#and by too long i mean it goes back to january .

[fferthe]

YOU

[wszczebrzyszynie]

what is the like.... overarching plot of dns? is there an antagonist/conflict?

well this is fun. DNS does not have a real antagonist, so all the conflict is very character focused; it revolves around Przemek and Mikita trying to find their place in life as people who never truly felt like people. a very coming of age/slice of life kind of thing; its main theme is loneliness and all the things that come with it. The more detailed plot synopsis is under the read more as it turned out very, very long for a story that doesnt exist outside my head. It may just be the longest oc post i ever wrote here. 2 thousand words! thats a small fanfic. i dont know if i can call that a synopsis

The entire plot takes around one year (from one autumn to the next one) and is vaguely divided by the seasons; its not exactly on par with actual season dates, but its easier to categorise them that way for simplicity.

First fall, Przemek gets hired to be a junior gardener/garden help (which in this case oftentimes means doing whatever physical work in the palace needed) into a slowly collapsing, understaffed and isolated palace of a dying family line, the quite peculiar Kowalewicz family, with the owner, Eliza, rarely staying at that place. Durning work, he accidentialy gets lost in the building and catches a glimpse of a resident no one ever mentions, who just as quickly disappears. This "ghost" encounter is what makes him interact with Ryba more (who is one of the only people his age, his coworker and someone very focused on helping Przemek fit in in general; Przemek doesnt want to talk to people there, hes nervous and doesnt really feel safe away from his family; at this moment he lives from visit to visit, only really trusting his sister with things), and, with Ryba pushing him to see this ghost more, they try to explore the palace when they get a chance. Most notable moment is when they try to offer the ghost some food (bowl of kasha and some eggs) in the evening durning the dziady-all souls day period, to help it "achieve peace in the afterlife", but Przemek is too scared to go all the way and they just... leave the food on the attic stairs he first saw his ghost at. When they try to get back to their rooms (outside of the main palace building), they hear a loud thud above them. Przemek really wants to leave at that point, but he gets dragged back by Ryba, only to see that their ghost has fallen down the stairs (presumably tripping on the food) and is now unconcious. They dont know what to do and think they killed him, before he regains consciousness. Thats how they meet. Luckily for them he is far to unwell and dizzy to recognize what made him trip

Winter (late autumn-early winter) is the beginning of Przemek and Mikas relationship and the hostility that came with it. Przemek feels stupid for assuming Mika was a ghost, and Mika is just being generally unpleasant to him (and to lesser extent, Ryba, who tries to befriend him at any cost), because hes generally awful like that and wants to be left alone. He starts leaving the attic less the more Ryba pushes, but hes still willing to accept Ryba (because Ryba reminds him of a friend he had; Mikita is defined by his past and will clutch onto it because he doesnt want to live in the present and cant even imagine a future. and because Ryba is stubborn and doesnt want to leave Mika alone after thinking they killed him on those stairs; Ryba brings him food and they eat together). While his reationship with Ryba is... alright enough, he and Przemek cant get along no matter what Ryba does to ease things out. The tension between them is slowly building up for months, before in early january they get into a big fight. It ends up getting physical (Przemek finally gets to punch Mikita, who actually fights back and threatens him with a letter opener), and in the aftermath Mikita decides he cant stay in the attic (where the fight took place) and goes into the gardens, where he gets lost once it gets dark (Mikita is able to navigate the palace and gardens while in daylight, but in the darkness he is practically completly blind. While the first part of the gardens is relatively well maintained, the further it gets from the palace the more neglected it becomes, until it blends into the local forests). Unable to find his way back home in the cold, dark winter evening, he realizes hes probably going to freeze to death, and is afraid of dying for the first time; something he thought he was ready for and thought about a lot (to no ones surprise he is suicidal). Its a very important moment for Mikitas character overall. Tired out after what feels like eternity of limbo, he gets found on accident by Mikołaj and Tamara, the church ground/cemetery children, and passes out. This entire woods scene is the moment in the story that starts Mikas journey to become a person again; its his rebirth, esentially. Przemek in the meantime is left with the fact that he cant really help but somewhat identify with the way Mikita treated Ryba (quite badly, even if he was nicer to him than to Przemek), and that he should be a better friend overall; something he never really thought about before, not because hes awful, but because he never really had friends outside of his family, about which he doesnt really want to think about - Przemek gains something new in life to care for and that is his friendship with Ryba, which is both very simple and very difficult for him, but he chooses to focus on it in an attempt to save himself. In some way, those feelings culminated durning the fight, when he punched Mika, but only after he started unpacking what it all entails. In general Przemek starts to question himself more; hes been slowly opening up to other people at the palace for the past few months, and the fight is the trigger he needed to start recognizing that things are changing for him too. The snow starts getting so heavy they cant even leave the oficyna (the building with their rooms, servants kitchen, laundry room and all those things) and are unaware Mika disappeared; Przemek is more worried about the possibility of getting fired in the middle of winter for punching Mika, but Ryba does worry about him. Mikita gets sick and is being cared for by Mikołaj and Tamaras dad; they get along pretty well (especially since Mikita is unwell and had a life altering near death experience) and after two weeks Mikołaj gets Mika back home. No one noticed he was gone

Spring (which is actually late winter/middle of spring). The main three reconcile somewhat after the events of winter; Przemek and Mikita dont like each other, but they start to accept each others presence, mostly for Rybas sake, who doesnt want to be pushy after the winter events and recognizes Mikitas isolationist nature. Mikita starts going out more; not really outside, but starts hanging out in other places in the palace, and even visits the church grounds when he has the chance. This season comes with new characters; Eliza comes back home, and with her comes her brother and his family, who normally live in Britain. Among them is the youngest family member - Dominik, a young boy, who never really saw his dads family home, or ever been to Congress Poland, considering Artur was the first one to get away from that place. Dominik is out of his depth there and doesnt really enjoy that much at first; Ryba spends his time on trying to learn more about the kid, trying to make him feel more welcome. Przmek doesnt really care for the residents and wants to keep his distance, but he also feels like he cant leave Ryba alone, and so he runs errands with Ryba while he tries to help. While he manages to get along with the boy (who is drawn to anything cool his older peers do; and Ryba is plenty cool), he starts to recognize that the issue lies in him missing his home and the other side of his family, something neither of them can really fix. Its something that resonates with Przemek and forces him to finally think about his own family life; something he has been somewhat avoiding since his first arrival. Every month, Przemek gets to come back home for two days, and with each visit it has been getting harder, mostly due to his sister, Lena. Przemek starts the story very... depressed, mostly being dragged around by others, but now hes different. Hes still relatively meek, but being able to focus on new relationships and experience the weird but unconditional support at the palace made him a calmer, bit more content person, who can make choices for himself. In Lenas eyes however, her brother is leaving them behind, not as much physically as mentally, and she starts holding a grudge against him, causing tension Przemek doesnt understand or know how to fix it. The siblings relationship is something id like to go more in depth in another post if anyone would be interested in it, as its one of my favourite relationships in the story, and a very important one

Summer (late spring-late summer) is the last "proper" season. Over a month after Artur and his family come back home, another guests arrive - Beatrycze and her father, who is a close friend of Eliza, who will be staying there for a while. At that point Mikita has made a lot of progress since he first fell down the stairs and is taking part in the palaces... social life, if you can call it that, to an extent. Trycz is a peculiar guest, as she avoids talking to anyone, usually haunting the hallways and forgotten rooms of the palace, or walking by herself in the gardens. When caught, shes polite, but runs away from conversations at the first possible moment. Its Mikita who gets to actually talk to her first - and he does not like her, but this encounter makes Trycz open up a little. As a trans girl shes not very open to meeting strangers, but Mikita is... peculiar enough himself, with the rest of the palace (he doesnt go outside so he wears whatever, and he looks... queer enough to clock immidiately, i suppose. Trycz mistakes him for a girl herself at first) to make it better. While for Trycz it was a relatively nice encounter and a stepping stone in making friends at the manor, Mikita starts to get stuck in his own head. Once Ryba and Trycz become friends, and hes forced to listen about her from both the only peer hes willing to talk to, as well as the adults at the palace, he realizes just how completly envious he is of her. Convestations with Trycz and her family open up a box he has made his life goal to not think about - that he is, ultimately, still a failure, and his life will be forever defined by his childhood. In his head, Trycz is a literal better version of him, something he cant be anymore, and hes left to deal with that. He has to accept that he will never truly leave the attic - while someone like Trycz or Ryba or even Przemek can find their people, Mikitas ability to love died with his mother, and now he has nothing, he cant truly connect with anyone and he always will be a bit lonely. Summer for him is both a setback and a start; he will never be able to regain the relationship he used to have with his mother, but shes not here anymore, and he is. While his former attempts at getting better were rooted in wanting to be a bit like before, he recognizes he cant really do that. Przemek on the other hand gets to experience a... Ryba withdrawal, of sorts, as their relationship gets on the harder to understand side, and Przemek needs space to think about everything going on. He doesnt want to hang around the guests, and he still feels lost in regards of his family. Out of lack of options, he tries to talk to Mikita when they meet on accident - something they dont really do since they dont have to anymore. They actually manage to hold a conversation and share advice. Mikita tells him off for being so helpless and makes him go talk to someone more competent about his issues, but he does envy him for being able to care so much. The time of the next visit is getting near, and Przemek knows he has to do something about it, as he decided to not visit last month and feels incredibly guilty about it, ultimately finding his way back to Ryba. In the process of making sense of his family situation, he realizes he may be in love with Ryba, who pretty much knew already. He comes back home for a visit and apologizes to Lena for leaving her alone

Next autumn is an epilogue of sorts; a then vs now kind of thing. Przemek and Ryba help Mika move out of the attic into a different room in the palace

I dont think im capable of talking about my ocs in just a few words. I cut out some things (Rybas whole deal, the relationship between Lena and Przemek, Mikita durning spring) but i think thats the main meat. Its not much but its something i cherish

[habken]

Izuku and Katsuki Hospital Comic - Thoughts and Process

I wanted to talk about the process and my thoughts while making this comic! Cause it was A Lot of planning and I feel like talking about how I went about it could maybe be helpful for other people who wanna make comics too ?

Also I just like talking and I've had So Many thoughts about it over the last few months, I just need to get them all out lol

everything is under the cut (it's Very Long) ↓↓↓

Initial Thoughts

I started planning the comic in January, around the time the chapter with the second user's plan to transfer ofa to shigaraki came out. I remember feeling so anxious and sad seeing how devastated Deku was to lose the 'gift' that All Might had passed to him :'((

It made me start thinking about what it would be like to not only go from having all this insane power at your fingertips back to nothing, but also how it would feel to lose the vestiges, which had been his advisers, yapping in his ear and keeping him company for months. How it would feel to go from constantly having people looking over your shoulder back to silence.

Then I thought about what that would mean for his and Bakugou's relationship, which has developed so much over the series. How Bakugou would feel about Deku no longer having ofa, how the two of them would wrestle with old feelings now that Deku would be quirkless again. Bakugou having to face the kid he bullied and Deku going back to a state where the world saw him as "useless" with dreams too big for somebody without a quirk.

I feel like sometimes it's not really taken into account how Deku's past affects him in the present, and that goes for in the actual series as well. Considering he's the main character, it's funny that we never really get too much of a peak inside his mind lol, especially not recently, which is most likely intentional, but I digress.

What I really wanted to do for this comic was circle back to Deku's question to All Might at the start of the series, "can I become a hero without a quirk" because while yes, deku can be a hero, he had to get a quirk to do so. So what happens now that he no longer has it? After all of Bakugou and Deku's development, would Bakugou's opinion on deku pursuing his dreams while quirkless change?

I really didn't want that answer to be no. I didn't want to believe that Deku would have to give up and "be realistic" again, it just didn't feel right for that to be the answer after 400 chapters.

So I wanted to make something that would encapsulate those thoughts! And I felt like the best way to fully get that out was through a scene in the aftermath of the battle, the two of them in the hospital with nothing to do but talk about their feelings.

It was important to me that the doubts they both felt about the future were stomped out, and for there to be reassurance that things between them wouldn't snap back to how it was before UA. That Deku could still reach his dreams even if they did become harder to obtain.

I also felt like narratively it would be a good parallel if Bakugou were to lose something tied to his power too, and with his arm being so bad off in canon, I thought it made sense that there was a chance he could lose it forever.

So it's like they're both coming out of the final battle worse off with huge losses, but no matter what, they're going to fight to achieve their dreams, and they're going to do it side by side :')

At its core, it’s very self indulgent lmao, I didn’t think that we’d get something that sappy and gross in canon (😳) so I wanted to make something for myself :')

Planning

So then I made a first draft!

When I’m making bigger comics, thumbnails are super helpful! They help me see the full picture of what it could look like, and let me change things without putting in too much commitment. So most of the drawings are loose, but occasionally I’ll put in a little extra detail into things that I want to make sure are included in the final work.

There’s three main things I consider when thumbnailing for comics; expression, composition, and dialogue. Each of these things have a huge influence on each other, so keeping them all in mind when roughing out your drawings is important!

How it usually works is I play out the scene in my head like a movie and roughly come up with dialogue, then I draw characters and expressions based on that dialogue and the visions I had. Simultaneously I plan out approximately where those drawings will go/how much space they'll take up and finally, I add in the dialogue and move things around as needed so everything fits nice together.

Having the dialogue there in the draft lets me know around how big the speech bubbles are gonna be which is a massive help when figuring out paneling. It lets me plan around the bubbles and make sure nothing is too squished!

General tips:

Something I learnt from storyboarding is that establishing a setting for your scene at the start is really important! Most of my comics will start with a long shot or include one early on for this reason. It’s good for making sure readers aren’t confused on where everything is taking place!

Having a variety of shots is good for keeping your story engaging! This comic has a lot of closeups, but I tried to add variety where I could and used a lot of different angles to keep things entertaining even if there isn't that much going on

Final thoughts on this draft:

At this stage, the ending was really different from the final version I ended up with. It was a lot more focused on Bakugou's losses too and the vibe was kinda "well we're both nerfed now but that's chill we can still be heroes." I axed most of that cause I thought it was dumb and wasn’t really the conclusion I wanted lol

After the rough draft, I started sketching everything out and adding in panels based on the composition from the og thumbnails. I also changed the dialogue as I went, focusing on making it sound more natural and easy to read.

This is where the nuances in movement and expression became a bit more refined and speech bubbles where better planned out.

At this stage, establishing clarity and imagining how readers are going to move their eye along the page is really important. Comics are generally read left to right, but you can’t just assume people are going to automatically read it in the order you want, which is why panels and speech bubble locations are so important.

Tips:

A general rule is that along with going from left to right, speech bubbles should be in descending order. This can be broken a bit, but it’s important to remember that the rule is there in the first place for clarity's sake. So if you do plan on breaking it, make sure it's not at the sacrifice of legibility. The human eye is lazy and will jump to whatever seems most logical, so planning things out in a confusing manner is going to make your comic hard to read!

This is another thing I picked up from storyboarding, but keeping in mind the 180° rule is good for clarity as well! In the simplest of terms, if you have two characters in a scene, it’s good to keep character A on one side and character B on the other, and not switch those sides willy-nilly, otherwise it can get confusing. This isn't as important in comics as it is in film/television, but I still like keeping it in mind.

Final thoughts:

I hated the original ending but I couldn't exactly figure out how I wanted it to go, and I was too busy at that point to dedicate the time I needed towards it, so it stayed as these four panels for while :’)

During the period I stopped working on it, Deku lost his arms which had me panicking lmao, so much of the comic was devoted to his emotions and body language, specifically in his hands. I just went "am I gonna have to redo everything? Do I give him prosthetics?" and I was fully ready to rework the entire thing but Eri came in clutch for Deku (and me) <3

After Deku started getting hurt, I didn't really like the idea of him being discharged and sitting with a still injured Katsuki, and wanted it to be clear that they were both still in the hospital, so I had to axe poor Deku's "hospital gown" shirt for actual hospital garb </3

At some point during april-ish, I finally added in a new beginning and end, which took the comic from four pages to seven. I felt like the new parts added a lot more levity and humour which were needed, and I think it helped make Izuku and Katsuki feel closer than before.

For these pages, I skipped the thumbnail stage and jumped straight into full page stuff, which felt easier because they were kind of just add-ons.

Something I specifically liked were the first two panels in the last page. Fun fact, but a few days after I sketched those out, horikoshi released that art of to two of them smiling together and I went !! That's the vibe I wanted !! Me and Horikoshi are on the same wavelength! That was a good day lmao.

At this point, though, while new parts added a lot more to the story and brought it closer to the vibe I wanted, they also messed with the tone and overall pacing and it ended up feeling really off. Deku was now doing this weird 180 from being super sad and upset to then immediately joking around and goofing off with no acknowledgement of anything Katsuki was saying, which had been fine enough when it was just 4 panels, but very off-putting once I made the comic longer

...So I decided to add even more panels :')

I went back to my original ideas, and part of what I wanted to get across originally was the doubts about Izuku's future from here on out, and the worry that things would go back to how they were before he got ofa. I realized those initial things which had fueled the comic were no longer really part of it, and I wanted to change that.

When I thought up the idea of visuals surrounding their middle school selves, I felt so smart LMAO. I think it ended up being the thing that brought the entire comic together.

Izuku reverting back to that anxious, unconfident state, spiralling into himself, and mumbling out all his insecurities, including his fears about losing Katsuki's friendship (and yet still somehow more worried about Katsuki's feelings than his own). And in turn, Katsuki remembering and seeing Izuku as that kid again, and his own fears of becoming a bully once more.

It better explored what I wanted to originally get across and delved more into their feelings, so that the jokes and levity at the end felt like they were earned, rather than being a rapid shift in tone.

(The only other thing that changed was the some of the panels in the first page. I changed up the speech bubbles and got rid of a panel so it would be less cramped and easier to read.)

At this point, I was still having trouble figuring out how to tie everything in and segway pages 6-7 into the ending organically, so it sat like this for around a month.

Then chapter 423 released and the battle was over and I realized how little time I actually had to get the comic out. I knew that the next chapter could possibly make my entire comic obsolete, so I hauled ass :D

These were the final plans before I cleaned everything up! I changed around some of the panels to make the story flow better, I figured out how to tie everything in, and I finalized the dialogue!

At this point all the panelling was redone because I wanted more space in between them. Before, it felt really cramped and I think adding in more breathing room made it feel slightly less overwhelming for readers.

The biggest changes from the previous draft:

First, obviously, I finished the middle school stuff and figured out how to get from one part to the next. This was the hardest part of the planning, but I ended up deciding that Deku would spiral, Bakugou would kind of bring him out of that, they'd hug and then Bakugou would reassure him. I also included motifs relating to their childhood to be reminiscent of The Apology, and Katsuki's thoughts going back to them sharing the special All Might cards, them at the lake, etc. As if this was another healing moment for each part of them; their current selves, their MS selves, and their childhood selves too

I then changed some of the panels in the first page. I switched the direction of the diagonal line in the first few panels because I thought it made it more clear which way to start reading and made the comic flow better.

