#And WHAT WAS HE DOING IN A LOFT IN SOME CONSTRUCTION SITE?

[katkalis-the-horror-fanartist]

Had a random ass dream of the Ferryman from LN (or looked a TON like him) being my romantic partner...

Unsure how to feel or what to think-

[dharmasharks]

And you, you must’ve been looking for me

Post-canon Brooklyn boys, wistful wandering, and knowing the way back. [Teen & up | 0.7K]

Wee ficlet below the cut for @stuckybingo | square N1: Napping | October challenge: Fog + Coffee.

It’s not the first night Bucky spends this way. Feet to pavement, one step and the next, breathe in, breathe out. Until darkened brownstones fall behind the expressway, until the neighborhood flattens at the East River. Breathe in, breathe out, until he’s gotten himself lost enough for the shapeless panic to stop vibrating inside his chest. 

Tonight though, under a thick fog, all that newness falls behind a veil. The twelve-hundred dollar strollers chained to U-shaped bike racks. The cat cafe he loves and the deli he doesn’t. The sprawling Greenway, where some shitty little kid swiped his bocce ball mid-turn. The paper recycling plant, which is not a paper recycling plant. 

(“Coming Soon,” Steve read from a broad sign at the construction site, “Urban Industrial Chic Coworking Loft Space.”

“What,” Bucky said, “the fuck.”)

Even the changed angles of lower Manhattan fade across the river, leaving him all alone in the past with the same cobblestones under his footsteps. The cables of Brooklyn Bridge suspended above the sky. Breathe in, breathe out that same low-tide smell where the old bones of the old pier 1 jut out from the mist. 

He can’t seem to settle like this. Surrounded by ghosts. 

So it’s one step and the next until he’s past the mums on their stoop that he forgot to water, up and up into their third floor walk-up. Their prewar apartment, but not their prewar apartment. Not from before. That’s just what you call it now instead of calling it old. 

(When the realtor’s back was turned, Steve had grandly swept one hand down his body. “All this historic charm in one place,” he said. Because he is a historic dork.)

Bucky opens their door as quietly as he can, which is not very, because it jams in the frame without a sharp yank. It doesn’t matter; Steve’s up anyway with the Sunday Times strewn across the couch. 

It is a ridiculous couch. High-backed and deep-set and too big for the room. In crushed velvet, midnight blue. Dark enough to show every strand of white cat hair, with a long enough chaise for even Steve to stretch his long damn legs, like he’s doing now.

Steve loves this ridiculous couch. Which meant Bucky had to practically sit on him until he bought it. It wasn’t that it was too impractical or nice or expensive, though it is all those things. It’s just that it’s hard for Steve to let himself have things like that. Things that’d make him happy. 

Steve’s working on that.

Even now, his smile is fragile but hopeful. And he looks so tired, but not of Bucky’s laundry list of bullshit. He never is. And it never gets easier to believe. And Bucky is working on that.

He stumbles out of his boots and drops his tightly-would body onto the cushions, his head to Steve’s lap.

“Mmf,” he groans. An apology. An admission of defeat.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, sliding his hand across the small of Bucky’s back. Radiating a heat that melts as it spreads. Bucky turns his face into Steve’s body, nudges his shirt up, and presses lips and nose to the soft skin of his belly. Resting there.

With Steve’s hand in his hair, combing from roots to ends, Bucky finds the edge of that slow drop. Not the sharp fall that visits him plenty, but the kind of sleep you float into. The way a feather falls from a great height. 

Breathe in, breathe out the newsprint on Steve’s fingertips, the drip coffee brewing on the counter. The nights into mornings at the diner in their old neighborhood—in this neighborhood, before they got old. Back when Bucky could still name all the restless fears buzzing under his skin, but it was okay, he was okay, because Steve would wait up with him. 

God, this man. He would wait forever, he has waited forever. He will keep waiting forever. That certainty: it is a long, long thread tied and knotted around Bucky’s ribs. The gentle pull that keeps calling him home.

[bomberqueen17]

tiny house saga

A long-awaited post of progress photos.

Starting with the most recent, and then i’m putting the long thing behind a cut:

[image description: interior of the cabin, looking down from the sleeping loft at the expanse of the roof rafters and the floor below, where a door in the south wall, newly installed, stands propped open.]

I should tell the whole story. So in like.... what was it... October or November of 2019 I had the yurt I had been sleeping in during the summers for 3 years on my sister’s farm burn down due to a chimney failure with my woodstove. Plans began somewhat immediately to build a tiny house to replace it, and I’d found some free plans and my dad was plotting with me to use salvaged materials and such. The house was going to be really tiny, like 10x12 feet or so, with a tiny sleeping loft, and somewhat ramshackle probably; I’m sure we weren’t going to insulate it.

Then the pandemic hit, and shit got weird, and no progress was made. I spent 2020 sleeping in my sister’s guest room whenever I was at the farm, since nobody else could visit anyway. And then my father died suddenly, in December of 2020, and it seemed silly to mourn the concept of the tiny house, but I was also really grieving the experience of doing a project with my Dad, which i’d really been looking forward to-- my nephews were both old enough that he was starting to teach them welding and such, and I’d thought the boys and Dad and me could spend some time on this and would have a good time and just-- it was really awful to realize that of course now it’ll never happen.

Without me saying anything, my brother-in-law, the one who owns the farm with Farmsister, on whose property all of this was supposed to have taken place, approached me and said we could still build a house, and that he’d help instead. He has construction experience, but is so busy I hadn’t wanted to expect his help except for maybe some of the big work. But he said no, he’d step in.

In March of 2021 we took a family trip-- me, BIL, Mom, my older sister, and one of her sons-- to Jamaica, VT, where the Jamaica Cottage Shop has its fabrication yard. We looked at an example and I decided to buy their Vermont Cottage plans, in view C, for the 16x24 size.

Yeah, it’s a far cry from the tiny shack I’d planned to build, but I had resolved that if i was going to involve BIL, it was going to be something that was nominally up to code, built with new materials, and would be usable for decades, rather than some weird fun little project that would be full of spiders and eccentricity. The increase in cost wasn’t that much with the increase in size (once i committed to using new rather than salvaged materials), so I went for it.

Immediately we had to revise the plans, but BIL was confident. In May I bought the first lumber, to build the skids, and along with it, a battery-operated electric nail gun. We built the skids, and also excavated the site, and backfilled it with gravel sourced from a natural gravel deposit on the farm; I also spent the summer picking buckets of rocks out of the fields and hauling them over a few at a time. I probably moved about 1 ton of rocks by hand, and then BIL carried over about 15 more tons with the tractor.

I ordered several thousand dollars’ worth of supplies, lumber and others. The insulation and windows and doors and the like were stashed in a spot that flooded in July, when a flash flood caused a large amount of damage to the farm, but nothing was lost. In August we finally got the skids set and began to assemble the platform upon which the whole thing was going to be built.

[image description: a grid of lumber sits atop cinder blocks in a cleared space among greenery, with trees in the background.]

We were delayed by a labor shortage on the farm, but mostly by a delay in the delivery of the lumber from the mill I’d ordered it from, a local place that had apparently not adequately maintained their equipment and so was shut down for weeks at a time for maintenance.

But eventually we had everything. And at the end of September, my other brother-in-law showed up, with a lot of woodworking and finish carpentry experience, and also some free time, and with him working steadily for a week, and a number of assorted characters rotating through, we made rapid progress.

[image: farm-BIL, a tall thin white man in a khaki baseball cap, kneels on a wooden platform, screwing down a sheet of plywood. To his right stands Army BIL, a well-built white man in a camoflage baseball cap, hands on hips, looking up at the skyline, atop the plywood-sheathed platform.]

In a matter of days, Army-BIL had done the rough framing, and had started putting in the interior wall siding. (The cabin is constructed inside-out, with the framing, then the interior siding, then rough 2x4 nailers, then insulated wallboard, and only then a final moisture barrier with rough board-and-batten siding overtop.)

[image description: the rough-framed walls of a house stand, the nearest one faced with tongue-and-groove interiorsiding with a window and door cut out, and inside on a scaffold stands a boy in a blue t-shirt (my older nephew, then 12), holding up a pair of rafters in their approximate rough final places, while Army-BIL stands on a ladder making measurements inside the house.]

By the end of the last week of September, my older sister’s sons and husband had, with some help from various of the rest of us, framed in the rafters as well.

[image: my older sister, a tall thin white woman in a dark gray ballcap worn very low over her face what are you doing, stands holding several boards; to her left, her husband affixes the other end of one of the boards to another rafter. Below her, two boys in blue shirts, her sons, are climbing on the scaffolding.]

And there progress halted for the winter, but for some incremental improvements-- I stapled hardware cloth around the base of the platform, burying the bottom of the hardware cloth as deep as I could manage to deter groundhogs, rats, mice, or raccoons from making their home under the house, and we got the rafters done and then secured big billboard tarps over them for the winter.

In March, we took the tarps back off, and it looked like this.

[image description: looking into the house from the east, sun shining brightly, rafters highlighted against blue sky, the walls are all covered in the interior siding of pine, and there’s a scaffolding inside still set up.]

We got the nailers on all around the lower storey, and slotted the insulation panels in-- I discovered that I had just the tool for the job to cut the panels, since they’re too thick for utility knives-- yes, that lady’s leg shaped knife I got for my birthday. Worked like a charm, am delighted. Once that was up, we could wrap the whole house in moisture barrier-- well, most of it, just not the part above the deck, which we’d have to work on separately.

[img description: the house from one corner, showing silver-colored panels labeled DuPont wedged in among the wooden nailers surrounding the windows.]

The roof needed a layer of sheathing, and Dude helped me with that. i found out he hates ladders, which i somehow had never learned thusfar in 19 years with him. Now I Know. Mostly, though, BIL did all that work, and in one uncomfortably epic day we finished the roof sheathing and then drafted my sister into helping us put the rubber Tyvek roofing underlayment over the top of it. The loft was still not enclosed, but we’d framed in the window, and so we left the underlayment long and stapled it down over that missing half-wall, to make the whole shebang weatherproof.

Then we got the door on that side installed, and it was largely weatherproof.

[image description: the porch side of the house, with green Tyvek strips messily stapled down at angles, in the upper part, and then on the lower floor a white steel door with a window sits, not quite closed, with no doorknob.] We installed a doorknob too, because otherwise the door wouldn’t stay closed.

In April we came back and pulled up the Tyvek, trimmed it off, and put the interior siding up on the upper storey. Once we had that, we installed all the windows-- well, the 7 downstairs windows, and then later in the week we managed to get the upper storey window installed too.

[img description: from the interior of the house, with the loft foreshortened so you can’t tell it’s a loft, farm-BIL is visible with his legs, standing on a ladder, showing through the open doorway and his head and shoulders through the window he’s installing in the upper storey. The roof is visibly made of sheathing boards, the gaps between them illuminated green where the roofing underlayment is on the outside of the sheathing.]

Farmsister and I came and fixed that upper storey window so it’s a bit straighter, once we got the housewrap on and correct. it’s tricky because what do you level it to?? Hard to say. Anyway. It’s in there.

We got the second door installed too, in the south-facing wall. And that’s where we’ve left it-- still needs the metal roof on the exterior, and the insulation and interior siding on the ceiling on the interior; still needs soffits put in, as the eaves are open to the elements and the breeze (and bugs) can sorta whistle through there at will; still needs a floor installed over the rough plywood subflooring; still needs conduit put in for what plumbing and electrical there may or may not be. But as it is, I’m going to see about at least building myself a sleeping nest in the loft; I don’t want to move furniture in, since it still needs to have scaffolding put up for the ceiling and the more I move in now the more I have to move out later, but the loft is largely done and move-in-ready enough to be getting on with.

(I may need a mosquito net, if I spend any time in there.)

I leave you with a view from the loft.

[image description: in the foreground there’s a little corner of the loft floor, but then the rest of the frame is looking out into the house. The south-facing door is propped open with a rock, extra scaffolding is stacked against the west wall, the light is coming green through the roofing underlayment showing in the cracks between the sheathing, and you can see two lovely 3x4-foot windows in the west wall.]

[apocalypseornaw]

Real Feelings

For the square *fake dating* on @girl-next-door-writes bingo

You pulled up to the newest construction site and parked next to Bobby’s truck. Him and Dean would be around here somewhere Ellen had tasked you with delivering the crew’s lunch order from the diner. You stepped out the truck then leaned back in to grab the box that held the food. When you heard someone call your name you nearly dropped the box. It was Micheal, your ex boyfriend who you’d been engaged to for a short time until he’d broken it off because in his words “This will never work out and it’ll cause less heartbreak now” you hadn’t seen him in a few years. 

You plastered a smile on your face as he moved to help you grab the box “Hi Michea! How have you been, what are you doing here?” he motioned around the lot “I’m here to meet with Dean and Bobby.They found a way to work around a design flaw I didn’t think about. What are you doing here?” you motioned to the box in your hand “Ellen, Bobby’s wife asked me to bring lunch” 

He smiled and waved a hand towards the trailers that held the temp offices “Then we’re headed in the same way. How’ve you been?” you nodded “Can’t complain, you?” he ran a hand across the back of his neck and you knew that as a tell he was nervous about something so when he started the next sentence with “Well actually I was going to call you” your stomach knotted. Why was he calling you? “Because?” you questioned so he grinned “I’m getting married. It’s a whole thing that’ll be up in the mountains. Charity, you remember Charity don’t you?” you nodded because yes you did in fact remember Charity. She was the greek goddess Micheal had met a few months after your split. She was gorgeous and sweet enough to meet sugar in her mouth. “Well she wanted to know if you’d like to come. Now it’ll not just be the wedding. My father is having a grand opening of the resort we’re using as well so there’ll be plenty of activities to do. You always did love the snow”

You walked up the steps next to him and knew your emotions were plainly written across your face because the next thing he added rather quickly was “And of course, if you’re seeing someone he can come along as well” you wracked your brain thinking of anyone you could use to keep from looking like you hadn’t gone this long without a lasting relationship considering he was getting married for real this time. “I’ll have to talk with him” you replied and could see his eyebrows go up slightly “Anyone I know?” you stepped into the door and as you did blurted out the only name that popped into your head “I’m actually seeing Dean” Micheal stopped in his tracks “Winchester?”  you breathed a sigh of relief to see Dean wasn’t in the office yet then nodded “Yeah about a year now” “Can’t say I’m surprised” he muttered and you were about to ask why when the door opened to Dean walking in.

“Hey baby!” you called moving to hug him then whispered in his ear “For the love of god go along with it. I’ll owe you” he gave you a look but pressed a quick kiss to your cheek “Hey to you too sweetheart” then nodded to Micheal “Hey man” you knew Dean was probably wondering what was really going on considering he was watching you as you laid his and Bobby’s food down then walked out to take the other food to the crew. Bobby had joined him and Micheal by then so Dean excused him by saying “Bobby I’m gonna walk Y/N. Make sure she’s wearing her hardhat this time” Bobby nodded then turned his attention back to the plans he was showing Micheal.

------

Once you and Dean were outside he cut his eyes at you and took one of the boxes out of your hand “So darling, when did we start seeing each other?” you grimaced then explained “I’m so sorry but he caught me by surprise. I didn’t know this was one of his dad’s builds then he’s talking about the fact that him and Charity are getting married and he’s inviting me and my boyfriend and honestly? With the exception of Bobby and Sam I don’t really hang out with that many guys besides you” you quickly explained the weekend Micheal and Charity had planned heading up to their big day.

He was silent for a few moments then shrugged “Is it paid?” “What?” you asked in confusion so he clarified “Is it paid? Like we show up and enjoy this brand spanking new resort in the mountains, get our food cooked for us. Our rooms cleaned for us and all we have to do in return is sit through your douchey ex getting married?” You nodded slowly and he smirked “I say let’s do it. I think it’d be fun and besides when’s the last time either of us had a vacation, let alone one we didn’t have to foot out an armload for?”

You opened your mouth then shut it just as quickly “Well I gotta go after I get this food to the crew but if you’re sure, tell him yes” he winked at you then took the other box from your hands “Go on and get back to Ellen because I fully expect my girl to have some new outfits before we show up to this destination wedding” you rolled your eyes at him then playfully swatted his ass “I’ll see what I can managed sugar”

------

The closer the weekend of the wedding got the more you wanted to back out. You and Micheal still had a lot of mutual friends and those mutual friends also knew Dean, Sam, Bobby and the entire bunch. There was bound to either be awkwardness or the horror of Micheal finding out you lied. Any time you bought the worry up to Dean he’d wave it off with the logic of “We know damn near everything about each other sweetheart. Hell you crashed at my place after you two split until we got you into your loft. We’re comfortable with casual touch. He’ll never know”

------

Before you knew it the wedding weekend had sprung up on you. You were curled up in the passenger seat of Dean’s truck as he drove following the directions Micheal and Charity had included in with every invitation. Normally he’d drive his impala but considering this was a trip into the mountains you both decided it would be better to take the truck.

“So do you know about our room situation?” he asked, breaking the silence in the cab of the truck. You shrugged “Charity got a headcount and they blocked off that many rooms. Considering they think we’re a couple you’re fine sharing with me aren’t you?” “Of course, sweetheart. Even if you do snore” he teased with a wink. You shook your head and reached up to turn the radio up slightly and smiled when he started to sing along with the song “Bad moon rising” 

------

“Wake up Y/N. We’re here” Dean called shaking your leg closest to him. You sat up and nearly told him to turn the truck around. Yes the resort was gorgeous but the reality of going to your ex-fiance’s wedding was starting to set in. Dean reached across the console and grabbed your hand “Hey fake boyfriend or not I’m really here to back you up. I won’t leave your side all weekend unless you tell me to ok?” you managed a smile then questioned “What if you see a hot bridesmaid?” he shrugged “I’ll get their number for later” “DEAN!” you scolded causing him to crack up laughing “See? Changed your mood that quick” You rolled your eyes but grabbed your bag and followed him once he was parked.

The interior of the resort had a nice almost rustic feel to it. A large fireplace was roaring in the center of the lobby and you grabbed Dean’s arm to pull him along with you to check it out. “You’re already smiling. It won’t be that bad” you turned to tell him that five minutes in versus an entire weekend was too different things but stopped when you heard an accented voice call both of your names. You looked up to see Benny and his sister Elizabeth walking towards you. “Benny” you greeted with a smile as the two of you hugged. Once you pulled away from him you greeted Elizabeth in much the same fashion. 

“So Dean, brother I hear you finally managed to wrangle this one” Benny asked with a smirk. Your eyes widened at his wording..what did he mean by finally? You chose not to ask considering you’d told Micheal the two of you had been together for nearly a year. Dean, ever the fast talker, simply slid an arm around your waist and winked at Benny “Things worth having take time don’t they?” you could feel a blush threatening to warm your cheeks and shot Elizabeth a grateful smile when she said “Leave her be boys. Y/N we need to catch up but for now I’ll drag my brother away so the two of you can get checked in and squared away”

After the two of them had walked off you looked at Dean who still had his arm around you holding you close to his side “What did Benny mean?” he shrugged “Who knows with Benny?” then moved to grab your bags then nodded towards the front desk “Let’s get checked in”

------

Your room was on the third floor so you took the nearest elevator up and thankfully it was empty. You leaned your head back against the wall then rolled it over to look at Dean silently cursing yourself for ever putting the two of you in this situation. You weren’t exactly ugly but damn the man looked like a walking wet dream when he was doing the most mundane tasks and you knew for a fact the suit he had brought for the ceremony was a Tom Ford black herringbone three piece. You’d seen him in it twice before and every woman and a good amount of the men in the nearest vicinity looked like they’d throw themselves under a bus to have a chance to see him without it and now here you were having to play it off like you had. “You’re thinking loud enough to give me a migraine” he spoke pushing off the wall when the elevator came to a stop. You shrugged “Just thinking how many more people are we gonna know that’s here, meaning how many are gonna ask about us being together after this weekend” “Let’s enjoy this weekend then we’ll worry about the rest” he replied with a wink motioning for you to step off first when the doors opened.

You checked the room numbers until you got to yours. You slid the key card in then stepped inside opening the door further for Dean since he’d insisted to carry your bags too because in his words “Yes you are more than capable but dammit I am a loving fake boyfriend”  You were in the living room area of the suit and it was nice, had a small couch against one wall with two overstuffed chairs sitting across the room next to a fireplace and a large tv on one wall. Dean let out a low whistle and sat your bags down in front of the couch “So far, so good. Want to check out the bedroom?” you ignored the warmth in your face to follow him to the bedroom door and cursed under your breath when you saw the kingsize bed. “I’ll um take the couch” you offered but he raised an eyebrow “We’re adults Y/N. I think we can share a bed. Besides this thing is big enough we won’t even be near each other unless we want to” he added a smirk at the end and you rolled your eyes feeling some of your nerves start to melt away at the simple fact of Dean being Dean.

 “Fine but you snore and I’ll put a pillow over your face” he nodded “Fair enough” then grabbed your hand “Get a thicker jacket on. We’re gonna go check out the grounds” you didn’t have time to argue before he was pulling your jacket out of one of your bags and slipping it onto your arms. 

------

The two of you spent a few hours simply walking the different paths around the resort. Dean was always big on the outdoors and you loved the snow so it was something that you both found joy in. You ended up taking several photos of wildlife including a squirrel that took a liking to Dean.

When the sun started to shift in the sky you tried and failed to hide a shiver from Dean. He was immediately pulling his gloves off and holding them out to you. “I think that’s our clue to head back” you slid the gloves on then nodded “Yeah”

You walked along next to him and was a bit surprised when he reached out to lace his fingers in with yours. You glanced down at your intertwined hands and he shrugged “That way we keep both of our hands halfway defrosted” you bit your lip to try to hide the smile you had at the action. What the hell were you doing to yourself? You had simply tried to duck out of an awkward conversation with an ex and were now risking one of the closest friendships you had.

Your attention was drawn by Elizabeth’s voice. You looked up about the time the brunette nearly barreled into you “Liz! Calm down honey. What is it?” you questioned. She cut her eyes at Dean then smiled sweetly “Stand right there Dean. I won’t keep her long” Dean had a curious look but nodded nonetheless.

You let her pull you a couple feet from Dean before asking “What is going on?” “Lisa is here” you felt your heart hit your feet at that. Lisa was Dean’s ex and the closest he’d ever gotten to marriage. She’d played him dirty though by using her son Ben as a bargaining chip. Once Ben got old enough to go off to school she’d lost that chip but you knew Dean’s feelings for her had in fact been very real. “Oh” you said softly which caused Elizabeth to shake your arms roughly “Oh? Oh as in you aren’t worried or oh as in I should start a fight with her sister just to give you an excuse to knock her out?” You let out a surprised laugh at her offer then said “Oh as in I’m not worried” you looked over your shoulder at Dean who waved when he saw he had your attention then added softly “Not very worried anyways”

-----

Elizabeth went in search of Benny so you and Dean headed back inside. He was asking if you wanted to hit the dining area or just get room service. You wanted to go ahead and tell him Lisa was here but if everything was going to implode you might as well enjoy a little before it did right? “I’m thinking room service and maybe some horror movies?” you suggested as the two of you walked towards the elevators. He pulled you into his side and left a kiss on your temple “That’s my girl!”

