you. You almost wanted it. 

You tried to snap yourself out of it. But the longer he was there, the more you wanted to just be closer to him. You had no idea what was going on. This wasn’t like you. You didn’t do things like this. You didn’t need anyone else. 

“For your class?” Carter asked. 

“Yeah. Nolan was a better choice than Travis. At least he can sit still for more than five minutes, and be quiet.”

“Rude,” Travis mumbled.

Your body seemed to almost tingle from how close Carter was to you. You weren’t sure what was happening. You didn't do things like this. You could control everything. But this, this didn’t feel like something you could control. Your body seemed to be taking over from your head.  You didn’t know how to handle this anymore. Everything seemed to be cloudy and unclear now. 

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, okay, done.”

“Yeah? I can eat now?” Nolan asked. 

You weren’t done. You were far from done, but you needed to put space between you and Carter before you did something potentially stupid. All you could think of was getting his arms around you. You wanted to be close to him in a way that you knew was an awful idea. 

“Yeah, go do whatever Nols, I can do the finishing touches without you modeling for me,” You laughed, trying to sound normal again. 

He nodded and moved on. You wanted to go hide now. You wanted to get away from Carter. The buzzing tingly feeling was spreading throughout my whole body. You had no idea what was really going on. All you knew was that you were starting to feel things for Carter that you shouldn’t feel. 

Everything seemed to be blurred now. There were lines you weren’t meant to cross, you knew that, but where were they? What fell into the category of things not to do? Because strangely enough, all you wanted to do now was let yourself sink into Carter’s arms, and just stay there for the rest of the day, and that’s something you absolutely couldn’t do.  

You didn’t want to leave the boys behind, but you also knew that you needed to get some air before your body took over and made you do something you knew would lead to some serious trouble.

“I’m going to go get some food, does anyone want anything?”

“Just sit your little ass down, I’ll make lunch,” Travis told me, pointing to the couch. 

You huffed and plopped back down onto the couch.  Carter was on the other end. Too close for comfort, or maybe not close enough for your body to be comfortable. You couldn’t understand what was going on, how your body was reacting to this. You weren’t meant to like Carter Hart. You’d sworn off hockey players after the last time, that didn’t mean you could just drop everything for Carter. You wouldn’t drop everything for him. You’d figure out how to get yourself to stop feeling whatever you were feeling for him. You weren’t going to do this again. 

“When do you leave for that road trip?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Nolan replied, “We’ll try not to let you get beat to hell, Carter.”

You tried to laugh with them. But the idea of any of them potentially getting hurt made your stomach twist. You hated when they went on road trips because it meant that something might happen and you wouldn’t be there. You weren’t their protector, you knew that. But them being gone also meant they wouldn’t be here for you, should you need them.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Travis said, “We’ll be back before you know it.”

You forced a smile, “Maybe that’s what I’m worried about..”

“Liar,” Travis smiled sadly at you and pulled you in for a hug.

What you didn’t notice was how Carter was looking at you. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should heed TK’s warning and stay away from you, all for your sake. But you had a way of drawing him in, and making him want to know more about you. He wanted to be a part of the close inner circle you’d built with TK and Patty. He couldn’t explain it, he had girls throwing themselves at him all of the time, but for some reason he wanted you. 

The shy girl who hid under baggy sweatshirts and didn’t seem to notice how amazing you could truly be. Everytime he was near you he thought about the night he had to bring you back to his apartment after that stupid party. 

You’d started screaming and crying in your sleep. He’d never tell you that, but he didn’t sleep on the floor of his bedroom because you were getting sick all night. It was because something was haunting you, causing you to wake up screaming. It’d scared the shit out of him. 

He’d automatically called TK and begged him to tell him what to do, or tell him what happened. But TK was quick to tell him that it was your story to share, and if you ever wanted Carter to know, you’d tell him. But that didn’t stop Carter from constantly worrying about the girl in front of him.

“You said you were going to make food,” You mumbled, poking Travis’s stomach. 

“So needy.”

“You’re the one who decided to call me when I moved here,” You pointed out, “Brought this on yourself.”

“Fine,” Travis sighed dramatically, “What do you guys want?”

“Pasta!” You were quick to say, “A big heaping plate of that buttered garlic pasta you make.”

Travis smacked Nolan on his way over to the kitchen, telling him that he needed help. That left you and Carter all alone. You felt uncomfortable, because you didn’t know what to do. You weren’t sure how you were meant to even talk to him. 

Everything just seemed too strange to you now.

“So, how’re classes going?” Carter asked you. 

You shrugged and brought your knees up to your chest, “They’re alright. I’ll be happy when the break rolls around.”

He laughed, “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to the All Star break.”

You nodded. Travis and Nolan talked about how wonderful breaks were all the time. Their schedule was more than grueling, so you knew time off was more than precious for them. If they didn’t go off somewhere tropical to just relax, it was rare that they’d even leave their rooms. 

Even in lower level juniors, your brother always treasured whatever time off he could get. Some of the things all of you would do during breaks were honestly astounding, and probably borderline illegal, but that was years ago.

“I’m sure.”

“You don’t really like hockey, do you?” He suddenly asked you. 

“What? No! I love it.”

“Really? Sorry, you just don’t seem like it.”

You swallowed and tried to plan your reply, “No, I love it. I’ve grown up on it. It’s just my relationship with hockey is…..complicated.”

You felt like you might throw up. Having to explain it felt different. You could watch games just fine now, not that you always liked to watch in person, but you could watch them. You could talk about them, and give Travis shit for hours about things he’d done. But having to explain your reasonings for being why you were the way that you were...it seemed impossible. 

He already saw you differently, you could tell by the way he looked at you. You were sure that he saw you as someone wounded and broken. You didn’t want him to have another reason to see you differently. Carter was one of the few people that didn’t know, and he didn’t need to know. You could keep him in the dark, you would keep him in the dark. 

“I love hockey,” You said again, “I wouldn’t know Travis without it. I love hockey.”

“Okay,” His voice was calm, like he was trying to calm you, “Okay. I’m sorry I asked.”

You tried to blink away the burning feeling in your eyes. You weren’t going to cry. You weren’t going to show how much pain that simple question brought on. Your stomach churned and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it. 

“I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a minute.”

However, rather than going to the hall bathroom, like you normally would. You quickly made your way back into Travis’s bathroom, far enough away from the living room that you wouldn’t be heard. Especially over the sound of Travis and Nolan in the kitchen, and the music they’d put on. 

Without having a chance to try to stop it, you hunched over the toilet and threw up. You were shaking and crying. A simple question, one that no one else would’ve thought twice about. Any normal person would have a smile yes or no answer. You couldn’t answer simply though. Not without opening a door to something you liked to keep locked away.

You loved hockey….you just didn’t love what hockey had done to you.

[ivyglow]

the bigger the secret, the greater the damage | Carter Hart

A/n: I’m not used to finishing my pieces with angst, but I hope this one reaches the expectations. Let me know what you think by sending me a private message or an ask (feedback is always appreciated!). 

Thanks one more time to @guentzgoal​ for proof reading this piece so fast. You’re the best, Tori! <3 

Requested: yes

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: just to love birds dating in secret and fighting about it. 

Prompt: 32. “It just feels really shitty, to be the secret boyfriend/girlfriend.”;  86. “could we pretend that we’re in love?” 88. “i guess i was wrong about you” 

Working for the flyers was probably a dream for any media marketing undergraduate, but it was not a dream for you. Not when your dad was the head coach and made sure to let everyone know it after one month. He could not keep his mouth shut and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. You were each other’s only family and he tried to make sure you knew how much he appreciated you after struggling to accept your career choice during the early months. 

The first few weeks working with the players sometimes consisted of focusing on the databases behind the doors and eventually even going as far as photographing some moments, and you were able to blend in, no different treatment or anything. Well, except for Carter Hart, he treated you differently since the first day and he made sure you knew it.

You liked the transparency, it was nice to not keep worrying if you were reading too much between the lines. But at the same time, you knew better. He and any other player were in the list of things you should never get too close to.

Still, your best reasoning was not able to keep you two apart.

Two weeks later, you two were constantly messaging each other and talking about everything and anything, except for your relationship with his coach. Carter was in the dark about you being the coach’s daughter, and he was mad for some days after discovering with everyone else.

It made sense why you were so private and wanted him to keep it low key. 

It was not only the job, it was the father.

And of course, when Alain finally told everybody his daughter was working there, he also told that no one could lay a finger on you (especially his players).

It was too late, though. He probably should have told Carter sooner.

So the two of you kept talking. You developed a friendship with some other players as well, thanks to TK because he would always joke around about you being the daughter of the boss. But still, they didn’t know about you and Hart, you made him promised not to tell anyone, especially his teammates.

It was three or four months after you guys decided to turn the flirts and make-out sessions into something more serious.

Well, something more serious that wouldn’t involve meeting parents, posting pictures, or changing relationship statuses on social media. It was not quite what Carter was expecting, but still, he had you and you were exclusive and it was enough, or so he thought for some time.

It was a Sunday morning, the sun was creeping through the blinds hitting your face and giving the room a comfortable glow while your boyfriend watched you sleep beside him. Carter was used to the early morning practices, they were the reason why he was always the first to wake up, spending his time cooking breakfast, or just enjoying your company. Today was the latter.

He watched as soft snores came out of your slightly open mouth. You were holding him by his arm and even though the relationship was recent, it was long enough to Carter know some of your manners, he was very attentive when it comes to you. You were holding him not only for the warmth of his body but because you were used to sleeping holding something to. It went as far as when he wasn’t there, you would eventually cuddle a pillow that he mockingly dressed in one of his Flyers away jerseys.

You liked the routine you two created together, and yes sometimes you missed doing normal couple things like walking hand-in-hand or kissing without worrying if someone was around, but you had him and you feared that if things changed, your relationship would change, too, but for the worse.

Carter smiles softly at the faces you’re doing in your deep sleep and you stirred with the click of the camera, but his chest felt so comfortable against your arm and his muscles were in the best position next to your face. You could lay there forever.

And you did, not forever but as long as possible before you felt his stomach grumble in your hand that was laying flatly against his abs.

“Babe, as much as I would love to just chill in bed with you I really need some food” his voice was raspy, but not too much and that’s how you knew he was awake longer than you had imagined. You throw your body lazily on top of his searching for more warmth and lazily asking him for some stimulus.

His mouth was fast to found his favorite spot on your neck, close to your ear, the same spot that sends shivers through your whole body. He dragged his lips until they met your jaw seconds after.

“Wakey wakey, c’mon” he mumbled, hands gripping your waist.

You ignore his calls, choosing to get comfortable on that spot. “Alright, I’m posting this really cute picture and I thought you would want to help me with the filter since it’s you gripping me in your sleep…”

You jerked, almost falling off the bed.

“What picture?” Your heart racing, the image of your father discovering about your relationship with one of his players suddenly clouding your head.

Carter seemed to sense your uneasiness, “Hey, relax, I’m not posting it…” his forefinger found your chin guiding your face to his so it was easier to read what you were feeling.

“I’m sorry, Hartsy, it’s just nobody...we can’t let them discover...at least not like that…” you try to explain, the words suddenly vanishing.

The way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed a thin line you knew he was hurt. Carter wanted to tell everyone since the very first time, he wanted the whole relationship experience, he wanted to tell everyone how cute you were while sleeping, or how he cooked better than you, he wanted to post pictures of you two and comment in each one you posted. He had so many pictures of you. And he had small videos of you doing mundane things such as singing along your favorite song while driving and eating your favorite ice cream.

“It just feels really shitty, to be the secret boyfriend.”

“I get it, but you know I truly like you, right?” this time you were the one to bring his face to yours. You felt a pang in your heart with how his eyes looked everywhere before finally settling on your face.

He nodded, almost saying that he was tired, that he wanted someone real, something real. But it just took your lips to found his for him to give up the idea.

He didn’t want to give you an ultimatum, but he also did not want to keep getting hurt. 

You two lay there for a few more minutes in silence while Carter’s mind worked on overthinking the situation.

“My mom’s coming to town next month…” he started once your fingers found his hair, massaging his scalp lightly, “I was wondering if you wanna meet her.”

You stopped your movements for some seconds before his question settled. “Meet your mother?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds...a big step. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just...I don’t know, Carter…” you trailed off. Meeting the parents was a step you were not sure about, first, you wanted to deal with your own father, and that’s the answer you gave him, “I kind of wanted to have a talk with my father before taking this step.”

His silence told you a message, loud and clear. And before you could try sugar coat it, the pang on your front door caught your attention.

You grabbed your robe and left the bed after giving Carter a peck. The walk to your front door took you less than one minute and once you reached it you regretted doing it so fast.

“Hey, dad!” the high pitched tone made your dad look at you, a confused expression on his face.

“Hey, y/n, you were still in bed?” Alain entered the house discarding his shoes at the entrance and heading to the sofa.

“I went to sleep late last night…” you told him before sitting on the other end of the couch. “I was working on some essays…” well, now you lied. You went to sleep late because that’s what happens when you and your secret boyfriend have the next day free.

Your father gives you a pointed look and you answered with a small smile, before bowing your head to pick with the nail polish that was almost disappearing on your nails. 

“Is there something you wanna tell me?” he asked suddenly and you cursed silently.

Alain knew you better than your mom did, he knew your traits and how you used to act when you were either nervous or trying to keep something. He wasn’t home very often in your childhood, but the time he could make it, he made sure to take the better out of it. He was attentive off the ice too.

“Nah, there’s nothing, dad. I’m just...exhausted.”

“Y/n, I’m your father…”

“I’m aware of that…” you mumbled sarcastically with a light tone before chuckling. He rolled his eyes.

“I was talking with your mom last night…” he started and you cursed again, cause when they teamed up to make you do something, it usually worked, like the time you did not want to go to the doctor after two days of high fever or when you wanted a cat but they both didn’t. “And she thinks you’re dating someone.”

They were a good team indeed.

And you thought it was cool that they weren’t together anymore, but they still talked like old friends.

“What?” you chided suddenly scared of what he was thinking. What if he wandered through your small apartment? It wouldn’t take much for him to find Carter. 

“Yeah, she heard someone last time she called you and she also said you seemed to be at the clouds with distraction.” 

A groan left your mouth and you got up, “I hate how mom’s always thinking that I’m dating someone. You know how I act when I like someone, dad, and I don’t like someone right now” you started your rant, “See, she probably heard this boy I was seeing for some months, we met at my first workplace, but it wasn’t nothing serious. The last thing I want right now is a relationship.” You were so caught up into making your father give up on the idea that you were dating you didn’t see Carter standing behind the door to the hallway, “and, to be honest, you know if it was something serious I would have told you by now. Have I told you something? Have I mentioned someone to you, dad?” 

He seems to study your face for some seconds before making an unexpected turn, “You do remember we made a promise of not dating any of my players, right?” 

You sight before nodding your head.

“This boy...was it really from your old job?” 

You nod again. You couldn’t risk losing your father’s trust and you couldn’t go back to live with your mom, he was ok with everything and he meant it, everything but dating his players. It was important to him and you promised you wouldn’t do it. Alain was your only family on this side of the country. It was him or going to France with your mother. 

“Dad, you know me when I’m in love. You remember Trevor when I was in middle school?! Or Dennis from our beach house...Do I look like I used to when I was head over heels for them?” Your question was answered with a chuckle, you were obsessed with these two boys. Trevor was the first boy you liked, you remember writing about him in your diary every day, and then Dennis came during a summer in high school, he was tall and very cute and you loved his dark hair. 

“I guess you have a point, y/n,” he said finally, “I just came to see if you want to grab dinner tonight. I was expecting to grab lunch, but I supposed you didn’t even have breakfast yet…” his light tone says everything’s alright and you relax tossing your body on the couch.

“I’m sorry, dad. But dinner sounds perfect,” you wondered. 

“Great, I need to go now. I’ll find someone else to have lunch with” he dropped a kiss against your forehead and you giggled with his words.

“You should get a girlfriend” you joke before he reaches the door. 

“Yeah, who knows…” 

You groaned, before getting up in minds of going back to bed, but Carter was already in your living room with one big step. You felt the blood drain from your face.

The evident look of hurt on his eyes. 

“Harsty,” you try to start but he just shook his head. 

“I knew I liked you more than you liked me, but I didn’t think you thought so little of me…” the way his hands were on his sweatpants pockets and his eyebrows furrowed, his whole body language screaming that he was hurt and it was on you. Your fault. 

“No! That was me trying to keep us from getting caught.”

“You’re the one with this damn idea that we should keep it all in secret. You had the perfect chance to simply come clean and tell him everything, but you chose to lie...well, tell him half of the truth, considering you don’t like me the way I thought you did.” 

Your eyes were watering and you tried to reach him, touch him, reassure him that it wasn’t as bad as you made it seem to your dad minutes ago. This time Carter didn’t back down and so you held him by his large shoulders, trying to catch his eyes, trying to make him see that it wasn’t your intention. 

“Could we pretend that we’re in love?” he whispered, his tone so small if you weren’t so close you would never hear. “Can you treat me like this Dennis or Trevor guy just for once...cause I guess I was wrong about you.” 

You stutter, the words getting stuck, your stomach low on your belly and before you could get yourself together he slips through your fingers. 

“You don’t have to worry about keeping it away from everyone, there’s no secret to keep anymore. I’m done. We’re done.” 

 You can find more of my writing here. 

[spaceskam]

prompt from @orlamcsupercool: malex and 5 for the sensory prompts! 5. Trying to walk on ice sensory prompts

ao3

“Alex.”

“No, go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere, will you just grab my hand?”

There were probably more than a few reasons why one should not agree to travel to Canada on an mission with an ex-boyfriend who happened to be able to obtain two fake passports with fake names within a day’s notice, but Michael was never known for being reasonable. A few whispered talks about a secret, small US embassy in Canada that was specifically there to track alien artifacts that were found in the country. It was much easier to obtain them when it was official government business worthy of an unlisted location.

Alex found that location though and they were going to sneak in, but first they had to handle the fact that they’d spent too much time together in an enclosed car. The first 20 hour of the drive had been fine. But then sharing a motel room has stirred up some thoughts and feelings that were the epitome of wrong place, wrong time. The rest of the drive had been awkward and uncomfortable because neither of them knew how to just say ‘I love you, trust me’. It was so much easier to just be assholes.