In the fourth page, I added a panel after Deku starts crying, because I felt like it worked better with the dialogue, and brought in more of Katsuki's POV into the story

The sixth page doesn't really look different, but there was a lot of resizing going on panel-wise. The bottom panel doesn't take up as much space and the panels up top are a little bigger

The final big change was the eighth page. I added in an extra panel and changed up a lot of expressions/dialogue so there was more of a natural transition between the heartfelt moments and the two goofing off

I then made some final changes and drawover notes before I started a week of cleanup and colouring!

Cleanup/Colouring Stage

Cleaning up my sketches usually just means duplicating the layer, putting the original layer at 5% opacity and.. cleaning it until it looks nice lol. It's the easiest way for me to work because I hate doing lineart.

This is what my sketch vs final usually looks like. The biggest change was adding in bandages into all the drawings lol.

For speech bubbles, I drew them all by hand, created a flat colour layer underneath in white, duplicated that and filled it in with black and shifted it with the transformation tool to make a drop shadow effect.

It took me two days to colour the whole thing :')

Usually when I colour, I work in a pretty painterly way, but I thought flats/cell shading would be a lot faster for this. I was right but it still took Very Long.

The smartest thing I did was put colour swatches of each colour I was using on a separate layer above everything else so I could easily use the eyedropper and get the right colour without having to reference them from another page. It was a big time saver!

I colour all on a single layer so I don't have progress photos to show, but for each drawing, I roughly added in all the colours in the approximate locations they'd be, and once I did that for every single panel, I went back and cleaned them up one by one.

And that's that! After colouring was done, I added my signature, posted it, and took the nap of the century.

Final, Final Thoughts

I worked... Very Hard to get the comic out before leaks night and even if it was just a few hours, I'm so glad I was able to do it cause when I saw the actual chapter I lost my mindddd

I feel like as the comic progressed, Katsuki's feelings took a backseat and if I was to redo it, I'd probably put a bit more emphasis on that than I did in the final version. I feel like his ~inner turmoil~ didn't fully come through the way I wanted it to. I didn't want it to be an immediate acceptance — I wanted the fact that he was struggling with his past to be evident too — but with the focus being so heavily on Izuku, Katsuki's inner thoughts get a bit lost which is too bad </3 Good thing is Horikoshi had the exact opposite idea as me, so it all worked out :D

I'm really proud of how the comic turned out, and I'm so happy to have gotten such a positive response to it! Thank you for reading if you got this far and thank you for reading my silly self-indulgent hospital comic :)

[writingonleaves]

got lovestruck, went straight to my head (got lovesick all over my bed) - nico hischier

universe: nico hischier x clementine sandoval (the blue au)

warnings: swearing, mentions of stuff you'd typically see in the hospital (death, etc), author has never been to switzerland (but wants to!!), fluff! angst if you squint

title: "slut!" by taylor swift

word count: 23k (originally 27k but had to be cut down bc tumblr apparently has a limit of blocks per post??? lol)

author's note: long anticipated (official) part two to this little ditty. takes place pretty much right where the first part left off and goes until january 2025. i love clem. i love clem and nico. i love this whole world, and it loves all of you right back. thanks for all the love, truly. it means so much. here are some more slice of life moments that will probably rot your teeth because they're so sweet! enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!!

~*~*~

Devils fans love Nico Hischier, Clementine realizes, as she waits in a cafe across the back entrance of The Rock, looking outside as Nico takes the time to sign things and take pictures with the fans.

To some extent, after being in Jersey for a full season now, she knows how adored he is — the multitude of 13 jerseys during every game and how she has never heard a single bad thing said about him, whether that be as a person, captain or player. But right now, she’s smiling as he thanks the fans for their support when she knows he was devastated less than 48 hours prior. 

This team, their fans and this community love their captain. They’d go to the ends of the world for him, she’s convinced. 

She feels her phone buzz in her pocket. She pulls it out with a smile. 

Nico Hischier 

Meet me at my car in 5 mins? ❤️

She smiles, just liking the text before slinging her bag over her shoulders, grabbing her half finished coffee and going back to the counter to order a cappuccino for Nico. She thanks the barista when he’s done, grabs the cappuccino and goes back down to the parking garage. 

Nico’s leaning against his car on his phone, but puts it away when he sees her walking to him. She shuffles over quickly and gives him a quick kiss. She doesn’t think she’ll get used to that. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey.” The fondness tinged at the short greeting isn’t new, Clementine knows now, but it makes her smile all the same. “Thanks for the coffee. Sorry I took so long,” he says, taking his coffee and opening the passenger door. 

“You’re good,” she slides in and waits for him to get to the driver’s seat. “You doing alright?”

He starts the engine and looks over at her with a soft smile. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

He reaches over to give her thigh a comforting squeeze after backing out. ‘I’m sure. I promise. Play some music.”

“Do you even like my music?”

“I listen to anything. You know that.”

She chuckles, plugging in her phone. “They love you.”

“Hm?”

“The fans. I was watching outside the windows of the cafe.”

He shrugs. “They’re always great. Have been good to me since I came into the league and have stuck by us.”

She looks at him thoughtfully. “They also have nothing but respect for their captain, who led them through the season extraordinarily well despite all the downs.” She leans her head on his arm for a few seconds. “I know it’s hard, but try not to blame yourself too much. You can’t and shouldn’t carry all that weight. The boys know that. The fans know that.”

He nods and looks over at her with a smile. “Gotten good at that throughout the years, hey? Comforting people after big losses.”

“Tell me about it.” She thinks back to when Quinn and Jack lost the gold medal match in 2019 at World Juniors and both times Luke’s dream of winning a national championship with Michigan fell short. And those are just the ones she can think of off the top of her head. “I’m serious though. It’ll come for you guys. I know it will.”

“Thanks, Schätzli.” Oh. That’s also a new development. The first time it slipped out, Nico had almost taken it back with wide, panicked eyes. But Clementine had promptly pulled him down to kiss her. 

The team all chipped in to rent out a rooftop bar in Tribeca tonight to celebrate their season, the multitude of birthdays that occurred during the last part of the season that they couldn’t really celebrate at the time, and to just hang out before people start dispersing for the off-season. Therefore, Clementine purposefully volunteered for the overnight shift the day before and took a four hour nap before she tagged along to locker cleanout. She hid out in the cafe while they all had to do their end-of-season duties.

But they have a few hours to kill before heading into Manhattan, so the new couple spend the afternoon at Liberty State Park, enjoying the rare instance since the night of their first kiss where they’ve both been free. Clementine’s packed a small cooler with some tiny sandwiches, fruit and small bottles of wine. Nico lays out a blanket and Clementine toes off her sandals. It’s beautiful outside, and after she’s done munching on the food, she finds herself laying her head in Nico’s lap as he plays with her hair, talking about everything and nothing. Occasionally he just leans down to place a kiss on her forehead or cheek and she feels her throat closing up everytime at the sweetness of the gesture. 

They have limited time before Nico heads back home to Switzerland. She’ll take all the moments she can get.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Uh oh,” she jokes. “Should I be nervous?”

“No, no, no. It’s just..maybe a bit of a weird question.”

“Nico. I deal with kids on a daily basis. And other residents who have no sense of boundaries. And Jack and Luke where all social cues are nonexistent. Almost nothing fazes me at this point.”

“Well, of course I’ve seen you around Jack and Luke so I know what your relationship is like with them. But how are you with Quinn?”

“Huh. Why do you ask?”

Nico twirls a piece of her hair around his finger. “They’ve mentioned a couple of times how I remind them of Quinn sometimes, which you know, I think is a compliment. I respect Quinn a lot as a player and he did a great job captaining that team this year. But, I don’t know. I’m just curious.” 

Clementine smiles easily. “Luke’s my baby and Jack’s like the most annoying little brother you could ask for, but yeah. Quinn is..he’s also like a little brother, but he’s also my best friend. I think Quinn and I are the most similar in terms of how we think. So I guess that leads to a sense of…understanding? Like, on a different level than with Luke and Jack. And if you think I’m protective of Jack and Luke, I’m probably even worse with Quinn. He’s just always so busy looking after the other two that he sometimes forgets he needs to look out for himself too.”

“Then who looks after you?”

“Hm?”

“If you’re busy looking after those three, who looks after you?”

She sits up as he lets her hair fall from his fingers. She plops a strawberry in his mouth. “I don’t need anyone to look after me.”

“Those three don’t need anyone to look after them.” He points out. 

“Lies. You think Luke and Jack are annoying now? They were ten times worse before. And you think Luca and Nina don’t still feel a responsibility to look after their little brother? I haven’t even met them and I think I know the answer.” She shrugs, hooking her chin on his shoulder. “I don’t mind, really. They also, in a way, look after me as well, especially as we’ve gotten older. But I don’t think I answered your question. I guess you’ll have to see Quinny and I together and see for yourself.”

He hums, kissing her forehead twice. “You gotta take some time to look after yourself too. You’re no use to them if you don’t.”

“I know. I think I’ve managed the balance well. And you’re partially right. I don’t need to look after them as much anymore, especially since now Quinny has a girlfriend who I still haven’t met and you look after Jack and Luke plenty.”

Nico snorts. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet Quinn’s girlfriend this summer.”

“If the fucker answered my calls, that would be a start,” she says. “Are you all packed to go yet?”

“Not at all.”

He literally leaves in two days. “God, you all really are the same breed. I bet I could pack all your shit in an hour. Maybe even less.”

He smirks. “Is that a challenge?”

“No. Pack your own stuff. You’re a grown man.”

He laughs, and they switch positions. Now his head is in her lap and she’s running her hand through his hair. She’s still learning things about Nico, but she’s pretty sure that he likes her playing with his hair more than she likes him playing with hers. He clears his throat. “And, um, I don’t need to pack yet. I’m staying in Jersey a bit longer.”

“Yeah? How much longer?”

“Like, June 7? So what is that..three weeks?”

She blinks. “Nico, I don’t-”

“This has nothing to do with you,” he says, before grimacing. “That’s not what I mean. It actually has a lot to do with you. But it was my choice. I’m in no rush to get back, in terms of training and all that. Plus, a bunch of the guys are staying for a bit too. And I want to spend time with you, because I do have…what did you say? ‘Impeccably shit timing.’”

“I just want to make it clear that you don’t have to stay just for me,” she assures softly. “I know you miss home and I understand the importance of an off season.”

He looks up at her earnestly, “Spending time with you is also important to me.”

Her heart soars as she traces his lips with her thumb. He catches her hand and kisses her knuckles. “Well, I’m not gonna complain about that.”

The rooftop bar that night is a fun time, even if she feels very much out of her tax bracket. She chats with pretty much everyone, much more comfortable than she was at the start of the season. People egg her on to share childhood stories of Jack and Luke, which she has plenty of. And even if they both groan and act embarrassed, she knows they love it. The drinks are plentiful and she likes seeing everyone let loose the way they can’t during the season. She’s sure the team is still disappointed from their season to some extent, so it’s nice to see them all smile and laugh and generally have a good time. 

At some point in the night, she’s sitting by herself for some space, admiring the skyline with a ginger ale in her hands, taking a break from the alcohol she’s consumed tonight. 

“Social butterfly finally tired out?”

She looks up to see Jack, cheeks flushed and hair adorably tousled, staring down at her. She scooches over to offer him a seat. “A bit. It just hit me that I’m running on four hours of sleep.”

He snorts, sitting down. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” He tucks himself into her side like he used to do as a kid, taking her arm and using it as a pillow. “We still on for dinner tomorrow? Just me, you and Lukey?”

“Of course. I gotta get my fix in before you all leave me to hang with all your friends.”

Jack shoves her lightly. “We’re literally staying in Jersey until the end of the month. Or the Northeast, at least.”

“Okay, and Trevor literally flies in in two days. And then you and Luke’s friends are gonna rotate in and out. I’ll be lucky if I get a second of quiet at the apartment.”

Jack laughs, but then a worried look crosses his face. “I told them that under no circumstance can they enter your room without your permission. I don’t want them being here to fuck up your schedule.”

She waves him off. “It’s fine, Jack. I promise. Besides, I’ll just hide out at Nico’s if I need. Did he tell you that he’s staying a bit longer?”

His smirks. “He did. Mom invited him to spend the long weekend with us up in New Hampshire.”

“He didn’t mention that.”

“Probably because I literally just told him an hour ago when Mom texted me. You know this means he’s gonna be meeting Maeve, right?”

She blinks. “Shit, yeah. A bit soon, no?”

To her surprise, instead of agreeing or making fun of her, Jack just shrugs. “I don’t think so. You and Nico are the real deal.”

Her mouth drops open a bit in shock. “Oh.” 

Jack just shoots her an award-winning grin. “And Maeve is gonna love him.”

That, Clementine thinks, is most definitely true,

As they drive home, she’s in the passenger seat with Luke and Jack in the back, quietly dozing off. Nico’s hand is on her thigh as she’s queuing songs up on her phone. Even after living in the city for almost a year now, she still finds herself in awe at the NYC skyline, especially on the rare chance she gets to see it from the angle of leaving the city in a car this late. Her attention is brought elsewhere when she feels a squeeze on her thigh. She looks at Nico and smiles. 

(It’s hard to not smile when she looks at Nico)

“You have fun?” He asks softly, careful not to disturb the brothers in the back. 

“Lots,” she responds. “Thanks for having me.”

“Of course,” he says. “I think there would have been an uproar if you hadn’t come. Everyone loves having you around.”

“Jack told me you’re invited to Memorial Day weekend celebrations in New Hampshire.”

“Yeah. It was sweet of Ellen to invite me. It’ll be fun to experience a classic summer weekend out here.” He suddenly looks at her, worried. “That’s okay, right? I don’t wanna intrude.”

“What? Of course it’s fine. It’s gonna be a chill weekend with good food and a lot of sun. You know you’re gonna be meeting my mom, right?”

“Is that a problem? Moms usually like me. Ellen likes me, I think.”

Clementine rolls her eyes. “No, I just, as long as you know.”

Nico looks over at her. “Your mom’s clearly important to you and raised a beautiful woman. I’m excited to meet her.” She swallows roughly. Nico changes topics easily. “Have you figured out your plans for the summer? How much vacation time do you have?”

“Not much. Maybe, like, two weeks at most. I’m still trying to figure it out. The boys invited me to Michigan, which would be fun. I haven’t been back there for a bit. Some of my friends from med school are going to meet back up in California at some point.”

“Two very different options.”

“Yeah. I probably need to figure it out soon though so I can request the leave.”

“Have you thought about Switzerland?”

She’s looking out her window, so she doesn’t see the hesitant but honest look on his face. “Showing me your hometown already, Cap?” She jokes

“If you want.” She whips her head to look at him. Oh. He’s serious. He backtracks. “I-I get if you think it’s too soon, but you’ve mentioned that you wanna go back. And I could show you around. Or we could go to other places in Europe too. I-I feel bad that I’m about to leave when we haven’t gotten quality time together which I know is partially my fault-”

She pushes her chin into his arm, looking up at him as he briefly looks down at her before focusing back on the road. “You’d be okay with that? Me coming to your hometown?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“We just started dating officially..what, like a month ago? Not even?” She looks to the backseat to ensure that Jack and Luke are still asleep, or are at least faking it to give them some sort of privacy. They are. She turns back around. “I don’t…I just don’t want you to feel like you- I-you’re really important to me,” she admits with a swallow. “I don’t wanna mess it up by moving too fast.”

“You’re not messing anything up,” Nico takes her hand and kisses the back of it. “I’m not gonna push you. It’s ultimately your decision. But I would absolutely love to show you around where I grew up and spend more time together.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” he assures. “Take all the time you need.”

She leans to kiss his cheek. 

…..

“Switzerland?” Luke practically screeches. “To introduce you to his family?”

Clementine rolls her eyes, sliding him a glass of orange juice across the counter. Trevor giggles into his coffee and without looking, she smacks the back of his head. 

“Switzerland because it’s beautiful and to spend time with my boyfriend,” Clementine says pointedly. 

“Go frolic in Europe with your new boyfriend,” Trevor grins. “You deserve it. Jacky tells me you’re barely home.”

“I’m trying to become a doctor, Trev. I signed up for not having a life.”

“Exactly, which is an even better reason to go visit your hot boyfriend in Europe.” Jack and Luke give their old friend a weird look. Trevor just shrugs. “What? Your captain’s a good looking guy, and you’re delusional if you think differently.”

“I don’t care if Nico is the hottest person in the world. He’s kissing my sister. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” Luke says with a wrinkled nose. 

Jack chuckles, ruffling his little brother’s hair. “Well, get used to it, Moose. And it’s kinda our fault. I mean, we’re the ones who wanted this all season. It’s fucking hilarious that they decided to start a relationship when they did though.” He comes up behind Clementine and pokes her side, rinsing his plate before putting it in the dishwasher. “Z’s right. You should go. Even if that means you wouldn’t be able to come to Michigan.”

“Aw, Clemmy’s missing the Michigan trip again?” Trevor whines. “Nevermind. Fuck your boyfriend.”

“I haven’t been to Michigan in three years so I don’t know what you’re whining about,” Clementine snorts. “And you can’t get rid of me that quickly. Especially because I, you know, live here and y’all are going to be around for who knows how long.” She taps Trevor’s phone on the counter to check the time. “Alright, I gotta head to the hospital. See you guys later.”

“Bye!”

“Love you.”

“See you tonight? What time will you be back?”

“11? Midnight the latest,” she grabs her pasta salad lunch from the fridge into her tote bag. “Have fun. Call if you need me. The usual.”

“Be safe,” Jack calls out. She clicks the door shut. 

Her phone buzzes in her hand. She laughs out loud. 

Quinny Hughes

Heard you’re going to Switzerland? 

She rolls her eyes. It’s nice to know the brothers’ group chat is still as active and rapid as ever.

Clementine Sandoval 

all three of you are actually the worst

and i’m older than all of you don’t be trying to parent me

Quinny Hughes

So you are going. 

At least get us some good chocolate then.

Clementine Sandoval

lol i miss you

did you ever figure out if you’re coming to nh for memorial day?

it’s literally in two days i hope you have an answer

Quinny Hughes

Yeah I am. Especially now that you aren’t coming to Michigan this summer. Jack and Luke get to see you all the time it’s my turn.

And I’ll get to interrogate your new boyfriend.

Clementine Sandoval

sigh 

are you at least bringing lauren

Quinny Hughes

Yup.

Clementine Sandoval 

fantastic

finally another fucking girl

Quinny Hughes

Lol. See you soon❤️

Clementine smiles before starting her car. 

…..

Two days later, Jack, Luke, Trevor, Nico and Clementine pile into Jack’s car to head up to the Hughes family’s lakehouse to spend the long weekend. She lets Luke have the passenger seat because it’s a five hour drive and he has the longest legs. Additionally, she finds great amusement in seeing Nico and Trevor interact and getting to sit in the middle of them and put her head on Nico’s shoulder and her legs over Trevor’s lap. Though, with Trevor’s constant yapping, Nico’s surprisingly unhinged stories, Jack’s loud laughter and Luke’s tendency to make a comment on everything, the drive goes by so damn slow that by the time they roll into the driveway, Clementine is practically shoving Trevor to get out of the car.