------

You left ordering the food up to Dean while you took a shower and you started to wonder if you should regret that decision when you walked into the living room. He had a fire going and there were plates on nearly every surface. “Are we barricading ourselves in here? Did the apocalypse start while I was in the shower and if so can I claim Daryl?” He looked up from scrolling through the movie options to laugh humorlessly “First off I’m like so much better looking than him and I just decided that we’d try a little bit of everything in case the rest of the weekend gets to be too much and your stomach does that nervous thing where you can’t eat without getting queasy” 

Damn he remembered that? Guess it shouldn’t surprise you but even Micheal had never paid too much mind to that. “Well in that case pick the first movie and let’s get this marathon started”

------

Dean knew you’d never make it through the entire list of movies the two of you had picked. Halfway through the Texas chainsaw massacre you were curled up next to him with your head laid over on his shoulder. He missed times like this. After you and Micheal had first split and you stayed with him this was a weekly occurrence. The two of you would stay up most saturday nights, watching the cheesiest horror movies and eating the weirdest take out you could.  You’d always fall asleep on him and he would always just get comfortable and sleep on the couch as well to have you close to him. His feelings for you had already been apparent by the time him and Lisa finally called it quits but you’d been with Micheal. After the breakup he hadn’t wanted to be seen as trying to take advantage so he was content with the best friend role. He’d date and see you date but would always hold his breath when you’d hit the couple weeks mark with whatever idiot you’d be currently seeing in hopes you’d kick the guy to the curb and you always did. 

When this weekend had come up you’d expected him to laugh at the idea but he’d jumped at. Maybe if he had some alone time with you in a place as gorgeous as this he could finally put words to his feelings and maybe just maybe you felt the same.

------

Waking up on the couch with Dean’s arms around you felt like a dream until you remembered just why the two of you were here and what Elizabeth had told you the night before. You turned to look up at him and smiled seeing his face so relaxed. His mouth was open just slightly and his hair was tousled from moving around in his sleep. You weren’t sure how long you’d been staring at him when a smirk slipped onto his face “Staring is a little creepy honey” you rolled your eyes and slowly started to sit up “I wasn’t staring I was simply making sure you weren’t drooling on me”

He opened one eye and smiled at you “Are you asking me to get bodily fluid on you?” “I swear to christ Dean!” you scolded but he started laughing and pulled you back down next to him “Shh go back to sleep. Breakfast runs for another two hours and there’s no wedding stuff until the snowmobile ride around one then the dinner at seven” You cut your eyes up at him and took a deep breath before saying “I need to tell you why Elizabeth found me last night”

He sat up slowly opening both eyes and yawned “I’m guessing not just to get help burying Benny in snow?” you shook your head “Um well you know a lot of our friend groups and Micheal’s are intertwined” he nodded so you finally bit the bullet “Lisa is here” “Oh” he stood up off the couch rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. There were too many emotions playing through his eyes to pick out just one so you took the opportunity to say “I’m gonna grab a shower. Charity asked for some of the female guests to come pick out corsages so none of us are left without flowers so I’m going to meet up with Liz to do that”

You quickly walked out the room before Dean could see the look in your eyes at his reaction upon hearing Lisa was at the resort. Well at least thursday had been fun. You simply had today and tomorrow to get through then sunday you could head home.

------

By the time you got out the shower Dean was sitting on the foot of the bed with his toiletry bag next to him so he could shower next. He glanced up when you walked out and smiled “So are you and Liz gonna meet up with me and Benny for breakfast or are we left up to our own devices?” you shrugged and grabbed your thinner jacket since you planned to be indoors until the snowmobiling later. “Why don’t you two go without us and we’ll meet up later?” “You don’t think I’m gonna leave you high and dry just because Lisa is here..do you?” you opened your mouth to reply but someone was on your side because Elizabeth chose that moment to text your phone “I’m outside your room babe” you showed him the phone and he nodded “Find me after you pick flowers..please?” you smiled “Of course” then nearly ran out the room.

------

You forced a smile onto your face as you followed Elizabeth into the room where Charity had the florists set up. You really did think it was a cute idea that she didn’t want any woman in attendance to be without flowers even though it was her big day.

You stopped the moment you stepped into the room and spotted Lisa talking to Charity’s sister Alice. “Well look what the cat dragged in” Elizabeth muttered under her breath and you bit your lip to hide the smile “Let’s just check in with Charity, pick our flowers and get the hell out of here” she nodded looping her arm in with yours. The two of you headed for the table lined with daisies,sunflowers and lilies. “What were you thinking?” she asked, picking up one of the flowers off the table. You shrugged “Something simple Liz, my dress is dark blue and Dean’s suit is black” “Is it the three piece Tom Ford number? He always did look amazing in that?” Lisa’s voice came from behind you and you felt your spine stiffen at her voice.

Elizabeth cut her eyes at you as you turned to face Lisa with a smile on your face “Matter of fact it is. Nice to see you again Lisa. How’s Ben?” her smile faltered slightly at your mention of him. “He’s doing fine, can I ask you one thing?” you nodded slowly “Even if I say no you’re gonna talk anyways so I might as well agree to it to keep things civil for Charity and Micheal’s sake”

You saw Elizabeth move out the corner of your eye coming to stand directly next to you and you then realized Lisa’s sister Tabitha had come to stand behind her. You weren’t doing this. You and Micheal had ended on a good note, Charity was a good person and you were going to have to be pushed really far to act stupid during their weekend. “Were you screwing him when I was with him or did you just wait until Micheal woke up about you?” “You know what Lisa..” Elizabeth started but was stopped by Alice stepping between you and Lisa “Braeden, Y/N is a guest here same as you are. If the two of you have issues with each other we have a big resort here take it outside or get over it”

You stared Lisa down as you told Alice “I have no problem. I’m here for Micheal and Charity. They invited me” Lisa plastered one of those smiles that could only be described as how Lucifer smiled at Eve in the garden “No issue from me either” Alice nodded and smiled at you “How have you been Y/N? Did you and Elizabeth find the flowers you wanted?” you shook your head still looking at Lisa over her shoulder. She gently touched your elbow and led you back to one of the tables. “Tell me what colors you and Dean are wearing and I’m sure we’ll find something that looks amazing. You too Elizabeth”

------

After you and Elizabeth were through picking flowers she asked if you wanted to grab breakfast. “Just the two of us?” you offered and she shrugged “Up to you. We can find your honey and my brother if you want or we can just catch up?” you smiled “I like the idea of catching up. Dean and Benny are big boys. They can be left alone for a little while” she smiled in return and grabbed your arm “Well then come on ma’am”

-------

You were sipping on your coffee when Lisa walked by your table. She was still staring you down but you refused to do anything to mess up a friend’s wedding weekend. “You know I’m starting to think she’s more jealous of Dean having you then you having Dean” Elizabeth scoffed and you coughed around your coffee from the laugh that pulled from your lips. “I really need to get down to Louisiana more often. I forgot just how much fun you Lafittes’ are” She winked at you over her own coffee cup “Especially around Mardi Gras”

You were about to leave to go change for the snowmobile ride when a plate was set down on the side of yours and Elizabeth’s table. You cut your eyes up at the person who’d sat it down and it was Tabitha. “Lisa said since you enjoy her leftovers so much she figured you may want more” you took a deep breath then stood to face her eye to eye “Tell Lisa if she has an issue with me she needs to be woman enough to deal with it when it’s not conflicting with other plans. Now she want to hit me up next weekend? I’ll gladly whip her ass” you heard Elizabeth snicker under her breath and Tabitha looked scandalized “Are you even with him? I mean you’re not really his type” 

Elizabeth was to her feet in a flash “You little..” but you stopped her with a hand then smiled at Tabitha “What? Not manipulative enough?” with that she seemed dumbfounded so you turned back to Elizabeth “Let’s go get changed”

------

Elizabeth’s room was on the same floor as yours and Deans so the plan was to change then meet up at the elevator unless one of you ran into one of the guys first. You unlocked the door and stepped into your room breathing a sigh of relief to see Dean was in fact not there but your phone went off with a text from him “Dammit we have looked everywhere for you two. Where did you get off to?” you rolled your eyes and sent back “I’m lost come find me” before laying the phone down to dig out different clothes.

You were pulling your boots on when you heard the door of the room open then shut followed by Dean calling your name. “In here!” you hollered and he poked his head around the door holding his phone up  “That has never been funny. Elizabeth told Benny where you were” “Snitch” you mumbled standing to grab your jacket. You could feel him watching you and cursed under your breath when he asked “What’s wrong?” you shrugged and tried to walk past him but he grabbed your arm “Come on darlin. I know that look something is up” you nodded “Yeah your ex is a fucking bitch and needs to be glad that we’re at a mutual friend’s wedding” “What did she do?” he asked dropping your arm like the mere touch had burnt “Everything from saying how good you’ve always looked in that one suit to asking me if I was screwing you when the two of you were together to sending her sister over to mine and Elizabeth’s table to give me her leftovers from breakfast followed up by reminding me I’m not your type” when you were met with silence you laughed humorlessly “I think I’ll get Benny to come grab my bags and just stay with Elizabeth the rest of the weekend. We can tell everyone we split and if need be I’ll pay their gas to swing through to take me home on their way” “You don’t have to do that” he offered but you’d already turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears in your eyes “Yeah. I do because this was the stupidest idea I’ve ever had” you grabbed your jacket and pushed past him out the room.

You nearly mowed over poor Benny who reached out to steady you “Woah there. Where you headed like that?” you figured might as well bite half the bullet at least “We just broke up will you bring my bags to Liz’s room?” he seemed more than a little confused but nodded “Want me to smack some sense into him?” you shook your head with a watery smile “It was bound to happen. I’m not really his type” then walked away from him to find Elizabeth.

------

You ended up dipping out of the snowmobile ride. You told Charity you were having a bit of motion sickness and bless her she’d gotten one of the staff to bring you some medicine.

You and Elizabeth had decided on one of the nature walks instead. “So what happened?” she asked and you shook your head “I told him what happened with Lisa. He didn’t respond” “I’m sorry honey” she replied pulling you into her side with one arm. You shrugged “Was bound to happen anyways”

When you finally pulled your phone out after the two of you had been wandering the trails for nearly two hours you had fifteen texts from Dean and even a few from Sam and Eileen wanting to know why their brother/brother in law was texting them to get them to text you to text him. Confusing huh?

“Maybe he’s sorry?” Elizabeth offered but you shook your head “I’m not holding him up. Who knows maybe Lisa is right. Maybe he does still want her” the words themselves felt like a hot knife twisting in your gut but you weren’t going to let it show. You could get through this and avoid Dean as much as possible until the sting went away. 

------

At dinner you told Elizabeth you weren’t feeling well but talked her into going to dinner well after you made her promise to not blow up at Dean, Lisa or Tabitha. You left her with Benny in hopes he would see that she kept that promise then headed up to her room.

When you opened the door Benny had laid your suitcase and smaller bag on the couch. You called room service to get some food and to see if you could get an extra pillow and blanket so you didn’t have to steal one off her bed.

By the time Elizabeth got up to the room you had already eaten and showered and was curled up on the couch watching a movie. She smiled at you the moment she walked in the door “He’s clearly upset” you sighed and patted the cushion next to you “You’re welcome to come watch Liz but I don’t wanna talk about Dean” she nodded “Fair enough” and kicked off her shoes to come join you.

------

“I fucked up man” Dean told Benny with a shake of his head. “You think? Man you’ve been telling me for how long how you feel about that girl then you what? Can’t even manage to say fuck her about your ex?” Dean shrugged because he honestly had no idea why he hadn’t said anything about it when you told him of the confrontations with Lisa. “How do I fix it?” he asked and Benny laughed “Beg? Then beg some more?” “You know what Benny? You’re such a help”

Lisa and Tabitha walked into the bar about that time and Benny bumped Dean’s arm forcing him to look up right before Lisa walked over to them. “Dean, I hear you got tired of Y/N already. Want a real woman again?” Benny rolled his eyes at her words then cut his eyes at Dean. As much as he liked him he liked you too and if Dean wouldn’t speak up on your behalf he damn sure was going to. “Real woman Lisa? You mean a liar, manipulator and cheater? Y/N has been one of my closest friends for as long as I can remember. When I needed her she was there, when Sammy, Bobby, Ellen hell anybody needed her she was there. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. She fights for those she cares about, she takes care of everyone she can. She’s strong but still soft and I love her” 

Benny’s eyes widened at Dean’s confession and Lisa looked like she swallowed a frog “You love that?” Dean stood off the stool at her words and smiled “Sweetheart there was never anyone but her”

------

You and Elizabeth were wandering around before the ceremony. You were dressed complete with flowers. The people loitering around the lobby looked like they belonged in one magazine or another at a newsstands. You spotted Alice and walked towards her with a smile “How’s Charity?” she laughed nervously “Scared?” “She’ll be fine. Your dad walking her?” she nodded so you added “Just tell him to have a good grip on her arm just in case and tell her to keep her head high. She’s beautiful and we’re all here for her” She smiled “Thanks Y/N” “Anytime”

Elizabeth had watched you talk to Alice and when you got back to her side she asked “How are you that good talking about your ex-fiance’s soon to be wife?” you shrugged “hindsight twenty twenty? Me and Micheal didn’t belong together. He just figured it out before I did” She nodded slightly “So who do you belong with?” 

You could feel your cheeks threaten to warm as you thought about Dean. The way he made you feel when you’d wake up next to him or how he always went out of his way to make you laugh. How he always took care of everyone around him but resisted when it came to allowing someone to take care of him because he still wasn’t used to it. You were in love with him and had now possibly lost even his friendship. “Who I want I can’t have” you finally said and she asked “Why not?” “He doesn’t want me” you replied but froze when you heard Dean’s voice behind you “Are you sure about that? Because really if a guy has a shot at you and doesn’t take it he needs his ass kicked”

You looked back at Elizabeth but she was grinning at Benny “Oh dear brother of mine! Let’s go check out those nifty little stands they have set up near the doors!” you watched the two of them disappear then looked back at Dean “I never should’ve asked you to pretend this weekend” he nodded then smiled “And I should’ve admitted the reason I agreed was to get to spend some time with you so maybe I could figure out if you feel the same way about me that I do about you. Me and Lisa we never would’ve worked for the same reason you and Micheal never would’ve worked. I found who I want to be with and it’s you” “Dean please tell me you aren’t screwing with me right now” you whispered grateful the two of you had moved to the edge of the room where no one could overhear. “I’ve never been more serious about anything” you patted at the tears threatening to spill from your eyes “Christ I’m glad Liz had waterproof mascara” he bit back a laugh and motioned to your face “Those good tears?” you nodded “If you’re serious come kiss me Winchester” a smirk slipped onto his face “Don’t have to tell me twice” 

@brilovesdeanwinchester @akshi8278 @bolontiku

@girl-next-door-writes

[divineluce]

A Little Less Alone || Nadia & Luce

Timing: June 22nd, 2021

Tagging: @humanmoodring​ & @divineluce​

Location: Luce’s Cabin

Description: Luce succumbs to grief; Nadia’s there to catch her.

TW: Grief, sibling death

Luce stared down at the large piece of paper that sat before her, the side of her hand smeared with graphite. There were just rough outlines, the barest of shapes, but even those… Closing her eyes for a moment, Luce sucked in a deep breath to steady herself. She could feel the candles around her flicker, felt the way their orange flames turned a pale blue for a moment. She had her magic back, just as strong as it had once been. But it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t been enough to save him. 

Pushing away from her desk, Luce waved her hand over the blue flamed candles before walking down the stairs from the loft of her cabin. She could work on that later. She’d get it done, though, she had to. It was the least she could do. But for now… Luce checked her phone and re-read the latest message from Nadia. She didn’t-- she’d asked for the other woman to come here. She had. But even now, she wondered if she’d crossed a line. She knew that they weren’t casual, they weren’t just seeing each other on the side. But, Nadia was an empath and Luce knew that her emotions were so, so far from stable right now. She shouldn’t have done this. Maybe she could just tell Nadia to forget it, to--

A knock came from the cabin door and Luce blinked. Fuck. 

It wasn’t a question of if Nadia was going to see Luce. It was a question of when. Whenever Luce decided she was ready, and whenever Luce decided she wanted Nadia around. Grief worked differently for everyone. Some people wanted to be alone for a while. Some people didn’t want to be alone. Some people shoved it down, down as far as it could go, and they saved processing it for a later date. Nadia, admittedly, fell in the latter of those categories, but she was aware of that. This wasn’t about her, anyway, and she had nothing to grieve. This was about Luce, and being there for Luce, and making sure that Luce knew that she was going to be there. That was what was important, and that was something that she could do.

Nadia didn’t really expect Luce to say that she didn’t want to be alone so soon, though. It made something in her chest tighten. There was something in the knowledge that what was happening between them was changing, and it was becoming something to where they were both opening up. Or trying to open up. Nadia needed to be better about opening up. But this wasn’t about her. It wasn’t. She drove to Luce’s cabin as quickly as she could and only hesitated for a moment before she got out and started walking to the door. This was important. Nadia knocked.

Running a hand through the tangles of her hair in an attempt to collect herself, Luce stared at the door. Fuck. Nadia was here. There was no getting out of this, she’d asked her to come here and it was too late to tell her to go. That would only make her worry more. She’d asked Nadia to be here. Nodding to herself in an attempt to steel her nerves, Luce opened the door.

“Hey, Nadia. Thanks for coming.” Luce said, with a vague attempt at a smile. But, it was hard to even do that-- she knew just how much despair and anguish was coming off her. She didn’t want Nadia to feel all of that, but there just wasn’t any way she could hide it. “I’m sorry for asking you to come. I just…” I’ve only ever run from things and I’m trying not to run from you. “Nell’s at our mom’s and I wanted to give her space. And Bea, she and I-- we deal with things differently.” Bea still hadn’t said that Adam was dead. Luce knew why she couldn’t say those words, but it still-- blinking back the tears that were already coming to her eyes, she let out a watery chuckle. “Sorry.” She said, apologizing for the tears and for the emotions that Nadia was no doubt feeling.

Nadia had already steeled herself for the grief that she knew she was going to feel when Luce opened the door. There’s really no preparing for it, though. There’s no preparing for despair, or anguish, or the fact that Luce looked just as shitty as she felt. There was no preparing for the tears in Luce’s eyes, and Nadia’d never really seen that, had she? She’d never seen Luce look so raw. She’d never felt Luce so raw. “Hey,” she murmured. “You don’t have to thank me. You don’t have to be sorry.” There was nothing to apologize for. Absolutely nothing. Nadia was glad that Luce had asked her to come. She shouldn’t be dealing with this alone. No one should be dealing with this alone. 

Grief is almost insurmountable, sometimes. But it was better when it was shouldered by more than just one person. If being an empath allowed her to do one thing, then Nadia could at least do that. She couldn’t tell Luce that it was okay because it wasn’t. She could feel how not okay it was. She could see the tears in Luce’s eyes, and she could feel them building up behind her own. But she could say, “You don’t have to be sorry. You don’t. You really don’t. I wanted to come. I want to be here for you.” I knew what I was getting myself into by coming, and I’m not going away. I promise.

Letting Nadia inside, Luce waved her hand at the candles that lined the cabin. Their flames flickered blue for a moment before rising higher, illuminating the space in light. “I’m,” She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as she sat down on the armrest of the couch. She was too restless to sink into the cushions, but too tired to stand either. Limbo, she’d been stuck in a state of anxious exhaustion for days. “It’s been a long couple weeks. Months. Fuck. What even is time?” Luce said with a sigh as she fidgeted with the frayed edge of her shirt.

“Thanks. I just-- I couldn’t be back at Bea’s place right now. It,” Luce swallowed past the lump that had formed in the back of her throat, “reminds me too much of last time, when Bea was… gone.” She said, unable to say the word aloud. It was easier to write it, to hide behind her phone or the screen of her laptop as she typed those three letters. Saying out loud, it felt harsher, more real. Which was stupid. Dead was dead. And Adam was dead. And he was never coming back. 

Eyes glancing at the flames, Nadia couldn’t remember a time that she’d actually seen Luce’s magic in action. It was incredible to know that the fire responded to the woman in front of her, that the flashes of blue that faded into warm, bright orange were caused by a human being with the power of the universe at her fingertips. And that’s what magic was, right? It was amazing. It would have been more so if Luce’s grief wasn’t almost crushing. “Time’s a fictional construct, I’ve heard,” she said, her voice soft. She moved to sit, facing Luce, her eyes on the other woman even if Luce’s eyes were gazing off, seeing things that weren’t there. “Then you don’t have to be there right now,” Nadia added, and it could be that simple. Even amongst all of this pain, things could still be simple. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you’re hurting, and I’m sorry. You don’t have to be alone, though.” If she could, Nadia would take all of Luce’s grief and shoulder it as her own. She’d like to say that she’d do it for anyone, but especially for Luce. Of course for Luce.

It wasn’t until Nadia sat in front of her did Luce realize she’d been staring out into space. Rubbing a hand across her face, she rested her elbow onto her knees as she tried to pull herself free from the memories. But she could still see it. Nell, draped over Adam’s lifeless body, her own form bleeding and on the brink of death. Her sister, sobbing, begging, pleading for the man who would never come back. The man who never wanted to come back. She could still see Bea’s head, kept in that fucking house of death, staring blankly back at her. She could see her sister’s bloodless corpse at the ritual site. How much had she seen in the past year? How much more would she have to see? How many more people would die? Tears began to roll down her cheeks and Luce shook her head, hating herself for crying, for breaking down. But once they started to flow, she couldn’t stop them. “I’m sorry-- I’m sorry.” She sobbed, shaking her head as her breaths came out in shuddering gasps. 

“Luce,” Nadia said, moving in closer as the other woman started crying. It was like being hit with a semi truck. Luce felt so much. So much. Nadia had never felt so much grief. But she’d never been around someone who had been through so much, either. No one should feel like this. “You don’t have to apologize. You can let it out. Just let it out. It’s okay to let it out with me, okay?” She leaned forward and wiped the tears away from Luce’s face, even though they kept pouring. Nadia didn’t mind. She didn’t. There was nothing for Luce to apologize for. Nadia wouldn’t have come if she minded this. She knew what she was getting into when she responded to that message. “I’m here.” She kept her voice soft, soothing, even if she felt Luce’s emotions building up in the back of her throat. “It’s okay to let it out. I promise.”

Nadia’s hand was cool against her skin and Luce leaned into it instinctively. Her shoulders shook at the other woman’s quiet words. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to be here when the world had lost one of the best people it had ever known. She didn’t deserve comfort when her own sister was mourning the loss of the man she’d loved. But, selfishly, she wanted it. Even through the guilt and the grief, God, she ached to be just a little less alone. “I should have-- done more. I should have gone after Bea when she sent me that text, when she told me to stay at work, the day that she was,” Her words caught in the back of her throat and Luce shook her head once more. “I-- I-- I should have learned. I should have gone with Adam. I shouldn’t have put so much fucking pressure on him to bring her back, I shouldn’t have been so angry, I should have just--” Fresh sobs burst free and her shoulders slumped forward. “I should have done more. For both of them, for all of them. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything.”