But now Alex was stuck, unable to walk on the ice that covered the ground within the half mile surrounding that secret embassy. His prosthetic had an air pocket which he noticed when they got out of the car, but he said he'd been fine and didn't need to fix it. Now they were walking on what was apparently an iced over lake in the dark and he couldn't take a step without risking falling to his face. It definitely presented a problem.

Which, you know, would've been a lot easier to handle if this wasn't the biggest fucking metaphor in the world.

"I know you're mad at me, but grab my hand," Michael told him, "Or let me use my TK to help you. Fucking let me help you for once."

"No!" Alex said, on the verge of tears now. Michael wasn't stupid enough to think it was all because of the fact he felt helpless on the ice. "I don't need your help!"

"Oh, you don't? So you want me to leave you here to get questioned by government officials by yourself?" Michael asked. Alex sniffled and nodded, his features lit only by the moon. He looked fucking gorgeous despite the stubborn crease in his brow and the tears in his eyes.

"Yes," Alex said sternly, "I would rather be fucking held as a POW than let you help me."

Michael sighed, raking frustrated hands through his hair. They were here on borrowed time, a 30 minute window during shift change where people were off their game. They were running out of time.

Stupidly, his mind went back to the night before spent in the motel. They'd been sitting on the floor, eating pizza and talking about life and feeling completely normal. Michael had been unable to stop smiling because it was such a novelty to steal a few hours where they could pretend they were just two guys. No abusive parents, no foster homes, no alien conspiracy, no secrets. Just two guys with pizza and a shared hatred of the ending of How I Met Your Mother.

It was the most they'd bonded in forever and Michael had felt himself fall in love with his man all over again. Which was awesome and exhilarating all the way up until Alex had gone in for a kiss, confident as ever, and Michael had rejected him. He only did that because he was determined not to let history repeat itself with them, but Alex had taken it as a final act of rejection and that it was sufficiently over forever and Michael had been fucking with his feelings. Which, honestly, was a fair conclusion given their history.

But still. It wasn't the case and Michael felt like he'd waited too long to explain. Now would particularly be a horrible time to try.

He checked his watch.

"Alex, we have less than 10 minutes. We need to go back to the car and go stay at a motel, we can come back tomorrow," Michael told him. Alex took a steadying breath.

"I came here to get that damn piece and I'm getting it tonight," he said stubbornly. Michael's eyes bulged out of his face.

"Alex, we are out of time," Michael said slowly, "We're going to get caught and then we're both fucked."

"I don't want to be alone with you for longer than I have to," Alex shot back. Michael ignored the way that stung.

"Fine, I'll sleep in the truck and leave you alone, just please. Please let me help you."

They stared at each other in debate for too long, wasting too many seconds.

Then Alex tried to take a step forward, focusing so hard, and yet he still lost his footing due to lack of sensation on his prosthetic leg. Michael caught him before he went down completely, holding him up. Alex stared at the ground between them.

"Let go," he whispered.

"I'm not letting go of you, Alex," Michael told him, softer than it needed to be and carrying more weight than it should. Alex's fingers dug into Michael's forearms and he shook his head.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked quietly, his voice cracking. Michael held back the urge to pull him into a hug. They needed to get out of here.

"Can you please wait for the answer to that question until after I help you out of here? 'Cause I swear it's a good answer. I think you'll like it," he promised, looking away from Alex just long enough to make sure no one was anywhere near them. "Trust me just enough to get us out of here, okay? Military guys are people well known for packing a gun and I'm not trying to get shot for being on their property."

"I'm packing," Alex told him. Michael managed a smile.

"Yeah, I know you are," Michael said, rubbing his hand up and down his arm, "You wanna get on my back or do you have a better idea on how to get out of here?"

Alex looked up at him slowly, clearly hesitant to let him help. Eventually, though, he let Michael help him onto his back and then, with a little assistance from his telekinesis to keep them upright on the ice, he started running.

As he started running, he started brainstorming of ways to make Alex feel better about the situation. He knew Alex and he knew he hated feeling helpless, but he was coming up blank. It was just something they'd have to deal with.

They got to the truck and he let Alex take the driver's seat, hurriedly trying to get off the premises before anyone noticed how close they were. After Michael caught his breath, he turned to Alex who still had those angry, frustrated eyebrows in full force.

"Thank you," he said.

"I didn't fucking do anything," Alex said.

"Thank you for putting our safety over your pride," Michael told him, smiling slightly as his face relaxed just a little, "And, more importantly, I love you."

Alex seemed to freeze despite the fact he was still driving, his eyes going wide in shock.

"Even though you're a stubborn asshole who's pride is probably gonna get me killed one day, I love you," Michael went on, "I am actually extremely in love with you to the point that I want to keep my hands off of you until we talk about all the little details so that I don't fuck up again. Which is what I would've told you last night if you would've let me."

"I..."

"You're so fucking stubborn and infuriating, but you're strong and resilient I love you for it and I'm tired of not telling you," Michael said, leaning over the center console. He pressed a kiss to the side of Alex's head, holding the other side of his head with his hand. "That's why I'm doing this to you. My answer good enough?"

Alex sat there for a moment, opening and closing his mouth and his eyebrows doing all sorts of things as he tried to piece together what he was hearing.

“No,” Alex said eventually, “No, it is not good enough, you asshole!”

Michael grinned at that, grazing his nails against the side of his head that his hand was still holding. He tilted his head into the headrest.

“I love you.”

“You’re so fucked for leaving me thinking you hated me for a whole day!”

“I love you.”

“And you’re such an asshole for keeping that to yourself.”

“I love you.”

“God forbid we actually could’ve gotten caught and then I would’ve spent that whole time thinking you didn’t! You’re supposed to clear the air before the dangerous mission!”

“Alex,” Michael laughed, still gently scratching his scalp, “I love you. We’re not dead, we’re safe, and, if you want, I will spend the rest of the night in the motel fucking the anger out of you.”

Alex took his eyes away from the road just long enough to glare at him. Michael still smiled.

“I got you. I’m never gonna let you fall or get hurt or get caught, not if I can help it. Because I love you. So tomorrow night when we come back, let’s anticipate for you not being able to walk on the ice and work around it, okay?” he said. Alex nodded, blowing out a long breath from his nose.

“I’m so annoyed with you right now,” Alex said, “But fine. I trust you and you’re right.”

“And you love me,” Michael prodded. Alex rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide the smile from his face.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “And I love you.”

[reyescarlos]

sanctuary || a tarlos fic

chapter 2/3 read on ao3

It’s been one month since TK packed up his life and headed to Austin for a fresh start. In a new city, he struggles with between defeating old demons and reinventing himself. On a night when he feels close to falling through the cracks, he meets Officer Carlos Reyes, a man who could very well be his salvation.

Two days of casual texting since running into Carlos earlier in the week has led TK to trying out what Carlos promises to be the best meal he’ll ever have. It’s a pretty tall order but TK is more than willing to test out Carlos’ theory. After all, it means actual face to face time with the man he’s quite eager to know better.

Carlos steps up to the truck and begins talking with the staff in Spanish, conversing and placing their orders. TK’s understanding of the language goes as far as twelfth grade and even still, he barely remembers much aside from the basics. He’s only able to piece together a few bits here and there. Regardless, it doesn’t take much for him to see that Carlos is truly a regular at this truck and that the staff genuinely likes him. That doesn’t come as a surprise to TK. Carlos is kindhearted and people like that tend to draw in others like the sun.

As they wait for their order, TK takes in the area around him, the sights, the sounds, and of course the smells. His stomach is practically doing flips and growling the longer he stands around breathing in the delicious smells of meat and peppers and whatever else is being made inside each neighboring truck.

“Come here often?” he muses, using the cheesy pickup line to kick off conversation.

Carlos laughs and nods. “Yeah, it’s my absolute favorite in all of Travis County. It might actually be better than my tía Lucy’s. But if you ever tell her I said that, I will have no other choice but to lie and say I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

TK mimes zipping his lips, tossing away the imaginary key for good measure. “Your secret’s safe with me, I promise.”

Carlos is about to speak when one of the ladies inside the truck calls his name. He turns and heads back to the truck, thanking her and taking the food she hands over. TK spots an empty bench and hurries over to it, taking a seat, Carlos sitting right across from him a few seconds later.

“God, this smells amazing,” TK notes, unwrapping his burrito from its foil and taking a considerable bite. He stifles a moan but doesn’t shy away from tossing his head back. “Holy shit, that’s incredible.”

Carlos laughs at the theatrics. “Like I said, hands down the best in town.”

“I definitely have to come back here soon. Is tomorrow too sudden?” he jokes.

They fall into a comfortable silence as they eat. Every now and then he looks over at Carlos and on some instances, he finds the other man glancing at him too.

“So, what is that you do?” Carlos asks conversationally after a time.

TK licks his lips, pulling in the lower one. It’s a harmless question, in general, but for TK it’s actually a loaded one. When making the move down to Austin, he also made the tough decision not to hop back into work. The time for himself is certainly needed but it makes him anxious thinking about having to explain why he isn’t currently part of the 126.

“I’m a firefighter. Or I was. I’m taking a bit of a break right now,” he finally settles on. It’s a half truth as he hasn’t fully explained but the last thing he wants is to unload all his drama on a man he’s only just met a few days ago.

Carlos considers his words and nods, dipping one of his chips into salsa. TK prepares himself for an onslaught of follow-up questions but they never come. Instead, Carlos gives a response he wasn’t expecting at all.

“I can understand that,” he says, popping the chip into his mouth and making quick work of finishing it off before he speaks again. “What we do isn’t easy. Sometimes you need to take time to recharge before heading back out there again. In order to really help others, we have to be at our best.”

TK can only stare at him. He was so sure Carlos was going to hound him with questions about what prompted the break but instead he opted not to pry at all. TK wasn’t used to that sort of thing. Most people would make it their personal mission to find out the details but not Carlos. Relief soon washes over TK.

“Yeah, definitely. I plan on getting back into the swing of things soon, though. Until then, I just live vicariously through my dad. He’s the new captain over at the 126. Whenever I’m ready, I’ll be working alongside him.”

A part of TK is chomping at the bit to get back to his old routine but he knows he still needs a bit more time to feel as if he’s standing on solid, stable ground again.

“Wait, seriously? My best friend is the EMS captain there.”

“Michelle Blake? No way, I’ve met her a few times. She seems pretty great.”

Carlos nods enthusiastically and laughs. “Damn, maybe you’re right and this town really is too small,” he muses, TK not missing the reference back to their conversation outside the boba shop.

“See? Six degrees of separation is too high of a count for this place.”

Carlos tosses a chip at him but TK is fast and swats it down to the table.

“Jerk. Is that any way to treat your new friend? You wouldn’t want to go giving me the wrong impression of your precious Austin, now would you?”

Carlos makes a face and it’s undoubtedly one of the cutest things TK has ever seen.

“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

“Oh, man,” TK laughs, “you have no idea.”

~*~*~

At lunch, TK finds himself incapable of looking away from his screen. He and Carlos have been chatting since morning with Carlos sending him updates and random pictures of odd things he sees while out shopping with his aunt Lucy. TK has seen everything from ridiculous items for sale at a thrift store to Carlos frowning in a chair with Lucy’s purse on his lap, reflected in the store’s mirror while his aunt is in the changing room. This most recent image is instantly followed with a text reading “SOS!”

TK grins at his phone, zooming in on Carlos’ face. The furrowed brows, the pleading brown eyes, the pout. It’s almost too much for him to handle.

“Earth to TK. Are you with me here, bud?” Owen says.

TK snaps his head upward, finally tearing his eyes away from his phone. “What’s that now?”

Owen shakes his head and laughs, lightly kicking at his leg. “My god, where is your head today?”

TK smiles bashfully and shakes his head. “Right here on my shoulders.”

“Could have fooled me. I could have sworn I saw it floating in the clouds. What’s going on with you?”

TK opens his mouth to speak but closes it back, shifting in his seat to turn to face his father. Try as he might, TK cannot erase the wide smile that breaks across his lips the second he looks at him, his thoughts already filling up so deeply with images of Carlos’ face. A part of him feels silly for being this caught up with someone he’s just befriended but he and Carlos have spoken every day for the last two weeks. Carlos is truly his first and last thought each day. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all in one breath just how much they’ve grown close to each other. It leaves TK’s head spinning.

“You met someone, didn’t you?” Owen says, his grin mirroring his son’s perfectly.

“Wow, you beat me to it.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t exactly a hard guess to make. Tell me all about him.”

TK draws in a deep breath to collect himself. “His name is Carlos and he is…kind of unreal,” he laughs. He can feel his cheeks warming up. “I don’t know. We talk all the time and it’s just…nice? Normal. It’s good to have a friend in this city.”

“A friend, hmm.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Owen holds up his hands, letting out a playful laugh. “Nothing, nothing. Friends are great to have but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this worked up over one before.”

“Yeah, well, Carlos is a special friend. It’s different with him.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” his father says, lifting his brows.

“Seriously, it’s not like that. At least it can’t be right now.”

Owen’s smile fades from his face as he looks at his son and TK can feel a sinking sensation in his chest. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a less than platonic pull towards Carlos but the man knew nothing of his last relationship and the major impact it had on him. There were still so many secrets, ugly truths that TK hadn’t shared yet and was, truthfully, terrified to ever do so. Things with Carlos were light and carefree. For someone like TK who had been living so long with a darkness in him, he wanted to preserve this kind of joy for as long as possible. He thought perhaps it made him selfish to a certain degree but he couldn’t help it. For the first time in over a month, he felt weightless. A feeling like that was too rare and he was in no position to pass it up.

“Why do you say that?”

TK scoffs and shakes his head. “Come on, dad. We both know why we’re down here in the first place. Look at what happened the last time I fell hard for someone.”

“But look at how far you’ve come since then,” his father counters. “Look, you may have a real chance at something great here, whatever it may be. It’s been over a month now, TK. I think it’s time you start taking some wins. You’ve more than earned them. I haven’t seen you this happy in ages.”

TK swallows the lump in his throat, the guilt that rises like bile. His life and actions didn’t only have consequences he had to face. While he knew his father didn’t hold it against him, TK couldn’t help but to feel responsible for them upending their lives and moving away from home.

“I don’t want to wreck this. Carlos is a good guy. Genuinely good, you know? I don’t want to mess that up or put anything bad on him. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Owen searches his face but TK can’t bear it and looks away, back to his plate.

“Tell me about him. How’d you two even meet?”

TK hesitates, fumbling with his fork and turning it over in his hand. He still hasn’t mentioned his panic attack out on the bridge that night. After all, he’d returned home in a better mood than when he left and had been fine in the weeks since so it didn’t seem like something worth mentioning or making his father concerned over. But now, being asked so plainly about how he met Carlos, it feels like something he needs to disclose. TK was skilled at hiding things but he made a vow to himself on the plane ride from JFK to Austin-Bergstrom Airport that he’d truly turn over a new leaf and maintain transparency with his father going forward.

He licks his lips and clears his throat before speaking, avoiding his father’s gaze until he finally speaks.

“When I went out running a few weeks back, I sort of…had a moment. My head was kinda all over the place and I needed a break.”

Owen shifts in his seat, his eyes glued on his son. It was such a bittersweet thing having a father that cared so much at times. On one hand, TK was comforted in knowing that his dad was always willing to listen but on the other, it made him dread his father hearing all the less than pleasant things he had to say from time to time.

“What do you mean?”

TK sets his fork down. “I don’t know. I was thinking a lot about Alex and it just got to feel like too much so I stopped out on the bridge to get myself together.”

“TK—”

“God, no! Not like that. Sorry.” TK sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “It just so happened that I stopped there. I swear, dad. Anyway, clearly it looked troubling because Carlos was on duty and he came up to me to make sure everything was alright. He got called away to an active B&E and I thought that was the last time I’d see him. But literally the next day, after group, we bumped into each other downtown and exchanged numbers.”

Owen settles back against his seat, his fingers splayed on the dining room table. TK watches the parade of emotions that flit across his father’s face from fear to uncertainty to controlled hurt.

“I should have told you more about that night,” TK admits. “I just didn’t want you to worry. I’m so tired of making you worry.”

Owen places a hand on TK’s shoulder and gives it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Whether you tell me everything or not, I’m always going to worry. That just comes with the gig of being a dad. But what makes it easier is if we’re on the same page at all times.”

TK meets his father’s gaze and nods, worrying his bottom lip. Owen sighs softly and drops his hand, trading a concerned look for a warm smile.

“So, Carlos is a cop. What an interesting first responder pair you guys make,” he teases.

TK is glad for the joke as it alleviates some of the tension in his chest. He laughs and rolls his eyes.

“It’s crazy; what are the odds, right?”

Something warm glints in his father’s eyes and TK is almost moved to tears because of it. He can admit he’s been particularly hard on himself over the last month and a half, so convinced that he shouldn’t even allow himself to move on from Alex. He feared he wasn’t ready and that he couldn’t be trusted. But already, in such a short time, he was willing to give a part of himself to Carlos. He didn’t stand much of a chance, in truth. He couldn’t imagine a single person who wouldn’t be disarmed by the other man.

Owen searches his face for a moment as TK focuses back on their conversation.

“Looks like the tide’s starting to turn for you down here in Austin; things are really picking up. Maybe meeting Carlos is just the thing to make you more comfortable.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he parrots. I hope, he thinks.

~*~*~

The next day TK is in his room folding laundry when his phone lights up on his bed. TK cranes his neck to read the text from Carlos.

Hey, you busy tonight?

TK puts down the shirt in his hand and grabs his phone to reply, seeing that Carlos is already typing out another message to him. He waits for it to come in.

If you are, feel free to ignore me. I know it’s kind of short notice to be making plans.

TK can only roll his eyes to this. How many times and how many ways does he have to show Carlos he has nothing else going on in the Austin? And even if he did, Carlos would always be the better option; any plans he may have had could easily be tossed to the backburner.

Ah, yes, let me check my oh so busy schedule. Please hold.

A few seconds later he sends:

Hmm, sitting around the house doing nothing. Online shopping. Scrolling through social media right before bed...yeah, sorry. Booked solid for the evening, I’m afraid

He takes a moment to appreciate his own humor before his phone is vibrating with an incoming call from Carlos.

“How may I help you?” he greets.

“Do you make it your mission every day to be a pain in the neck?” Carlos’ voice is so light and teasing it makes TK’s heart clench in his chest. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to the way they complement each other so perfectly.

“We all have special skills in life. One of mine just happens to be pushing your buttons, what can I say?”