At the front door, Ellen’s laughing and Clementine rushes over to her second mother to give her a big hug. 

Ellen rocks her back and forth. “It’s so good to see you, my girl.”

“You literally saw her three weeks ago?” Jack says, coming up behind them.

“Hide your jealousy better, Jacky,” Clementine teases. “It’s always good to see you, Ellen.” Jim comes up behind his wife and she beams. “Hi Jimmy!”

He laughs, wrapping her in a fatherly hug. “Hi Sunshine. El made sangria for everyone, and it’s still cold.”

Clementine lights up. “Oh amazing. I’ll grab a glass after I get my stuff.” She turns around to see Nico coming up the stairs with both his and her bags in his hands. 

A knowing smile appears on Jim’s face. “Think that’s already covered.” She rushes to help him out but Nico just swats her away. Jim nods at Nico. “Good to see you again, Nico.”

“Good to see you too, Mr. Hughes,” he puts his bags down to shake Jim’s hand and hug Ellen, as Jack, Luke and Trevor clamber into the house. “Thank you both so much for having me.”

“Anytime, Nico!” Ellen beams. “And please, call us by our first names. You’re family, especially after recent developments.” 

Clementine rolls her eyes as Nico immediately becomes flustered. “Really? Mom’s not even here yet.”

“Oh can you blame me, Clementine? Now I don’t have to hear Jack and Luke whine about when their sister and captain are going to get together.” Ellen says. “But I’ll be cool for now. Why don’t you show Nico up to your room and drop all your stuff off? Your mom picked up Quinn and Lauren from Logan and should be here any minute. Boys!” She calls out and Jack, Luke and Trevor magically appear and Clementine rolls her eyes. “Take your stuff up to your rooms so no one trips over your things. Trevor and Jack, you’re sharing.”

Trevor turns to Jack with a kissy face and Jack grimaces. “You and me, Jacky boy! Just like old times.”

“Get the fuck away from me,” Jack says dryly as Luke chuckles. Jack glares at his younger brother. “How come you get a solo room?”

“Because Quinn and Lauren are getting the other room.”

“And where is Maeve staying?”

“Probably in the basement so she doesn’t have to deal with all you guys.” Clementine retorts. 

Jack turns to his parents. “You’re letting Clee and Nico share a room? And Quinn and Lauren?”

“We’re adults, you know?” Clementine sighs, pinching her nose. “You guys are exhausting. Move out of my way so we can get through.” She hears Nico stifle a laugh as they reluctantly clear a pathway. “Somehow they’re even more annoying during off-season than during the season,” she says as they climb up the stairs.

“It’s fine,” Nico chuckles. “It’s nice. The chaos, I mean. Tells a lot about who you are.”

“Don’t associate me with those fools,” Clementine says with no heat as she pushes open the door to the room in this house that’s always been designated as hers. “Here we are.”

Nico puts the bags down and immediately scans some of the photos framed on the wall. He ‘aww’s and she turns around to find him staring at the one of her and the boys during her UCLA graduation. “You guys are such babies here.”

“A week before Jack got drafted,” Clementine recalls fondly. “The boys surprised me. I didn’t think they were gonna come because they had so much hockey stuff going on.”

“You went to all their drafts, right?” Nico says. Clementine nods. “So of course they were there during one of your biggest moments.” Nico points to another photo of both families when they were all at this exact lake house. Her dad’s in this one. “When was this taken?”

“2013.” Clementine smiles sadly. “It was the last summer my dad came here. I know it’s one of Ellen’s favorites. Mine too.”

Nico hums, kissing her temple gently before scanning the rest of the room. It’s mostly white with some rustic elements, splashes of tan and ocean blue in the comforter and the sparse decorations.  “Would I be right in assuming that this room hasn’t changed much since you were young?”

“It’s definitely cleaner,” Clementine laughs. “I know Jim and El use it as a guest room, but whenever I get the chance to come back, they say it’s mine.” There’s the sound of the front door opening and a cacophony of greetings floating through the room. She turns her body towards him and looks up at him. “Are you sure about this?”

“Well, even if I wasn’t, it’s a bit too late now, isn’t it?” He says. She pokes him in the side. He leans down to gently peck her lips twice. “Why are you so nervous? Shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous?” 

She chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Let’s go down.”

They walk down the stairs, Nico close behind her but not quite touching her. Clementine beams as she watches her mom hug Luke and put her hands on his cheeks before greeting Jack in the same way. She knows her mom doesn’t ever miss seeing the Devils or the Canucks when they’re playing the Bruins in Boston, but that only totals to usually only three games a season. 

Clementine thinks a lot about how she sees Jim and Ellen as her parents. It’s during these moments does she remember that the boys see her mom the exact same way. 

Maeve’s eyes flit up to the stairs and she raises an eyebrow. “My beautiful daughter. You look exhausted.”

Clementine snorts. “Thanks, Mom.” She descends down the last step and hugs her mother tightly, breathing in the scent that has comforted her on the best and worst days. She catches Quinn’s eye over Maeve’s shoulder as Trevor is chatting in his ear and she can’t help but grin. 

Maeve pulls away and eyes Nico, a half smile on her face. “And you must be the infamous Nico.”

Nico chuckles, eyes widening momentarily as Maeve pulls him into a hearty hug. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Sandoval.”

Maeve lets out an affronted noise. “None of that. Call me Maeve. You European boys and your politeness.” Clementine laughs under her breath. “It’s so nice to meet you! My daughter hasn’t mentioned how handsome you are.”

“Probably because she’s the one carrying in the looks department of the relationship.” Nico grins charmingly and Clementine feels so fucking fond.

She then begins to leave her boyfriend and her mom to converse and turns to Quinn. Time with Quinn is always scarce. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck. “Hey Q.”

“Hey Clem.” 

Clementine turns to the beautiful girl next to him. “And you must be Lauren. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She also pulls the girl into a hug. “Quinn’s been keeping you away from me.”

Quinn shoots his older sister a dirty look. “That’s not true. It’s not my fault you don’t live in California any more.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Lauren says softly. “Quinn’s told me so much about you. I love your pants.”

Clementine looks down at her cream flowy pants with a wide smile. “Oh thank you! You’re gorgeous. How in the world did Quinn land you?”

Lauren laughs as Quinn groans. “Clem.”

“I’m kidding!” She ruffles his hair. “Damn, let me have my fun. I don’t get to do this often. And don’t pretend that you’re not about to grill Nico this entire weekend.”

“She’s got you there,” Lauren says with a laugh.

Trevor comes up inbetween the girls. “Have you met this one yet?” Clementine asks.

Lauren nods. “I have. Kinda. Hi Trevor. Quinn’s also told me a lot about you.”

Trevor’s eyes widen as he pulls Lauren into a side hug. “Never listen to anything Quinn says about me. He’s mean to me.”

“You guys are all mean to each other,” Clementine rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what point you’re trying to make.” 

Maeve claps her hands. “Out of the doorway and into the backyard, everyone! El made sangria and it’s too nice to be inside.” She picks up her bags but is swatted away by Luke, who takes the bags from her hands. Maeve kisses him on the cheek. “Thanks, honey.”

Jack rolls his eyes as they all start walking towards the kitchen. “We get it, Maeve. Luke is your favorite.” Ellen gives him a warning look as Quinn snorts. 

“You know,” Maeve starts. “I was about to tell you how glad I am to see you. But with that comment, I’ll abstain.” Jack pouts and Maeve rolls her eyes but messes up his hair fondly. 

Nico places his hand on Clementine’s back and leans down to mutter in her ear. “I see where you get your sass from.”

Clementine chuckles under her breath. “You gotta have some sass to deal with them. My mom’s the blueprint.”

Everyone grabs a glass of sangria before they migrate outside. Clementine finds herself sitting in between Lauren and Luke, Nico sitting by her legs with everyone else in various chairs or on the grass in some sort of circle. Clementine automatically carding her fingers though Nico’s hair as she speaks to Lauren and Quinn. She still can’t believe they’ve been dating for over a year and she’s only met Lauren now. 

If she was still in California, she would’ve flown her ass to Vancouver and parked herself at Quinn’s apartment at the first chance she had. 

While she’s listening in on a conversation between Nico, Quinn and Trevor, she catches both her mom and Ellen’s eyes on her. She narrows her eyes. She sees her mom not-so-subtly eyeing her hand in Nico’s hair and him leaning back against her legs. 

Jack notices, looking between the two of them with a smirk. “Thoughts, Maeve?”

“Jack,” Clementine says in a warning tone. Nico squeezes her ankle in reassurance. 

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

Maeve chuckles, and Clementine sees her smile, the same smile that everyone says she also has. “Nothing in particular. Just thinking about how fun your time in Jersey has probably been so far.”

Clementine bites her lip, closed lipped-smile threatening to burst through the seams. “It could be worse.” 

As expected, Jack rolls his eyes and Luke gives her a dirty look. “Well, what could make it better?” Luke asks. 

“If you guys cooked more for me.”

Quinn looks at his brothers with a disapproving look. “You’re making Clem cook for all of you? Guys, come on. She’s busier than all of us combined.”

Jack’s jaw drops wide open as Trevor cackles. “That’s not even true! We cook for you. Just not as much because you’re just a better cook. And you always have leftovers.” Jack reaches over to whack Clementine’s shoulder. “Stop making us look like bad roommates.”

Clementine chuckles to herself. She has a lot of favorite things in life, but making fun of her brothers and throwing them under the bus has to be at the top. 

Nico looks up at her and she has to stop herself from leaning down and kissing him silly. “That cake you baked me for my birthday is still the best dessert I’ve had in awhile.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re just being nice. And, I baked another one for Jack and Luke, which circles back to my point.”

Ellen starts lightly scolding her two youngest for not cooking more and Clementine snickers as she feels Nico’s shoulders shake as he’s trying to hold back his laugh. She drops his hands from his hair and instead leans forward, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. He automatically grabs her wrists and keeps his hands there. She places a quick kiss to the side of his head. 

(Without their knowledge, Maeve catches the romantic motion. She doesn’t even bother to hide her smile.)

It’s not the first time she’s seen Nico around the people she loves, but that whole weekend, she watches him and her mom get along so well, him offer to help out Ellen and Jim for meals, him shove Trevor into the lake when he’s being an absolute pest, him sitting down with Quinn by the fire one night a bit away from everyone to talk about something that neither Quinn or Nico will tell her about so she knows it’s about her. 

He slips so easily into the most important part of her life. Clementine doesn’t quite love him yet, but she’s real close. 

Their last night, as they’re getting ready to sleep, Clementine's just staring at Nico from her bed as he’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He catches her eye in the mirror and smiles, but toothpaste dribbles down his chins causing him to curse and her to laugh. 

When he climbs under the covers, she places her head on his chest. “Thanks.” 

“For?” 

“Coming here. I’m sure it’s a lot.” 

“It’s not,” he assures gently. “Why would it be?” 

She shrugs, because he’s right, in a sense. “Families are always a lot, no matter how good they are. And I know Quinn and Jimmy grilled you way more than necessary.” 

“Baby,” he rubs up and down her arm. “I knew that was gonna happen as soon as I was invited here. They were more than fine. Jack and Luke’s threats were way worse.”

“They’re annoying.” 

“They love you,” he says. “And they’re protective of you. I get it. I’m the same way with Nina.” 

She shifts so she’s eye level with him. “About that…” 

“Hm?” 

“I got the okay from my supervisors to take two weeks off.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Can I still come to see you in Switzerland?” She asks, biting her lip, nervous all of a sudden. 

Nico kisses her soundly. “Of course,” he mutters against her lips. “Yes. When?”

“I was thinking early July?” 

“To spend your birthday?” 

“If you’ll have me.” 

He squeezes her exaggeratingly, making her giggle. “You’re silly. Of course. Is there anywhere you really wanna go?” 

“I mean, I’ll go anywhere.”

“I can take you all around Switzerland. Give you the grand tour.”

“That sounds perfect,” she swallows before bringing up something that’s very important to her. “I’m paying half.” 

Nico counters back immediately. “One third.” 

She scoffs. She was prepared for this disagreement. “Half.” 

“Hey,” he kisses the top of her head. “You’re coming to see me. The least I can do is handle all of that.” 

“You’re housing me and taking me around. I’m paying for half.” 

“Nope.”

“Nico. I am perfectly capable of paying for myself.” 

“You pay for your own plane tickets and I got the rest.” 

“I pay for my own plane tickets and meals and then you got the rest.” 

“Schätzli. Let me take care of it, yeah? I want to. And I’m perfectly capable of doing so.” 

“I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger,” Clementine says with a bit of a whine, making Nico snort. 

“I know you’re not a gold digger. If you were, you’d actually let Jack pay for you more. You know he makes more than I do, right?”

“Weird flex.”

“You pay for your plane tickets and some meals,” he compromises. “Save the rest up for something else. Buy Luke a new suit for his birthday or something.” 

She chuckles. “He does need one.” 

“Exactly.” 

Clementine lets out relenting a sigh. She’ll just have to sneak her card in here or there. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah. I just really don’t want you to think I’m mooching off you or anything.” 

“I’ve never thought of it like that at all, I promise,” he assures. She settles back against his chest again. “I’m so excited for you to come.” 

“I hope your family doesn’t hate me.” 

“They won’t.” And he says it so confidently that she has to believe him. “No one could hate you. Besides, Nina’s been dying to meet you and Luca wants to know the ‘girl who’s voluntarily dealing with my shit.’”

She laughs, turning to shut off the lamp. “Still. You’re their baby brother.” 

He pouts. “I’m not a baby.” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m convinced.” She yawns, tossing a blanket over them both. “We should sleep. Gotta have energy to deal with the hooligans in the car tomorrow.” 

He laughs, kissing her forehead. “Goodnight.” 

*****

Clementine offers to drive Nico to the airport before she goes to the hospital, even though he tries to vehemently fight her on it. Clementine ultimately wins the argument, wanting to spend as much time as possible before he leaves. 

“It’s only a month,” she reminds him as she kills the engine at the curbside of the departure terminal at Newark Liberty International Airport, biting her lip to also assure herself. 

He leans over the console to kiss her sweetly. “I know,” he murmurs against her lips. “That’s a long time though.”

She runs a hand through his hair. He leans into it instinctively. “I’ll be there with you before you know it. You’ll be having too much fun catching up with family and friends to even think about me.”

“Not true.” She rolls her eyes with a smile as they both climb out of the car. Nico finishes unloading his luggage from the trunk as he carries it to the curb. Clementine’s amazed that no one has yelled at them for parking by the curbside too long yet.

She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly, leaning her head on his chest and breathing in deeply, trying to memorize his scent. “I’ll miss you.”

“I miss you already,” he mutters into her hair. “I’ll call.”

“You fucking better,” she shoots back with no bite. “Have fun, okay? Enjoy your time off.”

He kisses her one more time, which turns into three more times. Clementine bites her lower lip as he backs away to try not to cry. He brushes his thumb against her cheek. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

She nods with a shaky smile. “Yeah. Text me before you take off.”

“Of course.” He clasps his hand on his suitcase handles and backs away with a sweet smile. “Bye, baby.”

After he walks through the doors, she promptly drives herself to the train station, music playing louder than normal to hopefully drown out her own loud thoughts. She parks to see a text from Nico saying that he’s at the gate, a horribly-angled selfie of him and a coffee he must’ve bought. 

Clementine saves it.

…..

It’s only been eleven days since Nico flew back to Switzerland. They text everyday and FaceTime when the time differences allow. She always wakes up to a good morning text and a mini photo dump of pictures he’s taken that day. Sometimes they’re of the beautiful sights of Bern or Naters or wherever he is. Sometimes they’re literally just a picture of his toast for breakfast. But they’re nice to receive. And at his urging, she sends similar photo dumps back. His favorites are the selfies she takes at work. Bonus points if she’s wearing the scrubs he got her for Christmas. 

She goes to the hospital. She spends sporadic time with Quinn, Jack, Luke and other stragglers who show up at the apartment before they all head back to Michigan or wherever else. Nico relaxes with his friends and family. 

She misses him like a limb. 

…..

Clementine’s phone rings as she’s sipping on her coffee while sitting at a cafe by the hospital. She raises an eyebrow when she sees who’s calling. 

“Quinn. Hey.”

“Hi Clem. Are you busy?”

“You have me for about 15 minutes. What’s up?” She hears a sniffle and immediately she sits up straighter. “Quinny? Is everything okay?”

“Lauren and I broke up.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “Fuck. Oh Quinn, I’m so sorry. When did this happen?”

“Earlier this morning. She-she called it off. Over the phone.”

“Over the phone?” Clementine tries to level her voice and judgment. “Wasn’t she just in Michigan?”

“She left last week.”

“Fuck, Quinn. How are you feeling?”

“I just, I’m just really sad, I guess. And a bit confused.” She gives him a moment to think. “I know she was voicing concerns about the distance and stuff, but we had talked about it and I thought we had come to a conclusion. I guess we left that conversation feeling very differently.”

Clementine picks at her nails, “What was her reasoning? Did she have any?”

“She said the distance wasn’t worth it anymore.” Quinn trails off and Clementine puts it together, her heart breaking for him as she finishes the thought for him. 

That Quinn wasn’t worth it anymore. 

Clementine grinds her teeth together. “Fuck her,” she says. “I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, but I’m serious. What the fuck? She just suddenly decided that after dating for over a year that she couldn’t do it anymore?”

“Yeah. I’m confused about that too. When she was talking and explaining her reasoning over the phone I was just, like, shell-shocked. I think I froze. She was bringing up things that she hadn’t ever brought up before and I don’t know, it just felt like she had made the decision to break up with me before I even picked up the phone. It wouldn’t have mattered what I said.”

“That’s shitty, Quinny. How unfair.”

“I mean,” she knows he’s shrugging on the other side of the phone. She wishes she could hug him. “I know I wasn’t the perfect boyfriend and there were underlying issues, but I-I tried my best.”

“I know, Quinn. I know,” Clementine sighs. How do you comfort one of your best friends through heartbreak when you can’t actually be there? “Q, I’m so sorry. I have to head back to work, but I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Oh. That’s okay. You don’t have to. Thanks for listening anyways.”

“I’ll call you back tonight. I promise. I love you. Hang in there.”

“Thanks, Clem. Love you too.”

Clementine manages to do one thing she does very well, which is push something out of her mind and focus on the task at hand. The second she clocks out of the hospital, on her commute back to Hoboken, she thinks through how she wants to talk this through with Quinn. It’s not her first time talking someone through a break-up, so she’s learned a few tricks and phrases here and there. Like most things, it just comes with repetition.  

But this is also Quinn. Her best friend. All her previous experience might not work and might not even matter.

She calls him as soon as she finishes her shower. She lets him talk for over two hours to the point where she has to adjust her position on the couch to be near an outlet so her phone can charge. 