“Hey, no, it’s not fair for you to do this to yourself,” Nadia said. She could feel Luce spiraling down into this, and it was all she could do not to fall with her. She couldn’t do that. She had to pull Luce up instead. “You can’t possibly know what would have happened if you’d gone. You might not have changed anything at all. There’s no going back there, Luce. It sucks. It fucking sucks, but there’s no going back.” And, selfishly, a part of Nadia was glad about that. She didn’t know what she’d do if Luce had been the one to take her sister’s place. It was awful, and she hated herself for it, but Bea was back. She didn’t know if Luce would have been able to come back. “And you can’t-- you can’t blame yourself for him, either. I didn’t know him but this-- the going in alone, all headstrong and shit, that seems like the kind of thing he would do. He seemed like that kind of guy.” As Luce slumped forward, Nadia moved towards her, wrapping her arms around Luce’s shaking shoulders and holding her tight, rubbing circles on her back. “That’s not true. You did what you could. I know you did. And all you can do now is be there, okay? That’s all you can do now. You let this out, and, when they need you, you be there for them when they do the same.”

Luce heard Nadia’s words and she knew… that the other woman was right. Just like Bea had said, they couldn’t go back and rewrite time. They couldn’t change the past. But it felt fair, it felt like the guilt and pain was the only fair thing she could do because who the fuck was she compared to her sister, to Adam, to all of the people who had suffered and paid the price? What made her life any more valuable than theirs, any more worthy? “I know that I can’t change anything, I know that.” She managed through the tears, sinking into Nadia’s arms. Luce’s arms wrapped around the other woman’s form, clinging to her like a lifeline from the misery that was threatening to wash over her head and drag her down. “I just don’t know how. How to be here. With this, with all of this, this pain. It’s-- it’s so much. It’s too much.”

As Luce all but collapsed into her arms, Nadia did what she could to keep them both up. If there was nothing else that she could do, then it would be that. She could do that. She could shoulder this pain for Luce. “It’s not easy,” Nadia said. It wasn’t. Sometimes, it’s so much easier to run. It’s so much easier to leave and pull away. She knew that. She knew that. “It’s so much. But that’s why you don’t do it alone. That’s why you can’t do it alone. We’re-- People, all of us, we’re not meant to carry these things on our own.” Maybe that’s why there were empaths. There had to be people out there that knew how to carry these things. There had to be people out there who had no choice but to carry things. She held Luce tight, eyes closed as a few tears of her own slipped out. Or were they Luce’s? Or were they both of theirs? “I don’t think there’s any guide on how to do this. You just do it, and it gets easier every time. But I’m here for you, and I won’t let you do this alone, Luce. I won’t. You don’t have to anymore.”

Resting her head on Nadia’s shoulder, Luce felt her tears begin to subside, though the pain still remained. And she knew it wouldn’t go away. The grief she’d felt last summer, when she’d burned a chunk of the forest to the ground in anguish, it had subsided some over the year. It had eased. But just like her fire, it had never truly abandoned her. It had never left. It had remained, in the pit of her stomach, in the back of her mind. Haunting her. And in the wake of Adam’s death, the emotions had returned to her in full force. “You don’t--” But the words petered out before she could finish her sentence. Because Nadia knew that she didn’t need to do this. She didn’t need to do any of this, she didn’t need to subject herself to the emotional onslaught. But she was. And she was offering. All Luce had to do was accept the help. “Thank you.” She mumbled, hugging the woman tighter.

“I know,” Nadia said. “I know.” And Luce knew, too, with the way she didn’t finish what she was going to say. It wasn’t out of necessity that people cared for each other, not in the way that they needed food or water or shelter. It was a want and desire to not let the people you cared for suffer alone. Nadia cared for Luce. So much. Probably more than she would admit, even now. She didn’t want Luce to suffer alone. She couldn’t let her suffer alone. And even as the tears stopped, there was still suffering. That wasn’t going away any time soon. But the burden of suffering could be shared, and it was more manageable when it was. Luce’s arms tightened around her, and Nadia made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t be the first one to let go. She’d hold Luce until the other woman stopped. She’d hold her until Luce told her to go away. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m here. Anytime you need me, I’m here.”  And she was. And she would be for as long as she could, shouldering these feelings and making sure that Luce knew she didn’t have to be alone again.

[crystalessenceswrites]

Shadows- Chapter Four

Shadows

A modern monster AU Pairings: Din Djarin x fem!reader Rating: T (at the moment- subject to change) Warnings: swearing, canon-typical violence, dark themes, death of unnamed and background characters, descriptions of blood, descriptions of a dead body Summary: Crypto- concealed; secret. You have always lived your life in the shadows; after all, you’re one of the creatures who go bump in the night. He has sworn his life to a creed that aims to protect the world from monsters like you.

[Masterlist] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] Cross-posted to AO3

Why was it always vampires?

It seemed like the bounty lists were chalk full of them these days, more so than normal. Which was not awful for slayers. They were generally high paying jobs, considering most of them were wanted for the murder of the humans or cryptos they’d been feeding on. You just preferred to stay away from the fangs. The superhuman abilities of a well-fed vampire were difficult to match in a fight, even for seasoned slayers. While you had the training and equipment to deal with them, the bounty was not always worth the medical bills after the fact. You specialized in the kinds of bounties that were more brains than brawn. Preferring the chase over the actual fight. Today you did not have much of a choice, apparently. You’d come into the office later in the morning and arrived to find all the new non-vampiric bounties had been promptly snatched up by the early birds. Leaving you stuck with the fangs. Great.

Your target was a vampire named Qin. He was active and was not doing much of anything to cover it up. A serious threat to everyone if left unattended to. The urgency in needing to deal with someone like him had bumped his bounty up fairly high, even for the usual vampire fair. There were plenty of breadcrumbs to follow, making your afternoon much easier. He was holed up in the old industrial district during the day. Most of the old neighborhood was being retrofitted for industrial lofts and modern condos, so there would be plenty of construction sites and condemned buildings for him to hide in and a steady stream of workers to pick off for food. Sightings and intelligence had his location narrowed down to a three-block radius. The was all easy enough. Killing him would be another story.

Vampires did not have any one magic bullet weakness- they aren’t susceptible to iron or silver- making them harder to handle. Staking one through the head or heart was usually the best way to incapacitate one, until their body was burned and ashes were scattered. That required getting closer than you were comfortable with. The last thing you wanted was a fanged creature with arms reach of your neck. You really should have just taken the day off. Too bad your landlord never took a day off when it came time to collect your rent.

Starting with the largest warehouse on the southside and moving north until you got lucky, or rather unlucky, enough to run into your bounty, seemed the best course of action. And today kept proving to be an unlucky day for you. You’d barely broken into the first building when you came across two completely drained corpses left out in the open, bodies still cooling. Your bounty was here and full of fresh blood.

Well shit.

Sword drawn you continue to sneak through the abounded building. Vampires were natural predators; their sense of smell was leagues above your own. It was more than likely he already knew you were here-unless he was occupied with another victim. That must have been the case, considering he hadn’t jumped out at you yet. On high alert you continue farther into the warehouse with a white-knuckle grip on your weapon. The main body of the building is split into two storage areas, the first dark in the overcast afternoon and empty. There are signs someone���s been around, a mattress and blankets in a corner, duffle bags and a pile of dark clothes next to a tower of take-out boxes. Odd.

You drop to the floor as the crack of a gunshot splits the silence. Mind reeling you wonder what vampire needs a fucking gun. Another scan of the space confirms you’re still alone, no shooter in sight. It must have come from the next room, too loud to have been outside the building. As you approach the partition the familiar metallic sting of fresh blood reaches your nose. Vampires don’t bleed.

Three more shots ring out, definitely from the other side of the partition.

Vampire’s don’t use guns.

Another deep breath draws more of the scents in, the dust and mildew of the building, the spark of gun powder and the overwhelming musk of human. Your bounty was not alone and wasn’t with anyone friendly. It wasn’t another slayer- once a bounty gets picked up its pulled off the lists- and most slayers didn’t smell so strongly of human, so the next logical assumption was a lone hunter. Not that it would have been hard for any human to pick up on this vampire’s trail, but if it had been law enforcement to find him the building would be flooded with cops.

You truly had the worst luck today.

Odds were probably one to four against the hunter. Humans rarely stood a chance against vampires unless they caught one out in sunlight.

A loud crash, like something heavy collapsing, shakes the silence. As a slayer you’re obligated to help the human but considering all that’s gone on in the last few weeks you’re feeling much less inclined to do so.

“Come on Mando! I thought you freaks were proud warriors and all!”

Fucking hell. Kira was right, you are a Mando magnet. The vampire’s taunt is not reassuring in the slightest. You did not need a dead Mando on your hands. Creeping into the next room you’re quick to find cover behind some dust covered work benches. Surveying the space leads you to believe the Mando and Qin have been at a while. The space is trashed, boxes toppled over and crushed, shelves up ended, and bullet holes are scattered throughout the space.

The Mando’s back is to you at the moment while he and the vampire stare each other down. You don’t need to see his face to know who you’re dealing with; you’d been on the look out for this particular mop of curls since your last run-in. How was he everywhere you needed to be? Why couldn’t you shake him?

He suddenly springs into action again, drawing the spear he’d been carrying on his back, swinging it in a wide arch at the vampire. Qin’s too fast and easily dodges the attack before going in for his own, trying to get within arm’s reach. Mando doesn’t let him, blocking each attack with deadly precision. Neither gives in, pushing back against the other, jumping around the other in attempt to land a hit.

You’re hesitant to say you’re impressed by Mando, but only out of spite. He moves like a well-oiled machine, despite not having the upper hand he does not give up control of the fight to his undead opponent. This is the most dressed down you’ve seen him, baring the silver tac vest over a dark colored shirt. You can safely assume its beskar, the metal harnessed solely by the Mandalorians. Just one of the things that made then unique to other hunters. As he circles around Qin you catch sight of blood dripping down his sharp jaw, the hair just above his ear dark and matted with it. He’d taken a pretty serious hit already.

Now you really had to help him.

This was the kind of opportunity you never had when dealing with vampires. Qin’s attention was solely focused on the hunter. There was no indication from either that they’d noticed your silent arrival. You had one shot with the element of surprise, and you needed to make it count. If you could incapacitate Qin, stun him long enough for you and Mando to finish the job you could make it out of here in one piece. Mando in close to one piece.

Although there was no magic bullet for vampires, a bullet wound did still require time and energy to heal. Even though vampires and the like were technically “undead,” they still felt and registered pain to some degree, meaning bullets also provided a certain shock factor. You lose the sword, reaching for your thigh holster instead. While you were not a fan of guns, you weren’t willing to risk a fight with a vampire for your pride. You always came prepared when dealing with a bloodsucker.

Qin and Mando continue to circle each other in their tense dance. Despite the dark look in both their eyes, Qin has a smug smirk plastered across his face, probably under the impression he was going to be having a Mandalorian for lunch. Too bad you couldn’t allow it. All you needed was a clear shot. You mentally will Mando to put some distance between him and the bloodsucker, as if that would actually work.

Your breath catches in your throat as Mando sweeps his spear in another wide arc, forcing Qin back. Maybe you were lucky today after all. The moment Qin lands back on his feet, far enough away from the hunter, you jump out from your cover and take the shot, tagging Qin in the temple.

Damn good shot.

Mando jumps as Qin’s body crumples to the ground, face drawing together in confusion. That feeling akin to satisfaction returns. You could get the jump on him and a vampire. Third time would not be his charm, you are sure of it. You would not let it.

His brain catches up with the situation and he swings around, staff pointed at you as you vault over the workbench. Next comes the recognition, his jaw dropping just a bit at your sudden materialization. You’re thankful his first reaction isn’t to attack as you’re quick to re-holster your gun.

“Focus Mando,” you quip, directing your attention back to the vampire beginning to move on the floor.

“Fuck!” Qin curses, already starting to come back to it. That seemed too quick, even for a recently fed vampire.

Mando snaps into action, kicking Qin down before his spear finds its way through the vampire’s rib cage. Judging by the ear-splitting screech Qin let’s out, Mando found his mark, staking Qin where he lays. Mando does not move as you approach with sword in hand. He does not move as you bring your blade to rest on the bounty’s neck.

“You have one chance to surrender or I collect the bounty on your head, Qin.”

“You bitch!” He snarls, thrashing around the pole shoved through his torso. “Working with a Mando, that’s low- even for a slayer!”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“See you in hell one day, bitch.”

Smug even in death. Ugh. You don’t feel much as you chop his off with one swift swing. Not after you saw those two innocents on your way in. People like him were the exact reason humans called your kind monsters.

“Sunny disposition on that one,” you grumble, stepping back from Mando and the decapitated bounty. The hunter doesn’t even offer you a curtesy laugh. Stick in the mud.

“Why are you here?”

He doesn’t bother to hide the suspicion. Did he think you were following him now? That was rich.

“Doing my job. I took on the bounty for this one.” Pulling your messenger bag off, you begin to organize your supplies, “which I’d like to finish up if you have no objections.”

Mando just steps back, leaning against his staff. You can feel the weight of his gaze boring into you while you work. His eyes tracking your every move, detailing each item you pull from your clean up kit. You didn’t spot any bag of his lying around, you wonder how he had been planning on dealing with the body.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Why did you help me?”

Questions, questions.

“You let us go last time- I owed you for that at least,” you shrug. Now you were even. Well, as even as you could be with a human Mandalorian.

He’s silent for a moment, watching as you pull a few jars and a water bottle out of the bag. One contains a small collection of thistle bulbs. Mando doesn’t ask but you can see the curiosity growing as you stick the sharp plants into the vampire’s wounds.

“Vampires are weak to thistle, introduce it into the body and it halts their healing abilities. Aloe vera works too, it’s just not as flammable.

“Aloe vera and thistles?”

You chuckle, “what, did you think garlic would work?”

Mando scoffs, his sharp eye still following your hands. Next comes the burning of the body. You want to get that done as quick as possible. Thistle was not an end all weakness and even decapitated vampires could regenerate. You douse the body and head in gasoline from the water bottle.

“Light?”

Eyebrows raised you gingerly take the lighter he offers, catching the edge of Qin’s shirt with the flame. It doesn’t take long for the rest of the corpse to catch. The flames cast shadows over the Mandalorian’s face as you watch him from the corner of your eye. The air is heavy between you and not with the smell of burning flesh.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to let him kill me?”

“Why would I want that?” Had he not come to the realization that you couldn’t kill him?

“You get rid of nuisances, right? So one of you will have to kill me eventually.”

It takes all your will power to not burst out laughing. There was no way he was getting anything from an inside informant if that’s what he thought slayers did. You had this Mando pinned down about as wrong as he had you figured out. No wonder no one had been able to find a turn coat when one didn’t exist to begin with.

“I don’t know where you’re getting your info, but you need to find a different source. Trust me. As much as most slayers want to get rid of hunters, we can’t without very good reasons. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be any better than the ones we hunt.”

He quirks an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest, “so what? You’re just monsters hunting other monsters?”

“One,” you hold up a finger, “we use the term crypto.”

“Crypto? Like cryptid?”

“Where do you think humans got the word from?”

Mando scoffs at that but doesn’t press.

“Two, most of us don’t actually qualify as cryptos. Slayers are primarily half-bloods.”

You revel in the confusion on his face. Never did you think you would find yourself completely altering a Mandalorian’s understanding of the world. This was priceless.

Why were you telling him all this?

“Half-bloods?”

“You know, half human?”

“That’s possible?”

Now you cannot hold back the laugh this time, “human genetics are surprisingly adaptable.”

A look of disgust washes over his face and your heart drops.

“I just want you to know we’re not so different… our job is to stop those who hurt or take advantage of humans, to stop those who threaten to expose us. I imagine that’s not so different from what Mandalorians want…” after all, they couldn’t want to kill you all, could they?

[jessmalia]

bittersweet | 37

pairing: stiles stilinski x oc a/n: lots of stalerie banter in this one! hope you’ll like it and please tell me what you thought! warnings: some mentions of fighting, sex, arson, and death. wordcount: 3221

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“I don’t think he’s just younger in body. I think he’s younger in his mind, too,” said Deaton as Lydia patched up the scratch on his arm that Derek had given him. It was the next day, and we had made our way to the animal clinic as soon as we could after Lydia had called Valerie and told her that Derek had woken up, attacked Deaton and ran away.

“He didn’t recognize either of us,” said Lydia, putting down the last piece of medical tape. “And he looked like he was scared out of his mind.”

“So, if you’re a teenage werewolf and you’re scared, where do you go?” I asked.

“A wolf goes back to its den,” said Scott. “But Derek lives in the loft.”

“Not when he was a teenager,” Valerie pointed out.

“The Hale house?” Lydia suggested.

Deaton nodded, brows furrowed in worry. “He wouldn’t remember the fire. It wouldn’t have happened yet.”

Scott pursed his lips. “To the Hale house, I guess.” But Lydia stopped him before he could go.

“Hold on,” she said. “Say you do manage to catch up to him, what are you gonna say to him? That his whole family is dead?”

“I guess I’m going to have to.”

“Oh? Good luck with that.”

“Yeah, she’s probably right,” I said. “Maybe you shouldn’t. You know, at least until we figure out how to get him back to normal.”

“I can’t lie to him.”

Valerie shrugged. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“I don’t think any of us can. Remember, he can hear a heartbeat rising. When we find him, we tell him the truth.”

“If he gets to the house first,” Deaton warned, “you won’t have to.”

—

Turns out Derek did get there first, and we weren’t even the ones to find him. Two deputies had arrived and found him crying by the construction site, since the house was being torn down, and had taken him to the Sheriff’s Station. Valerie, Scott, and I arrived there just in time for my dad to drag us into his office.

“I want you to be honest with me,” he said slowly from where he stood leaning against his desk. “Absolutely and completely honest…” We nodded, and dad took a deep breath. “Have you been time traveling?”

I blinked. “Hang on, what?”

“Because if time traveling is real, you know what, I’m done, I’m out! You’re gonna be driving me to Eichen House!”

“We found him like that,” said Valerie, trying to calm the man down.

“Where? Swimming in the fountain of youth?!”

“No,” I said. “We found him buried in a tomb of wolfsbane in an Aztec temple in Mexico, underneath a church in the middle of a town that was destroyed by an earthquake.”

Valerie closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, and dad’s face twisted in anger.

“You told me you were camping!” he whispered-screamed.

“Yeah, we were… in Mexico.”

An additional level of rage seemed to wash over dad’s face. He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words to describe what he was feeling, so nothing came out. Scott quickly tried to defuse the situation by explaining things.

“Derek’s been aged backwards,” he said. “He can’t remember anything.”

“We just need to talk to him,” said Valerie.

Dad shook his head in exasperation, sitting down on his desk. “Yeah, well, so far he’s not talking to anybody.”

Scott looked out the window of the office to where Derek was sitting on the bench outside. “He’ll talk to me.”

—

“Why would I go anywhere with you?” asked Derek from where he was now sitting on the couch in my dad’s office. Scott was standing in front of him, trying to get him to talk, and Valerie and I stood to the side, watching the whole thing.

“There was an accident,” said Scott authoritatively. “You lost some memory, but we can help you get it back.”

“How much memory?”

“A lot. But you can trust us.” Scott crouched down and showed Derek his red alpha eyes.

“You’re an alpha,” said Derek. Well spotted.

My eyes started traveling around the room, and it wasn’t soon ‘til I noticed something on the desk beside me. A letter from Eichen House. Curious, I moved away the letter that was resting on top of it, revealing a big red stamp on the envelope that said: Second Notice.

“Who are you? And who are they?!”

I looked up, realizing Derek was pointing at Valerie and I. “Oh, we’re the ones keeping you out of jail,” I said.

“Let us help you,” said Scott kindly.

Derek shook his head, tears shining in his eyes. “No.”

“Okay, dude,” I said, “you almost tore apart two cops back there. You need to listen to us. And that starts with no fangs, no claws, no wolfman. You got that?”

“I’m fine as long as it’s not on a full moon,” said Derek.

Scott’s brows furrowed. “You still have trouble with the full moon–”

“I said I’m fine.”

“All right, so are you coming with us or not?” I asked.

“You want me to trust you? Where’s my family?”

Scott exchanged looks with Valerie and me before sighing and looking back at Derek. “There was a fire. And… they’re not here anymore. They’re fine. Just had to move out of Beacon Hills. And we’re going to take you to them as soon as we figure out how to get your memories back.”

Derek exhaled. “Okay.”

—

“I shouldn’t have done that. I lied my ass off.”

“Hey, your ass is fine,” I said, patting Scott on the back. “You saved him a ton of unnecessary pain.”

Valerie nodded. “Yeah, it’s great. It will give us enough time to figure this out. In a day or two, Lil’ D will be back to Big D, and boom: everyone’s happy,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “Don’t look at me like that, that is the greatest joke I have ever made and you know it.”

“An embarrassingly low high point.”

“It’s just another person that we’re lying to,” Scott said, sighing. “I just always feel like it’s better when we tell the truth. With Lydia, my mom, your dad...”

“Me,” said Valerie.

Scott nodded. “Yeah.”

“But that is Derek Hale in there,” I said. “He may be a kid right now, but he’s still Derek Hale, Scott.”

“All right,” Scott said, straightening his back and taking a step towards the exit. “You two, take him to my house and don’t let him out of your sight.”

“And where are you going?” I asked.

“I’m gonna go talk to the guy we should’ve talked to before,” he said, walking out of the station.

“Uh… Yeah, I hate that guy!”

—

Once Derek had gotten everything cleared out with the police, Valerie and I walked him out to the parking lot and towards my Jeep. I gestured for him to get into the back before taking my seat behind the wheel. Valerie sat down in the passenger seat beside me, and she didn’t even waste a second to prop her dirty sneakers up against the dashboard.

“Put your feet down,” I said as I put my seat belt on.

Valerie rolled her eyes. “Yes, mom,” she said, removing her feet, only to immediately put them back again, a stupid smirk spreading across her face.

“God, I hate you,” I said, but my heart screamed the opposite. Valerie just punched me in the arm as I turned the ignition key and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” piped an annoying voice from the back.

Valerie finally pulled her feet down and strapped on her seatbelt. Not like she needed it, but still. “To Scott’s house.”

“Why isn’t he coming with us?”

I didn’t even try to resist the urge to roll my eyes. I’d take normal, stoic, sour-wolf Derek over this question-machine any day. Surprisingly, Valerie didn’t seem nearly as annoyed by the boy as I was.

“Cause he’s out trying to figure out how to get your memories back,” she answered easily, picking at her nail bands. “We’re supposed to look out for you, and Scott’s house is lined with mountain ash.”

Derek nodded and leaned back in his seat, content with the answer. How did she do that?

Only a minute later, it was Valerie’s turn to ask annoying questions. “Is the pedal to the metal?” she asked. “Because I swear if I shoved my feet through the floor I could run faster.”

“You need to get off my Jeep, man!” I grumbled, pulling a right turn a little harder than I probably had too, sending Valerie to slam against the car door.

Valerie leaned back, rubbing her side lightly. “Cause it’s a piece of shit,” she said, but I could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was only teasing. “Maybe you should give it back to the caveman to whom it belongs.”