Carlos groans and sighs. “What have I gotten myself into?” There’s no bite to it. If anything, TK can practically see the smile he knows is painted on Carlos’ lips right now.

“I told you there was no going back. So, what’s going on tonight?”

“Ah, right. I thought we could hang out and I could take you to one of my favorite bars downtown.”

TK’s shoulders stiffen at the mention of a bar. He hasn’t stepped foot in one in what feels like forever. He knows he isn’t obligated to drink and that Carlos probably wouldn’t even notice or care if he didn’t indulge. It’s just been easier to eliminate the temptation by steering clear altogether. But a Friday night out with Carlos isn’t something he can shy away from, especially not when Carlos sounds excited to share something special to him.

“Yeah, I could go for that,” he replies.

“Yeah? Great. I’ll text you the address and we could meet up around 9 or so. I hope you’re ready for some dancing.”

“Is this going to be a hoedown? A real, genuine Texan hoedown?”

Carlos’ laugh is strong and clear. TK feels like patting himself on the back for job well done. His favorite thing these last two weeks has been making that sound come about. It does something to his heart to know that Carlos is happy, mainly because of him.

“Yup. I’m looking forward to seeing your moves, New York.”

“I won’t disappoint. I can promise you that much.”

“I never had a doubt.”

TK opens his mouth to reply but can’t. His heart is racing and all he can picture is the two of them out on the dance floor, moving together. It’s an image that lays down roots in his mind and grows so large it’s all he can see.

“Damn, I have to get back to work but I’ll see you tonight, alright?” Carlos says, bringing TK back to the present moment. “I’ll send you the address in just a minute. See ya.”

The call ends before TK can even get a word out but he figures that’s for the best. Carlos has managed to stun him into silence, a feat not many people are capable of.

So maybe his budding friendship is proving to have more weight to it than he wants it to. All the telltale signs of a crush are there, regardless of if TK is ready for them to be or not. It’s not as if he had much of a choice, he reasons. Right from the start Carlos caught his eye and every day that they’ve spoken since has only served to strengthen that. The other man would make such offhanded remarks but TK had to wonder if Carlos was even aware or if it just came by so naturally that he truly didn’t notice. TK wasn’t sure which he preferred.

If Carlos wasn’t being intentional in his flirting, then they were truly just friends and he could be okay with that. Simply having someone to talk to so frequently that wasn’t related to him was a major win. But if there was some sort of hidden code behind his words, TK was almost nervous about uncovering it. In a life post-Alex, he hadn’t been prepared for the possibility of meeting someone he could actually see himself with. But maybe he was alone in thinking there was even something here. And that, TK knew above anything else, was the worst conclusion of all.

~*~*~

“I don’t know what I was expecting but this wasn’t it,” TK says as he and Carlos enter the bar.

“Maybe you’ve seen too many movies? It’s clouding your judgement.” Carlos bumps his shoulder lightly against TK’s arm.

“You might have a point there.”

It’s a lively night and the place is comfortably filled with people already out on the dance floor, moving along to the music being played by a live band in the corner. TK stays close to Carlos’ side even though the place isn’t that crowded and they aren’t likely to get separated. But Carlos doesn’t seem bothered by their proximity. He merely throws a warm smile over his shoulder at him as he leads them to the bar and TK does his best not to melt right there on the spot.

“What are you drinking?” Carlos asks, holding up his fingers to signal the bartender.

“I’m good with mineral water for now,” he replies casually, his eyes fixed on Carlos to see his reaction but the man simply nods and orders for them when the bartender comes over, opening a tab.

If there’s one thing TK has been learning about Carlos these last few weeks is that he doesn’t push in the way virtually everyone else he knows would have. TK appreciates that more than he’ll probably ever be able to express to Carlos.

He takes the glass Carlos hands him, slick with condensation and thanks him. TK is unable to pull his eyes away from Carlos’ mouth as it takes a sip from his beer bottle, his throat going a little dry. He soothes it with a swig of his mineral water and averts his gaze and instead focuses on something safer like the crowd of people dancing. The music becomes a bit more folky and the footwork a bit more intricate but TK is fairly confident he can follow along easily enough.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Carlos says, forcing TK to glance back at him.

“What? About me dancing? Pfft, I can hold my own out there.”

Carlos eyes him from top to bottom and back again. It’s such a simple move and yet it makes TK’s skin tingle to be held in his gaze. Not for the first time since meeting Carlos, he wonders what the man thinks when he looks at him. Smugly, he hopes Carlos feels the energy between them too. Surely, he does, TK reasons. There was nothing casual about that look just now.

“Alright, let’s see it then.” Carlos downs the rest of his beer and sets it down on the bar. TK follows suit, finishing off his drink in kind.

He isn’t expecting Carlos to reach for his hand but he gives it up willingly, feeling warmth course through him that has absolutely nothing to do with being surrounded by people. Carlos leads them right to the center of the dance floor, a large smile on his face. He doesn’t waste a single second in falling into line with everyone else. TK does his best, trying hard not to look at his feet. That’d be a dead giveaway that line dancing is kind of a foreign concept to him. He manages well enough after a few seconds.

“There you go,” Carlos encourages.

TK can’t take his eyes off him. There’s something just so alluring about watching Carlos move freely, completely at ease and assured in his movements.

They keep dancing for a while, TK relaxing into it and matching Carlos beat for beat. The music eventually changes to something slower, couples remaining on the dancefloor and settling in close to each other. TK looks around at everyone before glancing to Carlos who gives him a questioning look. TK gives a small smile, silent confirmation that he doesn’t mind having this dance with Carlos. He keeps his eyes on Carlos’ face, trying to decipher the expression in them. It’s like he can see it all in real time, Carlos making the decision to try for something a little more. The man brings his face closer but TK stiffens in his hold and takes a step back.

“I think I’m gonna get some air. Just a sec,” he says, pursing his lips and walking off.

He’s cursing himself for panicking and being a coward. The most frustrating thing is knowing that had he been in a different place mentally, he absolutely would have followed through on kissing Carlos. He’s spent a fair bit of time over the last two weeks picturing what that would feel like. Here it was now the opportunity was presenting itself and TK’s initial reaction was to run.

He stands outside of the bar, leaning against the building with his eyes closed, replaying the exchange over and over.

“Do you just want to get out of here?” he hears Carlos say. When he opens his eyes, Carlos is standing right in front of him, his face unreadable. “We could go for a drive, if that’s alright with you.”

TK pulls in a breath and nods. What he wants to do is apologize a million times and let Carlos know that none of this is his fault. Carlos is truly perfect, almost scarily so as far as TK is concerned. He can barely take the shift in Carlos’ mood. Not even five minutes ago the man was smiling brightly. Now he looked unsure and uneasy, all because of TK. If he could have even a minute to explain, TK would be grateful. A car ride with just the two of them was ideal.

Carlos nods too and leads the way over to his car, the two of them climbing inside. Neither of them says a word as Carlos brings the car to life and begins to drive. TK knows he should be the one to break the silence but his thoughts are a riot in his mind and nothing makes sense. Every time he starts to form a sentence in his head, the words don’t sound right. Carlos keeps driving, eventually coming up to an empty area.

He stops the car and looks over at TK. In his eyes is fear and concern, so much so that TK feels guilty, already able to see that Carlos blames himself for the awkwardness earlier. It’s so incorrect and misdirected but Carlos is already speaking before TK can even dispel the man’s thoughts.

“I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Carlos’ chest rises and falls heavily. TK isn’t used to seeing him uneasy and it doesn’t sit well.

“God, Carlos, no. You didn’t—I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

TK sighs and tilts his head back against his seat. The silence in the car presses down on his ears but he needs a few seconds to get his thoughts in order.

“The whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing completely applies here, as cliché as it is,” he starts out, turning his head to look at Carlos.

Carlos’ expression is so serious, like he’s truly giving his full attention over to TK, like he sincerely wants to understand what he’s thinking or how he can help. The level of kindness and sincerity Carlos has shown him since day one is unparalleled and given how his last relationship ended, TK is in awe of the fact that someone is willing to extend this generosity to him.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet. In time, I really do want to share it with you because I think you could be good for me. Knowing you has already been good for me and you don’t even realize it.”

TK swallows thickly before pressing on. Carlos remains perfectly still, searching his face. TK can’t help the fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach. This man owes him nothing and yet here he is, willing to hear him out.

“I was a bit of a mess back home. I was in a pretty serious relationship that sort of blew up in my face and I just…I couldn’t stay in the city anymore. My dad got offered the job down here and the timing…it seemed like the univere’s way of giving me something of a clean slate. I’m not where I want to be exactly but I’m working on it.”

He stops short then, his breathing shaky. This was more than he thought he’d share with Carlos this early on and while it feels scary to admit to such heavy things, it’s also freeing. Carlos may be new to his life but every instinct of TK’s is telling him that he can trust this man beside him.

Carlos finally moves, reaching out and holding onto TK’s hand. He doesn’t lace their fingers or anything, just simply holds on to it, as if reminding TK that there’s someone here with him. TK’s eyes start to sting with unshed tears.

“Thank you for telling me,” Carlos says. “I know it couldn’t have been easy. We don’t…I’m just happy to be your friend, honest. We don’t have to make something of this. Seriously, just knowing you is enough.”

Despite his best efforts to stop them, TK can feel traitorous tears running down his cheeks but he can’t find it within himself to be embarrassed over it. Being around Carlos is like existing in a judgement free zone. With his free hand, he wipes at his face and Carlos gives him a soft smile. The sight alone is like a balm over TK’s hurt.

Carlos leans forward, resting his forehead against TK’s. It’s such a tender expression that TK’s breath hitches and his heart skips a beat.

“You’re going to be okay,” Carlos says softly, confidently as if he has some crystal ball that can predict this.

Either way, TK gladly takes the assurance as a fact, clinging to that promise like a life raft in a heavy storm.

[iamknicole]

Attack

Bloodline Family Series

Damien and Ivory had gone to Apryl and Jey's house to spend some time with them and the kids before Simba leaves. Apryl, Ivory and Cookie spent most of the day in the living room and Damien, Jey and Simba were between the patio and Jey's mancave.

"You ready to be away from your daddy, Josiah?" Damien asked relaxing in Jey's recliner.

Simba sucked his teeth and laughed. "Come on, grandpa. Don't do that."

Damien laughed, "Oh I'm sorry. I forgot only ya girlfriend call you that. Us regular folks gotta call you Simba."

"Only cause she won't stop," he shrugged shaking his head, "But I mean I guess I am. Never really been that far away from the family before."

"Yeah but it'll be good, you'll have your cousin there with you."

"Yes sir. You comin up there with us?"

Damien shook his head. "No sir. Moving ya mama and ya aunties into their apartments was enough for me. I'm with you in spirit."

Jey sat quietly watching the two of them interact. He knew Simba was mean as hell most of the time so it was nice when he got to see him be nice and normal. When his son was around his grandparents and great aunt and uncle seemed to be the only time he was this way.

"You at least gonna visit us? We might miss you."

Damien chuckled taking a sip of his beer, "I'm not moving away, you are. Yall miss me, yall better drive yall lil asses back down here."

They all talked and laughed watching Wayans reruns. Another two hours into their bonding and Damien sat up to the edge of the sofa to put his beer on the coffee table. He started to hold his chest and take deeper breaths. Simba put a hand on his back concerned.

"Aye, you aight, grandpa? MiMi told you not to eat all them wings."

Jey moved closer to them and kneeled down on the floor, "You need some water or something? What's wrong?"

Damien opened his mouth a few times but nothing came out, he just kept clutching his chest. "My .. my heart." Was all he said.

Jey helped him lie back on the sofa, "Simba, call 911. Hurry up, tell them it might be a heart attack."

Without any hesitation, Simba took his phone out and called 911. After he was sure the ambulance was on the way he stood looking between his father and his grandfather who was still clutching his chest.

"Go tell ya mama and MiMi the ambulance is coming and its his heart," Jey instructed calmly.

He didn't want to alarm his father in law or his son but he knew his son didn't need to be in there just in case something even worse happened. Nodding, Simba ran out of the mancave to the living room Apryl noticed the alarm on his face.

"Whats wrong, Simba?"

"Its Grandpa, its his heart, I think. The ambulance is coming."

"Oh my God!" Ivory got up and rushed to go check on her husband.

"Stay here with Cookie. Let them in when they get here. Okay?" Apryl instructed quickly.

She ran off before Simba could say anything. He sat on the sofa trying not to think about what was happening now that he wasn't in the room. Cookie was laying on the floor coloring, he wished he could be as innocently oblivious as she was.

Five minutes later, Simba heard the ambulance pull up. He quickly instructed his sister not to come out the room then rushed to let them in. He led them to his dad's man cave then lingered a little longer watching them start to work on his grandfather. Jey went to his son after backing his wife and mother in law away from the paramedics, he stood in front of Simba blocking his view.

"Take Cookie to ya TK house and stay there with the trips. I'll call ya uncle so he knows and he'll tell her so you won't have to. Okay?"

Simba nodded for the first time in a long time he felt like crying but he wouldn't and he couldn't. Leaving the room, he waited until the ambulance, his parents and grandma left before he left the house with Cookie.

When he got to the house he rushed inside with his little sister. There wasn't a lot of time for talking, Roman hugged them and Kandice kissed their heads before rushing out the door. Simba went to the trips playroom with Cookie, he sat on the floor in the corner watching them play and texted his girlfriend hoping she wasn't too busy.

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Conspiracy (6/10)

Sitting in this bar is driving Carlos crazy. He needs to be doing something. For the millionth time, he reminds himself that this is doing something, but it doesn’t feel like that when he’s playing mindless games on his phone while hoping Mateo shows up. Tamin is nursing a soda beside him, too nervous to even look at her phone, because she’s not used to questioning someone like this. It’s something she’ll have to get used to.

“What do we do if he doesn’t come?”

“We figure it out.”

The bartender is clearly irritated they’re taking up space and not drinking, but he doesn’t dare kick them out when he catches the gleam of a badge on Carlos’ hip. It’s one of the good things about being a cop, he guesses. 

Almost half an hour after the agreed meeting time, when Tamin is close to calling it a night, Carlos catches Mateo’s eye across the bar, where he’s just come through the doors. He came. A weight lifts off Carlos’ shoulders as Mateo gets a beer and brings himself to their table struggling slightly to get up onto the high barstool. He won’t look at anything but his drink or the oak tabletop, but the fact that he’s here is a sign he’s going to help them.

“Thank you for coming,” Carlos says. “I really appreciate it.”

Mateo shrugs. 

“I heard you were out clubbing with Paul when Captain Strand passed. When did you guys decide to go out?”

“Just a couple hours before my shift ended,” Mateo admits. He’s picking at the label of his drink. “I was having a really rough day and Paul thought it would cheer me up.”

Tamin leans forward. “What was rough about your day?”

“Cap was in a mood. He was angry at us, especially TK, and when I was helping him calm down in the locker room, Judd came in and Cap shoved me. I hit my head on the locker.”

He holds his hand to the back of his head, like he’s remembering the way it felt when it slammed against the metal. They knew there was something off already, but Carlos is really hung up on his words. Helping the victim calm down in the locker room. Getting pushed away when someone else could have seen them. The implications of it make him nauseous. 

“How were you helping the captain calm down?”

Mateo looks off to the side again. He can’t seem to look Carlos in the eyes, similar to TK, and it makes him ache for the kid. There’s something about him that yells child, protect me, help me, and it sets off every protective instinct in Carlos’ body. For a moment, he wishes Mateo won’t tell him. Then he can pretend a little longer that this investigation isn’t an abuse case as well as a homicide.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it,” Mateo finally says. “But he’s- he’s really gone, right? He’s actually dead?”

Officer Tamin reaches out for his hand to reassure him. “He can never hurt you, or anyone else, ever again.”

“My team won’t know what I said?”

“We won’t tell them,” Carlos assures. “We just want to know what happened.”

He’s still nervous, and needs to finish his drink before he’s willing to admit what happened. What Captain Strand did to him, and most definitely did to TK. He still leaves out the majority of the details, but he says he was on his knees and the victim was sitting on the locker room bench, and he tells them that he never liked the taste. He also says that sometimes the Captain returned the favor, but he never liked that either. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Carlos says. He means it. 

“It’s not like I said no.”

Tamin shifts beside Carlos, and when he looks at her, there’s something hard in her face. “That doesn’t matter. He’s your captain, in a position of power over you, and he’s old enough to be your father. You didn’t want it, and even if you didn’t say no, that doesn’t make it right.”

In an unexpected response, Mateo starts crying. Not just a few tears, like at the firehouse, but full sobs and hiding his face behind his hands. It’s rough, to the point that Carlos helps him off his stool and leads him outside for fresh air to calm him down. Tamin settles their tab- he’ll pay her back later- and joins them after a minute. While they sit outside, Carlos rubs his back until he can breathe a little bit easier.

“Is there someone I can call for you?”

Mateo shakes his head frantically. Right. He doesn’t want the team to know he said anything.

“Do you want a ride home?”

He refuses that too, and asks them in a careful voice if TK has said anything about what happened to him. Before Carlos can say no, Mateo answers himself in a negative and stands up, evidently ready to leave, before leaving them with something else to think about.

“I think it was Marjan’s idea,” he admits softly. “When Judd told the team what he saw, she was the angriest. She told me she was going to make it stop.”

Just like that he’s gone, and Carlos has another lead. He’s going to have to go see Marjan again, and she’ll be angry, but he has to be as careful as possible to protect Mateo from the wrath of his teammates should they consider him a traitor to whatever cause they’ve turned the victim’s death into.

Once he’s left, Carlos drives himself and Tamin to Marjan’s house, where she’s in the middle of dinner with TK. TK takes one look at Carlos and blurts out, “You talked to Mateo, didn’t you?”

Marjan’s eyes go wide, even if she tries to hide her reaction by standing up and going to the kitchen, offering to make her guests a plate. Carlos isn’t here to eat. 

“Officer Tamin, take Mr. Strand outside, please.”

“Am I under arrest?” TK counters. “You can’t arrest me in my house.”

“You’re not under arrest, that’s not true, and it’s not your house. Go outside.”

TK looks ready to argue more, but Tamin wraps a hand around his arm and he says, “I’m going, I’m going,” as she leads him outside. Carlos feels a little bad about it, but he doesn’t want TK here for this in case things escalate. They’ll have to get Mateo a protective detail too, in case he becomes too much of a liability for the comfort of the 118 crew. Better safe than sorry.