There’s nothing really to say in a situation like this, as Quinn details what sounds a lot like heartbreak. She wishes she was in Michigan and could give him the tightest hug. Watching and hearing his sniffles through the phone has her throat closing up and all she can do is listen.

But as she climbs into her bed that night, she lets out a breath. She’s sure it hurts so much now, but Quinn will find a way. 

He always does. 

…..

Clementine’s phone reads 6:28 a.m. local time when she lands in Zurich. She yawns as she watches the plane taxi to their gate, Taylor Swift’s “august” playing softly in her ears. Somehow, the two seats next to her were empty so she had her own row the whole flight, meaning she got to go up and pee without bothering a single person. 

She turns on her phone, and texts the chat with the Hughes / Sandoval families that she’s landed, before thumbing over to her thread with Nico. He sent a text eight minutes ago. 

Nico Hischier 

At the arrivals area. Can’t wait to see you ❤️

Clementine Sandoval 

just landed!!! can’t wait to squeeze you 

Immigration and customs goes quickly, even if Clementine finds herself tapping her foot in line. She can already feel the heat of the Switzerland summer air seeping into her skin and she tugs off her sweatshirt, happy that she has a t-shirt underneath. Once she grabs her luggage from the carousel, she takes a deep breath, wheeling her suitcase through to the arrivals hall. Her eyes dart around to try and spot her boyfriend. It doesn’t take long. 

The grin spreads on her face when she sees Nico. He’s wearing an olive green t-shirt that’s seen better days and dark jeans topped off with those scuffed up Nikes that he always seems to wear. 

He’s holding a bouquet of wildflowers wrapped in newspaper, the sweetest smile peeking over. Clementine feels her heart threatening to burst out of her chest. 

She almost knocks her suitcase over as she throws her arms around him. She feels him chuckle and place a kiss on the side of her head. “Hi Schätzli,” he says softly. 

“Hi,” she pulls back and kisses him. But they’re both grinning too much to kiss properly. She holds his cheeks in her hand, happy to just be around him after a month. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you more,” he grins. “You look so beautiful.”

Clementine snorts because her Stanford t-shirt tied with her hair tie in the front and the black leggings with her Adidas definitely scream ‘I’ve been on a transatlantic flight and I need to shower.’

“I look like I just was on a plane for 8 hours,” she says dryly. 

“Beautiful,” Nico says firmly as he takes the backpack off her shoulders and grabs her suitcase, giving her the flowers to hold. “For you”

She sniffs the flowers and smiles. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me these. They’re so pretty.”

“You’re so pretty,” he replies simply. That’s twice in 30 seconds. He turns to look at her again as they walk out to the parking lot. “I’m so happy you’re here.” 

“Thank you for driving all this way. I know it’s early and far.”

“Of course. I just want to see you.”

It doesn’t feel like it’s been a month as Nico starts the drive to Bern to his sister’s place where they’re staying for a few days. The sun’s high in the sky despite the early hour, and Clementine happily sips on the coffee and munches on the croissant Nico had graciously gotten her. They catch up on each other’s weeks like they have been over the phone when they’ve been almost 4,000 miles apart. They talk about the teenager who recognized Nico the other day when Nico and his friends were playing a game of pick-up soccer and how they all played until sundown and Clementine having to step in to assist in a higher than average number of surgeries the last month, as well as having to work the Fourth of July. She holds his hand the entire time and both of them can’t seem to stop the smile from spreading across their lips. 

She’s here. In the most beautiful country. With the most wonderful person. 

“How are you feeling?” Nico asks. “Are you really tired?”

“I’m okay.” She yawns. “Even if I am, I’m not sleeping until at least 9 tonight. I’m not wasting time here by being jetlagged and sleeping at weird times.”

Nico laughs. “Fair. But it’s okay if you’re tired for a few days. I always am.”

“No wasted time,” she says, poking his shoulder on every word. 

“If you say so,” he grins. “My mom’s making a huge breakfast for us when we get back and everyone’s excited to meet you.”

Suddenly, Clementine is nervous again. “She didn’t have to do that.”

“She wanted to,” he assures. “I haven’t brought a girl back home in…ever, really. They’re probably more excited to meet you than you are to meet them.”

“No pressure at all,” she says dryly. 

He looks over at her and squeezes her hand. “You’ll win them over in minutes.” Clementine hums before Nico continues. “If Jack could somehow have them all liking him in a day, you’re gonna be perfectly fine. You’re all the best parts of him and more anyways.” She reaches over to fix a strand of his hair and she wants to smirk at the light blush that paints his cheeks. He clears his throat, “I was thinking of taking it easy today, just walking around the town and exploring the area a bit. And then dinner at my favorite place in town?”

“Sounds perfect to me.” 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says breathily. “I, just…I can’t believe it.”

She grins, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Well believe it, pretty boy.”

(His stomach flips at being called ‘pretty boy.’ She hasn’t said that one yet. Two months after they’ve officially started dating and he still feels like a teenage boy with the biggest crush on the prettiest girl in school)

They pull up to Nina’s place and Clementine feels like she’s in a dream. Bern is beautiful everywhere you look. It’s almost like she’s in a picture book of a fairytale. She stretches and rises on her tiptoes to kiss Nico on the cheek to thank him for grabbing her luggage. She tugs at his t-shirt and he stops to turn to her, momentarily confused. She just wrap her arms around his waist again, wanting to feel him before they’re surrounded by his family. He chuckles, rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head three times. 

As they’re walking up the steps to the front door, it swings open as Katja, Nico’s mother, beams. “You guys made it! Hello!”

Clementine can’t help but smile back. “Hi,” she shifts the flowers so that she can shake Katja’s hand, but Katja doesn’t bother and just wraps her into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Hischier. Thank you so much for having me.”

“Thank you for coming all this way,” Katja’s eyes shift to Nico, who’s a few steps behind with Clementine’s luggage. “Nico tells us good things.”

She chuckles and ducks her head. “I think your son is a bit too nice to me.”

“Ignore her, Mama,” Nico says as they all walk into the house. “The only person who doesn’t know she’s the best is herself.” 

There’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Clementine’s met immediately with Nina’s smile. It’s the exact same as her mother and her brother’s and she is absolutely stunning. Luca is behind his sister as well with a matching grin. And Rino, who Clementine suddenly realizes is where Nico gets so many of his facial features from, just stands to the side with a small smile. 

“You’re here!” Nina exclaims. Nico says something quick in Swiss German which Nina rolls her eyes at before she pulls Clementine into a tight hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Clementine. We’ve heard so much.”

“Yeah,” Luca echoes. “I’ve never seen Nico so excited about someone.”

Nico groans and Clementine hugs Luca with a giggle before nudging her boyfriend. “He’s not so bad either.” She turns to shake Rino’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hischier. Thank you for having me.” Rino shakes her hand with a warm smile before Nico pinches her side and pulls her closer. 

“Okay, breakfast is almost ready!” Katja claps her hands. “Nico, why don’t you show Clementine to your room? Luca and Nina, come help me finish up. Oh! I can take those flowers from you. Did Nico get you those?”

Clementine giggles as she hands them over. “He did.”

Katja pats Nico’s cheek in such a motherly way that it makes Clementine’s heart ache in the best way. “I did raise a sweet one.”

Nico groans. “Mama.” Clementine makes eye contact with Nina and they both burst out laughing. “Come on. You can take a quick shower and then we’ll come back down.”

Clementine shoots a quick grin at Katja, Rino, Nina and Luca before following Nico upstairs. She decides to jump into the shower quickly and rinse off, partially to wake her up, mostly to wash the grime of the plane off of her. Nico’s sitting on the bed scrolling through her phone when she comes back out, hair wet and dressed in a light sweater and linen shorts. 

“The fact that there’s a window in the shower looking over the mountains is so unfair,” she says, combing her fingers through her wet hair. 

Nico chuckles. “Pretty, hey?”

“Very,” she yawns. “Come on. Don’t wanna leave your family waiting.”

Breakfast is absolutely delicious and filled with warm conversation, mainly filled with the Hischier family asking Clementine questions about herself, which she happily answers inbetween way too much bread, butter and coffee. Nico tries to intercept a few times (“This isn’t an interrogation, Luca”) but she just waves him off. It’s not like she likes talking about herself, but when being surrounded by people everyday who know the ins and outs of her career, it’s refreshing to have people take interest in what she does who don’t work in the medical field at all. 

After breakfast, Clementine and Nico venture into the town and Clementine is all smiles. The sun is out but it’s not too hot where she aches for shade like she does back in the US. She had changed into a dress after breakfast and doesn’t regret it, resisting the urge to twirl around the streets. It doesn’t hurt that Nico looks at her in a way that makes her giddy.

As they’re walking through the scenic old town, it’s obvious how relaxed Nico is. Away from New Jersey and the expectations that come with being the captain of the sole professional sports team from Garden State, Nico looks like every other guy in his mid twenties. It’s not like he isn’t happy in New Jersey, but there’s something freeing in the way he walks, his shoulders free from the weight he carries during the season. 

They walk in the sun leisurely, stop by a few shops that look interesting to Clementine and grab coffee and pastries from a cafe that Nico apparently frequents often, judging by how friendly he is with the staff. She hasn’t really gotten to hear Nico speak his native language that often so she enjoys hearing him switch so effortlessly.

“You look happy,” Nico comments as they’re taking a break and sitting on a bench to people watch. 

She tears her eyes away from an adorable family to meet Nico’s warm, brown eyes. “Do I?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I am. Are you?”

He presses a kiss to her temple and she leans her cheek against his shoulder. “Very much so.”

“Did I pass the test?” She teases. “Your family doesn't hate me?”

“Stop,” he says with a smile. “They love you. I can tell. I think my mom fell in love with you the second you talked about growing up with the boys.”

“Really?”

“She has a soft spot for sibling relationships. She always tells us how she’s glad me, Luca and Nina get along so well.”

“They’re great, by the way, your family,” she says. “Much less chaotic than mine, which is definitely a good thing. But really, really cool. I…” She trails off at the sight of a stray soccer ball. 

Nico’s eyebrows furrow before he follows her eyeline. He chuckles and gets up, holding out a hand for her. “Come on. Let’s do some passing.”

She lights up at the idea of passing around a ball with the mountains in the background on a fairly large, grassy area. The most picturesque image you could find, she thinks. She takes his hand and scurries over, getting her feet familiar with the ball as he backs away a few feet. 

They start some basic passing as they’re mindful of the fact that she’s wearing a dress. Clementine never saw soccer as more than a form of exercise in her youth, but she sometimes wishes she had time to join a rec league or something of that level in college and afterwards. The few people she keeps in touch with still in Toronto are mostly thanks to her club soccer days. 

She’s definitely rusty, but it’s good to go through the familiar motions again. She wrinkles her nose when Nico pulls off an impressive move. “This is unfair. Are you good at every sport?”

He just shrugs modestly, before passing the ball back to her. “I definitely don’t look at ease with this ball on my feet like you do. How long did you play for?”

“Like, over 10 years?” She executes some footwork and smiles in satisfaction. “Played pretty intensely all the way up until I was 18.”

“I can tell,” he smiles. “My dad would be impressed.”

She snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. I was never good enough to play at the collegiate level, much less professional.”

“It’s interesting that you do that.”

She stops the ball with her foot. “Do what?”

“Downplay your achievements.”

Clementine blinks a few times. “What do you mean?” But she knows exactly what he means. 

Nico lets out a light snort, “You know what I mean. You’re probably the smartest and most interesting and talented person I’ve ever met. Even when you were talking to my family about your residency, you were talking about it like it isn’t a big deal. But it is a big deal. And it’s really fucking cool. And you’re so smart and quick and…I don’t know. I wish you would show off more, even though I know that’s not your style.”

She smirks. “You want me to show off?” Without waiting for an answer, she concentrates on the ball at her feet and looks up at the goal. She dribbles the ball a few seconds before striking it in the top right corner. She huffs, satisfied that she didn’t whiff it, laughing as Nico tackles her and lifts her up in a hug. 

The next two days are spent in Bern, as Clementine fights the jetlag while her camera roll fills up. The Hischier siblings bring her around and she just soaks up the sunshine, views, and attractions. She especially loves flowing down the river on boats like the most seamless lazy river that just runs through the city, because you can’t really get that in the US. Nico continues bringing her around to his favorite hidden spots and to his favorite shops and restaurants, all with his hand in hers and the most beautiful smile on his face. 

After Clementine says goodbye to Katja and Rino, the four of them take two cars to Zurich, Luca and Nina staying with friends while her and Nico rent out their own place. They arrive at a beautiful, spacious apartment that overlooks the center of Zurich. Clementine’s birthday is tomorrow and she has no idea what the plan is because she trusted Nico when he said he would handle it, but she’s a planner, so she can’t help but bring it up as they’re relaxing before heading out for dinner.

“Nico?”

“Yeah?” He calls out from the bathroom. 

“Can you give me a hint on what we’re doing tomorrow?”

He peeks his head out of the bathroom with a smile. “I was wondering when you were gonna ask.”

She shrugs. “I trust you. But you know I’m nosy.”

Nico chuckles. “Yeah,” he comes out of the bathroom and takes his phone out of his pocket. Once unlocked, he tosses it at her. He’s lucky she has okay reflexes. 

She raises an eyebrow at him before looking at his phone. Immediately, she gasps and drops the phone as it lands on the carpet on the floor. “Nico.”

“Yeah?”

“Nico,” she repeats, breathless. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Taylor Swift? How long have you had these? How did you even get them?”

He comes over to sit on the arm of the sofa. “Nina’s a big fan. When you said you were gonna coming here for your birthday, she mentioned that Taylor Swift was gonna be in town at the same time. I pulled a few strings.”

She picks up the phone and swipes through the tickets, shellshocked. “Seven tickets?”

“Me, you, Nina, one of her friends, Luca and two of his friends. I guess they’re all kind of my friends too. I hope that’s okay?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed worriedly. 

“Nico, shut up. I’m gonna see my favorite artist live and I wanna meet your friends. Of course it’s okay,” she tackles him onto the couch as he laughs. “I-I can’t believe…thank you. Oh my god.”

“Good birthday present?” He jokes. 

She kisses him fondly. “I don’t know how I’m gonna beat this for yours.”

“Stop,” he murmurs, deepening the kiss. “I’m supposed to ask you if you have something to wear and if not, that you and Nina can find something tonight or tomorrow morning.”

She thinks of the light pink sequin dress she had thrown into her suitcase last minute, grateful for her past self’s decision. “I think I have something, but if I see something when we’re walking around later, I’ll let you know.” She holds his face in her hands. “Thank you. Seriously. First the whole trip and then this. I’ll pay you back for the tickets as-”

“No you won’t,” he says against her lips. She pulls back and gives him an unimpressed look. “I barely paid for them. It would be unfair to ask you to. It’s your birthday. It’s my present to you.”

Let other people do things for you for once, Clem, Quinn’s voice echoes through her head. He’s said multiple iterations of it throughout the years, but this one in particular she can envision, at dinner right after the Canucks played San Jose back in her Stanford days. That was about something simpler — arguing over who was paying for dinner — but the sentiment remains the same. 

“Fine. But I’m paying for everyone’s dinner tonight.”

“Of course,” he beams. 

“I mean it,” she warns. 

“I know.”

She slaps his shoulder with a smile. “You fucker. I can’t believe you got those tickets.”

“27 is gonna be a good year, hey?”

She launches herself into his arms. 

Yeah, it is.

…..

Clementine wakes up on her birthday to Nico pressing kisses all over her face as she squeals and wiggles around. She stretches and her arm whacks him in the face, causing him to groan. She kisses him as an apology. 

“Happy birthday, honey,” he says, hovering over her with a light smile. “I can hear your bones cracking already.”

“I will push you off the bed.”

“Empty threats.”

She yawns. “How much time before everyone gets here?”

“Like, two hours? Why?”

“Perfect,” she says, pulling him closer to kiss him feverishly. He lets out a soft moan and she melts into a puddle

An hour and a half later, Clementine fiddles with the coffee maker in the kitchen as everyone starts filing in. Nina is first to bounce over and gives Clementine a big hug, wishing her a happy birthday. She meets their friends and glares at Luca as he places a large bag on the table with tissue paper peeking out of it. She doesn’t need birthday presents. But it’s sweet they thought of her anyways. 

After lunch at a nearby outdoor cafe that Clementine falls in love with, everyone heads back. The guys venture out to the balcony while she, Nina and Anika, Nina’s friend, quickly make some friendship bracelets and start getting ready. Clementine’s almost done curling Nina’s hair when Nico peeks his head in, lighting up at the open box of beads on the table. He scurries in to grab the supplies and takes them outside without a word.

Anika, who’s been doing Nina’s makeup while Clementine’s been doing her hair, grins. “You two are cute together.”

“Oh, thank you.” Clementine looks up to flash a quick smile before focusing on not burning Nina or herself. 

“I’ve known Nico since he was a baby,” Anika says. “Always the younger one, he was chasing us all the time. Wanted to do everything we were doing. But it was Nico and he was so sweet, so we never said no.”

Clementine chuckles. “Yeah, I get that feeling. Not that my brothers necessarily wanted to do everything I did, but they were never far behind me when we were young.”

“Right,” Anika dabs the liquid blush on Nina’s cheeks. “That’s how you and Nico met, right? Your brothers play with him in New Jersey?”

“Yeah.”

Clementine’s taken aback tone must show because Nina smiles at her through the mirror. “My brother has talked about you quite a bit since he’s come back.”

That makes Clementine look down a bit abashed. “I guess they aren’t technically my brothers,” she clarifies. “I just grew up with them.”

“So like me and Nina here.”

“Yeah. Exactly like that.”

“Do you play hockey?” Anika asks, stepping back as she finishes Nina’s makeup. 

Clementine snorts, spraying hairspray into Nina’s hair. “No. You do not want to see me on skates. I played soccer. Or football, I guess.”

“But you enjoy watching it?” 

The conversation momentarily pauses as Clementine is ushered into the hot seat. Nina unplugs the curler and plugs in the straightener (“I want to try something”) as Anika takes a look at Clementine’s makeup products. 

“I do,” Clementine says. “Enjoy watching hockey, I mean. I don’t know if that would be the same if I wasn’t so closely connected with the sport personally, but I do enjoy it. It’s more comforting now than anything.”

“I still remember the day Nico got drafted,” Nina says wistfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

“And I remember everyone here staying up to watch it,” Anika adds. “There were people piling into the streets after in celebration.”

Clementine grins. “Yeah, I get that. I still remember Quinn, Jack and Luke’s draft days. It’s an extremely weird moment. Like, it’s wonderful of course, but also strange?”

“That makes sense,” Nina says. “It’s really cool to see how things have turned out since then, but it’s an interesting moment for sure. Especially when you remember Nico, or in your case, Quinn, Jack and Luke, as little boys just being little boys.”

“Nico’s really happy with you, I can tell,” Anika says. “And I don’t just say that to say that. His smile looks lighter. Freer.”

“I think that just might be because he’s home.”