“Awfully bold of you to assume that that’s not me.”

Valerie laughed, propping her dirty sneakers against the dashboard again.

“Get. Those. Down,” I growled, reaching over to slap at her ankles

“Okay, geez, calm down!” she snarled, bringing her feet down.

“What the hell is going on between you two?”

I glanced back quickly at the sound of the annoying voice piping up from the back again. I’d honestly forgotten that Derek was even there. “What do you mean?” I frowned.

“I can’t figure out if you’re sworn enemies or desperately in love,” he murmured, glancing out of the window.

Valerie rolled her eyes. “We’re friends.”

That little line got him to turn away from the window. His eyes ran Valerie up and down with much interest, and a small, stupid ass little smirk pulled on his lips. “So you’re single?”

“Don’t even think about it, man,” I said, shaking my head. “She’ll eat you alive.”

Valerie nodded, but she didn’t look nearly as annoyed about it as me. She turned around in her seat to face Derek, a big smirk on her face. “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen, but I totally respect your confidence. Keep it up, little man.”

Through the rear-view mirror, I could see Derek giving her a wink.

Valerie leaned back in her seat, a smug smile on her face that told me that once Derek was turned back, she was never gonna let him live this down.

—

“We’re just gonna wait here for Scott, we’re gonna sit quietly, and we’re not gonna call or talk to anyone,” I said as I stalked into Scott’s living room, mini Derek and Valerie trailing behind me.

Derek’s eyebrows rose. “Do I talk to you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

“Who’s going to talk to him?”

I frowned in confusion, turning to where Derek was pointing and flinched at the sight of the man standing in front of us holding a take-out bag.

“Oh. Hey, Mr. McCall!” Valerie said cheerily from the other side of Derek, placing a hand on her hip.

“What are you guys doing here?” McCall asked instead of greeting her back.

“Waiting for Scott,” said Derek.

“Yeah, so am I. We’re supposed to have dinner. I brought extra, you guys hungry?”

“Yeah–”

“No, we’re not hungry,” I said.

“No, I’m starving–”

“None of us are hungry. Thanks, though.”

Agent McCall eyed me weirdly. “Okay. Well, if you’re not hungry, Stiles, your friend can still eat with us. What’s your name?”

“D-”

“Miguel!” I said, wrapping my arm around Derek’s shoulder, ignoring his glare on me and the quiet sound of Valerie trying to muffle her laughter. “It’s- my cousin. Miguel. From Mexico. So...”

McCall nodded, looking towards Derek. “¿Es usted un natural de México, Miguel?”

“Oh, my God..”

Valerie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She opened her mouth, probably to respond to McCalls’ question for Derek, not like that would’ve been weird or anything, but Derek interrupted her.

“No soy nativo, si no que pase montón de tiempo allí.”

“Fantastic. Egg roll?”

Derek smirked. “Hell yeah,” he said, walking towards where McCall stood by the dining table. Valerie and I laughed awkwardly as he went, but as soon as they were both distracted discussing the food, Valerie’s forced laughter halted. The gripped onto my bicep and pulled my face toward hers. With the look of fury on her face she looked pretty much exactly like my dad had done back in the station earlier.

“You really need to learn how to shut up,” she cursed. “You were extremely lucky this time but one more little extra unnecessary detail like that could have us exposed. What the hell were you thinking?”

“Valerie?”

McCall called out her name before I had the chance to respond. Valerie quickly let go of me and straightened out her clothes as McCall turned around. I could only hope he missed the position we were in.

“Yes?” she asked, face and tone completely devoid of her previous anger.

“Would you like something to eat, too?”

Valerie shrugged. “Sure. I could eat something.”

—

“So…” Agent McCall trailed off in his pathetic attempt to make small talk as we ate. “Er, Valerie.” Valerie’s head perked up from where she was sitting across from me, playing with her chopsticks. “How’s Isaac?”

Valerie and I exchanged confused looks over the dinner table before the memory washed over us both at once. Ugh, that stupid lie was gonna haunt me forever.

“Um,” Valerie said, bringing her gaze away from mine in favor of looking at McCall, “he moved to France.”

“Oh.”

“Who’s Isaac?” asked Derek, who had been watching mine and Valerie’s exchange.

“None of your business,” I grumbled, shoving another serving of rice in my mouth.

Agent McCall cleared his throat. “How did you guys…” he trailed off again, gesturing vaguely with his hands to try to communicate what he meant. “Handle that?”

“Oh, um,” Valerie bit her lip, “we broke up?” she said, but it sounded more like a question than an answer.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Valerie opened her mouth to respond, but she was interrupted by Derek, who piped in with another one of his annoying questions.

“Isaac’s your ex boyfriend?”

Valerie pursed her lips, pulling a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Um, yeah.” She nodded before looking back at Agent McCall. “Thanks for your concern, but it’s fine. We both agreed that we are better as friends, anyway.” Despite my grumpy attitude, that sentence made a small pleased smile pulled at my lips. As Valerie had finished talking, she took a quick glance at me before looking back down at her plate.

McCall nodded. “Well, that’s good to hear. So, uh, Miguel…” Derek’s head perked up. “What did you say your last name was again?”

“Oh, it’s Juarez,” I said before Derek even had the time to register the question, “Cinqua Tiago– ah!”

McCall looked at me strangely as I leaned down to stroke my chin that Valerie had oh so gently kicked, glaring at me over the table, while Derek looked at me like I was the strangest dude he’s ever met.

“That’s a… that’s a mouthful,” Agent McCall mumbled. I nodded. “How do you spell that?” he asked Derek. Said boy turned to me with raised eyebrows, a dumb smug look on his face.

“Phonetically,” I said, as if it was obvious. Valerie let out a quick laugh before she quickly went back to her glare, remembering she was supposed to be mad at me.

“Mr. McCall, you’re an FBI Agent?” said Derek suddenly. I followed his gaze and saw that he was looking at McCalls keys which were laying on the table beside him. His badge was attached to it. Valerie and I exchanged panicked looks across the table. This was not good.

“He’s low level,” I said, trying to prevent the disastrous potential outcome. “Very low level. He doesn’t even have a voice.”

“So do you investigate murders?” asked Derek, completely ignoring me.

McCall nodded. “Sometimes. When it’s a federal crime.”

“What about fires?”

“I wonder where Scott is,” said Valerie loudly, putting her chopsticks down and looking around the room. “Scott should totally be here by now? I think we need to call Scott. Stiles, call Scott.”

“What kind of fires are you talking about?”

“Huh?” I asked, nervous laughter rippling out of my throat as I pulled out my phone to call Scott.

“Do you know anything about the Hale family?”

—

Valerie quickly pulled Derek off of me as we entered Scott’s room, standing as a shield between us. I leaned back against the door Derek had pushed me up against. He was glaring at me, but he stood still where Valerie had pushed him. At least he was smart enough not to start a fight with her, especially with Agent McCall still in the house.

“Okay, I didn’t lie. I omitted certain truths,” I rambled. “Vital truths now that I’m thinking about it.”

“I don’t wanna talk to you!” Derek shouted. “I wanna talk to the Alpha. I’ll talk to Scott.”

“Okay,” I said cautiously. “We’re gonna go get him.” I opened the door and grabbed Valerie’s arm, ignoring the weird look she gave me. “My phone’s downstairs. Gonna call him real quick. You stay here. Just don’t move, okay? Don’t move.” I walked out of the door, dragging Valerie with me.

“Why the hell are you dragging me with you?” Valerie questioned. “Someone should watch him.”

“Yeah, right. I don’t trust that guy one bit. I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

Valerie rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure I can handle myself against a 15-year-old werewolf.”

“Cut the sarcasm, woman. You’re coming with me.”

—

Scott had answered immediately and filled us in on the information Peter had provided, telling me things I never wanted to know. Apparently Kate and Derek used to… sleep together, and Kate had brought him back to that age. When he still trusted her.

“No. He’s in your bedroom. He’ll be totally fine,” I said as Valerie and I climbed back up the stairs to Scott’s bedroom. “To be honest, I’m starting to miss the old Derek. So if you actually think that Kate’s coming to find him–”

Both Valerie and I froze as we entered the doorway. Derek was nowhere to be seen, and on the windowsill of the open window sat none other than Kate Argent. She looked at me, a smirk pulling at her lips before she jumped out.

Valerie pursed her lips. “Well, I’m not one to say I told you so but…”

“Oh please,” I scoffed, “your catchphrase is ‘I told you so’.”

—

Valerie and I arrived by the school as soon as we could, where Peter thought Kate was taking Derek to. We got out of the jeep, hearing sounds of a fight and immediately following it. Valerie led our way up the stairs, halting immediately when she’d made her way up, making me bump into her back.

I followed her gaze. Scott, Malia and Kira were all lying on the floor, staring at a figure standing in front of them. The man turned around and stepped out of the shadows, revealing his claws, black hair and stubble.

Big D was back. Dammit, Valerie!

–––

taglist: @idontgiveahufflefuck64​ @woyee​

bittersweet taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​ @theholydestiny​ @1967-chevy-impala-called-roscoe​ @cherry-sweet-cherry @kingidols-blog​ @xceafh​ @purple286​ @bilesxbilinskixlahey​ @chipster-21​ @profoundscissorshandsdiplomat @michellebarista​ @may-rapp​ @nicole-lynne​ @lostinwonderland314​ @wandascarlett​ @the-famdoms-shall-be-united​ @missindecision​ @mvrylee​ 

[peachnewt]

Midnight Snack - Playing House

Fluff to the max. Intimate times between two men insinuated but not graphically described in text.  Deep kissing is present.  Skip between the &&& if you prefer to not read it.  The Getting In Deep series and it’s short stories are my own creation.  Do not steal or alter.  

 Papers, magazine cutouts, and equations sat in piles on Will's desk.  Will, headless of the slippery magazine paper that threatened to kiss the ground, kept taking notes from his screen.  

When Reese arrived, he was surprised to see Will at work before everyone else in Main Tech.  

"Getting a head start on a case?" asked Reese.  

"No."  Will tabbed his screen and frowned.  "I'm helping Louis find a house."  

"Really?" Reese wondered how far Louis and Will had gotten in their relationship.  "Why would he want to move?"  

Reese walked around Will's desk to look at the screen.  

When house hunting, most people imagine realtors, property tax, curb appeal, square footage, and zoning issues.  The average challenges one would find on HGTV shows.  Reese expected to see Zillow listings, or Homefinder.  He hadn't expected Barbie's Malibu Dream Home from Toys-R-Us.  

Reese blinked, wondering if the morning caffeine had yet to kick in.  "A dollhouse?"  

Louis walked into Main Tech with two mugs.  "Yeah, because everything I found is, in Will's words, "dinky plastic trash"."

"They don't even have it proportioned right.  I did the calculations," said Will, scrolling through the preview images of other child- sized dollhouse.  "The bathtub is right next to the door, who does that?"  

"Those things are meant for playing with, not living in," said Louis, nursing his second cup of coffee and handing Will his tea.  They had spent the last half hour descending into a research spiral of toy sites looking at houses and miniatures.  Louis began thinking this was actually worse than real house hunting.  

"I have a civil engineering degree, I'm allowed to be offended," said Will.

"You would be offended at the construction of a gingerbread house."  

"Those are for decoration and eating.  It's not the same thing."  

"One moment.  I feel like I need a little bit of clarification."  Reese struggled to catch up with the train of thought Louis and Will had gotten on, apparently leaving him behind at the station.  "Louis, why are you in the market for a dollhouse?"  

Louis sat and spun his chair to catch the slipping pile of magazine clippings.  "Because some nights I'm sleeping in a shoebox on Rachel's desk."  

There had been nights when Louis was too exhausted to switch back from his tiny sized self and had to sleep in Rachel's office.  His "room" consisted of a shoe box with a tiny flat pillow for a mattress, a linen square for a blanket, a charging stand for his large sized phone, and a rectangle hole for a door.  

"I feel like a kitten awaiting adoption by the side of the road," Louis continued.

"I see.  I wouldn't mind sleeping in a shoebox on Rachel's desk," said Reese, a dreamy look in his eyes.  

Beni, carrying a dozen doughnuts in one hand and a RockStar energy drink in the other, paused as she entered Main Tech.  "I think I need context."  

***

Ten minutes later, Beni had been pulled into the communal craze of looking up tiny dollhouses.  They pulled up everything from antique houses made in the 1950s, to Lego replicas of Hogwarts.  By a stroke of a keyword during Beni's search, she hit the mother load with DIY Dollhouse kits sold on specialty hobby sites.  They ranged from Modern loft apartments, to Chinese homesteads complete with a throne room.  They even had miniature cafe's with tiny pastries.  Each dollhouse listing came with a video on how to construct it.  Of course, with a specialty hobby, it came with a specialty price.  

"It's a friggin' bed," said Louis, gesturing to the miniature furniture on the screen. "How hard is it to make a proper bed for at 1/24th scale that isn't going to cost a fortune?  That's what... eight popsicle sticks?"  

"If you want quality at that size then you are going to pay what its' worth," said Reese. "What is more expensive, a Rolex, or a bedside clock?"  

Will pulled up a video with a house similar to a few of the magazine cutouts.  "Most of these do-it-yourself kits use either hot glue or E6000.  Not keen on having a building kept together with hot glue."  

Louis grunted, mesmerized by large hands setting up a tiny living room.  "Are we spiraling again?"

"Yes, but it's a very satisfying spiral."  

Louis, Will, Reese, and Beni gathered around one screen, tallying the pros and cons of certain designs, and pulling up more DIY dollhouse videos.  

When Cetz arrived at Main Tech, he saw four of his agents picking out dollhouses.  

Cetz felt a headache coming on.  "Know what.  I don't need context.  Meeting in ten."  

**

Eventually Louis picked a DIY kit for a cabin that put him back sixty dollars.  It arrived a week later and Louis set up shop in a spare workroom at the Watch.  He proceeded to burn his hand with a hot glue gun while trying to assemble the walls.  Will approached with ice, tweezers, and a small tube of craft glue.  They finished the small dwelling in an afternoon.  

Half of the tiny furnishings, flower pots, pictures, cute figurines of boats, never made it into the cabin.  They were pasted together for posterity to say it had been finished, and they left in a heap by the dwelling.  None of the furniture went where it was supposed to; Louis didn't trust the stairs to hold if he walked up to the second floor.  The bed ,made of thin wood, looked better than the tiny pillow in his shoebox.  If nothing else, it looked more like a bed.  It looked like a dwelling meant for a human. It even had lighting he could turn off and on with a switch at the bottom of the display platform.  

Louis stood back from the cabin and cracked his back.  His fingers had nearly been glued together while applying wallpaper, and his eyes ached having to look through a magnifying glass.  Will clicked on the light to the house.  They looked proud of their creation, showing it off to Beni, Reese, and Rachel when they came by.  

"It's a good starter home," said Rachel, handing Louis a bag of coffee grounds with a bow taped on it. "Happy housewarming."  

Louis grinned.  The cabin itself was slightly wider than his shoebox but twice as tall, and the platform it stood on was as big as a desk blotter.

"I want one," said Beni, flipping the switch on and off.  

"Make your own," said Louis.  

"I will!" said Beni, a spark of competition in her eyes.  "I'll make one so nice you'll want to sleep there instead!"  

Reese, enticed leaned over. "Care to make a wager?"

The next day, Beni and Reese also ordered DIY dollhouses.  

Louis vowed to never set foot in any of their deathtraps.  

Will vowed to make sure neither of them burned their fingers or used adhesives that could cause respiratory distress.  

While Beni and Reese awaited their kits, Louis ended up exhausted after a long day of testing, and unable to switch back to normal size.  The first night in his new, self-made home.  Rachel left him on her desk, the shoebox on one side, and his cabin on the other.  Louis stumbled wearily to the cabin.  When he laid down on the bed he immediately regretted the thin bit of padding he had mistaken for a mattress.  It had looked fluffy enough when he had glued the stuffing down.  He dragged the cheap pillow out of the shoebox and into the cabin.

Will found him the next morning splayed akimbo on the cushion, wrapped up in the thin "bed spread" like a croissant.  

"Bed not work?"

"I could feel beads of dried glue under the mattress."  Louis snuggled tighter into the pillow until Will coaxed him onto his palm and into the lab to "grow up".  

Louis had been so miserable with the construction of his tiny bed, he actually looked forward to Beni and Reese's dollhouses

The two kits arrived and Will made sure the construction was a surprise to Louis, warding him from the workshop as Beni and Reese unpacked their kits with child-like glee.  

They wondered if the two former thieves ever got something like a dollhouse in their younger years.

Instead of cranking out the houses in an afternoon, Beni and Reese took half hours off between shifts to work on them.  Both seemed to find contentment in their distraction.  After a week, they were finished.  

Reese had constructed a gothic themed Victorian home with a tiny staircase hidden behind a bookshelf full of miniature books.  Several windows were painted to look like stained glass.  And the bed was a four-poster with a canopy.  His pride had been renovating the kitchen area to have a tiny fridge that actually worked and held tiny shots of pudding he had made himself. And on one wall he had put up a tiny grandfather clock, made with a working clock face.  

"Somebody likes their gothic," said Will as he squinted to see inside the hidden staircase. "Good detail."  

"Classic taste is good taste."  

Beni had gone modern with a split level house.  White on silver furnishings with touches of neon purple and one of the accent walls for a workout room consisted of an entire mirror.  The bed was covered in multiple pillows, each a shade of gray or white.  Her pride was adding a slide from the top level to the bottom, the landing cushioned with a layer of cotton balls.  

"Very playful," said Will.  

"Got most of the style stuff from a Home & Garden magazine.  But who wouldn't want a slide in their house?"  

Louis shrunk, bypassed all the fancy additions and special furnishings, shooting like a tired arrow towards the beds.  First the canopy bed, then a gray bed with all the pillows.  

Louis groaned in defeat. "It's still not comfortable enough."  

However, he did try the slide, the hidden stairs, and the pudding in the tiny fridge.  Beni and Reese then made Louis promise to shrink them so they could experience the houses themselves.  

Will eyed the beds and the shoebox a warm glow coming to his eyes.  It had been a while since he had done a construction project.  

***

The magazine clippings came back out; Will organizing different furniture pieces and photos from Architectural Digest.  Over the next month, between date entry and retrieval missions, Will peppered Louis with random questions.  

"Dark stain or light?"  

"Oriental, log cabin, industrial, modern?"  

"How much do you cook verses eating out?"  

"Do you like gardens?"  

"How about koi ponds?"  

"Silk sheets or cotton?"  

"How do you not know the answer to that?" said Louis, setting aside another patent.  "Cotton."  

"I mean if you won the lottery and could afford anything, silk or cotton?" said Will.

"Still cotton."

It wasn't until Will pulled Louis over to look at a blueprint that he caught on to what Will had been doing.  

"Are you designing a custom dollhouse for me?"  

"Kinda.  I'm not an architect, but I thought I could make you something more than a shoebox or a DIY kit."  A light blush bloomed on Will's neck.  "I want your input on it.  You'd be sleeping there after all."  

"All I want is a better bed," said Louis.  "I respect that little pillow, it's gotten me through some rough nights, but I want a real bed."  

From the blueprint it looked similar to some of the custom DIY dollhouses the three of them had constructed.  Everything from the steps to the sofa had equations measuring out its diameters so it would match Louis' stature when he shrunk.  Multiple chambers, the front wall of the house on a hinge so the insides could be exposed or not, a set of stairs, all on a platform with an outside space with a...

"Is that a gazebo?"  

"Yep," said Will. "Do you want a pond or a pool?"  

"It's a place for me to sleep when I have to stay the night, fanboy," insisted Louis.  "You don't have to go all out with this.  I just wanted something better than a shoebox."  

"But I want to."  

Louis smirked. "Feeling a little competitive after Beni and Reese made their own houses?"  

"...little bit."

"I thought so." Louis brushed his lips to the side of Will's mouth, leaving a coffee ghost of a kiss, and grabbed Will's empty mug. They both needed refills.  "Have at it, fanboy.  Surprise me.  Just... no koi pond.  Especially no koi; those suckers can get huge."  

***

A month later Will led a blindfolded Louis to Rachel's office.

"Are we there yet?" asked Louis.  

"One moment." Will let go of Louis' hands with a squeeze.  "Stay here.  No peeking."  

Louis heard the flicking of switches and the opening of a door.  

"Okay, you can see."  

Louis peeled off the blindfold.  Rachel's office was dimmed, the majority of the light coming from another dollhouse. His jaw dropped.  It spanned half of Rachel's desk.  The house was modern, mostly white trimmed in dark blue and splashes of red.  Like most of the DIY dollhouses the insides were exposed for "play", but this one had a full roof and a panel that acted like a door to the whole front half of the house.  However, the house only took up a third of the platform.  

Behind the house stood a stately garden of green moss, flat pebble paths, and a gazebo overlooking the rise of real seedlings from a small herb patch.  In the center of the garden rose a bonsai strung up with tiny lights like a Christmas tree, and a swing.  The bonsai stood small in comparison to a regular sized shrub, but to an almost three inch human, it would look like a grand tree.  

Louis came closer, leaning in to see the tiny details of the dollhouse.  "How in the world did you do something like this?"  

"Civil engineer, remember.  A lot of my college projects were making models of infrastructure.  That and a lot of model kits."  

Louis motioned to the hinged front of the house.  "Can I...?"  

"I made it for you, yes!"  

Louis opened the front of the house to an open floor plan, tiny lighting, bits of shiny tile, and dark stained furniture.  The DIY houses had similar plans, but this one seemed polished, more real than play.

"Cetz and Reese helped assemble most of the house," said Will.  "Beni picked out the bonsai."  

"The furniture." Louis gently picked up the coffee table from the living room.  I weighed heavy in his hand, not balsa wood or cardboard.  "Those aren't popsicle sticks.  How the hell did you...?"  

"I have some crafty friends on the con circuit that were willing to do some detailed commissions. A lot of it was 3D printed, but the finer furniture was done by hand.  Not a hot-glue stick in sight."  

Louis set down the coffee table and took a closer look at the kitchen.  "Those drawers actually pull out?"  

"Yep."  

"The sink... holy shit there is actual water."  

"Yeah, actual plumbing. We'll have to do the dishes by hand, no dishwasher that size.  But there is water in the kitchen area and the bathroom, both connected to a gallon water heater under the desk."  

Louis noted the "we".  One of them washing while the other dried with the tiny towels and the tiny drying rack. A domestic image he never thought he'd get in real life.  Well, really tiny life.  

"Reese installed his patented snack fridge, I see," said Louis.

"Snacks are a must," said Will.  "Fully stocked with bits of cheese, chocolate, pudding, and a slice of pepperoni. Eating like borrowers."

"Every window has curtains."

"And blackout curtains if you need some dark space."

A refuge, Louis realized.  If I need space or time and I'm stuck, I don't have to feel like a lab rat.  

"That's actual leather on that couch," said Louis, dragging his mind back to the house tour.

"I could afford a quarter yard of real leather."  

Louis saw two charging ports for phones set into the wall so the screens could act as a television. He could imagine the movie nights. One giant kernel of popped corn between them.  

"The doors actually shut and lock?" asked Louis.