“Is it true?” Marjan asks. “Mateo talked to you?”

“I can’t confirm or deny that. I’m here to talk about you, Marjan, so let’s do that.”

She leans against her counter and crosses her arms. “Still investigating the cap’s murder? Why won’t you let that go?”

“Because it was a murder.”

Marjan hums but doesn’t seem at all interested in him continuing to look into this. It’s frustrating. He wants to scream at how frustrating this is. At some point, someone has to break. They always do. Mateo has, but it’s just not enough, not yet. 

“You were angry when Judd told you what he saw.” 

“And what is it you think he told me?”

It would be so much easier not to say it. But Carlos has to. “He told you he saw Captain Strand sexually assaulting Mateo.”

Her face is almost blank in the face of that news. Not angry or disbelieving, just empty, as though she can’t process his words. It’s a normal response, just not from someone who planned the murder of someone in cold blood and got their friends to help mutilate a man. She doesn’t even respond to him, instead beginning to wash the dishes as though he hasn’t said anything at all. 

“Marjan, if you tell me the truth, I can help you. Maybe you weren’t thinking straight, maybe it triggered something for you-”

“I’m not a snitch.”

Before Carlos can respond, he hears Tamin yell outside, and then the tell-tale sound of a gun going off. He runs to the front door.

@smileofthesun27 @skylark50 @heartofmarjan @chiefsheepbird @ebug2002 @proceduralpassion @cauldronbornkid

[ao3theskyisblue]

(Stay) I Need You More Than You Think

Big thank you to @summerfiing for the prompt for this post 😊 I hope you enjoy reading it 🤗

Hopefully this shows up in the tags lmao

Summary: Some days are harder than others.

The life of a first responder never gets easier, and Carlos experiences one of those days.

Click here to read on AO3, the fic is also under the break 😊

There were days that, when the sun showcased its brilliant glow beyond the horizon, Carlos woke up in tune to the new day, the sunlight offering an ethereal glow as the warmth kissed his skin. The comforter would be soft and pliant underneath his fingertips, flowing with the movement as he pushed it aside to sit up.

Spotlights would be created by the shining beams of light, waiting up with him calmly for the alarm to sound, which he would then turn off with the quick press of a button. The floorboards would mold to the shape of his bare feet, allowing him to soundlessly glide to the bathroom to clean up. The kitchen would then welcome him in, sunlight peeking through the gap between the curtains, enticing him towards the coffee machine. He would operate it effortlessly to produce a hot drink that would truly start to wake him up as he made breakfast to get the energy he needed to start his shift.

Even so, days that started with a simple rising of the sun, sometimes didn’t end with the moon graciously offering its light to allow the sun to cast their vivid rays across the other half of the Earth.

Instead of bathing the world with warmth, clouds would populate the sky to present a new dawn, one that did not allude a welcoming atmosphere.

His keys scraped against the lock, the object stubbornly refusing to slide into the allotted space smoothly, instead deciding to give Carlos a hard-felt battle of resistance as he tried, for the fifth time, to unlock his own damn door.

He then proceeded to trip over his own entranceway, feet getting caught in absolutely nothing causing him to grab at the wall to steady himself with a muffled curse. He didn’t really need any light to see where he was going – knowing the layout of his apartment like the back of his hand – but he still fumbled to find a light switch that seemed to have moved from its usual position on the wall.

The room was freezing, floorboards sending chills through the soles of his feet causing him to shiver. Forgoing trying to find the light switch, his gaze wandered to the kitchen that was too quiet, almost seeming to be taunting him about his lack of appetite. There was a haunting chill in the hallway leading to the bedroom, and Carlos barely registered the creaking of the floorboards underneath his weight as he carelessly climbed into bed. The comforter was cold to the touch, feeling heavy in his hands as he worked to climb underneath it, the weight encasing his body in a false sense of security. Closing his eyes, arms curling around himself to provide a warmth that didn’t exist, Carlos willed his body to succumb to a world where darkness fed on the deepest recesses of his mind.

Death had taken a little girl today.

He had stood on the sidelines, eyes watching a scene his brain had not caught up to, his senses too slow to respond – standing too far to respond – as an AC unit came toppling down and crushing the girl underneath it. The mother’s screams were a shrilling sound that couldn’t seem to stop echoing in his mind.

Carlos had been in that apartment, had been the one to answer to a complaint about a neighbour that just would not comply with safe placements of household appliances. And even through his many warnings, along with the many others from officers responding to the same complaint on different days, today was the one in a million where something went wrong.

And he couldn’t do anything.

The man had immediately been arrested, this time the police needing no more reason to slap on handcuffs that should have been on those wrists since the first complaint. The scene left a bitter taste on his tongue, as he had watched the man’s head being shoved into the back of a squad car.

Out of everything, it had taken a little girl’s life to cause enough reason for the punishment of an action that shouldn’t have happened in the first place. The man would be getting time in prison, while an innocent child would never again see the light of dawn announcing a new day.

Weighed down by dread, his limbs cried the tears he couldn’t as he lifted the comforter tighter around him, burrowing his nose into the pillow to seek for any source of warmth. There was no clock in the bedroom scarce his phone, thankfully leaving him devoid of its rhythmic ticking.

The rest of Carlos’ shift had gone by in a blur, the flashback of the tiny body being covered by a white sheet in stark contrast with the blood pooling on the pavement making his gut twist painfully. His partner had also been unnaturally quiet, not picking up the usual banter the two often shared between calls.

Carlos’s entire body felt like lead lying on the same sheets that had felt so warm just that morning, now turned frigid as if mourning with him about another life he could not save. Time was merciless – passing by in a manner that he could not quantify, not knowing whether he’d been lying in an exhaustedly restless state for minutes, or maybe hours.

Head swimming with images that only spread further anguish through his veins, Carlos knew that sleep would not come easy tonight. The life of a first responder never gets any easier, and there were some days that caused a sleepless repose in the sheets, physically at rest but mentally in pain. Tomorrow would be a new day, and Carlos would just have to accept the newly added weight on his shoulders and acknowledge that time does not stop to grant healing for the scalding ail of grief.  

Through the muffled pieces of the world Carlos could vaguely make out in the dim lighting of his bedroom, his fingers suddenly twitched in apprehension when rustling noises sounded from his living room.

There were only a handful of people that had the key to his place, and only one who could have heard about what happened and would be paying him a visit.

His body a mere dead weight, Carlos forced himself to roll out of his comforter cocoon that depicted only an illusion of console, feet padding against cold floorboards once more to head towards the living room. Unlike when he first came in, the lights were on, and a familiar figure lifted his gaze from where he had been staring down two mugs of…something, to offer him a small smile.  

“Hey.” TK said softly, his voice quiet, but a welcome sound penetrating through the silence Carlos had secluded himself in. The firefighter made his way to him slowly, hands twitching as if wanting to reach out, but held back at the last second.

“I made some tea. Lemon balm. Would you like a cup?” TK asked, eyes gentle and devoid of judgment at Carlos’ rumpled nature. His hair had to be sticking in every direction from him not bothering to fix it when rolling out of bed, but TK didn’t seem the least bit fazed.

Looking at the openness to his expression, his green eyes staring at him unblinkingly - patiently awaiting his next move, Carlos felt his throat closing at the wave of emotion hitting him at full swing.

Oh.

“Yeah. Tea sounds...sounds good.” It goes to show how out of it he really is when Carlos didn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice. Wincing at how small and shallow it sounded, Carlos opened his mouth to apologize, explain, say something, but TK only gave him a comforting nod and gestured to the couch.

“I’ll bring it over – you go and make yourself comfortable.”

Carlos’ legs worked on autopilot after that, dragging the rest of his body towards the couch. He sank into the soft cushions, shoulders hunching at the invisible weight he didn’t bother to hide now, and that had already piled on without him knowing.

A whiff of something tangy invaded his senses, and Carlos looked up to see TK standing in front of him holding out his favourite mug, labelled ‘eat more hole foods’ with a picture of a donut that had been a gift from Michelle the day he came out to her. The mug pulled out a hint of a smile at the memory, before it faded.

Accepting the hot drink that still had steam rising with the unmistakable scent of lemons, Carlos pressed the palms of his hands against the heat protruding through the porcelain. He didn’t bother removing his hands when the heat started to burn, giving him a welcome tether to the real world.

“It’s my mother’s favourite, the tea. She was always drinking loads of the stuff, claiming it gave her a sense of peace after hours in the courtroom.” TK spoke quietly, and Carlos vaguely registered him taking a seat on the coffee table in front of him, their knees just shy of brushing against one another.

Carlos raised the mug to his lips, carefully taking a small sip. He was immediately greeted with a sharp tang of bitterness, a taste that wasn’t normally accustomed to this type of tea. He couldn’t hold back a wince, nose scrunching up at the bitter taste that slowly faded away after he swallowed, leaving him to stare at the mug in bewilderment. A light titter of laughter ringed in his ears, and Carlos looked up to see TK watching him fondly.

“I may have steeped it a little longer than necessary to give it a kick. Did it work?” TK smiled, lifting his own mug to take a sip of his own cup of tea. Carlos had half a mind to wonder why TK hadn’t recoiled at the taste like he did, and was about to ask, ‘did what work?’ but the words got caught in his throat.

The ache in his chest from earlier, had receded into a dull throb. Blinking away the mist that clouded his gaze, Carlos lifted his mug again, taking a longer sip - this time welcoming the sharp bitterness on his tongue.

The glow from the lights TK had decided to turn on cast a comforting shadow around them, encasing them in a secure bubble of space filled with two mugs of relaxing tea – and one heart carefully cradling another.

The onslaught of feelings he had pushed to the side from earlier cascaded out in a trickle, starting with a stray tear slipping down Carlos’ cheeks. He reached out his fingers to brush against TK’s arm carefully, unsure whether his touch was warranted. Without missing a second, TK placed both their mugs off to the side, getting up from the coffee table to step into Carlos’ arms.

Carlos didn’t waste any more time in wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist, burrowing his face into the soft fabric of TK’s shirt near his stomach. His legs widened their stance to fit TK in between them, his arms tightening around the solid warmth. Carlos shivered as fingers gently sifted through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, feeling a hand splayed on the muscles of his back, thumb moving in slow circles in an offer of silent solace.

They stayed there, in the built comfort of the living room for a long time. TK hadn’t so much as mentioned why he had decided to come over, solely content in giving what Carlos was willing to take, and never once questioned why.

Slowly but surely, the ice began to thaw in his chest. The living room no longer felt absent and cold, the floorboards turning palpable and grounding, the soft material of the shirt he had buried his face in soaking up his tears in a gentle caress.

Carlos tipped his head up, red-rimmed eyes meeting TK’s gentle ones, sighing softly as the hand that had been running continually through his hair moved to cradle his face, the thumb running along the ridge just underneath his left eye. Carlos leaned into the touch.

“Will you stay?” Carlos whispered hoarsely, hesitantly, giving TK an out if he didn’t want to. It was a little silly, having these kinds of thoughts now. But the day’s events were still raw, and if TK had better things to do than stay with his bleak stature, Carlos would never blame him.

Seeming to understand where his thoughts were going, TK leaned down to press their foreheads together, green eyes filled with nothing but affection as they bore into brown orbs that had lost their usual light.

“Always, Carlos.” TK murmured. Carlos closed his eyes, relishing in the small spark of warmth starting to build in his chest at the words.

“Always.”

[lire-casander]

as the world halts into darkness

this is part of my as the world whirls series that I’m writing out of order but once it’s complete, all the parts will be available in the correct chronological order. I will be posting this later today on Ao3.

It’s under a cut because it contains spoilers for s01e08, and also because of the themes. Read at your own discretion.

cw: mentions of gunshots, mentions of blood, mentions of drug use, mentions of drug abuse, suicide ideation, heavy angst, spoilers for s01e08, character study, unbeta’ed. Let me know if I need to warn about something else, please.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

as the world halts into darkness ~ tk strand ~ 911 lone star (~1600 words)

Darkness. 

He canʼt see anything. Heʼs surrounded by a black hole that threatens to eat him up hole, and he couldn’t care less. He must be in shock. 

At least he isn’t hurting. 

He vividly remembers the gun being shot. He was there, at the receiving end of something that was never intended for a firefighter. Heʼs heard stories — heʼs lived in New York his whole life. Heʼs grown up with the shadows of all those who perished when the towers fell, all first responders whose knee-jerk reaction had been to run into the buildings, not out of them. Heʼs never, ever experienced it first hand. 

Sure, heʼs saved some lives. Sure, heʼs lost some. Heʼs even almost lost himself in the process of understanding who he really is. But now there’s nothing. There’s a void where everything used to be — where his whole world used to twirl in ribbons of neon colored stripes that tended to trap him, there’s simply a blackness covering everything. 

The pain comes back with a vengeance, and all he can do is double over himself, coughing up into his uniform — or maybe it is his fatherʼs, he isn’t sure anymore — until there’s a red wetness covering everything in sight. 

He can hear distant voices freaking out as he drifts away, a throbbing in his chest that wonʼt leave him, spreading hotness throughout a body he doesn’t feel as his any longer. He wants to speak up, to tell his father to give up, to let him go, but there are no words coming out of his mouth, his throat closing up. 

He canʼt even remember his name. 

He struggles to stay awake in the darkness that engulfs him. His eyes feel heavy, his heart is too tired to keep beating at a normal pace. He just wants to rest. He just wants to sleep. He just wants everything to stop hurting. 

He just wants this hell to end. 

He wants for this nightmare to be the finish line of all his demons, the reason why he lets go. Not an overdose, not by his own hand — an external reason, Godʼs will, an accident. He doesn’t want the kid to have to live with the knowledge that heʼs killed someone, because that child isnʼt a murderer. The truth is, heʼs been wanting to die for a long while, and this is the perfect excuse to blame it on something else, something that isn’t directly linked to his inability to desire to keep breathing. 

He’s slipping away. He wants to give in, to jump face first into the darkness, but hands grab at him and donʼt let go, and heʼs too weak to fight. He’s always been a coward. 

He loses track of time. He doesn’t know where he is or how he got here or what time it is. He feels a soft mattress underneath his body, and an unwelcome presence crawling up his nose. He must be at a hospital.

Why is he at a hospital? 

His memory is fuzzy. Nothing seems clear in his mind. He feels dizzy and somewhat high, and he realizes with rising fear that he must be on something for the pain. There’s a corner of his mind that doesn’t feel real, as though he isn’t himself, as though heʼs watching from the outside through a window to his own life, spiraling fast in front of his eyes. When he tries to move, he finds himself restrained by invisible ropes. He doesn’t understand anything. 

But then again, nothing ever made sense while he got high on oxy and dark thoughts.

Wherever he is, there’s a hurricane devastating everything he once thought he knew. 

There are images floating around his mind, images that he canʼt shake off but he doesn’t want to welcome into his psyche. The last time he allowed his memories to take over him, bad things happened. Nuclear bad things — a break-up, an overdose, a battering ram into his door, a freak-out, a bar brawl. He wonʼt go back there. He wonʼt. He canʼt. 

Alex saw right through him, through his insecurities and his flaws, and chose to pour salt on the open wound that his heart had been. Alex had ripped him out and left him to rot in the open. Alex had stomped all over his soul, forgetting about the bleeding shreds that flared up in his wake. 

Alex hadnʼt been his first awakening to an unforgiving world, but he had been the hardest fall heʼs ever taken. 

His side hurts. It shouldn’t be in pain. He shouldn’t be in pain. Where is he? Why isn’t whatever he is on working? 

He’s been sober for over a hundred days, and now he isn’t, not any longer. What has he done? Why is he so weak that he hasnʼt been able to stop whoeverʼs watching over him from sedating him? 

The dizziness settles down, and his whole world tilts on its axis as he tries to get a grip of what he knows before it dissolves into thin air. He watches the memories of Alex vanishing; he tries to reach out but they fall through his fingers like the sand used to when he played on the beach as a careless kid. He watches on as some other images — pictures of happier times, stamps of better days, sunny and rainy and windy and cold and hot and perfect — quickly get lost in the whirlwind of emotions getting sucked into the black hole his soul is becoming. 

He’s unable to stop the maelstrom from taking away everything he loves. 

Buttercup has only been in his life for a few days. Not long enough for him to fall in love with the dog thatʼs about to rip his heart in two, and yet he feels he canʼt lose the very scarce images heʼs stored of them together — a chewed slipper, a night spent in the same bunk bonding over the fatality of life being much more feeble than either of them anticipated. He can’t lose those memories. He can’t lose the only sense of finality that doesn’t feel like the final line — there might be hope for Buttercup, there might be hope for his father. There might be hope for himself. 

He canʼt lose it. He can’t. He wonʼt. 

Buttercup gets sucked into the black hole and all he wants to do is cry out. 

No sound echoes out of his parched throat. 

Owen Strand is a man of many words, he knows that. But there’s always a hidden meaning in everything he says. He loves talking in riddles, implying much more than what his words reveal. He knows how to read between the lines when his father says it’s okay to love him even though you might lose him. He knows the meaning behind every sound — he knows they mean a dog with cancer fighting his way out of the darkness, he knows they mean a father gearing up to win an impossible battle against the fate of those who rushed toward the danger when everyone else stepped back. 

He knows they mean a love that wasnʼt meant to be found, but that crept its way up, up, up, until all that was left in his crushed heart was the prospect of a new beginning, the hope of a growing future, and the fear of failing again. 

Carlos Reyes hadnʼt been what heʼd expected when he followed his father down to Texas. Carlos Reyes hadnʼt been anything heʼd planned for. Carlos Reyes is just a force of nature, a tornado that sweeps up everything as he barrels on. Carlos Reyes is everything heʼs sworn off, a reason to live, someone who isn’t giving up on the failure that his life has become. Along with his father, Carlos is the one whoʼs shown him that faith is blind, that love thrives under duress, that life is worth living on his own terms. 

Carlos Reyes is the person he canʼt watch drowning in the storm circling over him.

He wants to stand up, he wants to fight. His memories of Carlos are slowly fading away, swallowed by the fuzziness of whateverʼs compromising his sobriety. He can’t allow it. He can’t lose Carlos. He can’t. 

He wonʼt. 

It takes every ounce of strength left in him, and then some, all the jumbled feelings heʼs been storing, filing them away for a better moment, until that moment escaped him in a gunshot that was never meant to be. He remembers now. He remembers the kid. He remembers the light. He remembers the pain and the fear and the cries and the rushing. 