“It’s because of you,” Nina says in a tone that leaves room for no argument. 

When she slips into her pink dress and puts the bracelets on her wrist as they’re about to head out, it hits her what’s really about to happen. She’s about to see her favorite artist. She still remembers being gifted a CD of Taylor’s debut album from her father, Teardrops On My Guitar on repeat. After the Eras Tour sold out in seconds and the resale tickets were way too high, she lost hope on ever seeing Taylor on tour, at least this go-around. 

She walks down the stairs and the first thing she sees is Nico. Dressed up in a light pink button up with khaki shorts, a backwards hat placed on his head, laughter etched in the lines on his face as he converses with his friends and siblings in his native language, she swallows. He looks up as she reaches the last step and his smile turns softer. Nina’s previous words echo her mind as she easily presses against his side. 

Clementine wrinkles her nose as she looks up at him. “You really do love your hats.”

“You don’t?”

“They’re fine. I just like your hair more.” Without argument, he takes his hat off and tosses it on a nearby couch. She gives him a look but he just kisses the top of her head. 

The closer they reach Letzigrund, a football stadium, Luca had said, she marvels at how large it is. She’s been to large concerts before, but as they park and make their way through the gates, she’s taken aback. Nico gently tugs their hands so she doesn’t get lost in the ground as they go find their seats. Turns out Nico pulling a few strings means tickets on the floor, not too close to the action where they would get pushed but at a vantage point where they’re in the center and can see everything. She turns to look at him bewildered and he just shrugs, a wry smile playing at his lips.

She pokes him. “Best birthday present ever.”

He takes a sip of his beer casually. “I’m glad. You know I prepared for this.”

“How?”

“I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift non-stop the last month.”

“I know we haven’t been dating for a long time, but all I do is play Taylor Swift.”

“True. But I didn’t realize how many songs she actually has. And you’re probably gonna know all of them.”

“Probably,” she admits. She’s definitely the biggest fan among the group right along with Anika. “But you don’t have to know all of them to have a good time.”

“I know. I heard she puts on a good show.” They watch Yannis, one of their friends, exchange bracelets with a stranger before Nico nudges her lightly. “I’m also just, I don’t know, excited because you’re excited.”

She snorts. “You’re a sap.”

What she wants to say, really, is “I love you.” But she refrains. 

Throughout the whole concert — which in itself is a highlight of her life and something she won’t ever forget — Clementine wants to tell him she loves him. When Taylor appears in her colorful, sparkly bodysuit and sings ‘Lover’ while Nico’s arms find their way around her waist as he’s standing behind her swaying them lightly, she wants to tell him. When she, Nina and Anika loop their arms around each other screaming ‘You Belong With Me’ and he simply points his phone at them with a laugh, she wants to tell him. Right before the bridge of ‘Champagne Problems,’ when he whispers a soft “wow,” eyes glued on Taylor on stage as she sings one of Clementine’s favorite songs of hers, she wants to tell him. When he quickly leaves and comes back in the middle of ‘Delicate’ with a beer for her and a water for them to share, she wants to tell him. 

When ‘Long Live’ comes on and she sees his eyes light up in recognition, before he pulls his phone out to record the end — her favorite part and the fact that he knows that is something in itself  — she wants to tell him. When he and the boys scream ‘22’ so incredibly out of tune and she can’t stop laughing, she wants to tell him. When she fully loses her voice screaming out ‘Illicit Affairs’ and he can’t hide his grimace at his eardrums bursting, she wants to tell him. As they both watch Anika practically collapse when the opening notes of ‘Style’ ring out — she had come into the concert blind to the setlist somehow — and Clementine can’t help but shake her hips while singing along, she wants to tell him. 

When he presses a kiss on her temple multiple times during the surprise songs as she is tearing up, she wants to tell him. When Taylor closes out the show with ‘Karma’ and Nico is visibly in awe of all the colors, fireworks, confetti and overall grand finale, she wants to tell him. 

She leans into his side as they walk to their cars. She loves him. They bid farewell to everyone. She loves him. When they get back to their place, they decide to rinse off the sweat and grime together and he gently rubs massages shampoo into her hair. She loves him. 

As Nico falls fast asleep next to her, arm wrapped securely around her waist, she’s about to lock her phone when she sees that she has a few text messages. They’re from Nina, who has already speedily downloaded the pictures she took on her digital camera from tonight. She thumbs through them quickly, smiling at all of them. 

She stops at one of her and Nico taken before the show in front of the stage. They’re both not looking at the camera but at each other. She’s in the middle of talking — about what, she can’t remember — as Nico is just smiling at her. 

She looks down at the sleeping man next to her. She loves him so fucking much. 

…..

(She does end up telling Nico that she loves him a few days later, as they’re weaving through a farmer’s market in Lucerne, him carrying the bags filled with fresh vegetables and other groceries that they’re using to make dinner tonight.  She thinks he doesn't hear her at first, but he tugs them towards the side and drops the bags so he can cup her face in his hands and kiss her. 

“You love me?” He murmurs. 

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I-I know it’s soon and you don’t have to say it back-”

He shakes his head with a grin, “Shut up.” He kisses her again. “I love you, Schatz.”

“Really?” She swallows. “You’re not just saying that?”

“I love you,” he repeats firmly. “I adore you, if we’re gonna be honest. You’re getting really close to be one of the best things that Jersey has brought me.”

“Well, now you’re just being stupid. How about, oh I don’t know, your entire career?”

He picks up their bags again, tossing an arm over her shoulder. “One of the best. Love you.”

She lets out a happy sigh, momentarily leaning her head on his shoulder as the sun hits their skin)

…..

The Switzerland tour is wrapped up in the best way, in Nico’s hometown of Naters, right by the mountains. Seriously, how is one country allowed to be this beautiful? She gets to hear the stories that litter these streets, the memories associated with the air interlacing with the wind, from a man who she loves and loves her. She tries not to think about how this is the last moments they’ll have until he comes back to New Jersey in September. 

The night before she takes off, they go out to dinner at a fancy enough place that Clementine’s pulling out one of her more formal dresses. The candlelight illuminates Nico reverently, his brown eyes not tearing away from her for more than 15 seconds the whole night. The attention would be overwhelming, but Clementine just lets herself sink into it. 

This feeling of being loved like this? It’s new. And she’s fully aware that it’s fragile and it could crumble any minute. But not right now. Not with Nico looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. 

When he drops her off at Zurich airport the next day, she hugs him for a full minute. She doesn’t cry, but there’s a pull at her heart that plants the silly idea of staying here forever just so that she doesn’t have to leave him. But she pulls away, kisses him one more time, runs a hand through his hair, before grabbing her things and walking through the automatic doors. 

…..

Clementine’s about to take a shower when she hears a key click into place. Seconds later, she’s sandwiched between Jack and Luke, uncontrollably laughing. She’s missed them dearly. 

Luke smacks a kiss on her cheek. Jack ruffles her hair. She scolds them about leaving their bags in the front door where anyone could trip on them. 

They’re back for another season, albeit a bit early to spend their last few summer days in the city. Nico lands tomorrow. Her Google Calendar has been synched with the Devils and Canucks game schedules.

Suddenly, the heat wave that’s hit New York / New Jersey doesn’t feel so constricting anymore.

…..

She might’ve had to bribe Ben to switch shifts with her, but there was no way she was gonna miss the home opener. Even if she’s extremely tired.

Clementine somehow makes it home before Jack and Luke are due to be at the rink earlier than normal for the carpet and other things. They’re both dressed and ready to head out. It’s a reminder that if Clementine sits on her couch for even 5 minutes, she will fall asleep. So she shouldn’t do that. 

Not even a minute after she shut the front door, there’s a knock. Jack calls out that it’s open and Nico walks in. 

If this were a few months ago, Clementine would blame just getting back from a long day of work for her eyes literally popping open. But it’s not, and she calls the man who walked through the door her boyfriend. Yet here she is, in her scrubs with her messy ponytail and smelling of hospital, just staring.

Holy. Shit. Nico looks hot. Which, like, yeah, he always does. Clementine is well aware that her boyfriend is a very attractive man. But something about the new green three piece suit that she had helped him pick out over FaceTime when he was still in Switzerland and his hair and the overall look has her literally speechless. 

Luke, like the bitch he is, takes note and just laughs. “Cat got your tongue, Clemmy?”

She finds her voice. “Fuck off.” 

Nico just smirks as he hugs Jack and Luke before walking over to give her a peck, “Hi.”

“Absolutely not,” she backs away when Nico reaches for a hug. He pouts but she shakes her head. “I just worked for 12 hours in a hospital. You do not want to hug me.” 

“Of course I want to hug you. I love you.” 

Somewhere behind them, she hears a gag. Gags, actually. She sticks out her middle finger behind her back before leaning in to give him another kiss. “I’ll hug you after the game when I’m clean.” He ignores her and just smothers her in a hug as she squeals. He presses exaggerated kisses all over her face as she tries to slither out of his hold. “Stop!” She breathes out in between laughs. “I’m literally so gross.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Can you two not?” Luke deadpans. 

The couple both roll their eyes. “This is nothing,” Clementine retorts. 

“I know, which makes it worse.”

Jack snorts as he grabs his water bottle and keys. “You two ready to go? We’re cutting it close.”

“Yeah,” Nico tosses Jack his eyes. “You guys go down first. I’ll be a second.”

Jack looks between his captain and sister with a subtle glare. “Five minutes.”

“We are older than you,” Clementine retorts. Jack rolls his eyes before exaggeratedly blowing a kiss to Clementine. She scoffs but blows him and Luke a kiss as they walk out the front door. “They’re annoying.”

Nico chuckles, before brushing a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. “How was your day?”

“Fucking brilliant,” she deadpans. “You can’t tell by my messy hair and eye bags?”

His eyebrows furrow. “If you’re too tired to come to the game, you don’t-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence. I’m not missing the home opener. Are you insane? I’ll be good after a shower and a beer or two.” She places her hands and gently straightens his jacket into place. “You look incredibly hot.”

“Yeah?”

She kisses the smirk off his face. “Oh please. Like you don’t know.”

“It’s a good ego boost hearing that from the person’s opinion I care about the most.”

She gently brushes her hand through his hair. “I’m a very lucky woman.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he presses one last kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you after?”

She tilts her head to the side and pouts a bit. “Thought I was going home with you after no matter what, Captain.”

Nico’s eyes darken the slightest bit. Bingo. “Careful, baby.”

Clementine shrugs nonchalantly. “Have fun. Maybe score a goal or two for me?”

“What do I get if I do?”

“Careful, baby,” she echoes with a smirk. “You should head out before Jack and Luke storm back in here. And you know they will.”

He groans. “You ruined the moment.”

She chuckles, gently shoving him back. “Good luck. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

…..

It’s not like anything is wrong, perse. 

Clementine doesn’t often get into her overthinking moods. Frankly, she doesn’t have time for it. Since she was 18, it was study hard, let herself be dragged out once in awhile by her friends away from the books, listen to her own gut when it told her she actually needed a break, feel herself falling more in love with medicine and patients and caring for them, rinse and repeat. She’s 27 now, and the contours of that thinking have adjusted to whatever moment she’s in, but her core is still the same. 

But when she finds herself in these overthinking moods, it consumes her. Her mom once told her it causes her to think irrationally, and Clementine had snapped back, even though deep down, she knew it was true. 

These overthinking moods could be about anything, and have been about anything. From grades, to the overwhelming ache of missing her father, to questioning if the path she’s worked so hard for is worth it, to questioning if going to California for eight years and away from everyone was the best choice or just the convenient excuse she could use when in reality, she was running from her problems. From watching Quinn, Jack and Luke from right next to them but also from so, so far away, to making sure her mother still enjoys and loves life even though it’s been almost ten years since she lost her partner, to her own self worth and if she’s as good of a person that everyone always tells her she is and how that can be true if sometimes she feels like she’s grasping at straws. 

The point is, Clementine knows herself well enough to know when one of these moods is coming. 

It hits her full force on her commute the way to the hospital, because of course it does. Last night had been really fun with the season home opener. She sat with all the significant others for the first time and the vibe was high. When Nico had scored, the girls had all cheered and pointed to her as she finished off a beer. Some of the fans had given her high fives and maybe had caught on, she thinks, especially because she was wearing a 13 jersey and Nico had pointed in her direction after he scored. But Devils fans are also just really nice, so it also could’ve been nothing. 

She already had a lot of the other women’s phone numbers from last year’s Friendsgiving, but she was officially added into the group chat because she’s not just Jack and Luke’s pseudo-sister who lives with them anymore. She’s also the captain’s girlfriend. 

Something about that has her mind racing this morning as she watches the streets of New York City at 7:29 a.m. outside the bus window. Now she’s thinking about whether she should be doing more because of that title. In the grand scheme of things, her and Nico haven’t been dating for that long. Realistically, she knows no one is expecting her to do anything more. She venmoed Nicole immediately yesterday when she had casually mentioned the money pool all the significant others have for various things like events, gifts and other things. But should Clementine be the one spearheading that because her boyfriend’s the captain? She just got here. She has no fucking idea.

She always thought being surrounded by hockey her whole life would help her in most of these situations. Not this one. 

When the time comes — if the time comes and her and Nico even last as long as she wants to — and off-season comes back around, is he gonna expect her to spend it in Switzerland with him? Obviously, that didn’t happen this summer because they had literally just started dating, but what about the future? She wouldn’t ever ask him to move his training closer to her, but how would off-seasons work in different countries when the regular season is already crazy enough?  She knows All-Star breaks and off-season vacations are a thing, but with her inflexible work schedule, how is all that going to work? Will he be upset that she probably won’t be able to join him? What if, somehow, Nico is traded to another team? Clementine’s home for the next four years is going to be New Jersey / New York. And then, vice versa, what happens if her future leads her to yet another part of the country?

Yeah, she’s majorly overthinking now. 

Usually, she would talk to someone about it, but in a rare instance, her mind comes up blank. Her mom and Ellen would just tell her to slow down and that she’s being silly. Emilia and her other friends at the hospital would listen, but wouldn't really get it. The other significant others are nice, but she doesn’t feel particularly close enough with any of them yet to voice her intrusive thoughts. No way is she talking to Quinn, Jack or Luke about this. 

That would leave Nico. But there’s something about that that feels off too. 

She’s also been told multiple times that she can’t keep things to herself. And she really does think she’s gotten better at it throughout the years. But old habits die hard. So she also does something she’s really good at. Putting it all away the second she walks into the hospital 

The next time she thinks about it is during a quick break she has inbetween patients, when she checks her phone and sees the notifications from the significant other group chat. Nothing important as she thumbs through quickly, but it still leaves her with a weird feeling in her stomach. 

And again, she wills those thoughts to go away as she steps back out into the hallway. 

The next few days, Clementine doesn’t see Nico much. She’s at the hospital and he’s busy with the new season starting and getting back into the swing of things, making sure his team is doing well on and off the ice and making sure new guys are acclimating. It’s nothing out of the ordinary — it’s not like she’s seeing Jack and Luke that much either while living with them. But she also knows deep down that it’s more than that. 

A week and a half after the season opener, Nico texts her to see if she wants to come over to his after her shift and they can make dinner together. Despite whatever weird things she’s thinking, she says yes. It hits her like a brick that they haven’t seen each other since Nico kissed her goodnight after the season opener.

She can tell something is on his mind immediately, or maybe that he knows something is on her mind, but they both don’t mention it the whole night. Instead, they loosely follow a steak dinner recipe Nico found online and keep the topics light. 

But she can’t help but feel like something is off the whole night. Clementine knows she should ask him. Talk to him about it. 

She doesn’t. 

Her stomach remains in weird knots for the next few days when she lets herself think even for a second about her boyfriend, who’s supposed to be the person she can talk to these things about, right? Clementine’s a bit out of practice — it’s been over three years since she’s had anything sembling a relationship — but goddamn, she doesn’t think this is normal. 

But she doesn’t want to burden Nico. He’s already overwhelmed enough with everything on his plate. She can see the wheels constantly turning in his mind. She doesn’t want to add onto that. 

So, Clementine avoids. 

…..

More patients. More long hours. The Devils first road trip. She should’ve known the people she lives with would pick up on something sooner than later.

“Are you and Schao fighting?”

Clementine has no idea where that nickname came from and has never asked. Hockey players are weird creatures, the nicknames they give their teammates included. 

She keeps her head down, putting the chicken pot pies in the oven. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I asked if he wanted to come by for dinner and he made some shitty excuse about calling his family or something.”

“Calling family is not a shitty excuse,” Clementine says automatically. Her back is towards them, but she knows Luke always beelines directly towards the bathroom to rinse off right after practice. So Jack’s the one who’s dropping their bags loudly on the floor. “Bags against the wall, Jacky.”

He grumbles and Clementine smirks to herself in satisfaction as she hears Jack move the bags. “So? Trouble in paradise?”

“None of your business.”

“Dude.”

“I mean it. None of your business.”

She doesn’t exactly snap — somehow, Quinn, Jack and Luke have never annoyed her enough to make her want to — but it’s something close to it. Silence, and then she hears Jack rounding the kitchen island. He tugs at her arm. “Do I need to beat him up? I know he’s my captain or whatever, but I will.”

“Absolutely not.” She finally makes eye contact with him and is taken aback at how serious Jack looks. “I’m not fucking with your team chemistry.”

“Who cares about team chemistry?” Jack asks, watching as she stirs the glazed carrots. “You’re my sister. So I’ll ask again. Do I need to whoop his ass?”

She sighs, leaning her hip against the counter. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugs. “There’s nothing much to it. Just a bump in the road, I guess.”

“About?” Jack presses lightly. 

Clementine bites her lip. One part of her is telling her that she shouldn’t talk to Jack — or Luke — about her relationship troubles simply due to the fact that Nico’s their captain and friend and teammate and rock and all of that. But the other part of her does want to finally talk to someone. “I think we’re trying to figure out how to be together with both our busy schedules and it’s…tougher than we anticipated.”

Jack hums, “I see.”

Despite herself, Clementine snorts. “I’m not getting relationship advice from my younger brother. I’m not stooping that low.”

“Lame,” Jack shoots back. “Your loss. I think I could give you some decent Nico advice. I’ve known him much longer than you have, you know.”

He does have a point. She watches him blow a piece of hair out of his face in thought. Then, Luke walks in with his damp hair. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Luke asks. 

“Nothing.”

“Nico.” She glares at Jack, who just shrugs with a smirk. 

Luke sits down across from her. “Oh wonderful. We’re talking about how miserable he’s been lately?”

Clementine busies herself by pouring him out a glass of water. “Nico’s been miserable?”

“Uh, yeah.” Luke says in a know-it-all voice that has her wanting to smack him on the head. “Besides, like, maybe a few smiles on the ice after a good play or game or whatever, he’s just had those sad eyes.”

Ah, yes. Those sad eyes. Clementine’s acquainted herself with those, even last season when they weren’t together. They come out after every loss. They’ve never come because of her. 