"Tiny magnets in the door and door frame.  Also..." Will pointed to where the front of the house closed, hiding the view of the inside.  "Push a latch here, and the whole front of the house will lock from the inside so you can have privacy."  

Louis reopened the front of the house.  He followed the line of sight from the living room, up the stairs, to the bedroom. Dark wood furnishings and soft gray upholstery.  The bed looked neat and tidy as a stuffed envelope, lined in silvery blue and deep red pillows.  

"I made the bed."

"Like you folded the sheets or you made the bed and bed frame personally?"  He had to ask because it seemed Will had been willing to spin his own thread for the sheets.

"Both.  Took a couple of live video tutorials for the frame. No craft glue, or double sided tape. Half a drop of wood paste, tiny dove joints, and teeny finishing nails.  I know you said cotton, but I got denier microfiber silk fabric for the sheets so the thickness is comparable what you would have at normal size."

Louis pressed a finger down on the tiny bed, eyeballing the measurements.  "California King?"  

"Yep."  Will skipped over the fact he had carved by hand a bed definitely made for two.  "Cut the mattress out of memory foam."  

Louis examined the rest of the bedroom.  Interesting that Will had included a washbasin and washcloths when there was an en suite bathroom.  No closet or wardrobe, instead an empty trunk lay at the foot of the bed.  Louis wouldn't need changes of clothing since whatever he shrunk with would have to grow back with him.  The lamp on the bedside table gave a golden glow.  When he opened the bedside cabinet he found a few extra amenities that made the back of his neck heat up.  

Will's bashful look said it all.  

"Wow." Louis cleared his throat, trying to draw his mind away from the bedroom.  The gesture of it all struck him deep.  Will and he still lived in separate places.  Will had made a place for them to be together.  A home that belong to them, not one or the other.  

Okay.  No tears.  Suck it up.

Louis sniffed, needing a distraction.  "So, random question, what was the most expensive thing in this whole house?"

"Well, parts of the electrical plan and plumbing nearly cost me my patience."  

Louis snickered, pulling Will in by the back of the head to kiss his temple.  "Your poor brain.  Let me guess, the leather couch?"  

"Nope.  Made from scraps.  Very cheap."  

"The tiny fridge?"

"The way Reese made it, no.  It cost me a dozen maple bacon doughnuts and a cheesecake."  

"The bonsai. Gotta be the bonsai."  

"Actually the bonsai was the second most expensive thing.  But Beni did some good bargaining."  

"Really?"  

"Mh hm."  

"What was the most expensive then?"

Will touched the fine sheet on the bed.  

"The bed?" said Louis.

"The sheets," Will clarified.  

"How are a tiny set of sheets that expensive?!"

"When you include express shipping from Japan."  

"Fanboy!"  

"You said the bed was the most important thing, so I made sure it got the right stuff!"  

Laughter took over when Louis refused tears.  He hugged Will closed, his nose brushing into hair that still smelled of soap.  

"C'mere.  Thank you.  I can't believe you went so far for this."  

"I wanted to," murmured Will into Louis' neck, leaving a soft touch of breath.  

Will had wanted to give him a home.  Louis wanted Will to know he was home.

&&&

It sent a shiver down Louis' back, making his belly flutter.  He leaned back on the desk until he sat on it, his thigh close to pushing off a pencil box.  Then he pulled Will by the hips until he stood between his legs, chest to chest. Louis curled his head under Will's neck. Will's hands draped across Louis shoulders as if a buoy to a drowning man and breathed in deep.  Warmth surrounded them like an atmosphere growing around a new planet.  

Louis looked over at the house and smirked.  He wouldn't mind spending the night, if he had company.  

"Wanna test out the bed?" said Louis, pulling back.  "Make sure it's up to your standards?"  

"You mean you want to see if you can wreck the bed," said Will.  

"I know I can wreck you on the bed; if I can wreck the bed with you, bonus."  

The blush at Will's neck charged over the hinge of his jaw and conquered his cheeks and nose.  Louis knew by experience the blushing army had already conquered collarbones and sternum.  He planted the final flag of victory by drawing Will's head down for a kiss, deeper than the rest.  Will relaxed into his embrace like a puddle needing earth to sink into.  Their chests expanded wider with each breath, trying to catch each other in the air around them to pull into their lungs and keep.

Will pulled back, nipping Louis' jaw.  "I dropped the bed, twice."  Nip.  "Survived both times."  A kiss on the chin.  "I'd like to see you achieve what my clumsiness and gravity could not."  

"That a challenge?"  Louis bent his head down, pressed his lips around Will's Adam's apple, and sucked.  

Will moaned, his voice buzzing against Louis' mouth.  Louis pulled Will in by the shoulders as he leaned back further onto the desk, and then focused on the light.  In a breathless flash, they both sat on the desk, just short of three inches tall. After a moment to orient themselves, and calm down enough to get to their feet, they both ran to the door of the dollhouse.  

 The bed did not break. Though they tried.  

 They collapsed under sheets of light silk, catching their breath as sweat cooled on their aching bodies. Will had been wise to include a wash basin, thought Louis.  He didn't want to go all the way to the bathroom for a washcloth.  

&&&

Will tucked himself into the curve of Louis' body.  "So... home sweet home?"  

"Maybe." Louis leaned down and kissed right below Will's sternum, tasting heated skin.  "I've got a home here too."  

Oh, that blush would not go away for hours now.  

"Yeah, you do," whispered Will.  

A well deserved exhaustion overtook them.  

 Louis woke before Will. Making sure Will kept dreaming, Louis scurried out of the house and over to the side of Rachel's desk that still held the cabin.  To the side lay the pile of extra frills that had come with the DIY house; bits of potted plants, fake books and posters.  He picked up a piece of thick printed cardstock about the size of a large postage stamp, and carried it back to Will's house.  It had been a miscellaneous bit of inspirational word art one could find in any furnishing or poster aisle at a craft shop, but it seemed very appropriate.

"Where there's a will, there's a way".

Louis set it by the front door of the new house and then went back in.  He would see if Reese had put anything in the tiny fridge that could help construct a breakfast in bed.

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

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*****

You Have To Fall Before You Can Fly

“For the love of—everybody stop!”

Oh, thank god.  Magnus schools his face into a bored expression, letting go of Alec’s shoulders and leaning nonchalantly back against the institute wall, spreading his wings to either side as he goes.  He doesn’t move from that position as Izzy stalks up to the two of them, hands on her hips.  She stops right in front of him, her eye twitching as she stares between him and her brother.

Alec huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.  Magnus, meanwhile, delicately raises an eyebrow.  “Yes, Isabelle dear?” he asks.

“Why,” she says, her glare sharpening until Magnus almost wants to cringe away from it, “are you two having such a difficult time with such simple instructions.”

Alec huffs again, a sound like a charging bull might make before it gores some unwitting civilian.  He’s frustrated, has been frustrated all day, and seems to be two seconds away from taking it out on anything or anyone within reach.  Understandable—Magnus is frustrated, too, if he’s being honest.  He, however, will be the bigger man.  He���ll keep his cool.  Because that’s what he does—he’s stood strong in the face of stubborn shadowhunters for longer than Alec has been alive, and he’s not about to stop now.

Magnus forces a smile onto his face.  “We’re working on it,” he says, which both is and isn’t a lie.  They’re working on the choreography right now, yes, but that isn’t the reason they’re having such a hard time with it.  That owes more to the fact that they haven’t said more than two words to each other since the day began.

Izzy drags her hands down her face.  “We don’t have time for this.  We only have so much time before the ceremony—”

And there she goes, off ranting about the state of the preparations and the dancers and all the effort she’s put in to make this work and are you two even listening to me?

Magnus shakes himself.  “Of course, dear,” he says.  “Why don’t Alex—”  He cuts himself off.  He can’t call Alec by his full name right now, they’re fighting.  Which is fine, a fight isn’t the end of the world, but Alec had asked for space yesterday and now Magnus is all on the wrong foot.  He corrects, saying instead, “Why don’t your brother and I just… try again, hm?”

Izzy scrutinizes them for a long moment.  “Alec?” she says.  “Are you willing to try again?”

Alec doesn’t say anything for a long moment.  Magnus’s heart, despite his attempts not to let it, sinks down to his knees.  They’re fighting, yes—over some petty squabble that turned realer in the heat of the moment than either of them meant it to—but Alec is as stubborn as they come.  If even he can’t push through this to learn the choreography for the ceremony, then maybe they shouldn’t be here at all.

Then Alec sighs, a heavy sound, and says, “One more time.”

So they go one more time.  They start on the ground, standing opposite each other—they’ll take off at a run and meet in the middle and, if all goes well, Alec will lift Magnus with two hands on his waist and Magnus will spread his wings and get off the ground and lift Alec in turn and they’ll begin the aerial part of the dance and—

—and—

—Magnus stops at the last second, wings flaring out at his sides, flapping in agitation.  “What is it?” he asks, frowning at Alec.

Alec frowns back at him.  “What do you mean?  You’re the one who stopped,” he says.

“I stopped because you looked off.”

“I was concentrating on doing my part.  What do you want from me, a prince charming smile?”

“No, but I would like to know that I’m not going to get thrown to the ground.”

“Hey, I’m doing my part, it’s you who isn’t doing yours—”

Magnus puffs up, his feathers fluffing outward as he steps forward to lean into Alec’s space.  Before he can get there, however, Izzy is between them, a hand planted on each of their chests.

“Okay, okay, jesus.  Cool down, guys,” she says.

Alec grunts, pushing away from her.  He doesn’t say anything else, just goes to pick up his jacket and walks away from the courtyard, his strides long and his gaze deadly, shadowhunters and downworlders alike stepping quickly out of his way.

“Great,” Izzy mutters.  Then she turns on Magnus, her gaze piercing.  “You wanna tell me what all of that was about?”

Magnus snorts, contemplating summoning up a martini.  “Nothing you need to worry about,” he says, closing his eyes for a long moment.

Izzy snorts.  “Apparently it is.  You two are going to ruin the whole shindig at this rate.  All that work both of you have put in to get the shadowhunters and the downworlders to work together and suddenly you two are on the outs?”

“So it would seem,” Magnus says, and normally he doesn’t feel his age but suddenly he’s weighed down by all the many centuries he’s been alive.  He gives Izzy a weak smile and wanders away, heading toward home with his shoulders slumped and his wings all but dragging on the ground.

“Hey!  We’ll pick it up again early tomorrow, okay?” Izzy calls after him.  He raises one bejeweled hand in acknowledgment before gesturing a portal into existence.  Tomorrow… ugh.  Tomorrow is a problem for Future Magnus.  Right Now Magnus, in the meantime, is going to go home and get spectacularly drunk and wallow in self-pity for a good long while.

Or at least he intends to.  When he arrives at the loft and spies a pair of Alec’s spare gloves sitting on the coffee table, however, all the energy goes out of him.  He groans, suddenly exhausted, and goes to plant himself face-down in bed instead, closing his eyes against the light of the setting sun.  He just… this fight.  It’s not all his fault, really—maybe twenty percent of it is his fault—but he still feels bad about it.  Even twenty percent is too damn much, and he knows that he said a few things that hurt Alec.  He just… he doesn’t know how to bridge the gap now that it’s here.  Now that Alec has pulled back.

It was never going to last, says a snipped little voice in his head.  He grunts, rolling over and planting a pillow over his face.  It doesn’t stop the voice, which sounds like a bastardized version of Ragnor, from then saying, he’s a shadowhunter—what did you really expect?

He doesn’t know.  All he knows is that Alec… Alec has always been different.  Or so he thought.  But maybe… god, could it be wishful thinking?  He doesn’t want it to be, but fuck, what if it is?  What if this is just Camille all over again, and he’s deluded himself into thinking that something is different about Alec when it isn’t?  What if—?

He twitches, shaken from the spiral of his thoughts by his wards pinging to let him know that Alec is on his way up.

Magnus frowns.  That… can’t be right.  Alec shouldn’t be here—they’re fighting, after all.  He said it himself not two days ago, he was going to stay at the Institute for a few days to get some space.

Someone clearly hasn’t gotten the memo.  With a grunt, Magnus pries himself up off his bed and heads to the door.  He’s half tempted to make Alec stand outside for a few minutes just to be petty, but he doesn’t want to do that, he finds.  For as off as they’ve been lately, he misses Alec.  And whatever Alec is here for, it must be important.  Right?

Magnus bites the inside of his cheek, schooling his face into neutrality as he buzzes Alec up before Alec can even touch the buzzer.  He waits until he can feel Alec on the other side of the door, brushing up against his inner wards, before he opens it in one swift motion.

“How can I help you?” he asks, not quite in his High Warlock voice but close.

Alec, standing on the other side of the door with his fists shoved in the pockets of his jacket, doesn’t meet his eyes.  “I was just… I thought…”  He takes a deep breath, raising his eyes.  “I wanted to know if you would take a walk with me.”

Magnus blinks.  That’s… not what he expected.  But Alec seems sincere, if a little awkward.  This is an olive branch—he’s trying.  Honestly trying.  Magnus can’t deny him something as simple as a walk—he nods, snapping a jacket of his own onto his shoulders.  He gestures for Alec to lead the way.

Alec does, after hesitating a moment more on Magnus’s doorstep.  Then he heads back down the stairs, walking briskly out the door and taking off down the street.

He seems to have a destination in mind, as he doesn’t say a word as they walk.  Magnus matches his long strides, willing to wait him out.  Alec isn’t the greatest with words at the best of times, really.  He’s honest, blunt—it’s one of the things that Magnus generally finds charming about him.  Right now, however, it’s just serving to make him feel more distant from the man he loves.

They walk for nearly twenty minutes before Alec comes to a stop at a construction site of all things.  He nods to Magnus before he steps inside the bare bones of the building, beginning to climb up half-finished stairs.  Magnus frowns and follows, his uncertainty growing.

They are fifteen stories up before Alec comes to a stop, walking out across a bare floor toward the side of the room, where holes for floor-to-ceiling windows wait for glass.  The sun has fully set and the moon is out by the time they settle, side by side, on the ledge.  Alec pauses there for a long moment, fiddling with the edge of his jacket as he collects his thoughts.  The jacket conceals no fewer than three weapons and a stele, Magnus knows—another part of Alec that he’s become familiar with.  Always and forever a shadowhunter, guarded body and mind.  Magnus had thought they were making progress with Alec’s need to protect himself, protect his heart, but then the fight and… well.

He clears his throat, looking at Alec and waiting for him to speak.  Finally he does, his voice low in the night.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he says.  Straight to the point, to the heart of the issue between them.  “If that’s what you thought.”

“I was beginning to wonder, yes,” Magnus says, biting his lip.  Then, making up his mind, he asks, “Would you like to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“I trust you,” Alec says, and the certainty in his voice is a balm to Magnus’s troubled soul.  “I do.  It’s… I just…”

“I hurt you,” Magnus says.  He knows he did.  That isn’t up for debate.

Alec, however, only shrugs.  “Not before I hurt you, first,” he says.  He stares up at the moon, worrying his lip between his teeth.  “I wanted to apologize for that.  I was out of line.”

Oh.  Magnus blinks, hard, and turns out toward the sky as well.  There aren’t many stars, not with the lights of the city so strong around them, but the view is nice all the same.  “You weren’t the only one,” he says.  He breathes slowly out.  “This ceremony… it’s been putting pressure on all of us.”

“Yeah,” Alec says, and snorts a little.  “Izzy’s been a nightmare.”

Magnus smiles.  “But you love her anyway.”

“I do.  And I…”

He pauses again, bunching his fist around the seam of his jacket.  Then he blows out between his teeth, and releases it to scrub a hand over his face.  “There’s just so much riding on this ceremony,” he says.  “For the downworld in particular.  If we can’t… if I can’t… I just feel like I keep screwing everything up.”

Oh.  This whole space thing wasn’t Alec needing distance.  It was Alec feeling like he messed up and pulling back.  Magnus nearly laughs when he realizes that Alec, who has never had a romantic relationship before Magnus, has probably never had a fight like this before, either.  He’s fumbling in the dark, not sure how to fix things, frustrated with himself more than anything.

Well, that won’t do.  Magnus hums, pushing himself to his feet and holding out his hand.

“Here… take my hand,” he says.  Alec does.  Slowly, tentatively.  Magnus can feel tension in Alec’s muscles, the tightness in his shoulders thrumming all the way down to his fingertips.  Still, he doesn’t pull back.

Magnus nods, pleased.  “You trust me,” he says.

“I do,” Alec says, and frowns.  “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that it’s okay.  There’s no one watching us right now.  There’s nothing riding on it.  If you trust me, and I trust you… then let’s do this.  Right here and right now.”

Alec’s eyes flick up from their entwined fingers to meet Magnus’s gaze.  And Magnus… god.  He can see the determination, the strength, that made him fall in love with Alec in the first place.  He’s got fire in his eyes, blazing and brilliant.

“You want to jump from a building together?” he asks, and there’s a laugh on his tongue.

Magnus grins.  “Why not?” he asks.

And Alec… when he grins back, he does it with his entire body, relief at knowing that he’s been forgiven for his part in their fight clear in his eyes.  He was scared, that was all—and Magnus wants him to know that he never has anything to be scared of.  He takes Alec’s hand and raises his knuckles to his own lips, pressing a kiss there.  Then, as Alec laughs, he turns toward the ledge and they both step off in sync.

Together, they fall.  And together… together they fly.

[riversmuses]

To Cleo, Love River

Cleo, 

It’s wild to me how quickly time has gone by since I met you. It doesn’t take a genius to work out how lost I was at the time our relationship started. I was a little boy who cared more about being looked at rather than admired. I had lost so much during that time: I had dumped Jack’s friendship to join the popular jocks, I had lost my dad in a messy divorce and I lost who I was. I didn’t care about anything or anyone, I just wanted to be on top. I was lost in a world of needing substance to feel happy. Hell, there’s so much of high school that I don’t remember because of that mix of pills, alcohol and weed. But I’ll always remember meeting you. I saw you for the first time in the school cafeteria. You were the new girl everyone was talking about. You were so pretty, prettier than any of the girls in our year. I admit that my thoughts of you were so wrong to begin with. I wanted to claim a title of “having” the new girl, be the cool kid. It wasn’t until we started talking (and maybe a bit of flirting) that I realised you were different. A breath of fresh air, someone who reminded me of myself. We started hanging out regularly, I brought you into our group of friends and spent every morning excited to see you at the lockers before the first period. Of course I was encouraged by my circle at the time to get in with you, especially since I found you so pretty. Yet I couldn’t - I couldn’t do that to you. I respected you too much. I cared about you. You had the same lost, anxious look in your eye - the same feeling I felt inside my head. I didn’t want to be someone who let you down or made you sad. I wanted to be someone you could trust, someone who you could call a friend. So, any feeling I had for you, I buried. Everyone called me a pussy but I didn’t care. I liked you, Cleo. I liked you more than anyone I had ever met. I couldn’t do anything to hurt you, so I was your friend. 

And damn, I liked being your friend. A real friend. I started spending more time with you than I spent with anyone else. I had such a relief of tension whenever we were together. You weren’t with me for popularity or to hook-up, you were there cause you cared for me. We became two peas in a pod. You couldn’t get one without the other. I didn’t go anywhere without you because you were the only person I trusted, who I could be real with. You were the first person I told about my interest in movies and music - something that was so important to me yet you didn’t even blink when I told you. You just smiled and told me about your brother, an aspiring filmmaker himself. It was nice - having someone understand me. Looking back now, I know I definitely loved you. Whether I buried it deep down or mistook it for a powerful friendship, I did. But I was flawed. I couldn’t commit to anything, let alone anyone. I was a mess, inside and out. And truthfully? I didn’t care for myself or what I wanted. I cared about you. I wanted you to be happy, with whatever and whoever you wanted. When you got together with Sean, I felt a strange sensation in my chest. A mixed feeling of happiness for you but disappointment from me. I convinced myself that it was because I knew I’d see you a lot less now you had a boyfriend. Looking back, my buried feelings for you were trying so hard to come to the surface. But you looked so happy, so happy with him. You two suited and I wanted that for you. I wanted you to have someone who could yell from the rooftops that they wanted you and treated you right. I couldn’t be that person, so who was I to get in the middle of that beautiful romance? Whether I knew it at the time, I loved you enough to let you go. Being your friend was enough for me. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t have done for you.

A couple years went by, I was out of high school and finding myself. I had lost most of my “friends” and I was going through so much self-reflection. So much guilt. You were there for me, despite having a whole ass relationship and education to juggle. You walked with me for miles, just wanting me to know that you were there for me. You helped bring out the side of me that had been hiding away for so long - the real side of me. The kid that wanted to make movies and music, the kid that longed to have people that loved him close, the kid that hated basketball and wanted to start something new. You helped me reconnect with Jack, you helped find a place for me and my cousin to move into and you sat at my desk in my room helping me apply for college. You did so much for me. I’d speak to my dad every other day about how I was and how you were. He must’ve always known how I felt for you. Yet he just sat there quietly, smiling and nodding at everything I was saying. I finally felt that my life was starting to go somewhere, starting to matter. I never knew how I was ever going to repay you for everything you had done.

It would only be when you and Sean broke up that I eventually had to slip into your shoes for the time being. It broke my heart seeing you so upset. I know you blame yourself, blamed your commitment issues - hell, I completely understood where you were coming from. We were even younger back then so I could imagine how anxious it made you feel. I held you, let you cry despite ruining my t-shirt every time you did. Even though you blame yourself and justified it to me, I still never felt so much anger in my life. Not since my parents’s divorce had I felt this way. It didn’t matter whose fault it was to me - it only mattered that you were left heartbroken by the whole experience. It was because of you that I didn’t do anything stupid to Sean, cause I knew that if I did - I would just be hurting you more. I couldn’t do that to you. You were more important than my emotions. So, I did what you asked. Just to stay close to you, hold you, tell you everything was going to be alright eventually. I did just that. I promised you so much - that I would always be there for you when you needed me. That we would take on the world together. We both shared the dream of living in New York - I promised you that if we were still just us that we could move there together. Be roommates - live our dreams together. I was and still am nowhere near rich but I wanted to buy you the world. Anything to make you smile again. It took us a long time for you to move past that relationship but I didn’t care. I wanted you to trust me and be able to cry in front of me when you needed to. I knew how much you held back in front of everyone else, especially when Sean thought he got a girl pregnant. You were still being your kind self, trying so hard to be okay with it all and even offering to babysit for him and the girl when the baby was born. It bewildered me how someone could have such a big heart and yet be the one in so much pain. So, that’s why I let you cry so much. I wanted you to feel comfortable to do that with me - for me to be the one person you didn’t have to fake your emotions to. I wanted you to let everything out. Like you had always done for me. 