He remembers his name. 

He doesn’t want to die anymore. Maybe he almost allowed his fears to take over, to steal the best of him. Maybe heʼs got a long path of recovering ahead of him. But he isn’t going to let fear win over him. 

Itʼs okay to love him.

Itʼs okay. 

He remembers his name, now. He remembers everything — every small detail, the childhood days spent in Cape Cod, the academy months wasted between books and alcohol, the slow shifts at the station sandwiched between Marjan and Mateo. He remembers the bad days when everything was so dark, so wrong, that nothing seemed to be right anymore. 

He remembers his parents. Alex. He remembers Carlos and his everlasting unbreakable faith in a future that heʼs systematically tramped down with his own insecurities. Not any longer. 

He remembers. 

He gasps, fighting for air. He breathes in through a tube and panics when he canʼt feel anything. He freaks out when the voices around him start to rise. But he fights the panic. He fights the fire threatening to consume him. 

He’s a firefighter, after all. 

He feels fingers in his temple, soft words urging him to open his eyes and wake up. To come back. To want to stay with them, with his father and his newfound family and Buttercup and Carlos. 

Always Carlos, pushing him to fight his demons and win, to choose to be instead of to just exist, to live instead of to just survive. 

To love. 

He remembers, now. 

He opens his eyes and allows the light to full his pupils. He wants to smile but he knows it comes out more like a grimace than something else. He hears and feels and hurts. He’s going to get through this. He’s got purpose. He’s got love. 

There’s brightness around him. 

[jd-arts319]

Genesistale!!!!

Info:an Au where evolutions take place,the au's origin was currently unknown, but the monsters that lived there are called genesis monsters or evo monsters for short,the Au have been under locked & keyed for years now that not even the creator or the destroyer knew this Au,

The monsters in genesistale have power to evolve in their stronger form when in battle.

Story:a long time ago,humans & monsters live in peace,they have been.living in harmony in years until one day,a mysterious turquoise gemstone was found In the cave of Mt.ebott,the stone was studied by prof.w.d gaster along with the old mages,when they first experimented it on a plant,the results lead them to founding out the stone was a evolution stone,because of this discovery,Dr.w.d gaster & the old mages had talked about the stone in the matter,however a certain human who despised monsters for so long decided to use the stone against monsters & humans to ruining the peace,the humans & monsters band together to try & fought the now genocidal beast,but they are no matched towards the genocidal beast,until one of the monsters took the evo stone & Their a new beacon of hope have been made,seeing the monster evolve into a stronger ver.of Themselves,all the monsters took one of each piece of stone & evolved into their stronger forms along with the humans,they have defeated said beast,however the king decided that in order for all of monsters & humans to live in peace,he decided to ask the 7 wizards to trap the beast in the underground with all of the monsters including himself,the idea was successful but it leaves all the humans in grief & despair for their monster friends took the sacrifice for their sake.

Years had passed a unique human came into the underground & Their,the story begins....

Name:fana reine C.verdana/reine genesis

Age:16(Preiviou)-19(present)

B-day:June,30

Gender:female(GF)

Alias:rei,renny,genny

Relatives:Penelope genesis(step sister)

Personality:quite,calm,anti-social & socially awkward,aloof,reine acts like a normal sans but more active,she is also had long patient,hard to read,Nice,kind,earnest,cool,helpful,funny,rarely gets mad(be careful)

Likes:drawing,sleeping,singing(when no one is around),music,stargazing,night strolls,kids(sometimes)creating something.

Dislikes:he bullies,racist & discriminations,feeling alone,being misjudge,being centered on attention for too long.

Info:once was a human that fell in the underground & live with the sibling of skeleton she fused with,reine was only a human that lived a normal life,except with a bully who clearly hates her,she deals it in her own way until everything changes when she got lost in the Mt.ebott,meanwhle in the underground monsters lived peacefully with No human had fallen down since then,that is until another came & there things went downwards,leaving them to deal with a genocidal child,however things change another Human came & there escalated the two fighting but an unfortunate fate came,leading reine to die to the hands of the human while the said human died into the hands of the au's "sans" however the reset had cause her to be in a new timeline where she was experimented by a mysterious human who had found out she can remember the resets & experimented on here turning her into a half amalgamate,but that was put to an end when the genocidal human came again &.killed the scientist,another months had passed,she was almost having her normal life back,word"almost" when her bully(posessed by the genocidal human) came again & tried to kill her,only to be saved by "sans" who had used the evo stone to kill the human that posessed the bully,however the power was too much & it leads him to dying,reine who had been saved by "sans" was asked by him to fuse her soul with his body & take care of his Lil' sister,penelope, before he passed away,she agreed because she was indebt of him & there she is no longer a human,but an evo skeleton monster,with the promise in mind she starts a new life not knowing there is something the Au was keeping.

Abilities:(inhenced)gaster blasters,bones,Telekinesis,teleportation, Crystallokinesis,evolution,weapon summoning,code manipulation,(others unknown)

Name:Penelope gensis

Age:17

Gender:female

Alias:penny,lope,loppy

B-day:July,6

Relatives:Magnus(GT!sans),reine gensis(step sister)

Personality:(past)cheerful,quirky,kind,sweet,sisterly,(present)quite & stoic,now mellow & soft spoken but had terrifying anger(reine is wrost though),mature,& helpful.

Likes:cooking,gardening,Springs,kids,helping out.

Dislikes:some Au papyruses BS(some if the learn a lessons not to anger her),being reminded of he brother's death.

Info:the little sister of Magnus,penelope was grief stricken by the death of her brother,she used to be a cheerful girl,but the death of her brother hits her hard,she is now quite & mournful until reine came & she started to open up once more when she now mellow person who helped around the omega timeline.

Abilities:floral manipulation,blasters & bones,Telekinesis,teleportation,blue magic.

Facts

reine was actually came from me it's translate in two different languages mine is "reina" in Italian means "queen","reine" is the same in French.

She had a necklace given to her by sans before he died,that necklace was a genesis stone,it was unknown why "sans" gave her the peice of the real stone.

Penelope is the only female papyrus existed being Born as a female & not gender switch.

Reine had known the au's from the start,when she only saw them as her dreams.

Reine gets along well with the bad sanses & the good ones.

She met pj in a dreamscape when he was alone in the anti-void,the two met earlier than before.

Her real name is Fana Reine Charm Verdana,The name"Fana" came from my other oc,charm from my tumblr.& verdana was from my.oc.

Fana & reine are two seperate beings,one where fana had a different timeline while reine had fana's old timelines.

Reine was supposed to be "fana" but I changed them into separate beings.

Reine is me along with fana,I also have other au's ver.of reine but never much get into until now,available only are her fell & swap ver.but also her pj daycare ver.CT!Reine

She can be shipped as well as penelope.

She had a soul of time & evolution,while penelope had the soul of passion & happiness.

She had her hair still,she just hides them in a beanie underneath the hood.

Relationships:

Penelope:she & Penelope had a bit awkward & rocky relationships as siblings after sans death,but penelope soon slowly accepted reine as her new sibling.

Paperjam:she & him are friends from the start,where she was only 10 yrs.old &.only human,she & pj met in a dreamscape & had bonded each other becoming as friends,they still kept in contact on each other until she was 16 both had lost each others contacts,but the two will meet again in the near time,since the Au was underlocked & keyed until,she & Penelope found a way to get out of their Au & will soon meet each other again.

Bad sanses:she actually gets along well with the bad sanses,she helped horror with error to give them foods for his Au,helped killer with his emotions,helped dust with his power-hungry LV & EXP,helped nightmare with his personal issues,helped cross to restore his Au,& helped error with not only his hapephobia but also his other personal issues,she saw what the bad sanses really like inside,as she knew they care about each other deeply.

Chara's & some frisk's:she helped error with taking care of the chara's & some frisk's,she was Their big sister figure.

Good sanses:she had rather weird relationship with the three,she likes blueberry just fine she just finds him very....quirky,as for dream she saw him as a person who needs therapy....srsly is anyone gonna helped the golden boy? No?...ok,as for ink she saw ink as a toleretable soulless friend,yes she knew he was soulless.

Palette & goth:she loves the two as siblings & clearly shipped the two as her otp.

Tk:she likes to hang out with Tk & his papyrus along with their alternatives,both she & Penelope are Their funnester babysitters.

Abyss & his Team:

Abyss:her fluffy friend she adored & tease with but also the one who helped her with her soul.

Mecha:she sees as mettaton 2.0,but likes him for his funny yet seen attitude.

V:awkward acquaintances but gets along well.

Kin & beats:both bond over music & drawing.

Ganz(&Mel):she helps him with his mental state & sometimes talked to mel about him.

Most close relationship with Reine:

Penelope as her sister

Pj as her best friend(or boyfriend eh???*slapped by reine* :''''))

Error:duncle

Goth & palette:her cute otps

Tk & papyrus:her funnester bro's.

Ct!pj:her friend she is very much fond of...

Their au's counterpart:

Fell!Reine(Quinn)& swap!Reine(raina)

CT!Reine/Regina

Tk!Reine

Error!Reine/digit

Abyss!Reine/Novia

You can ship her with as:

Reine X pj!

Ct!Reine/Regina X Ct!Pj

(you can send some ship for her but I know no one will pay attention to them or either this blog anyway qwq)

Trivia:

All of their names are actually means "queen" just like mine,no really my secondary-name means "queen"in Italian.

She is basically oldest oc.

I shipped her with pj/Ct!pj even though she hates it ;)

Penny almost took after me as well as reine.

She had other au's ver. Like digit(error!Reine),Novia(abyss!Reine)

She likes to eat bread & warm milk to drink,she also liked ground meat burger,& her fav.drink is water or other flavor drinks,she likes the savory type of food than the junk foods.

Penelope is inspired by marcophanges from cell in delivery(I think)along with Reine.

Reine is inspired by Ania to skele!nia from @ania-da-pez

My 1st of liking undertale is @ania-da-pez ,along with @harrish6

Fana can be shipped but she is canonly shipped with Sean by my long time friend @rainbowdiamondsumaita so yeah,ads for me I cannot be shipped.

Reine is my real main oc/muse or mascot.

(you can ship my oc's if ya all want 😏(eventhoughsomeofthemwillneverfamousanywatnorwillbeshippedqwq)(

Genesistale,Reine & Penelope belongs to meh-

__________________-_-_____

[ifridiot]

1 3 12 19 for fanfic asks

1. favorite fic you wrote this year

oh god this is difficult. Hmm. I have a few, because... I have written over a hundred short stories this year, and I honestly can’t pic just one. Sticking with what I posted on AO3, I am quite pleased with the entirety of the Let Them Eat Flesh series, especially The Widening Gyre and Wretched and Joyful. Delicate was such a monumental effort for me, and I think i could have done better at capturing the emotions it was meant to evoke, but it’s still quite solid and I’m pleased with it. Things Change, My Dear is quite good, if only because of the discussions we’ve had about the AU and the work you’ve done from the foundations I knocked together. I am maliciously fond of Never, if only because of the disgust I’ve received in response to the idea of Frank Castle having, of all things, a gun kink. Of course, Memento Mori, Puncture Repair, and Come Home really laid the ground work for how I wanted to present my takes on these characters.

For fandoms that are not The Punisher, I’m particularly pleased with Protector, because I quite enjoy Nate and Wade calling each other out on their bullshit. Science is Cool was just a lot of fun to write and I absolutely adore seeing people’s reactions to it -- a lot like Memento Mori, honestly. Owned and Jarmed in the Target Jathroom were both supremely enjoyable to write. I loved doing the stupid ass puns in Jarmed, and Owned is of course about War, so what’s not to love? A Green Eyed Demon is... well, it’s just a lot of things I like, okay. Jealousy, pining, Nate knowing Wade way too well... it’s fun and sexy. And of course, the first published fic of the year deserves a mention, because I got to write an old, old love of mine, so Drunken Lament, there you are.

GONNA HAVE TO DO THE REST UNDER A CUT, YOU BASTARD.

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

Jesus christ. Okay. I’m going to try to be reasonable here. One or two lines from only the Best Fics. Oh who the fuck am I kidding... 

“You smell,” Kakuzu says by way of greeting, “like expensive sake. And self-pity.” 

(from Drunken Lament)

"Fuckin' cunt," he snarls, "you stupid fucking," blood dripping down his face, all over the carpet, all over Wade, and Wade musters half the strength in his body and throws Nate off over his head. His body makes a satisfying thud on the dingy carpet, and Wade launches at him, pins him again, always on the stomach, and this time he bites Nate's neck, leaves uneven pinpoint marks where his teeth have been, not drawing blood though he could, he could so very easily. Nate groans.  

(from Glittering)

It becomes easier to avoid him. Only go over when he needs something, and even then, scurry away at the first sexy sign emanating from the apartment, stop going on missions together unless Nate comes asking him to help out. A man can only jack it so many times behind a dumpster before he starts having unhealthy associations with the smell of hot trash. He can think about getting fucked six ways to Sunday by everyone’s favorite scowling soldier in his own room, thankyouverymuch, and it’s nicer to jerk off where there are clean tissues on hand. 

(from A Green Eyed Demon)

“Would it be easier to come if I were fucking you like you don’t matter?” 

(from A Green Eyed Demon, also fuck that is a Horny Line)

“The jurtains,” he whispers, and Nate gives him a look, which just seems to make him even more pleased with the find. “We need them. Those are what we want. Good eye, honeypie.”

“What the fuck,” Nate says slowly, not sure he wants to know, “are jurtains?”

“Curtains but denim,” Wade replies with utter earnest sincerity. “It’s – don’t give me that face – it’s basic English.” 

(from Jarmed in the Target Jathroom)

Okay so I would basically be copying the whole back half of Jarmed, but... Pretty much all the dialog while Nate’s jerking Wade off is just Good. All the denim puns.

Once, when he’d been another man, a weaker man, he’d loved Wade.

In his own way, he still did; loved him and wanted him safe and kept and all his own. But it was easy to hate him, too; his arrogance and selfishness and constant cries for attention.

But Wade belonged to him now. And in a way, owning him was better than loving him alone had ever been.

(from Owned. I really love how crisply this highlights the difference between War and Nathan.)

When he finally thrusts into the tight, pliant heat of Wade’s body, he focuses on his TK, stripping the scarred flesh from muscle from bone down Wade’s back. Wade moans, smothering the wet tearing sound of the mutilation, his tone dripping with lust and excitement, audibly delighted over the flesh flaying from his body. As it comes free, the blood and tissue is held by telekinetic force all around them, extending out from Wade in a gory fan.

(from Owned. This is just disgusting and I live for it)

“Fuck you,” Wade says pleasantly, and then groans beautifully at the sensation of the raw muscle and nerve of his back being torn open again. “This? This is all for me. If you were really punishing me, I wouldn’t get dick, pun very much intended; you’d leave me all alone for a few more fuckless days, and if you ever thought for a goddamn second about me anymore, maybe you’d figure out why I keep trying to run away so often.”

(from Owned)

It’s all Wade’s fault, he thinks furiously as he digs his fingers in hard enough to feel something crunch, blood welling under his fingers, clutching hard to the skin under his fingers and squeezing until the frustration leaks out between his knuckles. It’s Wade’s fault. Because Wade’s skin feels like it’s burning, always, imprinting on War’s back and hips and thighs as he futilely tries to cling. Because Wade doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean, doesn’t try to placate him, doesn’t make him feel like any more of a man even when he’s bucking under him and making strangled, incoherent noises like he’s drowning, they’re both drowning, and he can’t get enough air or enough of War. Because when it’s done, and his heart is still stuffed up somewhere in his throat, War knows Wade will beg him to stay for cuddles he hasn’t got time to indulge in, like they’re just two of a kind, two normal people living normal lives together.

(From Owned. Love that War still has so much complex emotion)

Bearded Nate isn’t just taller, his version of the TO is cleaner, somehow, sinking in a smooth line under his flesh, swallowing his arm and dancing down his side, his hip, his leg. Short!Nate is more organic looking, very nice with the scars and the proud flesh and the jagged lines of metal bursting from under his skin. He’s got a thick vein of TO running up his dick, and Wade’s mouth waters at the sight, his brain going hazy at the thought of getting that inside him. As soon as possible, yes please.

(from Science is Cool)

Laughter bubbles up out of him like the kind of vomit you get after drinking too much soda too quickly, frothy and jagged. 

(from Science is Cool. Such a Wade line

“Is curiosity really going to kill the Cable?” He asks, closing his eyes again. He’s very tired uddenly. He liked not remembering. He wants to get back to that. “Bodyslide outta here. Your Wade is in another castle. This is not the Wade you’re looking for. Good fuck though, thanks for that.”

“Wade.”

“War is coming. That’s what you go by here. So get the fuck out. Please.”

(from Science is Cool. I know this is a spoiler for the whole fic, but god i love this line)

The more they start to work together, once things get rolling, the harder it is to find his disgust for this man, this man who ruined lives trying to do the right thing. The sickest part, to Frank at least, is that one day he’s thinking about that, about how David ruined so much just trying to do the right thing, and realizes he’s proud of David. David did what a lot of people would have refused to do, David took initiative, David tried his damnedest to do right. And it had destroyed everything, there had been no justice, no grand revelation of corruption.

(from Come Home)

He watches Frank like he knows the kind of pain he’s in and wants to spare him and when he realizes that, he responds the same way he always had when he’d caught Maria with that look on her face. He forces himself to act more put together, forces himself to get over the bullshit. Because Maria hadn’t deserved the concern he’d tormented her with, and maybe David didn’t either.

(from Come Home)

They’re drinking one night when David leans over and kisses him. Frank makes a point to never have more than a couple fingers of anything harder than beer, but David gets white girl wasted when he’s upset.

(from Come Home. The phrase ‘white girl wasted’ makes this)

It’s some time later that Sarah kisses him. Between the two of them, the Liebermans are going to give him some kind of fucking complex.

(from Come Home. GOD, POOR FRANK LMAO)

I can’t take it if you go, David is saying, though he’s beyond words. I will die, if you die.

He wants to tell him how wrong he is. He knows from experience. It might feel like you’re dead for a while, and you might wish you were dead for even longer, but the loss wouldn’t kill you. That was the cruelest part of it.