She shrugs, trying to be casual about it. She can feel Jack’s eyes narrowing and knows that his brain is moving. People don’t give Jack enough credit for how perceptive he can be. He tugs at her sleeve again, and Clementine sighs, lowering the flame so she can give him his full attention. 

“Do I need to talk to him?” Jack asks softly. “I don’t like seeing either of you sad.”

“Wait, hold on,” Luke interrupts. “You can’t talk to him if you don’t know what’s going on, Jacky.”

“No one is talking to anyone,” she says. “We just haven’t been able to see each other much lately. Or don’t want to. I don’t know.” 

“Clee.” Jack says flatly. 

She finally cracks, swallowing. “Obviously, I know what a season looks like. I mean, fuck, I lived with you two last year and I literally grew up with hockey all around me. I know it’s busy and I know he’s even busier because he’s captain or whatever. But shit, sometimes it feels like…I don’t know.”

“It feels like what?” Jack presses. 

She puts her head in her hands for a few moments before looking back up, squeezing her eyes together to keep the frustrated tears at bay. “Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t even want to be around me. Like we’re strangers or just friends or whatever”

“What?” Luke deadpans. “Clemmy, that’s…what?”

Jack throws his brother a dirty look. “Let her finish.”

“And it’s on me too,” she continues as if they hadn’t interrupted. “Like, yeah, he’s busy, but so am I. And I’ve been taking extra shifts and staying at the hospital to study longer because things are getting harder but, I don’t know. I guess now that we’re actually in the season it’s a whole other thing. I know I’m being unreasonable. Maybe I’m just not cut out for a relationship or whatever.”

She knows the last sentence is an intrusive thought. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t have some semblance of meaning.

“That’s stupid,” Jack says. Clementine looks up from the table to look at him sadly. He has a look of fire in his eyes. “The last part, I mean. Not cut out for a relationship? What does that even mean?”

“If that’s not it, what is?” She huffs out. “I just feel like, I’m losing him? Assuming that I had him in the first place, I guess.”

“Clementine,” Luke starts. He never calls her by her government name. “What are you talking about? That boy is head over heels for you. You’ve had him since the moment you two met, I’m pretty sure.”

“Have you guys talked about this?” Jack asks. “Like, actually sat down and talked about how you’re feeling and why you’re upset.”

“How can we talk when I don’t even know why I’m upset?”

“It doesn't need to be, like, extremely coherent. Even if it doesn’t come out pretty or whatever, at least he’d know and stop making assumptions. And as someone who knows Nico, he’s definitely doing that, but probably not talking to you about it because he thinks he’ll just burden you with it.”

Clementine groans. “That’s the crux of it, I think. We’re not talking about the things that matter. We should be able to do that. Because I also think I’m burdening him with my unnecessary problems.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Luke starts. “Cap’s miserable and you’re miserable because you’re not…talking to each other?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I sound like a dumbass.” She picks at her nails. “It’s also more than that. A lot of factors involved.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Jack promises. 

Clementine glares at him. “No. Stay out of it, Jacky. You too, Luke. I’m not putting you guys in the middle of our shit when you have to play with him.”

“I’m not gonna say anything bad,” Jack says. “You said that you feel like he doesn’t wanna talk to you, right? Which I know is a load of bullshit. He, again, probably just thinks he’s bothering you with his shit because that’s how Nico operates. He’s a great captain and will listen to anyone else’s problems, but thinks that no one wants to hear his, which, like you said, is stupid, especially when it comes down to you two. I’ll talk to him, Clee. Give him a little push. And then you two need to talk.”

She turns towards Luke — since when does she trust Luke enough to determine a good idea from a bad one? — who shrugs. “It wouldn’t hurt,” Luke says. “Jack has a way of getting through to Nico like no one else can.”

“Yeah, but that’s on ice stuff. This is off-ice stuff. And something that doesn't involve you guys.”

Jack lets out a little noise at that. “Hate to say it, but the second you guys started dating, we were already involved.”

She sighs. Because he’s right. Again. “I love him,” she says. 

“I know. And he loves you too. No one’s doubting that,” Jack says. The oven beeps and before she can move, Luke rushes to gather the pies. “I won’t overstep, I promise.” 

They let the topic go for the rest of dinner. 

…..

Clementine doesn’t even get the chance to fully swing open the door the next afternoon before Nico’s pulling her into a tight hug. She freezes for a few seconds before melting into his embrace, rubbing her thumbs against the back of his neck as he rests his head on her shoulder. He mumbles something and she asks him to repeat it. 

He straightens up, hands still wrapped around her and clears his throat. “I always want to be around you.”

She blinks, before sighing in realization. “Whatever Jack said, it’s-”

“It’s not about what he said,” Nico says, closing the door behind him. “Not entirely. He just…lit a fire up my ass a bit.”

“A bit too bluntly and with so little tact that would seem rude if it wasn’t coming from Jack?”

Nico snickers. “Yeah.” He calms down and looks at her seriously. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she responds automatically.

“No, I mean,” he pauses and swallows. Clementine knows his wheels are turning. Even after being in North America for almost a decade, sometimes his English fails him and it takes a few moments for him to formulate what he wants to say. “I love you. I always want to be around you. I want to hear about your days at the hospital and I want to kiss you after every win and to hug you after every loss. But most importantly, I want to hear about your thoughts and feelings about everything, and that includes us. I’m sorry that you haven’t felt comfortable to do that lately.”

Her heart lurches and she places her hands on his cheeks. She can’t take the sad, watery eyes. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. It’s alright. It’s on me too.”

He vehemently shakes his head, his hands reaching to wrap around her wrists. “No, it’s not. I-I’m the one with- you’ve given me so much control, with the season and everything, when you’re just as busy. Probably even busier than me. Shit, you’re literally a doctor. That’s nothing compared to what I do.” 

“Nico-“ 

“I know I need to work on communicating and letting people in. It’s been an issue my whole life. Just ask Nina. I, you know, the team is wonderful and supportive, but I still feel the need to not let them know too much about my struggles, you know? Because I’m supposed to be the leader. But you’re not part of the team. Not in that way. You’re my girlfriend. My best friend. And I need to work on talking things through with you instead of my instinct of shutting down or dealing with it myself.” 

Clementine blinks, taking it in. She’s always known Nico to be self aware, but this is a whole new level. 

He kisses her gently, before pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better. That’s a promise. You can come to me with anything, even if you don’t think it’ll be something I want to hear. You can trust me. Rely on me. I’ll prove it to you everyday.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” she says, rubbing his cheekbones with her thumbs. “Just…please talk to me? And I also need to work on doing that with you. I know we’re both busy and have our own separate lives-”

“You are a part of my life,” Nico assures. “A huge part. Like yeah, it’s separate with the fact that you have the hospital and your people there and I have hockey and the people there, but not really. We’re a team, right?”

She smiles at him repeating her words back to her face. She had said that once in their phone calls over the summer where she started rambling about how she’s always seen romantic relationships as more than just sweeping each other off their feet. ‘If the two people aren’t on the same team, then what’s the point? Then it’s just two people with a whole lot of feelings who never truly see each other eye to eye’ she had said. 

“Yeah. We’re a team. Since we’re a team, can I propose something?”

“Anything,” Nico rushes out. And it’s so nice to know for sure that he means it. 

“Can we try to do one night a week? Just for us? Unless you’re on a road trip or I have a weird shift schedule for some reason. Obviously, more would be great, but one at the bare minimum?”

Nico hums. “One guaranteed date night with you every week? I think I can manage.”

“You think?” she pokes his side. 

“It’s perfect,” he says with pure sincerity. “You’re perfect.”

She rolls her eyes. “Far from it.”

“False,” he beams, sneaking another kiss. Clementine’s heart feels the lightest it’s felt in weeks. “I can’t believe Jack was right.”

She snorts. “About? Jack’s never right.”

“I know,” he rolls his eyes, before looking at her in a way that makes butterflies flutter in her stomach. “But he was right this time.”

Oh. They’re not talking about the fight anymore. 

…..

(Clementine finally tells Nico everything that day about the overthinking — the tendencies and the topics she was overthinking about this time. He’s rubbing her knee as she talks about how she feels like she has to be setting an example or something because she’s dating him. She knows he wants to interrupt and assure her. She appreciates that he waits until she finishes. 

He reassures her, which is nice, but he realizes that that’s not necessarily what she needs. Clementine just needs someone to listen. And Nico thinks everything she says is always worth listening to. 

But Clementine also likes to be proactive and have tangible next steps, something she and him have in common. So they both come up with the first step: Clementine sends a text to Kristen Haula, who has a lot of experience of just … being the significant other to a professional athlete. Kristen responds quickly and kindly, asking when Clementine has a day off from work where she can come over and they can chat. 

It’s always a breath of relief knowing people want to help with problems that she thinks are stupid. Because they’re usually not stupid. Nico’s there to assure her of that. 

She goes to sleep that night with a smile.)

…..

That conversation is just the start. Because you can say all you want in a relationship, say you need to improve things, but until things are actually done, it doesn’t mean squat. 

She can tell there’s something on Nico’s mind, even in the short phone call as he’s heading to the rink before a game and she’s heading home from the hospital. Clementine asks multiple times if he’s sure he’s okay and he tells her he’s fine, so she lets it go, wishing him good luck and assuring him she’ll be watching. 

The Devils lose 5-1 to Vegas, and it’s so tough to watch that she almost wants to turn it off before it ends, especially after the camera pans to Nico’s face and Jack breaking his stick on the boards in frustration after the final buzzer sounds. A four game losing streak. 

After giving Jack and Luke extra long hugs, Luke burying his face into her shoulder and Jack clutching her t-shirt, she calls Nico as she’s climbing into bed.

“Hey baby.”

“Hi.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too much, okay? Are you back at your place?”

“Yeah. What are you doing awake?”

She swallows at his blunt tone. “I wanted to catch you afterwards.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Get some sleep.”

“Oh. Okay. Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

A rustle on his end. “I’m sure.”

“Want me to come by tomorrow morning? I don’t have to head in until the afternoon.”

Silence. “Yeah?” The raspy voice he’s gotten from yelling during the game momentarily makes her smile because she’s always found it so attractive. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” she thinks his voice softens. “Yeah. I’d love that.”

“Great. Goodnight, then. I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams. I love you.”

“Goodnight, Schätzli. I love you.”

The next morning, she punches in Nico’s code and walks in to him pouring out a cup of coffee for her. He’s dressed in his typical day off attire: a random t-shirt that she thinks looks unfairly good on him, gray sweatpants and his hair is all messed up. She paddles over to the kitchen.

From behind, she wraps her arms around his waist. “Hi baby.”

“Hey,” he turns in her arms to peck her lips. “You eat yet?” He asks. 

“Mmhmm.”

He hums, following her to the couch and sinking down right next to her. He tucks himself into the blanket with an involuntary hum, burying himself into the pillow, dragging her down so that she’s laying on his chest. She breathes in his scent and automatically smiles. She feels him physically relax. 

“How’s the hospital been?”

Clementine shrugs. “The usual.”

“Tell me more.”

She blinks. Oh, she realizes. And she then talks about random details of her week that don’t actually matter but she’s figured out that sometimes he just likes to listen to her voice. Whether to ground himself, get himself out of his own head or both. He hums in all the right places to show he’s listening, but she also doesn’t really need him to listen about the workplace drama of people having a theory that two of her coworkers are hooking up. 

There’s a lull in the conversation as she listens to his heartbeat. She thinks he might have fallen asleep. She doesn’t dare move to check.

“Eight.”

So he’s not asleep. She taps her fingers on his chest. “Hm?”r

“This is my eighth season in the league. Eighth in Jersey. And I have nothing to show for it.” She swallows. She debates sitting up so she can see him, but she stays still. He sighs. “I feel like we’re just never going to have a good start to the season, and it’s just like this every year and I’m not doing anything right. I can’t shoot. I can’t score. I can’t lead this team.” 

“Nico-“ 

“At this point, if we’re not the team that’s gonna get Jersey to the cup, then who is? It’s always been about potential and things falling into place and sometimes I feel like all of it has and then we end up falling short anyways.” He starts breathing faster and Clementine sits up, holding his hands. She can see the storm in his eyes. “Fuck, I’m the captain. Part of my job is to make sure this doesn’t happen and that when we gain momentum, that we don’t lose it. But it feels like we can’t even gain that momentum so we’re stuck in whatever the hell we’re stuck in. It’s starting to remind me of my first few seasons here, which really fucking sucks and just shouldn’t be where we’re at. Are the pieces ever going to come together like everyone has been saying it will?”

(In the back of her mind, Clementine’s stomach drops because Nico rarely swears, and he just dropped two f bombs in the last 15 seconds)

She squeezes his hands. “Nico. Please listen to me when I say this. It is not all on you. Captain or not, no one is expecting you to carry all of that on your shoulders.” He opens his mouth to counter but she’s quicker. “Nope. I don’t want to hear it. If I’ve learned anything from growing up with three hockey-playing brothers, is that hockey is a team sport. You win together. You lose together. Everything you go through? You go through together.”

“But I feel like I’m not doing anything right.”

“If any single one of your teammates heard you right now, I know they’d smack you in the face.” Clementine says bluntly. “Even before we were dating, from day one of training camp in Jack’s rookie year, when you didn’t even have the C yet, he was already raving to me about how good of a role model you were. You didn’t just get that C just because, Nico. You were and are the best option. I fully believe it. Your teammates respect you so much, baby. I see it with my own eyes every game. And they love and respect you enough to know that this is not all on you. You lead your team so beautifully. It is your team. And fuck the media and what they’re saying. Half of them can’t even hold a stick in their hand or skate. Literally who cares what they think? The outside noise is all bullshit anyways.” She rubs his cheekbones with her thumbs. “I know my words can’t fix the slump you guys are in. But I refuse to let you believe that any of this is entirely your fault. It is anything but. I refuse you to let you believe you’re anything but a good leader. You are the best leader. But you need to put less pressure on yourself over things that are out of your control.”

She lets her words wash over him, as he nods. One of her favorite things about him is that he’s always so expressive, especially in the domestic environment of his apartment under the maroon blanket she knitted him for Christmas. Here he is, not under any arena lights, just in his home away from home, trying to find some grounding. She places a kiss on his forehead and he practically falls into her touch.

“Everything about you always helps,” Nico whispers. “Thank you.”

“No need,” she smiles as his cheek rests on her stomach, arms wrapped around her waist in a tight embrace. “It’s okay to be frustrated and upset, honey. I get it. But you’re gonna drive yourself insane if you keep holding all this weight on your shoulders. Share it with others. Share it with your teammates. Share it with me. It’s what we’re here for.” Nico mutters something in German and she snorts. “English, please.”

“I don’t want to share it with you if it means I’m gonna explode and scare you. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

Clementine blinks, digesting that statement. She picks her words carefully. “It’s more than okay to show emotions. Any psychologist would tell you it’s healthy to do so. The fact that you’re afraid at the idea of scaring me is probably a good indicator that you won’t. And please. Give me some credit. I don’t get scared easily.” She leans down to press a kiss in his hair. “I mean it. Share the burdens, baby. We all want to help.” 

He hums and she lets him play with her fingers before she has to go to work. 

…..

There were cons to not living near the boys for eight years — missing big moments and not having their presence around all the time being the two biggest ones. 

But there were pros too. Such as, not being a part of moments that she would rather be anywhere else for. She doesn’t know who gave the three boys the sex talk (it probably was Quinn, but who gave it to him?) and she knows that if she had been in Toronto or Michigan during that time, she would’ve begrudgingly done it and hated every second. 

If she thinks about it too much, it’s kinda incredible how she hasn’t encountered this particular situation yet. 

This particular situation being this: Clementine’s just come back from an overnight shift she got let off early from, exhausted to her bones but not exhausted enough to be immobile. On the drive back from the station, she was debating whether to stop by her favorite deli or make her own brunch. She ultimately decided that there are too many things in the fridge to justify her going to the deli. Maybe next week. 

So now here she is, preparing her feta egg bake thing that she saw on TikTok, a mix of vegetables drizzled in olive oil and various herbs sitting on the counter on another tray, ready to go into the oven. She hears the front door open and glaces at the clock on the microwave. Morning skate must’ve been earlier than normal today. 

“Hello?” Luke’s voice calls out. 

“In the kitchen!”

She hears two pairs of footsteps come closer, assuming that Jack is with him. Though if she had stopped to think about it, she would’ve automatically thought it was weird that he didn’t call out a greeting either. She turns around, half smile planted on her face. The half smile doesn’t exactly drop at the sight of the unknown blonde girl next to him. Just turns more confused. Before Clementine can say anything, Luke speaks up. 

“Hey. I didn’t think you’d be home until later.”

“They let me out early,” she searches her mind quickly, trying to see how to ask who the fuck is in their kitchen without sounding like a bitch. 

Luckily, Luke does it for her. He clears his throat. “Uh, Clemmy, this is Ava. Ava, Clemmy. Or, Clementine, I guess.”

Clementine decides to put him out of his misery a bit. She hopes her smile is friendly enough. “Nice to meet you, Ava.”

“Same here. Are you Jack’s girlfriend?”

Before she can stop herself, she snickers. “He fucking wishes.”

“That’s Amelie,” Luke corrects. “Clemmy’s dating Nico, my captain.”

Ava’s eyes widen. “Oh. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Clementine waves away her apology easily. “A lot of names. A lot of characters. Speaking of, where is Jack?”

“Dropped him off at Amelie’s after practice, actually. She’s totally gonna kill me though. I think she has to head to Philly later.”

“She’s definitely gonna kill you. Have you two eaten yet?” She asks politely. 

Ava nods. “We did. Thank you so much though.”

“Anytime.” Luke makes a move to lead Ava to his room and Clementine immediately gets the hint. “If you change your mind, our fridge is open to all. I live here, which means there should be something edible.”

“Hey!” Luke protests. The two girls laugh. “Thanks though. Are you heading to Cap’s?”

Clementine shrugs. “I was going to eat, nap and maybe head over later, but I also didn’t know your morning skate was earlier than normal. Maybe I’ll go over to his and use him as my pillow.”

“Don’t drive if you’re too tired,” Luke warns, sounding entirely too much like Jack. “Hisch can wait if needed.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waves her spatula at them. “Alright. I’m off an overnight shift, so you know what that means.”

Luke rolls his eyes as Ava looks between them curiously. “Your social battery is at its lowest and you’ll start snapping soon.” Ava looks amused and Clementine grins. “C’mon, Ava. Let’s go to my room.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Ava says. 

“Likewise,” Clementine responds. The second Luke’s door shuts, she puts the feta egg bake and the vegetables in the oven and immediately grabs her phone, thumbing over to her text chain with Nico. 

Clementine Sandoval 

lol just had a major big sister moment 

She gets a reply in seconds. 

Nico Hischier 

???

A moment you haven’t already experienced?

Clementine Sandoval 

luke just came home with a girl I’ve never met before 

Nico Hischier 

In the day time? Lol

Does Jack know about this? 

Clementine Sandoval 

lol i’m assuming not

i def would’ve heard about it by now 

luke’s not that stupid if he wanted to keep it quiet (which it seems like he does) jack would be the last person he’d tell 

Nico Hischier 

You do realize I’m their captain, right? 