2020 was one of our best years together. We were both young, dumb and together as the best of friends. We partied, had nights in - spent every other day together. We laughed until we cried. We spent days trying to study for school which would just end up with us doing a takeaway run. I was spending the prime years of my life, finally free of social constructs, with you. I was finally communicating to you how much I adored you and wanted you in my life forever. Sure, I was stressed out a lot from school and work the past year. But you always fixed that, always helped me when you could. I didn’t realise how much I would miss you around until I went to Tokyo for three weeks. While it was a blissful time away, I found myself wanting you there with me. I imagined how we’d be jumping on and off the tram, eating weird flavoured ice-cream and using our broken Japanese to get around. I spoke to you as much as I could, despite the time difference. It blew my mind that I was missing home so much, even though I was in this amazing city with my dad. Then again, I wasn’t really missing home, was I? I was missing you. The day that I flew back, I remember my dad hugging me tightly and asking me to send you his love. Cause he knew that as soon as I landed, I’d be with you. You picked me up from the airport, holding a cute “welcome home” sign you made yourself. I hugged you and felt like everything was right again. I was where I needed to be. What was the end of one trip would start another: our road trip to New York to visit Stephen and Ollie. The highlight of my year. Driving hours and hours with you, just laughing and blasting our favourite tunes. The week we spent in New York is one I want to remember when I’m old and grey. The four of us spent so much time around the city, either enjoying the sites or drunk in a bar we found. My favourite nights, however, were the ones we spent in Stephen and Ollie’s loft. We’d play Monopoly, watch movies and trashy tv, eating whatever we wanted and just talking to one another. It felt like a scene in a coming of age film, just being around people who made me unconditionally happy. I loved being with you, imagining if this is what our lives would look like if we eventually moved to New York together. We had so much fun that I was instantly thinking of the next trip - the next time I’d get to be with you and not think about anything else. 

Fast forward a few months, we’d reach my birthday. It started how I’d expect it to - drink with you, have some of your baked goods and enjoy a party thrown by Jack in my honour. It was fun, don’t get me wrong. But I remember standing in my packed living room, completely intoxicated, just wanting to find you. We eventually managed to sneak away, long enough for you to give me my birthday gift. A signed copy of Pulp Fiction: something that was so incredibly me and meant so much. Yet, it touched me more that you got it for me. Spent all that time, effort and money for me. I knew from then that our relationship was so unique. So special. So much more complex than I had originally thought. I was so caught up in being your best friend that when I laid there in my room, falling asleep in your arms, that I realised I felt so much for you. A feeling I couldn’t put into words. I just knew that I wanted to be there with you than anywhere else in the world. We were teased the next day, for sure. But I blocked out that noise by now - you were the only noise I cared to hear. 

Your amazing gift to me got me thinking about what I could for your birthday in Feb. You didn’t want anything, just my presence as you were more a lover of affirmations rather than gifts. Still, that wasn’t good enough for me. I wanted to give you something so that you’d know how much I care for you. So, I did what I did best - I spent weeks and weeks in the college’s music room. Practicing songs that reminded me of us, reminded me of you. I realised that while I would get you physical gifts like the New York canvas and the bee necklace that I wanted to give you something from the bottom of my heart. It took 2 months for me to finish producing an album of covers, songs that were your favourites but also songs that reminded me of you. Those two months opened my eyes so much more than you could ever imagine. I found myself so lost in making that gift for you, listening to the words of these songs I picked that I realised - I was singing to you like a lover. Like someone who had been with you for years and planned on spending the rest of his life in love with you. It was powerful and moving, enough to open the Pandora's Box inside my head. I came to realise that my feelings for you were stronger than any friendship and why I felt so euphoric around you. 

That’s why I’m here now, sitting alone in my room writing what I could only describe to be a love letter. Cause that’s what I feel for you, Bee. Love. Falling for you was the strangest thing that has ever happened to me. I can’t say I wasn’t expecting it to happen cause I always knew deep down I did. Before you, love and everything that came with it didn’t seem real to me. I had complicated family relationships. The lack of love between my mom and I set me up for failure with any other girl. I wasn’t obsessing over girls or having crushes - I liked having sex and that’s what I had with other girls. Just meaningless sex to keep me satisfied. Then I met you and I now realise what everyone is talking about when it comes to the subject. I liked you more than I ever thought I could like anyone and wanted to spend every moment with you. You are the only girl I have ever wanted to be with. I realise that despite my issues of love and relationships, that all went out the window when I met you. No-one else ever came close to you. Not even Emerald. 

I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to have that sexual intimacy with you. Cause trust me, I do. I think about what it would be like more often than I should. But you’ve taught me that there’s more than just that. We shared intimacy in the smallest of things. Pouring each other glasses of wine, applying face masks to each other’s faces with pure concentration, the little forehead kisses I’d give you, driving late night together, walking side by side, feeding each other McDonalds fries, tight hugs, falling asleep in each other’s arms - you have made me appreciate so much of what love can offer. That’s something that I never thought I’d say. And while I loved being your best friend, I’d love to be your boyfriend more. 

Whenever I think of my future, I just want you to be in it. I wanna live in the most beautiful city with an even more beautiful girl next to me. The thought of it makes my heart pound in my chest - how I would have completed life if it came true. I promise you if we do end up moving there together (regardless if we were a couple or just best friends) that I’ll make you all the gluten free pancakes in the world. Anything for you.

You are my first crush and my first love. And I genuinely believe that you will be my last. 

I love you, Cleo Somers. I really fucking do. 

Love, 

River x

[ifyouvegotthemoneyhoney]

Sunset Love ch. 4: I can’t stop myself

Getting up in the morning was never a problem for Slash. The gnawing craving for alcohol woke him every morning early, regardless of how much (or little) he'd slept the night before.

It was around one in the afternoon and he had been up for hours. He had fled the garage as soon as he'd woken that morning, not wanting to face Axl. He had put a stop to things the night before, mumbling something about being tired and jumping up into the loft to sleep. Alone - to be fair, Axl hadn't pushed it; he had stayed on the floor.

As soon as he was out on the street, Slash had forked over the last of his cash from his old newsstand job for a bottle of Jack, then called over to Izzy's place. Izzy's girlfriend was out, so the two spent an agreeable few hours on the sofa, putting away the whisky and talking about  the band.

"Hey, that reminds me," said Izzy, putting down the empty bottle on the shaky coffee table. "The rehearsal space is a fucking disaster, man."

"Whaddya mean?" said Slash, his head lolling pleasantly against the back of the sofa.

"You and Axl live there," replied Izzy. "Me, Duff and Stevie are gonna be there every fuckin' day - and probably a lot of nights. We gotta make it a bit more - I dunno, livable. We gotta fix up somewhere to sleep."

Through his whisky haze, Slash realised what Izzy was getting at.

"Right," he said. "A fuck space."

Izzy chuckled.

"Correct, my friend. I think you'll agree that the rehearsal space is going to be used for that purpose? I don't think any of us is keen to get it on with someone on that fuckin' hard-ass concrete floor."

Slash felt his face get warm. He dipped his head to take a long drag on his cigarette.

Izzy stood up and patted his pockets for his key.

"Uhhh...where we going?" said Slash.

Ten minutes later, Slash found himself ducking his head and following Izzy through a gap in a chain-link fence around into a construction site just off Clark Street. Despite his long history of shop-lifting and general pilfering, Slash was glancing around.

Izzy snorted. "It's Saturday, dude. Construction workers aren't like us - they don't work weekends."

He was right. No-one bothered them as they selected a few lengths of plywood and wooden blocks that were stacked against a wall. Ten minutes later again, they were pulling open the door to the studio on Sunset and Gardner.

Sunlight hit the bare walls inside, cutting through the dark. Incredibly, Axl had been still asleep  in his snakeskin jacket on the concrete floor. He didn't look too happy to see them.

"What the fuck?" Axl groaned, squinting.

"It's the afternoon, asshole," said Izzy, nudging Axl in the side with his toe and, with a grunt, letting the wood he'd been carrying crash to the floor.

Slash noticed the easy camaraderie between the old school friends. He was always more cautious when he talked to Axl. Everyone knew that Axl was a grenade, liable to explode at any moment.

"I'm here to do you a massive favour, Ax," Izzy declared. He started laying out the two-by-fours, then produced a box of nails and some tools from his pocket. "Slash and I realised this place is not very fucking hospitable to the so-called fair sex. Plus there's no space on the floor with all our gear. We're going to build a loft."

Slash spent the next few hours - alongside following Izzy's building instructions - discreetly observing Axl. He found it funny to see him doing manual labour - clearly unwillingly. Probably, Slash thought as he held pieces of wood while Izzy sawed and hammered, Axl felt it was beneath the job of a singer to labour with the rest of them. But Duff and Steven were nowhere to be seen and it was his home, so Axl had to muck in.

It was so sexy the way Axl clenched his jaw when he was annoyed or concentrating. Through his hair, Slash observed the muscles at the angle of Axl's jaw rise and fall. And the way his full lips pursed a little at the same time. Every so often, Slash got annoyed at himself, sneaking looks like a besotted school girl. But he couldn't help himself. Plus, the rehearsal space was tiny - ten by fourteen feet - so they were working literally shoulder to shoulder.

Try as he might, he couldn't stop sensations from last night coming back into his mind. Warm, smooth lips against his own. The sweet, coffee-like aroma of their sweat intensifying as they kissed, slowly, delicately. Breath coming fast and rough from their throats.

"I said hold it steady!" came Izzy's voice, irritated, waking Slash from his reverie.

Slash tried to concentrate. He and Axl were standing in among Steven's drums, holding over their heads the flat wooden structure they had nailed together, while Izzy hammered it to the small wood blocks he had attached to the wall. Slash glanced in Axl's direction and thought, fuuuck. The space had warmed up as the day wore on and Axl had discarded his jacket. He was bare-chested, ropes of muscles in his arms and abdomen on full display.

Slash closed his eyes, willing his twitching cock to be still. He was surprised to notice that sadness was mixed in with his lust. Yes, Axl was naturally strong, but the guy was also thin. The rest of the band, including himself, had mocked the sucked-in-cheeks look Axl had in their one band photoshoot so far. Slash now realised those cheekbones were so prominent because the guy had barely enough to eat.

Izzy was standing back and rubbing his palms on his pants.

"A good day's work, gentlemen!"

And there it was, their new loft. The living space in the studio had just increased by roughly fifty per cent. Just above head height, just enough space to hoist yourself up and roll in, perfect for their purposes. They regarded it with pride.

Slash sucked deeply on a fresh cigarette and frowned.

"Did we, like, just spend the afternoon doing home improvements?" he said.

***

"Man, I love that stuff!" shouted Steven, taking a long swallow and thrusting the bottle high into the night air.

It was around four in the morning on Palm Avenue, West Hollywood. The first shafts of daylight were beginning to tease the grey sky. The five of them were walking home from an uproarious night in Lizzy Grey's sleazy apartment with even sleazier chicks and some coke Duff had produced. They left when the coke was gone. They had pushed all the money they had between them - a few dollars - over the liquor store counter for two bottles of Night Train.

"Eighteen per cent," Axl was saying musingly, looking at the label on the bottle in his own hand. He grinned. "Bottoms up!"

"I'm on the Night Train," sang Duff, his head tilted back, his body full of coked-up energy .

Axl took up the snatch of melody and played with it, flinging his arm around Duff. The two stumbled along, singing out of sync and guffawing with laughter.

Slash trailed the rest of the group as they staggered across the junction onto Sunset. His emotions swirled, despite his attempts all evening to anaesthetise them with coke and booze. The afternoon of hard work cheek-by-jowl with Axl had been followed by an evening of being ignored. Axl literally hadn't looked at him the whole time in Lizzy's. And now to top it all off, here was he, Slash, finding himself simmering with jealousy at Axl and Duff.

He hadn't felt this down in a while. He caught up to Steven, grabbed the bottle and took a long, numbing swallow.

At the junction to Gardner Street, he waved half-heartedly and turned left, not bothering to check if Axl was coming. He made out the door of the studio and pulled out his key chain. The studio looked its usual disastrous state, the half-light throwing into relief the trash, the empty cans and bottles. But at least there was the loft. He summoned up the strength to heave himself up and let his aching body fall onto the flat surface. He surrendered his mind to blessed oblivion.

***

He had no idea how much time had passed when he heard the metallic bang of the studio door, then the familiar deep voice.

"Why'd you disappear, man?"

Slash said nothing. He didn't know what to say.

He heard a grunt, followed by cursing and rustling. Axl was swinging his legs into the loft and lying down beside him. The flash of a lighter briefly illuminated Axl's face, his lips balancing a cigarette. Slash felt a flash of annoyance at the warmth that flared low in his belly at the sight.

"You not talkin' to me or what?" came Axl's voice through the darkness.

"Shut the fuck up," grunted Slash, rolling over onto his side, his back to the other man.

There was silence for a moment. Then a hand on his arm. Slash rolled onto his back. He couldn't contain himself any longer.

"What the fuck is happening here, man?" burst out Slash. "Is this how it's going to be? You never speak to me or look at me all day, even in fucking rehearsals, then here at night you - you - we..." He couldn't find the words to finish.

He heard Axl blow out slowly, his breath controlled. The aroma of tobacco filled the air in the tiny space.

"I don't know either, man," came Axl's voice finally, quiet and measured. "I - I don't know. I just can't stop myself touching you."

[rodjelly56]

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[egg-and-koji]

“Shadows of a Legacy” Ch 6 Snippet - Mako x OC Slow Burn

MAKO

Later that night, lying awake in his loft, Mako thinks about the lunch at the diner. More specifically, he thinks about Hanai. The vicious words she used to cut into him and Korra. Her icy glare whenever he spoke. The twitch in her brow and the smug grin half-hidden behind her drink whenever Bolin and Asami said something to embarrass him. He flips over on the lumpy mattress and tries to fall asleep. But she won’t leave his head. It doesn’t matter; he has team practice in the morning to focus on. However, that doesn’t stop the thoughts of her from returning while he straps on his gear.

Her annoyed, puffy cheeked pout when he spun around to chew her out for tripping him. The dimple near the corner of her mouth when she ugly laughed that made his stomach tie in knots. A sharp pain aches his heart. The same way it did when he saw her and froze.

What the hell was that? Wait-why the fuck does it matter?! She's still a stuck-up, know-it-all bitch, who cares if she got... cute?

A word he would have never used to describe her before. Thankfully, Bolin comes down from the apartment the same time Korra surfs in through the window and he doesn’t have to think about it.

"You do know there's a front door, right?" his brother smirks at her.

She grumbles something incomprehensible and stomps over to gear up then joins them for warm-ups.

Korra catches the medicine ball and groans, "What's the big idea with making me train this early in the morning?" She bends her elbows to toss the ball to Bolin and dips her voice. "The morning is evil."

Bolin catches it and shrugs. "We're the rookies so we get the worst time slot in the gym."

Mako huffs as it gets passed to him. "And you're the rookiest of us all. We gotta get you up to speed if you want to survive in the tournament." He tries to push away intruding thoughts from his mind and accidentally tosses the ball back to Korra with unnecessary roughness. "Deal with it!"

"You deal with it!" She tosses the ball back to him, and he's knocked completely off his feet.

He lands skidding on his back. Don't. Say. Anything. She's the Avatar and she will kill you.

“There are my little hardworking street urchins.”

Mako picks himself up as Butakha strolls in and introduces himself to Korra, then he replaces his hat and reaches into his coat for a fat stack of Republic City yuans he hands to a grinning Mako. “Here's your winnings from the last match.”

Perfect, a few more wins and we can get out of-

“Ah-ah! Not so fast,” Butakha wags his thick sausage finger at him. “First, you owe me for the Avatar's new gear-” a few bills disappeared from the top “-gym and equipment rentals for last month.”

Mako reaches for his pocket, but the slimy coordinator stops him, takes payment for rent and a new, new to him at least, personal loan for groceries. He’s left empty-handed and snaps an angry pout at his little brother. “A grocery loan?”

“What?” Bolin shrugs and rubs his stomach. “I'm a growing boy!”

“Oh! And one more small item of business. The Fire Ferrets need to ante up thirty thousand yuans for the Championship pot,” Butahka adds nonchalantly.

“Thirty thousand yuans!?”

“Sorry, kids. You've got till the end of the week to come up with the dough, or else, you're out of the tournament.” He pats Mako on the shoulder, then leaves the gym.

Bolin cranes his head in Korra’s direction. “You wouldn't happen to have a secret Avatar bank account, overflowing with gold, would you?”

Her mouth twists into an awkward grimace as she turns her pockets inside out to show that they're empty. “I got nothing. I've never really needed money. I've always had people taking care of me.”

“Then I wouldn't say you have nothing,” Mako says in an indifferent tone. He picks up the medicine ball and packs it into an equipment bag.

“Sorry, I didn't mean…”

“No, it's alright,” Bolin says with a meek smile. “It's just... ever since we lost our parents, we've been on our own.”

“I'm so sorry. I didn't know.”

Mako zips the bag and throws it over his shoulder. “So anyway, I can see if I can pull a double at the plant if you two keep up with drills.”

“Oh oh or I've been thinking I could maybe see if any of the construction sites need a cleanup crew!” Bolin claps.

“I thought construction companies only wanted metalbenders?” Korra asks.

“Yeah, but they hire regular earthbenders to clean up after jobs when the metalbenders are too tired.”

Mako sighs, “you tried that once and got fired because you made Pabu a mini Republic City. Come on, Bolin, be serious.”

Bolin lowers his gaze and brings Pabu close to his body. “I was serious…”

“Don't worry. I'll take care of it.”

His supervisor allows him to take the extra shift but says it will reach his limit for overtime the owner is willing to pay this month. It might be enough to complete the thirty thousand needed for the pot if he adds all of their savings to it. With Korra on the team, they might have a better chance to win this year. It’s another year of being stuck in the attic if they don’t.

Mako leaves his jacket and scarf in the employee locker room and grabs a thick leather protective apron, rubber gloves, and a forging mask. He and the other lightning generating firebenders line up to enter a large open factory floor with several ceiling-high electrical capacitors in the middle of the room. Pairs of firebenders and earthbenders manipulate flames and coal into roaring boilers while the lightning generators file into single strip rows on both sides of the machines.

He stands in front of his station, his partner on the other side who waits for his green light. A few of the council issued “morale” posters reflect on the glass visor of his mask. Pin-up girls clad in all types of risque swimsuits riding giant bolts of lighting. Showgirls clutching onto dim-witted, grinning Lees snapping lighting from their fingertips. All with slogans like: “The City needs it’s Lightning Champs” or “Dames love a Man with a Spark”. Bullshit, it’s all propaganda...

His station light shines red and his partner charges up his hands then releases his bolt. Mako inhales through his nose and on the exhale he points his index and middle fingers together to launch his. Now his partner. Then back to him.

Inhale. Charge.

Exhale. Release.

Back and forth for hours, passing the whistle for lunch and the whistle for shift change. He gets a new partner and the process repeats itself. Sometimes the guys chat while they work; about the latest game, about their wives or girlfriends-sometimes both. One guy always complains about a funny itch he gets after seeing some of the girls around Dragonflats Borough. Sometimes they try to talk to him. Other times they don’t. They know by now he’s too serious. Too focused. On his job, his team, his little brother.

No time to waste thinking about cute girls who return home from a long time away from the city.

The steam whistle sounds. His shift ends.

A quick stop to get dinner for himself and Bolin, and he’s back at the arena by sunset. He drags himself up the stairs and calls out, “Bo! I'm back! Picked up your favorite dumplings.” Mako groans and his body hits the couch with a thud. He stretches his neck over the edge of the couch. After a snap and a few pops, a wave of tension rolls away from his shoulders. The still warm dumplings call to him. He flicks open the paperback and shoves one of the fluffy bundles of meat and barbecue in his mouth. Strangely the sound of the bag rustling didn’t send his brother or Pabu flying down from the loft. Mako slows his chewing to call through a mouthful, “Bolin? You here, bro?”

No answer or sound except traffic outside.

“Huh.” He swallows and reaches for another one, but the briny smell of Yue Bay catches his attention. He twists to look out at Air Temple Island behind him then smirks. “Figures, I bet the little lovebird is making a house call.”

Mako pulls himself off the couch, leaves dinner behind, and walks over to the dock while thinking of a way to convince the White Lotus on guard to radio over to the island.

[velthequeen]

Bubblegum Bella (Addy x Antonio)

An imagine that entails how Addy Bishop and Antonio Dawson met and became partners in Intelligence.

The transitional period between spring and summer in Chicago was somewhat enjoyable. It was still kind of cold out, but not dress in a parka-type cold. Crime didn’t stop, but neither did the hard working officers of the Chicago Police Department.

Antonio Dawson had sent his kids off to school before driving to work. Being in Intelligence had its ups and downs. Each case was grueling, but getting justice for the victim(s) and the city was always rewarding at the end. He just wished it didn’t have to interfere with his family life. Him and Laura’s separation was still rocky, and his kids are more important to him than breathing. Pile that with the crime of the Chicago and trying to downplay it all, and it created one frustrated Antonio. He could’ve sworn he saw a couple grays when he got ready this morning. The Dominican man just needed a release. Something to relieve his stress.

That’s how he found himself in Molly’s after work one night. It was late as hell, and he knew his kids were dead asleep at this hour. It was so late even he was getting droopy eyed. He sensed a body sit down next to him, and a small sigh came from the mouth of it. “What he’s having.” A woman’s voice said. The light fragrance of honey and gardenia filled the detective’s nostrils. It was a breath of fresh air compared to the stench of everyone in the bar. He turned to see a pretty blonde with the same droopy yes he had. Seems like she had a pretty long day, too.

“You sure you can handle it? It’s pretty strong.” Antonio remarked without looking at her. His drink has indeed been strong, one that wouldn’t put him over the limit but enough to make him feel a bit less stressed. The woman looked at him as she took the cup in her hand and downed it without so much as a wince. Antonio looked up and down, am impressed expression on his face. “Damn.” He said, causing her to laugh lightly.

“You come to Molly’s often? I haven’t seen you around before.” He interrogated. The woman smiled at him before shaking her head. She dampened her pink pout with her tongue before pulling a small lollipop out of her pocket. It had a pink and white rapper that had a candy brand’s name scrawled in cutesy letters. The word “BUBBLEGUM” was written under the name. She unwrapped the sugar stick before placing it comfortably in the corner of her mouth.

“I just moved from Boston. Molly’s is five minutes from my place.” She told him. Antonio nodded, downing the rest of his drink. She seemed to be in the same predicament he was. Tired and in need of a friendly face. Maybe they could be each other’s support system for the night. The blonde swirled the lollipop in her mouth as they sat in comfortable silence, trying to drown out the other patrons of the bar.

“Those things will rot your teeth, bella.” He laughed, complimenting her in Spanish before ordering them both another drink. She knew enough of the language to realize that he just called her beautiful. Her grin drew him in. She was just too good at the charm factor.

“I like things sweet.”

x

Antonio couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was now the next day and he was sitting at his desk waiting for Voight to present a new case. They had spent the entire night together, to the point where he was in his third cup of coffee in the last hour and a half. Her words and face burned in his brain like some sort of wildfire. He had been bouncing his leg so much that his team was starting to take notice.

“No more coffee.” Erin said as she took his cup from him. When he began to sigh, she shot him a glare which caused him to sink back in his seat and suck air through his teeth. Erin walked away, causing Antonio’s thoughts to race once more. He was no lightweight and could remember everything that happened the night before. He was weak for a woman he didn’t even know the name of. It was honestly humiliating if you really thought about it. After two drinks and a night together and he was itching to find her again, yet he had no idea where to look. Quite mind boggling when one realizes that he’s a detective and finds things out for a living.