(from, you guessed it, Come Home. Im sorry)

Frank watches David disappear into his house and drives away before anyone else can come out and try convincing him to stay. It’s a bittersweet parting – David deserves to go home to his family. Frank’s not sure what he deserves, but he’s starting to think maybe this unending loneliness isn’t it.

(from Come Home. The good news is, that’s the end of the fic.)

(the bad news is, now it’s time for Puncture Repair)

Sarah missed Pete, maybe. Missed someone who’d snuck in, like a thief, to get close to her, to have something to hold over her husband. Who had offered comfort in a hard time. Somehow she’s missing the part where Frank could have gotten her husband killed for real. She’s missing the part where Frank’s blood brother had abducted and could have murdered her and her son. She’s missing the part where Pete was an act (until he wasn’t) and hadn’t ever been meant to mean anything to her.

If he’s honest with himself – and he’s trying to be that, more often now – he’s terrified of seeing her again, of seeing her realize how bad an idea it is for him to be around them. Because Sarah is smart, Sarah is brave and determined and wants to keep her family safe. She’s not like David, too close to see the danger.

(from Puncture Repair. Love Frank being terrified of Sarah hating him, acknowledging that she has cause to.)

And maybe that’s the right thing to do. Maybe hurting David now will help the dumbass get over this. Because Frank loves him, and he knows what his love does to people. He sees it every time he tries to sleep. He can’t stand the idea of seeing it happen again, here, in waking.

But when has he ever done the right thing where David is concerned? David had given so much to Frank; his trust, his affection, his fucking blood, pumping through Frank’s veins. Frank takes and takes because he doesn’t know how to stop. He’s greedy for what David offers, for the chance to spend some time being alive after so long of being dead.

(from Puncture Repair)

When David’s hand comes to rest, gently, on his arm, his whole body tenses up, reflex curling his fists as he snaps his head toward David, face an angry mask, warning. David doesn’t even flinch. He looks concerned, though. Not afraid – David’s not afraid of Frank because while David might be a certifiable genius, he’s still an idiot. Frank could kill him in fifteen ways without breaking a sweat, and David knows that.

His hand strokes over Frank’s arm, and Frank holds his breath. Lets it out. Breathes again.

He’s working on a lot of things. Sometimes, it even seems like he’s getting better.

(from Puncture Repair)

“It’s called a spare room, Frank,” David says, patiently and patronizing at the same time, forcing the air in the room to lighten with his stab at humor. Frank’s lip twitches. “Some even call it a ‘guest room’. Guests are people you invite into your house to –”

“I know what guests are, asshole.”

“Well, I just wonder, you know, since you act like you were raised outdoors.”

(from Puncture Repair)

He needs to leave. He should leave. He stands and glares at David instead, feet planted, hands curled. It’s like being back in the power station basement, when he had no where else to be. Part of him knows he can go at anytime, the rest of him is stripping gears in a war over whether he needs to destroy this thing happening between him and David before it gets David hurt.

(from Puncture Repair)

“You ever get tired of punishing yourself, Frank?”

David’s voice is so gentle and so tired, laced with a bitterness that is so familiar. Frank is used to people giving up on arguing with him. He knows what it sounds like.

“No,” He says sharply, because it’s easier to deny than acknowledge that there’s even a chance that David’s got him figured out.

“Now who’s lying?”

(from Puncture Repair)

“You gonna hit me, Frank?” David asks. Frank just pushes him harder against the wall, face twisted in a snarl. David smiles very gently, as if, up close, he’s seeing something too. Frank really does flinch when fingers stroke over his cheek, David reaching up to gently frame his face in his hands. “See, I don’t think you are.”

“You don’t know me, David, you think you do, but you don’t know –”

David drags him in, and Frank lets himself be dragged. The kiss is hot and inevitable and somehow furious. David hums, the sound surprised but accepting when Frank bites at his mouth. His death grip on David’s shirt relaxes, until his hands are just resting over David’s chest, holding him to the wall as David steals his breath. His eyes are blue, so blue; Frank could never look in those eyes and imagine he was with anyone else. No one had eyes like that.

(from Puncture Repair. Damn, David)

David deserves better. Frank still doesn’t know what he deserves.

(from Puncture Repair. Frank, stop being a jackass please)

“You never shut up. You tellin’ me this is all I gotta do to make you quiet?”

A little whine, indignant, helpless, and Frank chuckles. “You still think about me suckin’ you off, David?” He asks quietly, moving his hand to pull, carefully, at the button of the fly. The zipper, when he jerks it down, sounds loud in the quiet room. “What was it again? Rough, behind a dumpster? Real romantic imagery, there.”

David’s dick is hot and hard in his hand when he shoves his way past the waistband of his underwear, gripping him firmly. Fingers clutch back to his shoulder, David’s hips twitching into his touch. He leans in, so he’s talking against David’s hair, feeling the softness of those curls as he mutters in David’s ear. “What’s it gonna be, huh? There’s no dumpster, but I know you got a vivid imagination.”

(from Puncture Repair. :Eyes Emoji: amirite?)

“Lemme do this for you, Frank,” David says softly, and he’s begging, quiet and restrained but it’s still begging, pleading to be allowed to touch him. “You’re always giving for me. You never take. It’s not right. Lemme do this.”

(from Puncture Repair. Love this throwback/contradiction to Frank’s obsessive thoughts over how he’s always taking from David.)

David stands at the top of the steps, looking out at the street like he’s waiting for something he knows isn’t coming. He’s slouched more than usual, one arm wrapped around himself, half a hug, and the other held at his side, something glinting in his hand. Frank wonders if he’s drunk, and watches him turn back towards the door and decides both yes, he is, and also that he’s not too drunk. And the ridiculous urge to get out of the van passes when David turns away and opens the door, tossing back the end of whatever’s in his glass as he crosses the threshold. Frank turns the engine back on and pulls away before it can come back.

(from Memento Mori)

If asked why, Frank would never in a million years be able to answer. It’s like asking a half drowned man, why breathe when he’s offered fresh air – because it’s a need. Because he had to. He had to step in closer, bringing his hands up to brush away those tears. And when David surges against him, kissing him? He had to wrap his arms around that shivering frame, had to kiss back.

(from Memento Mori)

Frank remembers Maria touching him much the same way when he’d first come home, and god, that hurts. Hurts his heart, but maybe not as bad as it should, and he doesn’t know if that means he’s healing or not. He doesn’t even know anymore if healing is a good thing – without the pain, he’s not sure he knows how to define himself anymore.

(from Memento Mori)

What they end up doing on the floor, which is hard and cold and not exactly the ideal place, is sloppy and needy and rough. It’s months of pent up frustration, it’s finally allowing something that both had wanted and neither had dared address. Its fast and dirty and satisfying, David’s breath on Frank’s neck rabbit-quick and sharp as they grind together, shirtless, their pants hitched low. Frank thinks he’s got the feel of the hardwood against his back memorized, the way it digs and drags with every thrust and roll of David’s hips.

(from Memento Mori)

He’s thinking about wants and how they creep up on you. He’s thinking about needs, what each person in the world needs to survive, and if affection – not love, not desire, but honest affection – is one of those needs. He’s thinking about his children, dead and buried, and sleeping upstairs.

(from Memento Mori)

By some miracle the kids actually obey, letting Frank loose and running off to go chatter at David a million questions – When had Frank gotten there, where had he come from, was he staying, how long was he staying –before the tears rise in Frank’s eyes. He’s shoving them away with the heels of his hands, trying to play it off as rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, but when Sarah envelops him in a hug of her own, he knows she knows. She holds his face against her shoulder, curled over him as he sits, and combs her fingers through his hair.

(from Memento Mori)

That’s how he ends up with a fully furnished house – not just a couch and a bed to sleep on, but a table to eat at, an easy chair David likes to lay across the arms of rather than recline in normally, a coffee table he puts his feet on and Sarah, when she catches him, slaps him on the shin to make him stop, despite it being his.

(from Memento Mori. I know this is a dumb bit, but like... domesticity...)

That’s all the justification Frank needs to bring her home, and then – well would you look at that. The house, it’s… well. With Molly to come back to and a bed to sleep in, a kitchen he feels obligated to keep stocked with food because why else should he be paying for the electricity to power the fridge, a living room he entertains David’s family in sometimes – all the sudden, it’s not just a house. It’s home.

He has a home.

He blames David for that. Blaming is easier than thanking.

(from Memento Mori)

Home is three blocks away, with his dog and his own bed, but sometimes home is here, too.

(from Memento Mori)

When he’s home, though, he’s known. He is Frank, just Frank, and he is loved. He loves in return, and god – god but it’s good. It’s about the living, it’s about the living.

(from Memento Mori)

He doesn’t say he loves them, but he shows it in everything he does. He’s working up to it, working up to externalizing the things he feels so deeply. This is his family, and he won’t let anything happen to them this time. He has a second chance and he will do it right this time.

(from Memento Mori, also WHY DID I DO THIS)

Something crashes in the kitchen and the laughter cuts off as everyone turns to look at Sarah. Frank meets her eyes as her skin darkens and breaks. He’s on his feet and she’s crumbling, blowing apart in the barest breeze. Leo screams, and Frank’s head snaps back to the table, away from the horror of Sarah turning to dust, to look at his little girl and see – “no, no, no” – her skin going dull, her outstretched hand crumbling to ash as she reaches for – “no, no, no” – David, who sits in stunned shock, looking at his own crumbling hands and then up at Frank, those piercing eyes pleading in a way they never had before, and he breathes the softest curse, almost a laugh, before his face is gone and Frank looks across the table and there’s Zach – “no, no, no, wait, no” with his hands pressed flat to the table, all eyes as he watches, helpless, alone in the way the solemn child often seems to be, and slowly falls apart.

(from Memento Mori)

When he opens his eyes, he’s alone. Some trick of the breeze stirs the ashy dust in the air, drawing it toward him so his dark clothes are filmed with a fine coating of it, so he’s breathing – he gags and covers his mouth and nose, struggling.

The dust – the dust which is his family – is so thick now, floating aimless in the air, directionless as the breeze from the open door settles again. There are piles around the table and on the kitchen floor, piles of dust that he can identify by location but by no other factor as his – “oh god.”

(from Memento Mori)

When he feels a cold, wet something press against his ankle he jumps, startled, whipping around to find the threat, something – but it’s only Molly. Molly, looking scared, shivering, but whole. Molly is still here and he clings to that as he goes through the process of finding her leash, putting it on her. They need to leave the house. He can’t be here, he can’t keep – the dust is in the air, the dust is them and he can’t hold his breath so he’s breathing –

(from Memento Mori)

Memento mori, he hears David explain to him, deep in his head, in his memory. You will die.

Except it’s never him that dies.

For the living, it was for the living, the living.

Someone has done something monumentally stupid, and whether it was intentional or not, they’ve hurt his family. They’ve taken from him.

For the living, memento mori

He pulls out his phone, the very same one David left for him so long ago now, and he calls Curt. There is no answer, and his fingers leave dusty prints where the brush the numbers. He chokes out something approximate to ‘Call me ASAP please’, but he doesn’t think Curtis is in a way to make phone calls.

(from Memento Mori)

Well, Frank knows monsters, and he knows they can die.

Memento mori.

He knows he can put them down.

You will die.

He can only hope.

(from Memento Mori)

“Here in public?” David intones, thoughtful and pleasant, miles away from his old habitual nervousness. “Think about all the attention we’d get. You wanna get Pete in the papers? Maybe someone with a camera phone and a steady hand get you up on YouTube; Brave Man Fights Off Would-Be Gunman. The text doesn’t point out your pretty necklace, but everyone sees it. Everyone knows, and when the smart ones watch, they recognize the way you move. Is that how you wanna get back in the public eye, Frank,” David murmurs, smug and calm, gun pressed steadily against his spine, “everybody wondering who’s bitch you are?”

(From Never)

He thinks about the bullet tearing through, shattering everything in its path. This close, it’d be a horrific mess. Almost certain death.

His cock is hard against the sheets, and what that says about him, he doesn’t want to examine much.

(from Never. I fuckin love how fucked up Frank is)

David hasn’t known any touch but his own in almost a year. The little bit of contact he’d gotten from Frank up to now had been accompanied by pain. No wonder he’s trembling. No wonder his hands are white-knuckled fists on his knees.

(from Things Change, My Dear)

When David touches his wing, just the trace of fingers over the upper curve, he flinches away. It’s almost the same, sharp denial he’d shown Karen, and he feels his breath catch in his chest. The was a new war inside him; what he thought he deserved versus what he knew he needed. But ultimately, it was a glance over his shoulder, the sight of David’s face, so sad and so alone and so willing to just accept that Frank wouldn’t allow this after all, that makes him steady himself on his feet and lower his wings, slow and deliberate.

(from Things Change, My Dear)

A kiss is communication. It can say different things. This kiss is soft and questioning, not quite chaste. It says I’m hungry, it says I can wait. It is a promise, and a dare, and an assurance. David never takes more than is offered; David can be a selfish little shit, but he respects boundaries.

So Frank pushes his wings open, a sudden show of force that knocks David back, so his own wings flutter, just barely keeping himself on his feet. Frank turns on David, rounds on him with his wings raised, posturing without meaning to. Later, David will describe to him the way he looks in that moment, his face set, his wings aloft, stepping toward David ‘like the wrath of God’, and he’ll say that, his tone torn between amusement and awe, and Frank will have no choice but to punch his shoulder call him, affectionately, a jackass.

(from Things Change, My Dear)

Frank thinks about pulling away, and all the ways a man can do that. He thinks about loneliness so vast and dark that you were blinded by it. He thinks about the softness of a man and all the ways he could be hurt, all the ways it does and doesn’t show. Eyes so blue they can’t be real, glistening with tears, shining with fury, bright on him with delight.

At some point, he falls asleep too, and that’s better.

(from Things Change, My Dear)

You know what, i’m done, thats all i have in me. next question blease

12. favorite character to write about this year

Frank Castle, David Lieberman, or Wade Wilson. Had fun with all of ‘em.

19. any new fics to start next year

hmm, i don’t really think that far ahead. I plan to finish the last two Important, Main Plot stories for Let Them Eat Flesh before New Years. I have an idea rolling around for more Cablepool/Liebercaste crack and yes you read that correctly, so maybe that.

[maiden-of-wolves]

Ariel & Fox - Persistence

“Meeting” Scene Part 1 Part 2

This is a really long one. And we learn that Ariel’s not really a brat, ‘just' suffering on the edge of a mental breakdown from the stress. Depression fueled by anxiety is a potent cocktail. TK just brings out the drama in me. xD

This is definitely an AU to my normal AU with Ariel. She does struggle with this normally, but not to this degree. It was an interesting experience to write.

Please, if you’re battling with depression, don’t read this chapter. It will almost certainly be triggering.

Ariel spent that evening curled in bed, finally allowing herself to de-stress in the only way that worked and she could access in this world: crying. It was a pathetic pastime, but it worked. She’d had a hard time reconciling the healer that had helped her so gently and sweetly with the man who’d all but threatened her life for telling the truth. In the end, she found there was nothing to reconcile: the latter was clearly who he was. She had to give him props for being able to act so well and have a brilliant bedside manner. In one way, she wanted to figure him out and he was fascinating, but she simply didn’t want to keep risking her emotional health just to solve a puzzle. She could sleep, eat or drink some lyrium to recover her physical or even mental health… but her emotional self? That was nigh irreparable sometimes.

She forced herself to turn her thoughts to more pressing matters: the impending alliance and the fight that would ensue afterwards. Her warnings had gone virtually ignored, though it seemed like Cullen was taking some of her suggestions in putting up further spiked walls around the perimeter. Perhaps it was just because that they didn’t take much in the way of extra time and resources.

In the following weeks she poured herself back into learning Trade and pushed her curiosities about Fox aside. Venna would sometimes check on her and ask for her advice. Taevel, a young city elf recruit that had taken her under his wing since he was part of the party that found her, came to take her to training sessions every couple days. Other than that, she was left to her own devices. That was a bad idea. She fell into several different projects to keep her mind occupied and only ventured out in between to grab some bread, sneak a flask of lyrium and fill a bucket with water. She slept, but fitfully as she did her best to avoid spirits that sought her out like bugs to a light. It didn’t help that she saw and heard people’s nightmares as she walked. She wanted to help, but she was too exhausted and numb to actually put forth the effort to watch much less figure out a way to soothe them.

Had she had a mirror in her little cabin, she’d have noticed her weight loss, darkened eyes and limp, straightened hair as time went by. Varric invited her to games at the tavern and she alway politely declined with a sweet smile. He even sent Taevel once, clearly hoping to use her fondness for the younger male to coax her out. It received the same response. It was only when she had her latest project ready for testing that she came out, terribly proud of herself. She waltzed up to the watch post that was normally empty as it overlooked the lake and acted as storage. The two story height of that structure was perfect: high enough to possibly catch the updraft but not high enough to seriously hurt her if it didn’t work.

She was adjusting the stiff wings on her harness into place when she heard someone yelling at her.

“—doing?!” was the only thing she could catch as Venna came running up.

“I’m testing my project,” Ariel answered simply, offering her friend a delirious smile. “Just let me try it and I’ll be right down~”

“You’re gonna break something—”

Ariel shrugged, using the movement to help straighten out the wings. “We’ll see.” With that, she ran along the platform and leapt off.

Venna immediately began reaching out with her magic to catch her, but paused when Ariel apparently did catch some kind of updraft and she fluttered upward a good twelve feet. As quickly as that came, another gust knocked her off balance. Her fall would be quick and jerky. Thankfully, a thick bed of air was awaiting her decent and she only made a small oof in response to landing instead of the likely snap that such a harsh landing on the chilly, hard ground would have provided. “You really are insane...” Venna sighed. “Good thing I was here. Look, at least let me know when you’re going to test these things next time.”

“You’ve got better things to do than baby me,” Ariel replied, chuckling as she hopped off the bed of air and inspected her wings. Nothing was broken, which had her beaming. The first test was a partial success!

“It’s not ‘babying’. It’s caring. And we’re supposed to be friends, right?”

“Well, I’d hope,” Ariel replied, her beaming smile slipping into a self-satisfied grin. “I mean, you protected me from Cassandra and Cullen at first and we talk a lot.”

“We used to talk a lot, you mean,” Venna mused.

“Huh?”

Venna just gave a heavy sigh at that. It was little use telling her she was different. Instead, she shifted to the topic she’d intended to find her for. “There was a really good hunt today, so I wanted to make sure you came to eat something. You can’t live off bread and lyrium.”