I could very well be with Jack right now. He could be looking over my shoulder

Clementine Sandoval 

please i’m not an amateur 

luke already told me he dumped jack at amelie’s 

what are you doing the rest of the day?

Nico Hischier 

Sitting on my coach and staring at the wall waiting for my beautiful girlfriend to come by after she takes her nap  

Clementine Sandoval 

whipped 

any chance i can come by earlier and nap at yours? didn’t know you guys had an earlier skate 

Nico Hischier 

Door will be unlocked ❤️

Clementine Sandoval

???? your door has a code 

but thanks 🩵🩵 i’ll come by after i eat

After her food is cooked thoroughly, she eats quickly, flicking through emails on her laptop. She can hear a movie playing through Luke’s laptop in his room and murmured voices through the door. As she’s cleaning up and getting ready to head out, she debates on whether she should tell Luke or not. She probably should, because then he’ll start worrying, which is something that she’s noticed all the brothers have done more as they’ve gotten older. 

“Luke!” She calls, “I’m heading out.”

“Okay,” she hears his voice through his door. “Are you coming back for dinner?”

“Not sure yet. I’ll text you.”

“Okay!”

Clementine chuckles before grabbing her stuff and closing the front door behind herself. 

Nico snorts as she’s retelling what happened, sipping on a cup of coffee. Clementine’s rambling to the max, sitting up on his kitchen counter and swinging her legs, not stopping even as Nico slips himself inbetween them and plants his hands on her thighs. 

Suddenly, she trails off with a yawn. He chuckles softly before engulfing her in a hug, kissing her neck softly. “Couch or bed?” 

“You don’t like just lounging on your bed.”

“But it’s your nap time and you like my bed.”

She plays with his hair, placing her cup of coffee down carefully. “Couch.”

“Okay,” he hums, helping her off the counter. “Is there anything I need to wake you up for later?”

“I made some sort of promise a few days ago that I’d cook Jack and Luke dinner, and I feel bad that I haven’t done it yet.”

“They can come over here and we can both cook them something.”

“You have groceries in your fridge?”

He gives her a look as she giggles. He tosses a blanket over her. “Sleep before you start getting sassier on me.”

Clementine hums, eyes already drooping. She tugs at his shirt as he’s about to leave. “Stay.”

“Baby-”

“Just until I fall asleep,” she grins as he climbs in, immediately burying her head into his chest as his arm wraps around her. She hums, eyes already shut. “I love you,” she murmurs against the cotton of his shirt.

She feels the gentlest kiss on her forehead before drifting off to sleep.

…..

Clementine loves being able to switch her brain during a live hockey game. Unless she gets a call from anyone at the hospital — which hasn’t happened yet — any good hockey game can turn her often overtired and overstimulated brain off. 

So when Sarah, one of the staffers she frequently runs into at Devils games, comes up to her row, Clementine’s immediately standing up. “Sarah? What are you doing up here?”

“Can you come with me for a second?” At Clementine’s concerned stare, Sarah continues quickly. “Nothing bad! Just want your help on something medical related.” 

“Medical related?” Clementine stands up and starts following Sarah. 

“One of the kids in the Islanders box hurt herself and I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but you work with kids so I figured you could give another opinion and calm her down, maybe? If you don’t mind, of course.”

Clementine breathes out a sigh of relief. This she can handle. “I don’t mind at all. Jesus, Sarah. I thought it was something more serious.”

Sarah grimaces. “Sorry. Again, I just want a second opinion. I’m sorry to interrupt you watching the-”

“I get it. And hey, I’ve watched dozens of games by now.” They arrive at the visitor’s suite and somehow, Clementine feels immediately at home even though there’s an adorable blonde girl crying on the floor with her mother kneeling down next to her. 

Clementine bends down and sits on the back of her heels. “Hi cutie. My name is Clementine. I’m here to help you, okay?” The mom, who is drop dead gorgeous, mutters some encouraging words to her daughter. “Can you tell me what happened, sweetie?”

Inbetween hiccups, the young girl explains that she was running around because her dad had just scored a goal but had run into a chair and had fallen backwards and now her ankle really hurts and if it’s broken she won’t get to play with her friends at recess. Clementine softly shushes her and calms her down before asking if she can take a look. The young girl nods and Clementine gingerly takes her ankle, rolling up her jeans. She speaks to the girl softly (who Clementine learns is named Winnie), asking about who she’s here to see and the game and anything else to keep her distracted while she does her routine checks. 

Clementine taps her ankle. “Well, good news, Winnie. It’s only swollen, which won’t require going to the hospital. I’m just gonna wrap it up for you and get you some ice to keep on it, okay? And lots of rest, which means no running around for a bit.” She nods thankfully at Sarah, who runs to grab some bandages and an ice pack. 

“Does that mean I get to watch Disney all day tomorrow?” Winnie asks. 

Clementine laughs. “That’s gonna be a decision your mama has to make.” She turns to the gorgeous blonde again with a smile. “Everything’s all fine. Just lots of rest and ice and she’ll be good in no time. You can give her children’s motrin if she complains that it hurts too much, but it shouldn’t if she isn’t moving it around.”

“Thank you so much,” she says gratefully, putting her hand out. “I’m Sydney. It’s nice to meet you. I’m really sorry for interrupting your game.”

Clementine waves her away. “It’s no problem at all. I’ve seen a bunch of these, so I’m not too pressed.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Not yet technically. I’m in my second year of residency with pediatrics and ER. But I promise I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, no! I trust you, don’t worry. You have a very calming presence.”

“Well, your daughter is super sweet. So I’m sure you have a lot to do with that.”

Sydney beams. “You’re so sweet! Thank you.” 

“Who are you here for?”

“Number 17. Matt Martin. He’s my husband. How about you?”

Clementine chuckles, as Sarah comes back with the supplies and Clementine wraps the bandage around Winnie’s ankle. “Depends who you ask.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I grew up with Luke and Jack. 43 and 86. But I’m dating Nico. Number 13.”

“That’s the captain, right?”

“It is.” 

Clementine’s surprise must show through her voice because Sydney laughs. “Honestly, I don’t know why I know that. I blame my past journalist self who picks up on details quickly. Or the Devils and Islanders being in the same division.”

“That’s completely fair. I feel like I know too much about hockey for someone who never played.”

“It’s an added layer when we choose who we surround ourselves with, right?” Sydney says and Clementine nods with a smile. “Where are you doing your residency?”

“I’m mainly at NYC Health and Hospitals / Bellevue. First and 28th.”

“Do you live in the city?”

“Oh, no. Though that’s probably smarter, right?” They both laugh. “No, I live with Jack and Luke in Hoboken. They kinda begged, and it saves me money, and I don’t mind the commute.”

Sydney looks around for Winnie, who’s hanging out with one of the other Isles wives and is occupied. “Am I keeping you from someone? Thank you again for all your help.”

“No, not at all! Decided to come out solo tonight.”

Sydney then nods to two empty seats against the glass. “Come sit with me?”

Clementine just smiles and follows her to the seat as Winnie runs at her legs. The two women laugh as Clementine picks her up and sits her on her hip. 

She leaves that night with a new number in her phone. Jack whines about her “befriending the enemy” as Luke cackles. Nico just grins, because he knows what it’s like to be captivated by her energy instantly. 

*****

Clementine’s reading on Nico’s couch when she hears him groan loudly from the kitchen. When she doesn’t hear an explanation, she finishes the sentence and looks up. 

“Everything okay?” 

“No,” he grumbles, walking back in and typing something rapidly on his phone. “The rookies and the young guys went out and got way too drunk and called me by accident. I literally couldn’t understand more than two words of what Shea was saying.” 

“How are they getting home?” 

Nico sighs and picks up his keys. “I’m getting them. I don’t trust them to not puke all over an Uber right now.” 

“But you trust them to not puke in your car?”

“I’ll tell them to aim out the window.” 

Clementine snorts, standing up. “You drank earlier. I’ll drive.” 

Nico blinks. “I didn’t drink that much.” 

“Don’t care. I’m driving. How many of them are there?” 

Nico looks at his phone, presumably his texts, to confirm. “Five. But apparently Luke called Jack so he’s coming too.” Nico laughs, reading another text. “And Amelie. Must be a similar vibe at the Hughes apartment tonight.” 

“It was. Amelie told me they were having a chill date night too.” She quickly goes to Nico’s room to toss on one of his Devils sweatshirts. She comes back out and sticks her hand out as Nico slips on his shoes. “Keys. And grab a few trash bags, please.”  

Nico obeys before they’re both out the door, his hand naturally brushing against her back as they wait for the elevator. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“All of this.”

She snorts as the elevators doors shut. “Don’t need to apologize for your teammates acting their age.”

“Yeah, but it’s not your responsibility to deal with that.”

“It’s yours though.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “I’m not following.”

She rises on her tiptoes to kiss him, to which he responds with enthusiasm despite his confusion. “Your boys, my boys, no?” She murmurs against his lips, letting him steal two more kisses. “I’m dating you. You’re the captain of an NHL team. You look out for the guys. Therefore, so do I.”

Nico shakes his head with a fond smile as the elevator doors open and he shuffles them both to the garage, his hands steadily on her hips. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Been told that once or twice in my life,” she dodges his pokes as they walk to the car. 

It only takes them 15 minutes before they’re in front of a bar. Nico pulls in right next to Jack’s car and Clementine laughs as all four of them get out of their cars at the same time. One look at Amelie tells her that she probably was dragged out of bed to come here.

She nods at the younger girl as they trail behind their boyfriends walking into the bar. “Chauffeur?” 

Amelie smiles wryly, handing her a few bottles of water for whoever is coming in Nico’s car. “No. I’m the one who actually opened the wine tonight. But I don’t trust Jack to wrangle these guys by himself. Also, he promised he’d get me lunch from my favorite place tomorrow before I have to drive to Long Island.”

Clementine whistles. “Good girlfriend you are.”

Amelie tosses an arm around Clementine’s shoulders, which makes the latter grin. Amelie had been a bit shyer when they met at the start of the season, but she likes to think she’s cracked the photographer’s exterior a bit. They walk into the bar and just follow the guys, who quickly find their teammates. Clementine only raises an eyebrow as Seamus stumbles to give Nico a hug, almost taking out Simon in the process, who looks like he’s about to either fall asleep or throw up any minute. Jack is subtly steering glasses of alcohol away from Alex as he’s chatting away to Luke. Clementine’s half convinced he’s speaking Swedish and Luke’s too drunk to realize. She scans the bar to find the last straggler and chuckles when she sees Nico (little Nico, she affectionately calls him) come out of the bathroom. He brightens up when he sees the older girl and Clementine laughs loudly as he almost falls into her arms. 

She, Nico, Jack and Amelie corral everyone into the two cars — Luke, Alex and Nico riding with Jack and Amelie and Seamus and Simon with Clementine and Nico, all purely based on proximity. Clementine gives both Amelie and Jack hugs before climbing into the drivers seat. She gives Seamus and Simon each bottles of water as she starts the engine. 

“Drink. The whole thing. Both of you.” She commands. She peeks through the rearview mirror to make sure they do. 

“I’m waiting for the lecture, Mrs. Cap.” Seamus groans out.

Clementine snorts. “No lecture from me. But you guys do remember that you have a team meeting tomorrow, do you?”

“How do you know that?” 

Nico snorts as an answer as Clementine rolls her eyes. “How much did you guys have?”

“I stopped counting after the third round of shots,” Seamus says. Simon might have fallen asleep for all she knows.  

“And who bought that round?” Nico asks. 

“Luke,” Seamus and Clementine say simultaneously. She hears Simon groan, so he’s not asleep. Nico just chuckles. 

It only takes 30 minutes to get them both safely home and to get back to Nico’s apartment. It’s almost 2 a.m. by the time they get back. Clementine gets comfortable fast, with Nico’s body pressed up against hers. The last conscious thought she has before drifting off to sleep is that she wants to do this with him for the rest of her life. 

The first thing she hears when she wakes up is a bunch of male voices. She squints at her phone. 10:27 a.m. Team meeting started at 10. She yawns and rolls out of bed, washing her face and brushing her teeth before deciding to go fix up a quick breakfast for herself before locking herself in Nico’s room so the team can do whatever they do during team meetings. 

The voices all halt as she nears the living room. Any other situation she would be a bit embarrassed perhaps, but frankly, they all know and should’ve expected this. And they’re in her apartment. Or Nico’s. But it also might as well be ours. 

She offers a lazy salute. “Morning boys.” A chorus of greetings echoes and Clementine chuckles. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be out of your hair in a second.”

“You can stay,” Nico says softly with a smile from where he’s standing behind the couch. She just waves him off, pours out a cup of coffee, quickly fixes herself some hummus toast with feta on top and slips back into his room. 

She sets her food down carefully on the bedside table and eats while scrolling through her email and social media. She even puts her headphones in so she’s not tempted to listen to the guys through the wall.

It’s about a half an hour later when she hears a faint knock on the door. She calls out a “come in” and takes out her Airpods with a smile when Nico peeks his head in.

“Hi Schatz.”

“Hey. What’s up?”

“The boys wanna say hi,” she opens her mouth to protest but he beats to her to it. “We’re pretty much done. Pizza’s coming any minute so we’re just chilling out now.”

Clementine grabs her empty plate and mug, rising up to her toes to press a kiss on his cheek. “Breaking the diet?”

“We just won a tough back to back. We deserve it.”

“Sure you do,” she chuckles as he playfully swats her butt. They walk back out into the living room together and she rolls her eyes as everyone cheers. Nico heads back to the living room as she heads into the kitchen to start another pot of coffee, politely nudging Dawson and Dougie out of her way. 

Nico’s apartment is spacious, but twenty plus hockey players all crowding around make it feel much smaller than normal. Clementine decides to swing herself on top of the counter to chat with Luke and John, mostly content with listening to them talk.

When she hears a chorus of laughter, she turns to the living room to see what’s going on to already see quite a few of the guys looking at her. She raises an eyebrow at Nico, who she swears has a slight blush painting his cheeks. But he doesn’t shy away and beams at her instead. With some boldness, she bounces over to him, squeezing in beside him on the couch. He leans into her touch automatically. She wonders if this is a side of their captain his team hasn’t seen much before. 

That last thought has her hesitant for a second, but as if Nico can sense it, he takes her hand off his shoulder and kisses the back of it before going back to a previous conversation with Jesper. Her hand remains in his. She catches Timo’s close-lipped smile and Nate’s visible delight. Clementine just sends them a wink before leaning into Nico’s side. 

Without missing a beat in laughing at something Jesper says, Nico places a kiss in her hair. 

(Later, as the team is starting to filter out of Nico’s apartment, Jonas pulls him aside. Nico is immediately on high alert when Jonas decidedly switches to their native language. They don’t do that often during the season.

“She’s great. Clementine,” Jonas starts.

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Yeah? You think so?”

“Yeah,” they both look over to the other side of the living room, where she’s in the midst of a playful debate about something with Jack and Jesper. Though from the way she punches Jack in the arm, maybe it’s not so playful. “I know we met at the end of last season, but I wanted to give it some time. She’s weirdly perfect for you.”

“Spit it out, Jonas,” Nico stares at him. 

Jonas just stares back for a bit before letting out a small chuckle. “I’m really happy for you, truly. You deserve someone like her.”

“Like her?”

“Yeah. Someone smart, beautiful and who will be just as all in as you are.” 

Nico looks down at his feet, heat rising up his neck all of a sudden. “She’s the best, really. Kinda keeps me sane without even trying.”

“That’s all you can ask for from a partner,” Jonas pats his shoulder once before calling out a goodbye to everyone. 

Clementine rushes over to give Jonas a quick goodbye hug. Nico feels himself falling and not wanting anyone to catch him.)

…..

The universe is on their side for the 10 year anniversary of Miguel’s death, with the Canucks scheduled to play in town the day after. Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack, Amelie, Luke, Maeve, Clementine and Nico all go out to brunch on New Year’s Day, before heading to the cemetery. 

They’re all bundled up as they lay out a few blankets, lay down their flowers and some of Miguel’s favorite food and snacks. The cemetery is quiet, but it’s quickly filled with everyone’s laughter as they share their favorite memories and reminisce. Quite a few tears are shed and the tissue box is passed around often. 

When they’re about to leave, everyone gets their individual moments by his tombstone to pay their last respects. Clementine and Maeve let the Hughes’s go first, hands intertwined with each other. Then, Clementine and Maeve step up and the young woman swallows, her mom’s head falling on her shoulder. With one last squeeze, Maeve steps back and gently ushers Nico to stand next to his girlfriend despite his gentle protests. 

The second she feels Nico’s arm draping across her back, Clementine lets out a sob as she buries part of her face into his jacket. It’s not a sad sob, but it’s not a happy one. She’s happy he’s here with her. She wishes her dad could meet him and love him as much as she knows he would. 

Once they reach the bottom of the hill, Quinn reaches out to squeeze her hand. She keeps her right hand in his as Nico’s pressed against her left side. She stares ahead at her mother pressed between Ellen and Jim with Jack, Amelie and Luke right behind them in a similar embrace.

The birds are chirping. The sound of the wind is made even more noticeable as it whistles through the leaves. The sun is shining, not a single cloud in the sky.

Clementine feels peace settle into her heart.

[breelandwalker]

Wolf Moon - January 24-25, 2024

Shake off the cold and sing to the sky, witches - it's time for the Wolf Moon!

Wolf Moon

The Wolf Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of January. The name is said to be derived from the sound of wolves howling with hunger while prey is scarce in the midst of winter. Given that we now know that wolves howl mostly for communication, my personal opinion is that people huddled in their homes during a very dark and dangerous time of year probably noticed these sounds a lot more readily with little else to occupy their time as they waited out the winter, and thus were set to worrying about ravenous beasts invading their villages and farmsteads. (It's worth noting that wolves preying on livestock was a very real concern for most people outside major cities for many centuries, so this isn't entirely unfounded.)

The name also calls to mind the howling of the wind during winter storms, or whistling around the eaves during the long cold nights. And for those of us who might not have been careful with our spending over the holidays, I might cite a tongue-in-cheek reference to the wolves being at the door when those credit card bills come due.

[For those not familiar with the phrase, to have "a wolf at the door" is a saying that refers to some imminent hardship or disaster. In modern parlance, this is usually applied to poor finances or looming bankruptcy.]

This month, the moon peaks at 12:54pm EST on January 25th, so the moon will likely appear to be full on the nights of the 24th and 25th, depending on where you are in the world.

Some North American indigenous names for the month of January and its' moon are Cold Moon (Cree), Center Moon (Assiniboine), Severe Moon (Dakota), Ice Moon (Catawba), and Spirit Moon (Ojibwe). Other names include Mantis Moon (South African origins), Quiet Moon (Celtic), and Moon After Yule (Anglo-Saxon).

What Does It Mean For Witches?