The worst of it all was that he could still feel her. Her fingertips against his skin felt like fire and ice. She was like a drug. Her being was intoxicating. They didn’t have sex by any means, but they almost shared a kiss. Almost. Antonio has of course initiated it, but the blonde got a sly look in her eyes and moved away. He would never force himself on to anyone, but he found himself nearly groveling at her feet.

“Not yet.” She spoke as she separated them with a turn of her head. Before that, they had been mere centimeters apart, and now she was staring at the pavement. They were outside now, standing next to the railing on the harbor. A couple of people were outside enjoying the nighttime of Chicago. A soft yet chilly breeze flew around, one that was common yet uncomfortable, even with a jacket on. Antonio used his fingers to gently guide her chin so that they would looking at each other again.

“One kiss, bella. That’s all I’m asking.” Again, he would never pressure her into doing anything she didn’t want to do. But he knew they both felt a bonding pull towards each other. It wasn’t love at first sight by any means, but he still wasn’t sure if it was repressed lust or liquid confidence.

“Believe me, I really want to. But not yet.” She repeated her words, putting a halting palm on his chest as he moved closer. His hands rested respectful on her sides as his lips got closer to her ear. “You smell like candy.” He whispered with a lazy laugh. This was the liquid confidence. She laughed with him, welcoming him brushing near her. He so badly wanted just one kiss, but he didn’t do it. She already said not to, and he felt as though he physically couldn’t disobey what she had put down. Did she have this affect on everybody?

“Here. To take the edge off.” She soothes calmly as she pulled another perfectly wrapped lollipop from her pocket. He reluctantly took it, and the sweet taste did end up distracting him from what just occurred.

Antonio was pulled out of his reverie when he heard Voight’s office door open. He fiddled with the bubblegum candy wrapper in his pocket as his eyes were lifted to a beautiful sight. No, it wasn’t Voigh, although the man was beautiful in his own way. It was her. His one night coming of age romance. She was here, in his precinct, in his unit’s loft. Was fate real? It must’ve been.

“Everyone, we have a new addition to the unit. She comes from Homicide in Boston, same as Sia. Her name is Addy-“ Hank rambled in the beginning before Antonio looked at her more fully. The night before she was dressed in a nice black coat and dark purple top. She looked casual. Today she looked like she went through Erin’s closet and assembled a look fit for an Intelligence detective. One thing that she said the night before stuck to him. She never told him her full name but she said something that resonated with him. Something about chess.

“I never actually learned how to play.” Antonio confided in her as they sat in the back of a quiet indie café. It was one of those popular downtown hipster areas in Chicago where they served you vegan food and had piercings in. She had set up the chess table for them, and seemed pretty interested in the idea of playing before the next few words came from her pretty lips.

“Neither did I.” She confessed. He looked up with a questioning glare before they both burst out laughing. Once they got shushed by other patrons trying to read books, the blonde bit her lip and Antonio stifled his laugh. “You seem to know what you’re doing, bella.” He could’ve sworn he saw a light blush creep to her cheeks before she turned away.

“My grandmother always wanted me and my sister to learn how to play. We would find ways to cheat the game so she’d think we knew what we were doing.” She set up the remainder of the pieces before entwining her fingers in his. She picked up three of the pieces and set them out for both of them to see.

“You wanna know the most complicated way to win? You need your king,” She told him, holding up the kong’s piece before putting him in his rightful place. “The knight,” She repeated her actions with the knight. “And my personal favorite, the bishop.”

“Bishop.” Antonio whispered quietly to himself as he watched Voight say it out loud. Addy’s smile illuminated the room, and her old friend Sia was the first to return it. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you all.” The way her lips moved was so mesmerizing to witness. As she turned to Antonio before sitting at her new desk near Sia’s, she shot him a secretive wink. She remembered. All of it.

While Hank was explaining the new case that they had, Antonio couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She knew he was staring; she could feel it. But Adelina just kept twirling her wavy blonde locks in between her fingers, attentively giving her eyes to Hank as he detailed their case. When he was finished with the background, he assigned everyone to their respective tasks.

“Lindsay, you and Halstead go through security of the last know address. Olinsky, take Ruzek to take out the house. Bishop, go with Dawson to sniff around the construction site. See if CSI missed anything. Blaisie, you’re with me.” The sergeant said before going back into his office. Addy was still sitting at her desk, innocently sucking on a bubblegum lollipop. Same as last night. Antonio has to restrain his chuckle.

“Those things will rot your teeth, bella.” He said after he made his way to the front of her desk. His cost was already on, and he was waiting patiently for her. That sly look in her eye came back.

“I like things sweet.” She responded, putting on her coat as he led her out of the Intelligence a Unit. Maybe fate was real after all, considering the circumstances.

[shinywolfgardener]

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You might be wanting to sell your home or purchase another home. In any case, you're most likely searching for an extraordinary realtor.

Real estate professional, Real Estate Agent - is there a distinction?

There are Realtors® and there are realtors. These are not interchangeable terms. A realtor is authorized to "speak to a purchaser or a merchant in a land exchange in return for commission."Real home specialists commonly work for a land dealer or Realtor.

Makelaar

A Realtor additionally is authorized and may sell land as either a specialist or an intermediary. There are totally moral realtors and Realtor®. The essential contrast is that a Realtor has made an extra pledge to respect the 17-article code and calling of the land business.

The inquiry and a few inquiries

Searching for an incredible realtor implies that you will pose inquiries, so how about we begin constructing your rundown of inquiries:

Referrals: ask your companions, partners, and family members for referrals. The vast majority who have had a positive encounter working with a specialist will readily depict their experience and why they feel their operator was uncommon.

Referrals from experts: it is surely proper to approach realtors for referrals. Budgetary organization delegates, particularly contract merchants, are probably going to know about uncommon operators.

Open houses: going to open houses is an extraordinary, non-undermining approach to meet bequest specialists. Focus on the operator's habits and appearance, his/her polished skill, and the nature of limited time material gave at the open house. Does the specialist appear to be proficient about the property and the nearby market? Is the specialist prepared to call attention to the home's highlights, or does he fundamentally overlook guests?

At the point when you have a for the most part great impression of an operator, make certain to gather a business card and mention notes of your objective facts.

References: plan to meet a few operators before settling on a choice and consenting to a purchaser's arrangement. During the meeting, solicit every contender to give referrals from late customers and call those referrals.

Among the inquiries to pose are what were the soliciting and selling costs from their properties, and to what extent the house was available?

Makelaar

Set aside some effort to look into the bequest leading group of permitting administrations to affirm that the competitor is at present authorized and whether any protests or disciplinary activities have been documented against the specialist.

Experience: to what extent has the specialist been doing business? You ought to be searching for the operator who altogether knows the neighborhood showcase wherein you are selling or intending to purchase your home. It requires some investment to assemble aptitude and market information. One specialist suggests that any suitable up-and-comer ought to have in any event five years' understanding.

Is the operator full-or low maintenance? You ought to expect, and request, a full time specialist.

Subsequent stages

While assessing the capabilities of bequest specialists, take a gander at their sites and current postings. Your future operator ought to be web and innovation keen, utilizing every current medium to assist you with finding your ideal home or sell your present one. The specialist ought to likewise have the option to convey dependably and consistently utilizing the form(s) of get in touch with you like - fax, telephone, text, or email.

In a perfect world, your forthcoming specialist is occupied yet not very occupied to adequately speak to you. On the off chance that you feel that the up-and-comer isn't focused on giving your deal or buy full and energetic help, or is set up to hand you over to a "collaborator", proceed onward.

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[something-tofightfor]

Christmas in Wyoming - Epilogue

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word count:8550 (Yikes)

Rating: M (language... lil bit of zest)

Author’s Note: This took a week to get out, but I needed some time. It’s long...but it ties lots of things up. This is the end for Hallmark Logan... or is it?

Thank you all for reading, and for loving this Logan. Thanks for indulging me As always, I truly appreciate every single one of you. 

Taglist: feel free to ask me to remove you… or to add you!

@banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @madamrogers @suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @drinix @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @shinebrightlikeafanbase @littlemermaidprobz @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz @dylanobrusso @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @dreamwritesimagines @waytoobsessedwithmyfandoms @lexxierave @ms-delos @elanor-of-imladris @lynne1993 @dreams-with-thoughts @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mfackenthal  @traeumerinwitzhelden @bucky-is-my-precious @weallhaveadestiny @ladyblablabla @sweetybuzz25 @luminex3 @christinawxxx @thesumofmychoices @audreychaz @tc-elliot @kind-wolf @gollyderek @honeyydippaa @thesandbeneathmytoes @malik-payne @geeksareunique @bellastellaluna @agentlingerie @elioelioeli0 @wangmangagavroche @projectcampbell 

“I can’t believe how right you were.” Logan groaned as he spoke, lips next to your ear. “These loft beds are somethin’ else.”  Turning your head toward him you nodded before you kissed him tenderly, hand moving to the side of his face so that you could twist the hair behind his ear around your finger. And you didn’t take me up on it when you were here in December. “You nervous about tomorrow?” He pulled away from you, bracing himself on his elbow, running the fingers of his free hand gently down the skin of your neck and toward your shoulder, squeezing the sweat-slicked skin. “Everything… it’ll be real then.” It will. 

“Yeah, Logan.” You closed your eyes, shifting beneath him and letting your hand fall away from his face onto the bed, your fingers disappearing into the tangled sheets. “It will.” It was the middle of July, the weather as far away from the way that it had been the first time Logan had visited as it could have possibly been - but he was back. “I’m not the one that has to be nervous, though. We’ve already done the hard part, it’s you…”

 “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, sitting up and shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ve gotta explain, don’t I?” You sat up too, unbothered that you were naked from the waist up, skin exposed to Logan in the moonlight that was streaming in through the windows. “It hasn’t even been a year, am I the best person for this?” He turned the upper half of his body toward you and you could feel how tense he was, see the anxiety written on his face. Oh, Logan. “Rehab never worked for me, why -”

 “Logan.” You shifted on the bed, kneeling in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders, staring into his eyes. “You haven’t used, right?” He shook his head no. “You haven’t wanted to, either?” Another shake of his head, but he paused while opening his mouth. “The closest you’ve come was Juliet and Willam announcing that they’re pregnant, right?” He nodded a third time, eyes focused on you. “Then it is working, Logan. A traditional facility wasn’t the right place for you. A celebrity rehab wasn’t what you needed.” You took a breath. “I can’t pretend to know what you went through or exactly what you’re going through, but this, Logan?” You dropped a hand, fingertips resting on the inside of his right elbow - atop the perfect, unblemished skin. “This?” You squeezed his arm, moving your hand up to his thick bicep. “These?” Your other hand dropped to his abdomen pushing firmly against the defined muscle. “It’s progress. It hasn’t been a year yet, and you’ve gained what, twenty pounds? You look incredible, and the fact that it’s happening is more than enough.” You licked your lips, shaking your head back and forth. “This...it’s not going to work for everyone, but the fact that you recognize that it might have worked for you if it had been available is …” A slew of words ran through your head. Enough. Helpful, Necessary. Encouraging. “... it’s a start, Logan. There’s always room for improvement, but you have to start somewhere.” 

 He was silent, watching you, and you stared back at him, unafraid to look in the way that you had been in December, or even in April, when you’d visited Los Angeles, you and Logan taking a long weekend to go up to Isabella Lake and visit the inspiration for the new Fireside, a rehab retreat this one of Logan’s closest friends - and biggest supporters, Lincoln - had opened two years previously. You looked at him freely now, because he told you that he needed you to, that he didn’t want things to change between you just because he technically - although not yet completely officially on paper - owned the resort. You weren’t his girlfriend; Logan had told you that he wanted to wait until he’d been sober for at least a year before he even thought about having a serious relationship, but he reminded you at every opportunity that he was different now - that things were different when it came to how he viewed himself - and your place in his life. “Why do you believe in me?” He spoke quietly again, a tremble in his voice. “This is what I want to do, this is what I want, but why do you … you don’t know me, you know what you’ve seen for a few days or weeks at a time, you’ve never…” 

 “Logan…” You settled back onto your calves, putting your hands flat on the tops of your thighs. “You saved this place, and gave us an option when we had nothing.” You didn’t have to. “You could have come out here, told my aunt and uncle that you wanted to buy us out, not even giving a shit about what I thought, and then done whatever to it.” You pushed off of the mattress, walking over to the window - not even caring that you were completely nude. “But you didn’t. You worked with them - with me - and you had a plan. You always had a plan, and we were always included.” Turning back to face him, you held your hands up. “I believe in you, Logan, because those aren’t the actions of someone that’s on the edge of losing it. Those aren’t … you’re trying to do what’s right, and for you, that means helping people, because you can.” Silent, you waited for his response, but it didn’t come as you expected. 

 Logan stood, bending over and pulling on his shorts. “Get dressed.” You frowned but did as he asked, pulling on the dress that you’d been wearing when he’d showed up at your door in a rental car three hours earlier, pushing you back against the exposed beam of your front porch and kissing you like he had the day you’d left California - like he’d been waiting for it for months, just like you were. You climbed down the ladder before Logan, standing in the living room and waiting. “Shoes.” you put on your flats, Logan slipping his feet into a pair of Adidas running shoes and then taking your hand, pulling you out the front door of his cabin and into the rapidly cooling night. Though the temperature in Jackson Hole was warm during the day, it wasn’t uncommon for it to be downright chilly in the nighttime hours - something you were used to, but you figured that Logan was not. He strode purposefully back and toward the lodge, hand still tightly wrapped around yours. “It looks good.” 

 He stopped a few paces before  the construction fence, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath. You leaned into Logan’s side, nodding. By the middle of March, there was a construction team that had arrived on site, blocking off the front half of the RV park, the bare bones of a large intake and treatment facility going up in a little under a month. Things had progressed quickly from there, and though you’d had to speak with previously booked RV guests, offering them refunds and explaining to them that there were some renovations happening - but that they could still park their vehicles in the back part of the lot, that one of the access roads was still usable, you were still operating Fireside as close to normally as possible with one huge difference: Elle and Brandon were gone. 

 The initial deal with Logan sold 49% of your resort to his company Kynthos - a subsidiary of Delos, allowing him to make changes as long as they were approved by you. With 51% ownership, you were the majority owner of Fireside, as had been transferred to you by your aunt and uncle in the middle of January. Logan hadn’t been able to come out in February to sign the contracts in person to purchase his portion, instead sending a representative to handle the situation. You’d been disappointed, because you wanted to see him - but had understood that he was busy with Delos and couldn’t simply leave just to watch you put a few signatures on some documents and maybe spend a night or two with you. But he wasn’t keeping you in the dark - Logan’s lawyers worked with you every step of the way, outlining the transfer from Brandon and Elle to you, ensuring that the purchase price of Logan’s initial portion went straight to them, allowing them to leave and start living their retirement dream: building a house on an empty plot of land on South Padre Island in Texas. 

 You’d been shocked at the valuation of the property, even moreso when it had been explained to you that when Logan purchased the remaining 51% of the property and everything was finalized - which was what the announcement the following day was -  you’d be receiving much more than Brandon and Elle had, even though the percentages were so close. Essentially, you’d gone from having what you needed to get by to having more than you knew what to do with, and for the first time in your life, you had options. “Yeah, Logan. They’ve done a good job.” 

 “All people see are my failures.” His hand tightened on your hip, pulling you closer. “And when I make this announcement tomorrow, they’re going to see me - someone that has been in and out of so many facilities that it’s…” He shook his head. “I need to make them understand. No one should feel like I did, like there’s nothing out there for them, or there’s no hope.” He pointed at the mostly finished building. “Lincoln’s place in California is successful. He’s helped so many people, and he’s kept me… from making a lot of bad choices even worse. I want that here. I want this place to do for them what nowhere did for me.” I get it, Logan. 

 “Then show, them, Logan. Show them you’re serious, that things can change. Show them that you…” He looked down, eyes locking on yours. Show them that you’re capable of this, because you don’t need to show me - I already see it. “Prove it, Logan Delos.” His chest rose and fell rapidly, the bright light of the moon reflecting in his eyes and he nodded, mouth set in a straight line. “You gotta prove it.” 

 --- 

 The following afternoon, you were finishing getting ready in the room that you’d always stayed in, putting your lipstick on in the mirror when David knocked on the door frame, poking his head in. “They’re starting to arrive. Lincoln and Mr. Delos’ lawyer are here too, and so are Brandon and Elle.” You hadn’t seen your aunt and uncle in a few months, but them coming back was a show of solidarity to you and to Logan, as well as to the community, proving that they were behind the idea, that they were in support of changing Fireside’s purpose for the better. You nodded at David - the only employee that you’d worked into the contract, giving him the right to stay on even after you no longer owned the resort, which was something that Logan (and Lincoln) had been more than happy to accommodate. This would stay true as long as David was willing to submit to regular drug testing to maintain standards, and he’d been more than willing to agree. Finally ready,  you stepped away from the mirror, making sure that your dress was straight and your hair looked presentable. Here we go. 

 By the time you walked into the main lobby of the lodge - the room where Logan had played the piano for you on Christmas - there was a small group of people gathered. Hugging your aunt and uncle tightly, you began to ask them how they were, but Elle gestured with her hand toward the back windows, shaking her head. “Not now, he needs you.” Logan was staring out the window at the construction site, his hands in his pockets. He looked put together - dressed in a three piece suit in a deep black, the collar of a red shirt poking out against his pale neck, and without pause, you stepped next to him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist. 

 “Logan?” He turned to look at you with worry on his face, but that didn’t stop him from assessing you from head to toe, gaze softening as he did so. “You alright?”

 “You look beautiful.” He smiled at you, some of the distance clearing from his eyes. “I know we said that you’d sit during my speech, but…” He licked his lips, a hand going up to the back of his neck. “Will you… stand with me?” Is that a good idea? Thinking through your answer, you realized that you didn’t care what people thought  - that it made sense for you to stand with Logan, no matter what your status with him was - or wasn’t. 

 “Of course, Logan.” You swallowed, moving closer to him. “If you need me, I -” He swiftly turned, his hands cupping both sides of your face as he leaned in, kissing you in full view of ten people -  a surprise, since only Lincoln, Brandon and Elle had ever seen it happen before. You whispered his name as he pulled away, resolve on his face. The room had quieted down, but as you looked around, no one seemed surprised at the development, Elle grinning widely. Hmm. Logan also seemed unconcerned, turning back to the window and reciting his speech under his breath, hand gripping yours tightly.. 

 --- 

 Twenty minutes later, a crowd had assembled in the designated area, taking seats in the shade from the trees behind the lodge. They were joined by Brandon, Elle, your employees and the lawyer, leaving you alone with Logan and Lincoln. Three news crews? You shook your head, eyes moving over the parked cars and you fought to keep your breathing steady. If it wasn’t Delos, it wouldn’t be a big deal. “You ready?” Lincoln stepped forward, putting a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “You’ve got this, Log. Just a few minutes - just the basics. Then I’ll take over. I’m going to go tell them you’ll be out in a few, alright?” He smiled kindly at you, nodded at Logan and then walked out of the room. 

 You watched Logan take a deep breath, standing up straight, and when he looked back at you, raising an eyebrow to ask if you were ready to go, you stepped forward, reaching out to squeeze his hand again. “You can do this, Logan. I’m right here.” 

 “You are, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question, and Logan regarded you carefully before he dropped your hand, stepping toward the door. Yeah. I … am. You followed him out the door and down the short hallway toward the back exit, stepping out into the sunlight and walking toward the gathered group of people and the podium that had been set up, Logan’s company logo beneath your own on the front. Weird. The murmurs grew louder as you got closer to the front, but you ignored them, focusing on breathing. This is it. Giving up the future that I thought… When you reached the front of the seating area, you looked at Logan and he nodded at you, blinking twice before he dropped into one of the empty chairs. 

 Taking your place in front of the assembled crowd, you took a deep breath. You didn’t know a lot of the people in front of you, but you saw familiar faces sprinkled throughout - people from town, your employees, Ana and Gina… even Emma and her parents were there, near the front and looking decidedly unhappy. Good. Emma’s gaze moved to Logan and you felt a strange calm moving through your body as you looked down and then back out, over the crowd. “Hi.” Your amplified voice carried and though your heart was pounding, your eyes slid over to Logan, finding him watching you with a look of pride on his face. You can do this. “As many of you know, over the last few months, we’ve undergone some changes to improve the Fireside property.” You turned, pointing to the construction before looking back at those in front of you. “This is just the beginning, but it’s all due to the involvement of someone that came to us during a time when we truly needed him.” You looked back at Logan, seeing that he was smiling, teeth just visible behind his lips and his brown eyes bright - and focused entirely on you. 

 “Many of you also  know that I took over ownership of Fireside earlier this year, and my aunt and uncle were able to begin their retirement in Texas sooner than planned.” You felt your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “With their encouragement, I agreed to a deal with this… with Mr. Logan Delos, and one of his Delos Inc. subsidiaries, allowing the company to purchase just under half of Fireside.” The crowd reacted immediately, people’s eyes going wide and their jaws dropping before they started speaking quietly. “To make a long story short, they began to fund improvements and remodels of some of our buildings, and today, I’m announcing that effective at 5 pm, Fireside will belong fully to Kynthos - and specifically to Logan Delos.” The voices got louder, but you held up a hand, shaking your head. “But that’s not all.” You looked back at Logan, nodding and holding your hand out. “I’ve gotten the opportunity to know Logan over the last seven months, and there’s a lot more to him than most people think - and it’s time all of you learn that, too.” He stood, walking toward you, jaw working as he listened to you speak. Every word is the truth. “Logan’s got a lot to offer, and it’s about more than just a name, more than just financial support.” He took your hand, shaking it with an extra gentle squeeze at the end of the action and then dropped it, standing beside you. “Brandon and Elle believed in this place, and they believed in me, and I believe in Logan Delos and his vision for Fireside.” 

 You felt him stiffen next to you for a moment, but you stepped away, running your thumb down the back of his hand as you moved. “Hello.” Logan cleared his throat, looking out at the people watching him intently. “I found this resort at a difficult time in my life.” He took a deep breath. “Most of you know my history, and might not believe me when I tell you that my sobriety is one thing i’m taking very seriously - and I have been for the last few years, despite some setbacks.” Logan glanced over his shoulder at you, but continued. “Many of you don’t know that I relapsed last year, and checked into a rehabilitation facility… but I found that the environment, the other patients there were actually impeding my recovery chances.” He shook his head. “I failed.” Logan flattened his hand against the podium, long fingers spread out. “I failed, and left the treatment, but I didn’t go back to my old habits, even though I felt totally alone, and there were times I wanted to.” The crowd was silent, watching and listening to Logan raptly. “And during the time that I was trying to get better on my own, trying to overcome this addiction without the help of those who should have been closest to me, I made the decision to do something about it, and began my search.” Here it is, Logan, you’re almost done. 