Ariel quirked a brow and gestured to herself. “I had fat to spare,” she joked with a lopsided grin, shaking her hips to illustrate the looseness of her clothes and for added emphasis patting her stomach.

“So you did,” the Herald sighed again. “But you’re out now and at this rate you’ll need to ask Josie for a new outfit. So please stop. You’re worrying me. And Taevel. Creators, you’re worrying Varric! Though he’d never say it. He just asks about you and says you won’t play Wicked Grace.”

“I won’t play a game where I always lose? Shocking!” Ariel replied, dramatically raising a hand to her mouth and pretending to be terribly surprised.

Venna snorted and shook her head but continued on. “Point is, you need to come out more. Don’t make me drag you to the meal tonight.”

“Sure,” Ariel replied, reinforcing her answer with a quick nod. “Now that I’ve got this sorted for the moment I can take a break.”

“And you need to stop taking lyrium.”

Well that dampened her mood. She almost snapped a part of her wing harness while putting it away from the strain she put on it while distracted. “Don’t we have a fair supply now? I thought you secured some recently.”

“Yes, but it’s getting harder to deal with what you’re taking. You don’t need it, so stop taking it. I’ll make sure to tell the Quartermaster and any surface dwarves that handle it to not give you anymore.”

Ariel pursed her lips and stared at Venna. “But it helps me focus.” It was a simple argument, but truthful.

“To a point that you don’t eat more than once a day. And I assume you’re doing something similar with water, but enough to keep you on your feet. Do you even sleep? ”

“Eventually. And?”

“Scouts coming back say they always see light in that window we fixed for you no matter when they come back. Some joke that you’re afraid of the dark.”

Ariel shrugged, completely discounting the idle chit-chat of soldiers and scouts. “I’m being productive.”

“You’re pursuing projects,” Venna corrected her, gesturing to the now folded wings behind Ariel’s back. “Take care of yourself instead. Then we’ll talk getting possibly a quarter of what you’ve been taking.”

No other logical argument came to mind, so Ariel concluded that she’d lost this argument. “Fine,” she sighed.

“You’ll come?”

“Yup.”

“I’m coming to drag you out if you take too long.”

“I know.”

They were friends. Perhaps not always friendly, but still friends. Venna watched Ariel until she could no longer see her among the trees before heading into the walled portion of Haven. She didn’t have to go get her, as the brunette merely dropped off her harness around her desk’s chair before heading back out as promised.

By the time she left she felt full to bursting and she’d mixed it with a fair amount of alcohol. She vaguely remember something about singing and clapping. As she stripped down to her undergarments and settled under multiple layers of furs and then a sheet, she smiled to herself. For the first time in a long time she felt optimistic that she’d have a good night’s sleep and maybe— just maybe— she would be exhausted enough to not have to deal with the Fade.

A few days later, when she was writing notes - in Trade! - a polite knock came on her door. Venna’s insistence had brought Ariel back to a decent state, but without lyrium she was extremely tired. Even the idea of having to move to answer the door made her yawn, but she got up and wandered over anyway. “Who…?” she started, opening the door without even thinking who it could be. “Oh. You.” Probably the last person in this camp she wanted to see, but she wasn’t about to lose her manners.

Fox stood in her doorway and repeated his ostentatious bow from their first encounter. “You look much better, good. I was going to have to have the cats come scratch at your door if you didn’t return to regular meals, since you react so… violently when people do such.”

Ariel snorted, though the noise caught in her throat and turned into an odd, amused growl. “Ah, at least Mr. Sa’alle can learn!” she joked, her lips twisting into a smirk. “And for future reference I only did what I did because you attempted to corner me.” Again her mind wandered to a place she didn’t want it to, realizing that she rather enjoyed watching him. She did her best to push her thoughts fully onto the conversation and not how easily one could get lost searching his eyes. The hidden commentary of him actually paying attention to her despite his hostility during their last conversation was enough to draw her attention. “Though honestly I’m surprised you ever noticed me,” she admitted. “I kept far away from you, since our last encounter was, at the very least, strained. One I’d rather not repeat.”

Fox shrugged, but otherwise didn’t comment.

“In any case, to what do I owe your visit today?” she asked, tilting her head a good 65 degrees in her unconscious and oddly dog-like show of curiosity or confusion. “You’re not here to check up on me, it seems, and I see no kitten bribe this time…”

Fox held out a small, green, sateen pouch with an iron chain hanging out of the top. “From what you’ve told the Herald, thing will come to a head once the Breach is sealed. I thought it best to deliver this before that time.”

For a few long moments she just stared at it. “What...is it…?” she started, carefully reaching out and grasping the chain. Ariel cursed herself for being so trusting, but just pretended it didn’t matter. With just as much hesitation she gently pulled the pouch strings to see what it was hiding. The moment the bag loosened, she pulled it off. Her head tilted the opposite direction as she held the lantern it had revealed  in front of her face. She had been expecting something fancy, as that just seemed to match Fox’s personality, but this was a fairly simple construction and without any real flare. The sharp purple glow that flickered at the center was what was most interesting. “Is that...lighting?”

“Yes. A flameless lamp. Judging from my conversation with Solas, touching the glass should not trigger your resistance, but I thought it best not to risk it, hence,” he paused, gesturing to the crude iron around it. “You may be able to brighten or dim it on your own, but Solas was not forthcoming on your outward magical abilities.”

She straightened her neck, eyes widening and nodding as she listened. At his mention of Solas’s lack of information, she offered a nervous laugh. “Yeah, that’s ‘cause I’m still figuring that out,” Ariel admitted, her free hand rubbing at the back of her neck. “But this is really helpful for me. Thank you, Fox!” For once she actually smiled at him, full teeth. It was brief and she immediately moved away to try and figure out how to set it up on her desk.

“It’s mostly for in the field,” Fox said as he watched her. “The glass is nigh unbreakable and I imagine you won’t want to lose it before reaching…” He paused again. “Skyhold, you said the fortress was called?”

“Good to know. I won’t have to have a panic attack when I inevitably drop it,” she joked. His pause made her look over and just set the lantern down on her desk. “Yup,” Ariel replied easily with a nod, still figuring out just where to put it. She stared at the ceiling, wondering if she could just bash in a nail or two and hang the chain from that. “It’s amazing. I can’t wait to explore it.” She paused, chuckling again, though this time the sound was quite mirthless. “Well, that’s assuming I survive long enough to do so.” After a moment, she shook her head. There was no point getting dragged down in that. Again. Beating herself up for not being stronger wasn’t going to make her any better.

“What is going to happen, then? I caught the tail-end of the Templar refusing to evacuate people on a whim, but no details.”

Unlike before, Ariel decided to couch her words as best she could while still telling the truth. “A battle,” she replied. “A big one. But not from anyone that they’d be expecting.” The fact that Fox refused to call Cullen by his name was a little irritating to her, but she let it go. She wasn’t going to soothe over an entire lifetime of pain with blunt facts and he didn’t like her so there was little use in trying to suggest any changes to him. “Even though Cullen protested, I see that he’s OK’d several more spiked walls. So maybe he’s just hedging his bets with the cheapest defences he can think of that would still theoretically be useful.”

“You said there’s no magic where you’re from, so perhaps you simply don’t understand just how little magic it would take to destroy ‘several more spiked walls.’” Fox shook his head. “You should be insulted.”

“How can I be?” she asked in return. “As he said, technically at this point my suggestions are merely a ‘whim’.” She paused only to shrug before continuing. “Venna listens, but she is only a figurehead at the moment. Her advisors are the ones that hold the keys to the kingdom, so to speak, and I am not one of them. Both Venna and I have suggested magical defenses, but neither Cassandra nor Cullen will allow it. For various reasons, that— while they make sense— are bordering on paranoia. Leliana doesn’t fear that kind of magic, but is unwilling to alienate the templars. So, we are stuck. Council-style leadership tends to lead to equitable endings, but sometimes they end up deadlocked like this. No method is without flaws.”

“And that is why councils should not make strategic decisions that endanger hundreds of lives and incompetent, Chantry-sanctioned torturers shouldn’t be given leadership. Nevermind it, could you not make smaller predictions so that they believed in your abilities? Surely there’s something provable.”

Ariel let out a heavy sigh at his description. It wasn’t that she disagreed— frankly, she kind of agreed, but it wasn’t her call and it wasn’t the smartest option; they’d quickly be overwhelmed with opposition if the Inquisition became a massive mage army with clever and powerful mages at the head. No matter how empathetic they may have been. Ariel wasn’t from here and Venna was a dalish elf. The general unknowing public would rather have their teeth kicked in than accept help from a group like that. While she completely understood his hatred, it was surprising that an otherwise smart man like Fox would not see the basic lay of the world around him. Pushing a cart sideways doesn’t make it move. Especially when you’re not strong enough to make it topple. “I have,” she explained. “I told them who Krem was when he came to camp and that they should recruit the Chargers. That their leader would bring valuable information. I also knew and spoke of details of Leliana’s time with the warden that had apparently never been put into print. I told them what they’d find at each meeting place for templars and mages. It’s not enough.”

Fox leaned against the doorframe and lightning magic crackled along his staff’s blade. He kept tugging on his braid. “So either all three are so blindingly, pitifully, insufferably incompetent that there’s no feasible way they survived into adulthood.” He smirked. “Or, the prophecy simply will not let its machinations be avoided.”

Ariel hooted in laughter to herself at the sharp stab at the advisors. It was harsh, far too harsh, but she couldn’t deny it was truthful. “Oooh-ooh,” she paused, sucking in a breath through her teeth. “Ow. Wow… better be glad you’re talkin’ to me and I find that funny. I doubt they’d laugh.” She really didn’t want to think about his latter suggestion, but it made her sigh again. The noise was much quieter than her previous reaction and slowly the gaiety left her features. “I wonder what I’ve already changed, just being here,” she admitted quietly, fiddling mindlessly with the top of the lantern Fox had given her. She appeared to be staring at it but her focus was really on nothing. “But, if everything works as it did… there’s no way they’ll be able to say I’m not telling the truth. I just wish it wouldn’t take the casualties it will. I know a few who are in places you can save during the battle and I intend to make sure everyone makes it who can.”

“If the prophecy is immutable, there’s no sense worrying about it.” Fox shrugged. “Though now I will say I’m rather perturbed you suggested I bring mage children here for protection when you knew it would fall with extreme casualties.”

“There’s an escape tunnel. The casualties will be almost exclusively foot soldiers and support personnel. Children would certainly be the among the first to be protected and led out,” she replied.

“Clearly you’ve never worked with children on any sort of scale,” Fox said, chuckling.

Ariel gave him a deadpan look, her voice terribly sarcastic. “Clearly...”

He pointed at her. “Two score children in an emergency with almost no life experience outside of confined cells in a tower and with unstable, untrained, volatile magic is a recipe for disaster.”

“Right,” was all that she offered. She wanted to point out that it was said in good intent, but she was starting to get the feeling that that didn’t matter to Fox. “Kids also didn’t have magic back home. Just as a small reminder. Not that it matters, since you didn’t take me up on it. And I’m not in charge of anything. Good thing, too, it seems.”

“Then you might do well not to chide others for rejecting your offers, well-intended as they may be. And as a small reminder getting five children to walk in the same direction on a good day with the promise of treats at the end is a trial on the best of days, let alone two score with magic.”

“Okay, alright,” Ariel sighed, just utterly out of emotional energy. At this point, she just wanted him to leave. It was nice of him to bring her the lantern and it was really interesting… but the rest of this was another emotional rollercoaster and she wanted off. The reason why she’d avoided him so intently was staring her in the face. “Is there anything else you’d like to whip my tiny ego with, or is this session done? I’m sure you have better things to do with your time and talents.”

“Where’s this escape tunnel? I’ve not heard of it before, so doubtless it could use improvements before it’s needful,” Fox said, ignoring her self-deprecation.

Nope. Apparently he wasn’t going anywhere. Great. “Chancellor Roderick said it was a path you’d take on the summer pilgrimage and that it’d be overgrown. It’s not explicitly said where. Since Venna’s close to being ready to choose, I was planning to look for it soon. Just in case.”

“Hm, I’ll see if he deigns to tell me. I tick almost as many items on the heretic checklist as Venna.” He laughed. “Maybe I could leverage his desire to be contrary. Do you want to know where it is if I find it?”

The question echoed in her mind, overriding the concern she suddenly felt on behalf of Roderick. She didn’t like the man, but Fox was terribly intimidating when he wanted to be. Do you want to know where it is if I find it? It implied another conversation with Fox. She didn’t want that. But, at the same time, she wanted to know. It’d be useful. At the very least she could direct others to it. “Yeah. Good luck getting Roderick to tell you… but I suppose if anyone here can, it’s you.”

“Thank you. If not him, surely there are still pilgrims around I can…” He trailed off. “I’ve been made to believe that Nightengale is very good at her job, but you’re saying only the Chancellor knows of this path?”

“Supposed to be,” she answered. Ariel barely stopped herself from saying, ‘that’s what the story said’. It was still in the back of her mind, but she didn’t want to get him pissed off again if she could avoid it. “Leliana is really good at her job, but she and her scouts aren’t all seeing. And sometimes they don’t look in the right places because they seem insignificant. There are only so many hours in a day.”

“No, you misunderstand, I think this is another part of the prophecy at work. For whatever reason, it needs him to be the one that reveals it. For all we know, the Fade is blocking off any independent knowledge of it. Fascinating, if inconvenient.”

Okay, that settled it. She was going to find that damn path. It had to be somewhere around the chantry because that was the fallback point. Ariel didn’t care if she’d look strange feeling the walls for a secret passage. She just wanted to beat down this idea that the ‘prophecy’ couldn’t be changed.

“Maybe,” she offered, not wanting Fox to have any idea about her intentions. Seeing how he tended to spot her around anyway, she doubted she could hide it indefinitely… but hopefully long enough that she could find her target and be allowed one moment of satisfaction.

“If he tells me where it is, we have our answer. If not, I’ll call Ivan in. He’s more familiar with that sort of thing.”

Well that’s new, she couldn’t help but think. This clever bastard has good enough friends that he can just call on them for help? Thankfully, all that came out of her mouth was, “Ivan?”

“My retainer. He oversees the staff watching the children, mostly. Terribly practical man. He’d be able to reinforce the passageway, as well.” Fox nodded, seemingly to himself. “I’ll call him in regardless.”

Oh. So it’s not a friend. Just a guy he can order around. That fits. “Should you remove him if he’s helping with the kids, though?” she asked, only partially asking because she was legitimately concerned.

“...There are plenty of staff. Just how slipshod of an operation did you think I was running?”

Her face blanked again, tone just as flat despite the colorful vocabulary she was about toe employ. “I wasn’t trying to insult you. Jesus Christ on a fuckin’ stick. Do you comb everyone’s words for insults or is that honor distinctly mine?”

Fox just stared at her in confusion. “You explicitly asked if he could leave without it being a detriment. That’s not picking apart your words.”

“Then you could have just said ‘there are plenty of staff’. No need for the bullshit dig at my intelligence. Again.” She sighed again, something that just Fox’s presence seemed to illicit even more than normal. There was just no way to fight back with this asshole. He just got to walk all over her and it was entirely infuriating. She wasn’t a damn doormat and she certainly wasn’t stupid!

“It wasn’t any more a ‘dig at your intelligence’ than your questioning of my decision to summon him was an attack on my ability to run things properly. Perhaps it is due to things being so different in your place of origin, but you seem to be taking everything I say in the worst way possible.”

She groaned, wandering over to her desk. Ariel knew she wasn’t good with people, but this was just ridiculous. “I am entirely exhausted and in a world that—while I know a great deal about it—is in so many ways entirely foreign to me,” she started, barrelling on even as she pulled out her chair and sat down. She leaned over the desk, placing her head in her hands and just raised her voice to keep talking even though she was staring at her desk.

“I suddenly found myself able to use magic shortly after arriving, which, as you remember is not part of my world. This fancy new power I’ve never seen in person’s unstable, so I was a threat to those around me but there was no way for me to navigate daily life properly without assistance because of this new magical ‘talent’, not to mention that it’s not ‘normal’ magic so I really have it all cut out for me. That makes me a burden. My worst goddamn nightmare. I’m supposed to be a goddamn fuckin’ adult but now people have to baby me to keep other people safe?!” She ran her hands into her hair, gripping it, shocks ran along her skin and through her hair. For once she was too emotional to even register the pain that came with the unconscious usage.

“Then, on top of that I keep getting sick ‘cause the bullshit here isn’t the same as at home. So I’m even more of a burden. Weak physically and a danger to those around me. So it’s like, why are they even keeping me around? Isn’t it better for everyone to just force me to write everything I know down and kill me? So, since they apparently aren’t going to do that, I do every damn thing I can to help people or improve myself so I’m less of a complete failure at life and never ask for assistance. Because the moment I do, I’m a burden.” No one ever said these things to her, Ariel realizes even as she speaks, but it all comes out anyway, including the tears that she was trying her hardest to keep away until he left.

“Then you and your distracting eyes and pretty hair and soft smile come along and turn all that upside down; forcefully deny me the only way I know how to not be a damn burden. So I get around it, try to stop it, and it’s straight up stolen from me because Venna somehow thought you’d help me. I had to relinquish what little control I had over myself just because everyone else thinks they know what’s good for me,” she coughed, taking in a deep breath both because she needed to and to clear her sinuses from the tears that were still slipping over her cheeks.

“Then I make the fatal mistake of having feelings and thinking you give any single shit because you cared about my health— because, you know, I kinda trust Venna and her assessment of people— when in fact you just wanted to pry the ‘prophecy’ shit from me and fuck off. And intimidate the fuck out of me in the process, of course. You’d seen what an overload of magic does to me, then put on a lightshow right next to me while clearly pissed the fuck off about how I talked. Not that it stopped me, because, clearly, I’m stupid as a goddamn rock. Magic wasn’t a thing, and I haven’t been in battle yet. It’s terrifying when it’s not coming from me. I felt that lightning in my bones. Every hair stood on end. I tried not to think about another overload from a powerful and pissed off mage, one that could kill me this time and probably think nothing of it. I still think about it even though I did my damndest to throw myself into anything else so that I wouldn’t have time to think about it. Or you.” She paused only to take another deep breath to try and clear her airways before dragging her hands out of her hair. They slammed onto the desk with a sense of desperate frustration, crackling loudly with sparks that almost reached the ceiling. Thankfully the wooden desk and papers didn’t seem keen on catching fire for the moment.

“And NOW you show up here with a cute and interesting gift and for a moment I feel like maybe it’ll be okay. Then I get myself dragged into arguing with you about stupid shit that I admit was stupid but keep somehow stepping in every. Single. Goddamn. Pothole. Possible. It’s like my words are a shovel and I say even one,” she emphasized her word by putting up a finger for a moment before putting it down. “And I just fuck up. Entirely. I can’t handle my magic, so I’m nothing but a danger; I get sick from anything and everything so I’m nothing but a burden; I can’t fight so I have to be taught, taking away resources from actual fighters— so I’m nothing but a burden yet again. Now I can’t even talk?! What does that even mean? Do I need my mouth sewn shut like those Saarebas? It brings me back full circle! Like, why the fuck don’t I just write down every little detail I can think of to the stupid fuckin’ ‘prophecy’ now that I can actually kind of write Trade? Then I could just ‘disappear’ and everyone’d be better off! Including me!”

She seemed to go quiet for a moment, taking several deep breaths, her face running through a plethora of expressions. It settled, strangely, on a tiny smile and a thousand-yard stare. “There’s plenty of wild animals around here,” she spoke up again. “None the wiser ‘cause they’d eat everything,” she continued, actually letting out a mirthless chuckle at the idea. She shuffled her papers around, trying to find one that was relatively empty before pulling it to the front and grasping for her pen. “Or maybe I could just wander into a patch of rogue mages. The overload’d kill me, I’m sure. Or those twitchy rogue templars, after seeing a little fireworks display to confirm my magic. I’m sure they’d know where to stab.”

She wrote out the Trade for ‘The Prophecy’ and underlined it at the top of the page. The thought of this is all that matters echoed heavily in her mind. Externally, nothing changed aside from her tapping the page a few times before actually beginning to write in her very rudimentary chicken-scratch about what will happen to Haven. “Or maybe I should talk Cassandra into getting a Rite done on me.” While normally the idea of the Rite of Tranquility horrified and terrified her, in this moment it wasn’t either. She’d still ‘live’; enough to talk and give them the information they needed whenever they needed it. It was the smartest option. The best one. “It’d be nice to not have to deal with the Fade. Or emotions.” She muttered several things under her breath as she kept working, completely ignoring her puffy, tear-stained face and slight trouble breathing. The only partially encouraging sign was the fact that her magic was no longer flaring up. She had a path now. Multiple choices in how the ending went, just like the game. Except, this time, the choice really was hers.

A cat meowed loudly and headbutted Ariel’s leg. Absentmindedly, she reached down and petted the cat. “I can’t play now.” She wrote fairly quickly for someone that normally felt very uneasy about her ability to write Trade. Haven will be attacked. By an army bearing no flag.

“I don’t expect you’re up to much of anything,” Fox said gently. He’d move further in from the door, but had left his staff there. He was standing out of arm’s reach and was hunched a bit so as to not seem so tall.

“I can write,” she answered, no real inflection or emotion behind the words. It was just a statement of fact. “And that’s all I need to be able to do now.” Varric knows who leads this army. A creature, once a man, but now a darkspawn. A man who walked into the Golden City and found it empty.

“I shudder to think what kind of horrible place you came from that you think so little of your worth. People have value, prophecy or not.” Fox sighed. “And you can keep writing, but I assure you Venna will burn whatever it is, if only to keep you from doing something drastic.”

She laughed at that, a terribly hollow sound from her normal happy bray of a laugh. Still, she didn’t look up. “You assume that Venna will know a damn thing. It’s the smart choice. I give everything I have to offer, everything important, and I stop being a drain on resources.” She continued writing. Hawke killed him, but he doesn’t stay dead. Any blighted creature nearby is his new host and he is reborn. This includes Wardens.

“I was given this house so I wouldn’t be as much of a danger. Drain. Could be used in so many better ways. A longer term clinic, a schoolhouse for the few kids that are here… so many ways. Yet, here I am, taking up space because I’m dangerous.” Another paragraph. He’ll come with a dragon that looks like an Archdemon. While this is his greatest tool, it is also his weakness. Since it is also a part of him, if you kill the dragon, then kill the Blighted Magister Corypheus and have no tainted people or creatures nearby… he will die.

“I can tell her everything you’ve said here, which will, to your mind, increase the burden you’re putting on her, or you can stop for a moment and speak with me properly.”

Ariel swore he’d be able to hear the gears grind to a halt in her head. She certainly felt them. How dare he? She had a plan. A good plan for once in her goddamn life! And he just watlzes in and ruins it. She hadn’t said all this, nor felt most of this until he showed up and started messing with her. And now he was going to put her in a position of being the worst kind of burden there was: emotional.

She did what she always did when she was trying to school her emotions: take a deep breath and let it out slowly. The cat rubbed up against her leg again and shockingly she rolled her eyes. She knew it was Fox, but there had never been a time that she’d turned down a cat’s affection with anything less than an apology. She shook her head, leaning over to wrap her hand around the cat’s middle and quickly shifted it up into her lap. Ariel made sure it was at least somewhat situated before pushing with her feet against the desk to drag the chair back. Looking at Fox was the hardest part. She immediately took notice of what he’d done, gaze flickering to the staff by the door and back to him. A laugh welled up in her throat at the fact that he was even hunched over a bit, but thankfully she swallowed it down. For more grounding, she indulged the cat that was headbutting her arm for attention. “So? I’m stopped. For a moment.”

“How many refugees has the Inquisition taken in?”

“I have no idea,” Ariel answered flatly. “I’ve never helped with admissions.”

“But there are some. Do you consider them worthless burdens? Do you think Thedas would be better off if they died or disappeared?”

Ariel finally saw the connection he was trying to draw. “No,” she answered slowly. “But I’m not just some desperate field hand looking for shelter from demon-spewing rifts. I’m a mage. And an unstable one at that. It’d be like taking in a dracoling. I’ve burnt down two buildings while I was sleeping already. Guess you didn’t hear about that yet. Or maybe you didn’t ask if anyone knew me. Though Venna probably wouldn’t have told you either.”

“Do you think I should throw out the children that start fires, then? Simply because their magic is uncontrollable from fear and worse?” Fox quirked an eyebrow.

“You really think I’m a monster, don’t you?” she asked, words spilling out of her mouth before she could think on it. “That’s inhumane. They’re kids! Who would do that?” She looked away from him, mumbling onwards, “I mean, I guess some magic-fearing parents might, but that’s still awful!”

“What about the teenagers? At what age do they stop being children? When should I tell my people to kick out the ones that haven’t the control? Did your story tell you about the Harrowings in the South? Should I institute those?” He examined his sleeve and brushed off some dirt.

“Yes, they told me about the Harrowings. They shouldn’t be done on anyone that’s just brought in. Regardless of age. Even those that are prepared are often too terrified to do well. And that’s not right. It’s throwing bait fish into the water with sharks and expecting the bait fish to escape.” She sighed and shook her head. “But I’m not in charge of your kids, so these questions are just a theoretical exercise.”

“So you agree that throwing them out, forcing them to learn at some set pace, threatening them with Tranquility if they don’t perform certain standards is ridiculous at best? That’s my impression.”

“Yeah,” she muttered in reply. She knew what he was doing: he was attempting to systematically dismantle her own feelings and the manipulation was quickly pushing her back into fury. First he denies her the way to remove the burden of sickness because he knows better, now he throws away a sacrifice of a willing participant because, no doubt, he thinks he knows better? She seethed internally, but for the moment it remained hidden. “But do you think it’s alright to allow someone who is terrified of their power and finds the removal of emotions as a boon rather than a deterrent request the Rite themselves?” If he was going to speak in hypotheticals, so could she. It would certainly be an interesting answer, considering he was a mage. From Tevinter, where that Rite is probably akin to a terrifying ghost story told to mage children to scare them into behaving.

“Absolutely not,” Fox said when vehemence, “because that is not what the Rite does. Divine Justinia discovered that. That’s the entire reason the South is tearing itself apart. Tranquility does not remove emotions, it makes the Tranquil unable to act on them. They are forced to bottle them up, just as you have since you arrived here. The Tranquil Pharamond went mad when the Rite was reversed.”

Ariel had known that most went mad when the Rite was reversed, but she hadn’t been aware of the idea that it didn’t at least dull emotions. “That would be like… a spinal injury. Unable to communicate, but still very much aware.” Her brows knitted, eyes closing a moment later. “I haven’t kept them bottled up the entire time,” she finally spoke up again. “My mind just…” A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head. “I’m beyond useless when I just let myself feel what it’d want me to. Anxiousness over a failure two days past that blows up into stress and tears because I can’t fix it. Depression follows the tears. Mania— the spurts I go through where I can focus… is the only way I get anything done. If I take a break, I’m almost immediately back to anxiousness, stage one. I can reason with myself until I’m blue in the face in that state, but it doesn’t stop the stress.” Speaking of which, she paused, to wipe at her face before more tears fell. “I had ways of coping at home, ways of releasing stress properly. And meds. Don’t have those here. I’m telling you, Fox, it would be much better for everyone if I just wrote everything down and disappeared. I’ll probably eventually work myself to an early death if I don’t get caught up in a fight I can’t win when Haven’s attacked.I might as well make sure that I write everything down before then. Just in case.”

Fox spent several minutes thinking before he finally said, “So you’re aware, academically, of the depression and that it can be treated?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice little more than an exasperated sigh. “But we don’t have the meds necessary here to treat it properly and I have no idea what kinds of natural remedies could be made in its stead.”

“Believe me, the Circles of Minrathous and Asariel alone would fall if there was nothing to be done for depression. Nevermind the Magisterium at large. I apologize for not realizing sooner this was a problem. I have been busy, as you can imagine.”

“No,” Ariel snapped, though her voice was choked. She wiped at her face again and sniffed, trying to allow her anger through the stress. “You’re not going to take on my goddamn mental problems. You’ve got far more important things to be doing than babysitting a grown woman who should be able to take care of herself. Shifting the massive burden onto you is still a damn burden!  Just… stop…”

“Ignore that for a moment. Academically, tell me, this kind of hopelessness you have, this desire to be Tranquil and thoughts of worthlessness, do you acknowledge that it is part of the condition? You said knowing doesn’t make you feel better; I don’t expect it to, just tell me again, that you know these things are symptoms.”

“Of course it is!” she replied with a breathless and mirthless laugh. “And I do my best to make sure no one else feels like this. ‘Cause it feels like absolute shit.”

“Yes, so if these feelings are merely a symptom of the larger problem, do you think it’s responsible to act on them in this fashion?”

“‘This fashion’?” she echoed. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”

“You feel hopeless because of the depression and instead of treating that depression, you are acting on the hopelessness. I suggest at least trying some of the tinctures for it before resigning yourself to death.”

“Who knows if they’ll even work,” she mused. “Considering that magic doesn’t. And the illnesses are different. I’d try ‘em, if that’s actually a thing. But who knows.” She let out another breathless and mirthless laugh, a tiny smirk pulling at her lips. “They might kill me. That’d be nice.”

“I think your disinterest in trying is likely another symptom.” He sighed and rubbed his temples. “It will take some time for the tinctures to arrive from Asariel. My mentor will mix them himself, but time. Will you at least stop planning for death until then?”

“It was a joke,” Ariel assured him, her laugh actually accompanied by a toothed smile. “One in poor taste, maybe,” she admitted. She was relieved, were she honest with herself. Her smile barely faded as she looked down at the cat that had been obediently sitting on her lap this whole time despite her outbursts. In the back of her mind she was fairly certain it was due to Fox’s charm over it, but she was grateful regardless. “I…” she started again after a few long strokes at the cat’s fur. She looked up at Fox, worried again but hopeful. “Are you certain this isn’t a burden, Fox? You have a lot to do. I don’t want to make things more difficult for you.”

“Ordering a tincture is no trouble. I’ve a letter I was sending already, though I’ve made a note that Haven might not be the return destination. Even if you lost your memories today, Venna would lose her mind if something happened to you. Perhaps when you’re more settled we can be friends.”

She had no idea why just the mention of a maybe friendship made her happy. Unconsciously she rocked side to side for a moment as she let the information sink in. “Well, I don’t think she’d lose her mind,” she finally said, laughing softly as she looked down again and moved her hand to pet around the cat’s chin. “But she’d probably be sad, I guess. I make her laugh sometimes and don’t treat her like the Herald.” She swallowed, feeling a bit silly for what she wanted to say, but decided to say it anyway. Nothing could be more ridiculous than what she’d already done, after all. Looking up at Fox again, she offered a rather timid assurance. “I’ll work hard to make sure I can be a good friend.”

Fox nodded and stood at his full height. “Good. I’ll check on you later, too, but I need to send that message to Ivan, as well.”

Ariel smothered a laugh in the back of her throat. “Honestly,” she began with a small exhale. “I’ll probably be asleep. I was running on fumes. On emotion, even. I can’t run on nothing. Maybe things will leave me alone in the Fade if I just lay down there, too.”

“We can only hope.” He nodded to the cat. “He’ll stay with you tonight. Longer, if he likes you. I’ll let you know about the passage.”

She looked down at the furball in her lap, smile flashing across her lips again. “Well, maybe I can bribe him with food when I can drag myself back out of bed. I’d love a furry friend.” A sheen appeared in her eyes again and she frantically wiped at them before looking up at Fox again. “Thank you. And, I’m really sorry. For everything.”

“You’re welcome, but don’t apologize for needing help. It’s what makes us people.”

“Is that it?” she asked, a faint smile on her lips but a rather confused expression her face. “That’s the puzzle piece to make humanity. Needing help? Hm.” It was certainly something to think about. She was raised to be fiercely independent, partially because help would be given if you asked but held over your head later. A reminder of how you failed.

Fox smiled, but it was wane and didn’t reach his eyes. “As much as I’ve been able to see.” He cleared his throat and his expression shifted back to soft kindness. He stepped towards the door. “Regardless, I’ll leave you to your rest.”

The wish had been in the back of her mind since he’d insisted their were methods for treatment but she’d pushed it away. As the opportunity faded, she found herself scrambling. She gently picked up the cat in her lap and set him down just as gingerly. He meowed at her, then yawned, as if upset that she’d moved him from his resting place. “Fox? Can I… uhm…” She felt weird asking about this, honestly, and the embarrassment was clear on her face. But, she reasoned, it would have been weirder to just do it. “Hug you?”

Fox held up his hand to stay her movement for a moment, then patted himself down. There was a quiet sizzle as he deactivated the active spells on his robes. “Of course, though given your reaction to magic, it would be best to ask first. As you saw.”

At first she just tilted her head again, confused by his reaction, but as she watched and felt her hair briefly flutter at the back of her neck from the released magic it made some sense. For the moment she was distracted from her actual request and blinked several times as she tried to process exactly what she’d seen. “Ye-yeah… do all Tevinter robes do that?”

Fox opened his mouth immediately, but then closed it. “I’m not sure. Better to be safe than sorry, though. We’re very casual with magic use, unlike here in the South.”

She nodded, mentally noting that she’d need to ask Dorian if his had that kind of thing on them too. She really didn’t want to feel overloaded if she could avoid it. It was weird, but she had to actually gather courage to move. When she did, though, she made sure that her furry friend wasn’t by her feet or in her way before all but jumping into him and wrapping her arms above his waist. She was actually glad for the height difference because it was easy for her to bury her face in his chest. The immediate scent of metal that greeted her nose made her wonder if she’d bitten her lip in the movement but a quick swipe of her tongue proved otherwise. A faint undertone of freshly baked bread was soothing and she barely kept herself from pulling out a very weird ‘you smell nice’.

Fox patted her back gently. “Get some rest, Ariel. The attack is soon and there’s much to do.”

Well that wasn’t helpful. Ariel heard the thought echo loudly in her head. While the reminder may possibly have been necessary, the timing was horrendous. “Right,” she muttered, pulling away entirely without so much as another glance at Fox. Any gaiety that she’d come to the interaction with was gone. Her mind immediately began running through scenarios. Going through what she’d have to do to make sure the key support characters would survive. Running over possibilities regarding possible changes since she was here. She already knew she’d have to go with Venna— Ariel was 99.9% certain that the voice she always heard calling for her in the Fade was Corypheus. His intervention, or perhaps that of another Evanuris beyond Solas, were the only possibilities she’d ever come up with while turning the situation over and over in her head. She wandered back to the bed, sitting down. She could still easily see Fox and the door. “Thanks again,” she offered. It was the only thing she could think to say. He’d already told her not to apologize.

Fox continued leaving, but stopped at the door. He didn’t turn to look at her. “I’m neither stupid nor oblivious. I won’t push now, but if you don’t take care of yourself, I will go to Venna.”

“I never said or implied you were either of those,” Ariel growled. For a brief moment she’d felt like they’d actually made some progress, but here they were again. “But go ahead, keep accusing me. It makes me want to disappear even more.” She barely bit back a comment about making a pact with a demon for invisibility so that they couldn’t find her until it was too late. That would indeed be stupid. Any pact with a demon went poorly, from what she knew, and she wasn’t willing to test if it could be otherwise.

“I can’t spend all evening holding your hand and convincing you these aren’t accusations. I can only imagine no one’s shown any concern towards you that’s not been rooted in cruelty that that’s the only thing you can hear, but that can’t be fixed at once and I can’t be expected to know exactly how to phrase things.”

Honestly, she wasn’t sure how else he could have meant what he said, but there was no argument to be made and even if there was, she was too tired to make it. “No, I suppose you can’t. And I certainly don’t want you sitting here babying me. I just need to learn to shut up. Or, at least, think about the larger context first.” She shook her head, disappointed and exasperated with herself. “Thanks, Fox. And sorry. Again. I’ll just curl up with my temporary furry friend. Thank you for bringing him.”

“He will stay as long as he’s needed. Rest. Rest and remember that you agreed not to do anything permanent until you’ve tried the tinctures. People are worried for you.”

“I know,” was all she offered in reply, but to what statement she didn’t specify. The cat was staring up at her from the floor and she managed a small smile for him. She didn’t bother removing her clothes as she moved the furs and sheet, knowing that she’d taken off her boots when she first came back and that is the only thing she cared about in terms of messing up her bed. Slipping under them was more comforting than she’d thought. The weight keeping her still and the warmth she naturally radiated was trapped in an intense heat that just barely stayed below the level that would have her sweating.