 “I found Fireside and booked a stay here over Christmas of last year - unlike you were led to believe,” he barked the words, looking over at Emma and her parents before continuing. “I needed to get away, and this place was perfect. I saw the potential before I came, but it wasn’t until I got here that I experienced it.” Logan looked over at Brandon and Elle, pausing before speaking. “ Kynthos isn’t only purchasing Fireside, I intend to work with someone that is very close to me - someone that’s already found success with creating and  operating a similar facility in California - to turn Fireside into the kind of place that can truly change a life for those that are dedicated.” Logan turned toward you, holding his hand out and you took it, stepping forward as his fingers linked with yours behind the platform. “Within the next twelve months - barring any setbacks or opposition from the people of Jackson Hole and Wilson, Fireside will transition from a vacation lodge and resort to an inpatient recovery center, dedicated to meeting the needs of and providing necessary support to people like me - and so many others.” Logan squeezed your hand tightly, and you felt his heartbeat through his palm. 

 “I believe in Logan.” You spoke again, repeating your previous words without thinking them through. “As soon as the sale is complete, Kynthos will release more information so that we can continue the renovations and move closer to opening.” You smiled, taking a deep breath and loosening your hold on Logan’s hand, but not letting go. Time to drop the bomb. “While we transition the property, we will remain open as a resort, and the current staff will stay in place, myself included.” You shrugged, grinning. “The plan is for us to stop taking reservations in March of next year, giving Lincoln time to get everything in place for the opening for the facility - at which time, I’ll completely be stepping away from Fireside, too.” You heard Logan’s small gasp but there was no other reaction, aside from his grip tightening on your hand again. “Thank you all for coming.” You nodded once, urging Logan forward. 

 “Yeah, thank you for your attention.” He cleared his throat, pulling his hand from yours and gesturing to Lincoln, who stood up, a grin on his face. “I’m just the backing for this project, I’d like to introduce you to the man that’s going to make it happen - Lincoln James.” You stepped away as the second man made his way to Logan’s side, shaking his hand and stepping behind the podium as you and Logan walked back to the empty seats, neither of you speaking. Once you were seated, your aunt reached over, taking your hand and squeezing as Lincoln started his speech, deep voice turning the attention of most of the audience from you and Logan back to him. “We’re gonna need to talk.” Logan leaned over, speaking softly into your ear. “Somethin’ important you need to tell me.” Yeah, Logan. There is. 

---

 You’d eaten a late lunch in the lodge with Brandon and Elle, Logan and Lincoln joining you, but the topic of you leaving Fireside hadn’t come up at all. You could tell that your uncle wanted to ask, but every time the conversation moved in that direction, your aunt had changed the subject - interjecting and asking Lincoln a question, talking about a different aspect of their house build. Logan had flown in on the jet with Lincoln, and when the man excused himself, saying that he needed to get back to the airfield as soon as possible to get back to Lake Isabella, your heart dropped. He’s leaving already. Despite the lack of commitment and the absence of a label for you and Logan, you knew that less than 24 hours wasn’t enough, that you didn’t want him to leave. Standing, you moved to gather the dirty dishes so that they could be carried into the kitchen, but Logan grabbed your wrist, pushing to his feet as well. “Let me help you.” 

 You didn’t speak, but you nodded at him, not meeting his eyes. He stacked the cups and flatware in a way that you never would have expected from someone that hadn’t ever even come close to needing to bus a table, following you into the kitchen. Working quickly, you separated the trash from the dishes, loading the dishwasher in almost complete silence. What do I say to him? The announcement had been made, the sale was final - and Logan no longer needed to be on-site, at least until the facility was completed and the next steps began. Why did I think he’d stay? Finally done, you turned around to look at Logan, not expecting the look of unease on his face that you found as he leaned back against the counter, the buttons on his jacket undone and his hands gripping the edge tightly. “Logan?” 

 “I’m not going back with Lincoln.” Logan licked his lips, shaking his head. “I planned on staying - here or with you, whatever you wanted… but I’m not…” With me? Now that people know, they’ll be looking, they… “Look,” he sighed heavily. “People aren’t stupid.” What? “We were holding hands at the podium for most of today, and I kissed you in front of your entire staff… it’s clear that something’s going on.” 

 “Logan, we don’t need to -” You stepped closer to him, tilting your head back to look at the ceiling. “We both know what this is, right? I don’t expect…”

 “I’m not having this conversation with you in a kitchen.” He pushed away from the counter, one hand running through his hair. “Point is, if you want me to stay, I’m… I cleared my schedule for a couple days, to be here with you, so I have the time.” You did? For me? “Do you?” He’s not asking if I’m working, he’s asking if I have time for him. “But I can always fly back with Lincoln, that’s -”

 “No.” Clearing your throat, you continued. “No, Logan, please stay.” He’d always been honest with you, and you wanted to give him the same courtesy. “I want you to stay.” Logan’s body deflated, and you realized that a large part of him thought that you would tell him to leave. Why? After last night? After… “Staying here will be more private since we have no guests right now, Logan.” 

 “I… I’d prefer to be in your house.” Eyes going wide, you nodded. “I’ll get my stuff, and then I can follow you there if you want?” When you nodded, Logan moved toward you, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “Alright.” Without another word, Logan turned and exited the kitchen, leaving you standing in front of the sink - completely confused. 

 --- 

 At your house, Logan parked in the garage while you left your car in the driveway, meeting him in the living room. He placed his bag onto the floor behind the couch, walking over to the back window and looking out at your yard, hands behind his back. “Logan?” He didn’t acknowledge you right away, even though you made your way to stand beside him. “Your speech today was great.” Closing your eyes, you thought for a moment before continuing. “You didn’t try to sugarcoat anything, and everyone here will appreciate that, it means a lot that you’re so honest with -”

 “Why are you leaving?” He looked down at you, head turned to face you though the rest of his body didn’t move. “This place is your home, you shouldn’t have to leave it just because we’re changing it.” Here we go. You hung your head, staring at your feet before you spoke again, certainty in your words. 

 “Logan, it… it was my home because Brandon and Elle were here.” You looked up, eyes on the glass. “When they left, it changed. I love Wyoming, I love Fireside, I love doing what I’m doing, but … it won’t be like that once you open the recovery center. I’d still be taking care of the same kinds of things I’m doing now, but it won’t be the same.” You frowned, unable to look at Logan. “The people that will be here need people that are totally equipped to help them, and that’s not me.” 

 “But you’re good at your job.” He turned his body, hands down at his sides. “I thought you wanted to stay, to make sure that we’re going to -”

 “Logan, I trust you. I trust Lincoln. I don’t need to be here to micromanage, I can…” You shook your head. “Believe me, Logan, I’ve thought about this a lot in the last few months, ever since I got back from California, and it’s the best decision. I love this place, but without this - without total control over the resort, without the responsibility of …” You’re making no sense. “I want to go somewhere, Logan, where what I do makes a difference when it comes to whether or not something’s successful.” Finally looking at him, you stared into his eyes, pleading with him to understand. This isn’t easy. “There’s no better hands to leave Fireside in. You guys are capable, and I don’t need to stay here and…”

 “Where will you go?” You saw his hand close into a loose fist, watched him clench his jaw again. “If you aren’t going to stay here, but you want to keep working, where are you going to go?” 

 “I don’t know, Logan. I guess… I’ll just look for openings, and go wherever I find something.” I don’t know.. “I have time to look, I’m going to wait until you open the place before I put the house up for sale, and…” His eyes widened. “There’s nothing here for me, Logan, or, well, there won’t be.” You shook your head. “Not after this all goes through.” Finally deciding that you didn’t want to stand next to Logan without touching him any longer, you reached out, fingers tentatively making contact with his. “I wanted to tell you, Logan, but I didn’t think that it was right to do it over the phone.” He looked down at your joined hands and you watched as his brow furrowed. 

 “So you could… end up on the east coast.” He raised his gaze and you were surprised to see sadness in his eyes. “You could end up in Florida, or in Canada, or in... “ Logan trailed off. “What about California?” Sucking in a breath, your fingers involuntarily tightened against his.  “What about the west coast?” 

 “I… Logan, I haven’t... “ You shook your head back and forth. “I haven’t even looked yet, it’s just an idea, there’s… it’s going to be at least ten months, but I mean, that’s possible, too.” You shrugged. “There are jobs out here, even. Who knows where I’ll end up.” Logan bit his lower lip, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, but I wanted to be sure, and now everyone knows, now it won’t be a shock, now…”

 “You said earlier that we both knew what this was.” He was looking back out the window, eyes focused on the treeline. “But I don’t.” Glancing up, you saw him shaking his head back and forth, lower lip sucked back into his mouth. “I don’t know what this is at all.” What? “When I came out here last December, I never thought…” Logan sighed. “Can we… do you have anything to drink?” Of course. You nodded, pulling your hand away from Logan and turning to walk into the kitchen. 

 You quickly made two drinks, ice cubes and whiskey and a splash of ginger ale, carrying them back over to the couch, where Logan had settled. You sat too, sipping from your glass before setting it down on the table and clasping your hands together. “Logan, you have…” You closed your eyes, willing yourself to continue. “You have your life in Los Angeles, you have your companies, and you have… the things you need.” It sounded foolish coming out of your mouth, but you continued. “I’m forever grateful to you for what you’re doing for this place, what you’ve enabled us to do for the time leading up to today.” He took a drink of his own, lips closing around the rim of the glass as he looked straight ahead. “But you don’t owe me an explanation, Logan. You don’t have to sit here and tell me what you think I want to hear, or tell me that you want to be sober for a solid year before you think about -”

 “It’s not for me.” He finally spoke, head moving back and forth, fingers tightening around the base of his glass. “I need to prove to you that I can do it.” To me? “When I was using, it was always because I wanted to feel something that wasn’t pain, that wasn’t … shame, that wasn’t disappointment. And even though it didn’t work - yeah, I’d feel good for a few minutes, and then just be numb for hours, it took me gettin’ sober to realize that no matter how shitty it was, feeling anything real was better than that. Being in pain was better than that.” Oh, Logan. “When I landed here, I thought you were just gonna be another shitty part of my trip. I wanted to be here, but I didn’t want  to be here, right? Why should I have had to leave Los Angeles while they all get to stay? And I took it out on you. I was a dick...but you stood up for yourself, and you put me in my place.” 

 “Logan, I -” Though you remembered every second of your first interaction with him, you didn’t think that he would. “It -”

 “And then you were nice to me, you turned the seat on and let me sleep, and made sure I had what I needed.” He finally looked at you. “I had a dream about you that first night.” I didn’t know that. “I dreamed that you and I were walking on the beach, that we were joking together, that we were friends.” Logan paused. “And in that dream? I was myself. I was healthy and I was happy and all of the bullshit was behind me.” He shook his head. “I woke up and I saw myself in the mirror, and it wasn’t me, it wasn’t the guy from the dream. So how could I ever have that with someone? With you? And I could have fucked it all up by agreeing to go out with Emma, but I still did it, and then … “ He looked down, thumb still rubbing over the outside of his glass. “But I didn’t ruin it. Somehow..” He looked back at you and you saw that his eyes were glistening, his expression uncertain. “No one’s ever done anything like that mountain for me, no one’s ever wanted to show me something like that for the reasons you did.” Logan leaned forward, setting his glass down next to yours. “You weren’t tryin’ to impress me. But everything happened so fast - Christmas and New Year’s, and I didn’t know what to think.”

 “It did, Logan.” You’d spent the night in Logan’s cabin with him on Christmas Eve, staying the following night, too, and he’d come to your house during the week between Christmas and New Year’s, soaking the sheets of your bed with his scent night after night until you’d ended things how you started them - in the Caboose, wrapped in Logan’s arms the night before you drove him back to the Jackson Hole airport. “But -”

 “But I know what to think now.” He scooted closer to you, raising the hand that the glass had been in and touching your cheek, his cold fingertips moving slowly over the skin beneath them. “I knew when you came to California, I knew when we went to Lincoln’s, I knew when I felt absolutely fucking empty again when you left.” Your heart was pounding, eyes wide. “I showed up here with fresh track marks on my arm, treated you like shit, get pulled into a publicity stunt with your -” You moved, cutting him off with a kiss, your hand rising again to touch his hair, running your fingers through it until they were resting at the nape of his neck. “I don’t deserve you.” Logan whispered the words when you finally pulled back from him, the hand that had been on your face gripping your neck. “I didn’t then and I’m not sure I do now, but I fucking want you.” 

 You felt your entire body react, a shiver moving through you at the same time your heart stopped - the room totally silent. Your hand twitched, and you heard Logan  draw in a shuddering breath. “But it’s too -”

 “I’ve never made it a full year clean before. I was close, but...” He kissed you this time, lips pressing against yours for long moments, his other hand rising up to push your hair away from your face, fingers barely glancing over your skin. “If I can do a year, I can do anything. I wanted to prove that to myself before…” He took and then let out another breath. “Before I tried to prove to you that I wanted more.” 

 “Oh, Logan.” You closed your eyes, mind racing .He wants more? It’s not just because I’m here? It’s not because… but we can’t, he owns… “How? You’re there and I’m -”

 “That’s why I’m saying this now.” He licked his lips, “I thought you were… You were going to be here, and it meant that... “ Logan sat up, rolling his shoulders. “I could get on a plane and be here in two hours to see you, I could bring you out to Los Angeles for weekends. Hell, I’m the boss, who’s gonna say anything about it? I’d never try to take you away from this place, never ask you to leave, but now?” He watched you, teeth digging into his lip. “Now, I don’t know where you’ll be or what you’ll be doing.” He smiled, but you could see that it was a nervous one. “I won’t know who you meet, or… who you’re seeing.” Meet? Who I… see? What? 

 “What?” Your jaw dropped, head shaking back and forth. “Who I meet, Logan?” He closed his eyes and whispered the word ‘yeah’, a quiet chuckle falling from his lips. “Logan, I don’t…” You think I could meet someone after you? You’d tried desperately not to get your hopes up when it came to Logan, but the truth was that even though you’d wanted to kiss him well before it had actually happened, the moment his lips had met yours for the first time, you’d known that keeping things tamped down was an impossibility. This had escalated in your house the following morning, each subsequent encounter with Logan making your heart hammer louder in your chest. By the time you’d ended up in his cabin on Christmas Eve, your plans to remain as impartial as possible with him had been all but abandoned - and then he’d invited you to Los Angeles, treating you the same as he had in Wyoming, and you’d known it: you were falling for Logan Delos, even though you knew it was a bad idea. 

 “You’re gonna meet someone.” He smiled at you, and though it wasn’t a bright smile, it was an honest one. “You’re gonna go somewhere and meet someone, and it’s going to be right for you in ways that I’m not.” He shook his head. “In all the ways that I couldn’t ever be.” Logan sighed deeply. “But with you here, I knew that I still had a chance, I’d still get to see you, and now…” 

 “Now?” What is he saying? “Logan, I’m not going anywhere until next year, we have -” 

 “We have what, more time for me to realize that I want you in my life in a way that doesn’t involve signatures on paper because of Fireside? Already done that. More time for me to sit in Los Angeles and wonder what you’re doing, wonder if the text you sent to me was sent while you were on your way out somewhere? I do that, too. More time for you to look into my past and decide that you want nothing to do with me?” He shook his head, reaching over and picking up the glass again, draining his drink. “We have a lot of things, but the only thing I want is you.” He said it matter of factly, and you were stunned into silence, hand frozen as you reached out to him. 

 “What?” He’d said that he wanted you, that he cared, that he’d been counting on you being at Fireside in the future, but what exactly did it mean? “Logan, you can’t… we’re not …” We’re not what? The fact that there was no label on what you and Logan were wasn’t the issue - you’d never expected there to be one, especially knowing how he lived his life. Even sober, Logan got around - dated people, was seen with them, and then shortly after, would be seen with someone else. It was a cycle with him, and there had even been times between January and July when he’d been photographed with a woman in California. It hurt, seeing him with his arm around someone else’s waist, smiling at her at a gala, her perfectly rounded lips and smoky eyes mere inches from him. But that’s what you got yourself into when you got into bed with him. “You’ve got someone in Los Angeles, Logan. I’ve seen the pictures, I’ve seen …”

 “So.” He raised an eyebrow, leaning toward you. “So you’ve seen me with Elena.” Elena. You winced as he used her name. “What do you think of her, hmm?” You opened your mouth and then closed it, unsure of what to say. 

 “She’s… she’s pretty, Logan. She looks like she makes you happy.” It was your turn to chew on your lip, swallowing hard. “You two look good together.” Why are you saying this? 

 “She’s a Host.” He stared into your eyes as he spoke, no change in his tone. “We’ve got a few of ‘em that work at Delos in California… we aren’t supposed to, but who the fuck is going to know?” He licked his lips. “You can’t tell the difference, and that’s what they’re made to do, to be with us when we want them, to be the perfect imitation of us.” A Host? “It’s easier for me that way, especially since I can’t have… I just take her, and because she doesn’t have a history, no one can find it.” That’s brilliant. 

 “But why, Logan? You could have anyone, be with anyone, why a Host? Why …” Why bother? 

 “It’s better than going out alone.” He shifted closer, reaching out to take your hand in his, fingers slowly sliding between yours before curling around your palm. “I don’t have to pretend to be interested in… I’d rather you… I want to take you with me.” He was speaking quietly but clearly, eyes on your joined hands. “Even if you don’t want to be with me, I still…Fuck.” He ducked his head. “Do I need to say it again?” He looked back up, saying your name, a note of desperation in his voice. “I can do a year, I’m so close, I just… I don’t want to wait to tell you this until it’s too late.” He swore again, squeezing your hand even more tightly. “This time here with you didn’t mean nothing to me, it wasn’t just a distraction.” You squeezed your eyes shut for a few seconds before reopening them, staring at the man next to you, still in his suit and jacket. 

 “Logan.” What are you saying? “Logan, I... “ You reached out with your other hand, touching his knee. “I don’t want people to think that I’m… that I … that we… that you…” Unsure of how to say what you were thinking, you stopped, frowning. “I don’t care about you buying this place, Logan. I don’t care about who you are or what you do, I ... “ Go for it. You’ve got nothing to lose, except him. “I think about you constantly, Logan. I wonder what you’re doing and who you’re with and if you’re … if you miss me, or …” You shook your head. “I thought I’d get you out of my system at Christmas, that if we did what we did, it would make me feel better.” 

 “Did it?” He didn’t sound satisfied or cocky, just genuinely interested in your answer. 

 “No.” You exhaled. “It made me feel better, yeah, but not like I’d hoped.” His free hand was atop the one on your knee, thumb circling slowly on the back of your hand. “It made me want you even more, Logan, which I’m sure isn’t a surprise to you, but I didn’t want to be like everyone else, I didn’t want to…” He said your name again, stopping your rambling with a shake of his head. “What?” His eyebrow went up again, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth very briefly. “And then when I came to California, and it all happened again? When we stayed in your bed for two days after going to Lake Isabella?” You shook your head. “I was gone, Logan. All I thought about was you, and why it couldn’t work, why it shouldn’t work.” 

 “What if it does?” He leaned in, pressing his lips to your cheek. “What if it does work?” He kissed you again, lingering, mouth moving closer to yours. “I’m not your boss, I’m not... “ Hls lips touched yours, his breath warm. “What if you ended up in California with me after you left Wyoming?” What? “We’ve got lots of jobs out there, you’d find somethin’.” You were stunned, staring at Logan. “As much as I don’t want you to go anywhere else, you not bein’ here at Fireside anymore is… fuck, please say something.” Logan leaned back ,sitting up straight. “I’ve never had to be this honest with a woman before, and you’re not…” He trailed off as you stood, stepping away from the couch. I need a minute. 

 The sun was still bright in the sky - it wasn’t even 7pm, and as you looked out the window and into your back yard, you took a deep breath. He wants me. He’s asking me to come to California. Does he mean it? “I don’t want an empty promise, Logan.” You turned back toward him, crossing your arms over chest. “I… can’t do that. I’m not going to listen to the words you’re saying and just hope that I don’t get burned.” You stepped closer to him again, dropping down to sit on your coffee table. “Logan, you’re doing amazing with your recovery. I’ve told you this so many times, You’re right there, in the middle of all that temptation, and you’ve … you ignore it.” He nodded, eyes focused on yours. “You’ve never once lied to me. You’ve never misled me, aside from not telling me why you were really here at first.” Another nod, and you caught the change in expression, the subtle alteration of his breathing. “How many times have women and men told you that they love you, Logan?” 

 He swallowed, hanging his head for a moment before looking back at you. “A lot.” He scoffed.  “A whole lot.” You’d be been careful to never even hint at those words, never even uttering anything close to ‘I love it when you…’ or ‘I love that…’ because you couldn’t risk it. “But they don’t mean it.” 

 “I can’t give you that, Logan. I can’t… be with you like that unless… I tried so hard to...” You felt the tears begin to stream down your face. “I found out that we were going to lose the resort and that someone wanted to buy it in the same weekend, I met you and learned that you could give this place a future in the same week, You opened up to me in only a few days for no other reason than the fact that I was here and you had no other option…” He opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him with two fingers pressed to his lips and a shake of your head. “Or so I thought.” You dropped your fingers slowly, Logan’s lips puckering slightly as he kissed them. “I got to know you, Logan. Here and over the phone and in California. You don’t do anything on accident.” He nodded, the look of hope growing in his eyes. “I let myself care. And I thought you did too.” He whispered the words ‘I did’ and it was your turn to nod. “I want to be with you, Logan. I’ve wanted it for months, but I couldn’t just let myself go, I couldn’t … expect that from you, because of what you’re used to and what you’ve…” He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. “But I want that. I want you, Logan Delos. And if it’s long distance -”

 “Come to California. Come with me.” He leaned in, his hands on your face, the ends of his fingers digging into the back of your head. “That’s what I want. You. With me, there. You don’t even have to work, I don’t care, I just…” He swore, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’ll be here until Fireside officially closes, but…” But? “But that gives us time to get to know each other, to get to my year, to…” He took a deep breath. “For you to realize that I don’t need anything else if I’ve got you.” Really? “This isn’t hard, just say yes.” He was pleading with you, eyes focused - dark and determined. “Please.” 

 Your life played out in your mind over the span of only a few moments - losing your parents, moving in with Elle and Brandon, learning the ropes at Fireside, getting to know the guests and the town and the demands of ownership. You thought of meeting Logan - coatless in the middle of the winter in the airport, smug look on his face and an attitude to match. And yet… You thought about getting to know him, the easy jokes, the way the smallest things still impressed him in a genuine manner. Thought of his lips on yours for the first time, the way his hands felt on your skin, the way a minute with him felt like a lifetime in the best way possible. “Yes.” You nodded. “OK, Logan. Yes. I can find a job out there, and -” He stopped you, finally kissing you on the mouth, tongue slipping past your lips as he pulled you back onto his lap. You felt moisture on your face and thought for long moments that it was from your own tears, but when the two of you separated and you finally opened your eyes, you saw that he was crying, too. “Oh, Logan.” 

 “It’s fine.” He smiled, cheeks full and round, the creases in the corners of his eyes defined. “I’m fine.” He kissed you again, but this wasn’t in shock - it was pure happiness, Logan barely able to keep the grin off of his face as his lips met yours. “You’re gonna love California, and the beach, and…” He kept talking, but you didn’t hear all of his words, focused only on the relief you felt as his arms encircled your body, the way his muscles felt beneath your palms. No, Logan. Not California. I’m gonna love you. 

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