As a new year dawns, it's time for rest and reflection before we set out on the next phase of our journey. While the cold weather lingers, take some time to sit by the fire, literally or metaphorically, and take stock of where you stand, what resources are available, and what you plan to do with them.

Check in with your near-and-dear following the mad rush of the holiday season as well. Make sure that friends, family, and community members around you are doing all right. Offer support and kindness where you can, but don't overextend yourself. It's your time to recuperate too, and it is good and healthy to set boundaries which allow time and space for yourself.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

Winter is a prime time for storytelling. Back in the days before internet or television or radio, people would often read to each other or tell tales to pass the time. Consider re-reading a favorite book that inspires you or exploring some region of folklore or mythology you've been meaning to look into. If you have children who are of an age to enjoy stories, read them some of your favorites or introduce them to something new. Share stories and discussions with your witchy circle too!

While you're at it, take a moment to examine the role that folklore and stories play in your practice. If you subscribe to a particular mythos, be it through deities or just general belief, consider which parts of it resonate the most with you and why.

Consider also the lessons of the winter season - the necessity of rest between periods of growth and activity, and the role of death, cold, and darkness in the natural cycles of life. What do these things mean to you and your practice? Are they a source of fear or fascination? Do you come alive in the winter or bundle up and wait for spring? How can you best remind yourself to pause for breath as the year goes on?

And of course, the beginning of a new year is an excellent time for goal-setting and divination. You're making resolutions for your mundane life, so make a few for your craft while you're at it, and pull out your cards or runes or pendulum for a New Year forecast on how things might go.

Happy Wolf Moon, witches! 🐺🌕

SOURCES & FURTHER READING:

Bree's Lunar Calendar Series

Bree's Secular Celebrations Series

Wolf Moon: Full Moon in January, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Full Moon January 2024: Discover the Wolf's Thrilling Spiritual Meaning, The Peculiar Brunette.

Moon Info - Full Moon Dates for 2024

Calendar-12 - 2024 Moon Phases

Image Source: What Is A Wolf Moon?, The Fact Site.

[bad268]

Hey! thank you for replying to my idea. looking forward for the Kimi Antonelli stories in January!, maybe for the part two of "caught" kimi posts that photo on his instagram and everyone goes mental but they could see it coming. and maybe a lot of fluff and cuddles! thank you! love your work

Caught Pt. 2 (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Clearly (I love this honestly)

Warnings: none.

Pronouns: You/your

W.C. 869

Summary: The aftermath of announcing your relationship.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<-Part 1

~~(Both pics used are from Pinterest)

The Instagram DM from the fan had already arrived, and he wanted you to see the picture. “I think this is the perfect way to announce us.”

Unfortunately, he was not able to post it the next day. His media manager did not think it would be a good idea to post so soon after the end of the season, so they decided to push it back a few weeks. Thankfully, the fans were willing to not post the pictures until you two were ready. 

“Is it bad I want to keep those pictures for just us?” You asked one day while you two were lying in your apartment. The season was going to start up in a few weeks, and Kimi’s media manager said it would be the perfect time to announce the relationship in the run-up to the pre-season testing. You two were cuddling on your couch as a show played in the background as you scrolled through your phones. You were looking at the pictures that the fans sent you, and honestly, you didn’t want them out in the open. You turned your phone in his direction and it was set to the one where you were lying on the grass and Kimi was looking down at you. “This was our moment, and I don’t know if I want to share that with the world just yet.”

“I understand it, that does look a little much for what I’m comfortable sharing, too,” Kimi admitted. “We can talk with the team and see if they have any ideas to announce it unless you have any backup plans?”

“What if you post pictures that I’ve taken of you?” You offered, pulling up a few of your favorites that you’ve taken of Kimi. “We could do a funny caption that implies I’m your significant other.”

“I like it,” He laughed, opening Instagram.

~~

~~

The first race was something. The atmosphere was so much more lively than it was for FRECA. You didn’t know if it had anything to do with the recent announcement, but it seemed like there were more Kimi Antonelli fans than you remembered there being at the end of last season. Not that you were complaining! He was finally getting the recognition he deserved, but it felt like all of the attention was on you two as you walked into the paddock of Bahrain.

You walked through the gates hand in hand as fans stopped you every once in a while for pictures or autographs before you made it to the Prema garage.

“Be honest and I mean this in the nicest way possible,” you started as soon as you got into the safety and privacy of the driver’s room, “were there more fans or am I just crazy?”

“With more exposure comes more fans, I guess,” he laughed as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Immediately, his eyes turned soft as his arms moved down your arms instead to hold your hands. “You’re shaking, what’s going on?”

“I think this is just bigger than I thought it would be,” you whispered, taking a deep breath to try and steady your racing heart. You met his eyes and allowed a small smile across your face. “I should have seen it coming. Sure, F2 is one step below F1 and you’re in a front-runner team, but I didn’t expect this much attention.”

“Here, why don’t we do this,” he trailed off as he pulled you into the corner of the driver’s room where the message bed was set up. You looked at him skeptically at first, and when he noticed, he chuckled a little, “I’m not giving you a message, but lay down on your back.”

“I don’t see how this is gonna help,” you laughed as you got comfortable on your back. It did not take long for Kimi to climb on the bed on top of you, causing you to laugh more as he laid his head on your chest and wrapped his arms around your torso. “What are you doing?”

“I read somewhere that weighted blankets help with anxiety,” he started explaining as you ran your fingers through his curls, “We don’t have a weighted blanket, but I thought this would still work.”

“This works perfectly,” you whispered, placing a kiss on the crown of his head, “You’re adorable. What did I do to deserve you?”

“Exist,” he whispered back as you both relaxed in the calmness.

~~

“So this is where you guys have been hiding all day?” A voice came into the room after who knows how long, waking you both up.

“Oh, shut up, Ollie!” Kimi responded, recognizing who it was before you could.

“Why are we always getting caught in these kinds of situations?” You said to yourself in disbelief, causing Kimi to laugh.

“I don’t know, but I need to steal your boyfriend for a meeting,” Ollie laughed, grabbing Kimi’s arms and all but dragging him out of the room.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[cuubism]

home for the season (2.5k) (E)

some more Hope/Morpheus reverse AU, aka my most self-indulgent special little blorbos

--

Hope's favorite season is spring. Morpheus thinks this is horribly cliche, and has told him so. What's your favorite season, then, you Prince of Night? Hope had of course quipped back. Winter, I assume?

Morpheus had found himself blushing. ...Summer, he had admitted at length. Morpheus struggled to stay hopeful at the best of times, and in winter, in the dark, the cold, the late mornings and early evenings, it was even harder to find his way. Seasonal depression, he supposed. But summer...

It reminds me of you, he had said. How I feel... when I am with you.

Sweaty and overheated? Hope had said, but his expression was... Morpheus almost couldn't look at it directly.

Yes, Morpheus had said, and blinded by light.

Now it is winter, and Hope has been gone for three weeks. He is often gone. The other Endless, Hope has told him, have realms to tend to, actual places in the universe. Hope has no realm in that sense, his realm is the world, and the space among its creatures. Which gives him leave to live with Morpheus, but he cannot just stay in London all the time. He must go elsewhere, to places where he is very much needed.

Sometimes Morpheus goes with him, but he tires of so much travel. He has worked hard to build a tiny space in the world where he feels comfortable and it is difficult to be away from it for long. But more than that... he does not want to burden Hope when he is performing his function. He knows well that when he is there, Hope feels that he needs to... tend to him. To make sure he is okay. And Hope has other things he needs to be doing. Others he must tend to. Morpheus does not want to stifle him. Hope should be free. He was trapped once. Morpheus won't be the one to do it again.

He has not voiced any of that to Hope. Hope would only argue with him, or feel bad for needing to leave to perform his function. It is what it is. Morpheus has chosen to love someone so much grander than human, and that means he cannot always have him.

He misses him, though. He misses him so much, and especially in winter. He does not know how he survived decades between their meetings in the past.

But he persists. Because he loves Hope. And loving Hope is hard. It's so hard. But it's worth it.

It's been another two weeks--five total, now, since Hope left on his most recent voyage--two weeks of cold January wind and Morpheus spending his evenings huddled before the fireplace because he still can't quite get used to central heating, it is not as comforting--when Hope returns.

Morpheus is asleep, and is woken by a crashing sound in his living room, and Hope's quietly uttered fuck as he presumably stumbles back to his feet. Morpheus jumps out of bed and runs into the living room. He does not jump or run, usually, but for Hope, he does.

Hope looks up at him guiltily from where he's straightening an end table he'd knocked over in his rapid arrival. Hope does not need to travel by mortal means, he just appears. But he does not always have the best spatial awareness. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Please, feel free to teleport straight into my bed and wake me as much as you wish," says Morpheus.

Hope grimaces, plucking at his shirt. "I'm all gross, though.”

"I don't care."

Hope is not wrong about being 'gross': his white t-shirt is soaked in sweat, his hair and face covered in dust. Morpheus does not know where he's been. Selfishly, he doesn't want to. If he asks, Hope will doubtless tell him some horrible tale of suffering that may even end with Hope himself murdered in an atrocious manner. Something which cannot kill him, but which Morpheus finds distressing to hear about nevertheless. It's selfish to not want to hear it. But he has never been a very selfless person.

What he does do is hug him. This, too, feels selfish, though he doesn't know why.

"I should really shower," Hope says, but lets Morpheus hold him, and sighs when Morpheus cradles the back of his head. His anxious thoughts never seem to care that Hope cannot be killed. Morpheus worries for him anyway. Hope cannot be killed, but he can suffer. Has suffered.

"I am glad you are safe," Morpheus says.

"I'm always safe," Hope says. This is patently untrue. But Hope does not always like to talk about his past imprisonment.

Morpheus presses his nose into his shoulder. Hope smells like sweat and grime and dry heat. Morpheus just holds him tighter.

"Alright?" Hope asks, and Morpheus nods.

"I have missed you."

"Ah." Hope kisses his temple. "I missed you too, darling."

Morpheus indulges himself in holding him for another few moments. Then says, “You will want that shower, I imagine.”

“Yeah. Come with me? I did wake you up, though, so if you wanted to go back to sleep—”

“I will come with you,” Morpheus says. He won’t sacrifice his limited time with Hope for mere sleep. He can sleep the rest of his life, when Hope isn’t there.

“Good,” Hope says, with a smile, then takes his hand and draws him to the bathroom.

~

Morpheus is quiet while they bathe. This isn’t necessarily unusual for him, he’s reticent by nature, but still it pings something in Hope’s awareness. Then again, Hope did wake him up in the middle of the night, so maybe Hope is just overthinking. He’s quite good at that.

“Alright?” Hope asks, and Morpheus sighs.

“I miss you when you aren’t here,” he says.

It’s almost funny, the contrast between his always-solemn voice and the shampoo suds stuck in his hair, but Hope doesn’t laugh this time. “I know, darling. I’m sorry.”

“Especially in winter,” Morpheus continues, and then Hope feels stricken.

Oh. How did he not think of it? Winter is always difficult for Morpheus, the cold and early nights make it harder than ever for him to manage his depression. Hope can’t believe he thought it was a good idea to leave him alone.

“Oh,” he says, voice small, guilt rising. “Oh, I should have stayed with you, love, I’m—”

Morpheus stops him with a finger to his lips.

"You do not belong to me, Hope," he says quietly.

"Kind of do," Hope says.

"You belong with me," Morpheus says. A subtle but important correction. "At least, I should like to think so. I miss you. But I should hate myself were I ever to stifle you. It would be far worse.”

“Being with you isn’t stifling to me,” Hope protests, but Morpheus just keeps giving him that serious look. He sighs. “Fine. I understand what you mean. I can’t stay here all the time. But. I don’t like to think of you just here, hurting.”

It breaks his heart, it does, to think of Morpheus alone. He knows Morpheus survived centuries meeting him only once every hundred years, but still. It doesn’t mean he should have to.

“I am only being dramatic, do not change your behavior on account of my stupidity," Morpheus says, but his eyes look wet. "You have done nothing wrong."

"Can I at least give you a hug?"

Morpheus nods, and Hope pulls him into his arms. Soap smears between them, water slips, but Hope holds him tighter.

“Are you well?” Morpheus asks. “I do not even want to think about what horrible place you may have been.”

“No place is horrible, only its circumstances,” says Hope. “I won’t tell you about it, don’t worry.” The last thing Morpheus needs is more heavy things weighing on his mind. Besides, Hope is used to this. Being with Morpheus is enough of a salve for his wounds.

“Later, perhaps, you can tell me about the not-so-horrible parts of your journey.”

Hope kisses the side of his head, and gets a mouthful of shampoo. “Oof. Let me rinse your hair, you’re more soap than man.”

Morpheus submits to this, bending down so Hope can scrub his hair, and when he’s properly rinsed they both tumble out of the shower, tired, and dry off, and then Morpheus, taking charge of the situation once more, takes Hope to bed. Hope cuddles up to him, relishing in the touch of skin to skin.

“I’m glad I have you to come home to,” Hope tells him, lips pressed to his throat. Once upon a time he would just wander place to place, making friends wherever he went but never staying. He couldn’t have known how good staying might feel.

“Even when you are gone,” says Morpheus, haltingly, “you always give me a reason to stay.”

Hope kisses him, lightly at first and then deeper, sinking into Morpheus’s mouth. Morpheus is a lovely kisser, firm and sure and passionate. Hope curls a hand around his rib cage as they move together, and Morpheus tugs him closer by his hip, presses them up against each other, Hope’s leg slung over his, bodies entangled.

Morpheus’s tongue sweeps into his mouth. Fates, how Hope wants him right now, his surety. He wants Morpheus to command him to stay with his body, tempt him into putting down his sword, at least for the night.

Morpheus parts from his mouth to murmur in his ear. “You are beautiful,” he says, that low rumbling voice that Hope hears soothing him in dark moments. “When I am without you, you live in my every dreaming moment; these are more valuable than waking moments, you understand.”

He reaches a hand between them, wraps his long fingers around Hope’s hardening cock. Hope sucks in a sharp breath.

“Dreaming moments are more valuable?” he echoes.

“They are where... where I feel I am alive. Where I can create, and where I see shadows, but also light. And in every dash of sunlight I see you.”

“My tragic poet,” Hope murmurs, the words shuddering over the steady motion of Morpheus’s hand on him. It’s a soothing, sleepy way of working him, drawing Hope inexorably towards him like the pull of the deep sea. “I believe you are still wooing me.”

“I must.” Morpheus’s hips tilt in, his cock sliding against Hope’s, bellies rubbing. They move languidly together under the covers, warmth building between them. Morpheus takes them both in his hand and works them together; Hope just holds onto him. “I must. I must have you know. And see. You must see it.”

“I do,” Hope says, but he’s not sure he does. It’s hard to truly get inside Morpheus’s head. He does his best, but his understanding of Morpheus’s feelings is always imperfect.

“You must.” He twists his grip, drawing a gasp from Hope, who thrusts into his hand, seeking pleasure. Fates but it feels good to have something good and sweet and nice after the turmoil he’s wandered through these past weeks. He sinks into Morpheus’s touch, closing his eyes as they rock slowly together.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” Morpheus teases, as Hope just sighs, leaning into him.

“Your touch could lull me to sleep,” Hope says. But the edge of pleasure is just bright enough that he wants to chase it rather than truly fall into it. He twines his fingers through Morpheus’s hair, brings their lips back together. Kisses him as Morpheus builds the pleasure between them, strokes his thumb over him. Hope tugs on his hair, pulling a moan from Morpheus’s throat, bites it from his mouth, brings him ever closer with his heel hooked around the back of his leg. Being with him is sweet, and warm, and makes Hope shiver, the release of the tension he’s carried in him since he left. He gives himself over to Morpheus’s hands and it’s such a gift. If Morpheus thinks he is the only one gaining hope from being together he is wrong.

“Morpheus,” he breathes, as Morpheus’s lovely hands bring him quietly over the edge. He shudders, hands tightening in Morpheus’s hair. Morpheus strokes him through it, touch light. Moves close to press their bodies together and grinds into the crook of Hope’s hip. Hope tucks his face into his shoulder, breathing hard as Morpheus brings himself off against his skin. He moves so beautifully, he is so beautiful, Hope doesn’t know how he ever manages to leave him.

Morpheus comes with a gasp, and not long after Hope feels tears on his cheek, pulls back to look but Morpheus only shakes his head, eyes wet.

“Ignore me,” he says, when Hope meets his gaze.

“I could never. Your pain is too loud to me for that.”

Morpheus huffs. “I am not in pain.” Hope just holds his gaze, and Morpheus concedes, “I simply do not want you to go.”

“Not going anywhere for a while,” Hope tells him, though the thought pains him as well. He wishes so much, in this moment, that he could just stay with Morpheus. But when he stays too long, when he’s idle, he feels his function itching at him. He’s not meant to be only in one place, no matter how much he loves that place.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he says, not for the first time.

Morpheus presses his forehead to his. “I know. And I will persist, and think of you when you’re gone.”

“Oh, darling.” Hope takes him into his arms, heedless of the mess that’s still between them. Morpheus clings to him, wraps all his limbs around him. The press of his body is soothing. Hope does get lonely while he’s away. He makes friends during his travels, but no one is a substitute for his Morpheus.

“How about this,” he proposes. “I’ll try to come back to you more often in winter, when it’s hard, hm? Fates know I miss you anyway.”

Morpheus nods. “I would be. Amenable to that.” He runs his fingers through Hope’s hair, kisses his lips. “For now, you must sleep. And so long as you are still here in the morning, I will be at peace.”

“I’ll make you breakfast,” Hope promises, for Morpheus, the nocturnal creature, is never awake in the morning. Hope usually rises with the sun.

“See that you do,” Morpheus says, and settles down heavy against him. Hope does a little subtle magic to clean up so he won’t have to move him again, then draws the blanket over them, banishing the remaining winter chill. In the morning, he’ll light the fire, because he knows they both like it, Morpheus especially. And they’ll cuddle up and pretend for a moment that every day is like this, that their time together doesn’t wax and wane with the turn of the seasons, that Hope doesn’t have to go and Morpheus doesn’t have to struggle. In those fleeting moments, reality, fears, duty and heartache are put aside and all that’s left is their love underpinning it all, all that’s left is them.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Frev Friendships — Saint-Just and Robespierre

You who supports the tottering fatherland against the torrent of despotism and intrigue, you whom I only know, like God, through his miracles; I speak to you, monsieur, to ask you to unite with me in order to save my sad fatherland. The city of Gouci has relocated (this rumour goes around here) the free markets from the town of Blérancourt. Why do the cities devour the privileges of the countryside? Will there remain no more of them to the latter than size and taxes? Support, please, with all your talent, an address that I make for the same letter, in which I request the reunion of my heritage with the national areas of the canton, so that one lets to my country a privilege without which it has to die of hunger. I do not know you, but you are a great man. You are not only the deputy of a province, you are one of humanity and of the Republic. Please, make it that my request be not despised. I have the honour to be, monsieur, your most humble, most obedient servant. Saint-Just, constituent of the department of Aisne. To Monsieur de Robespierre in the National Assembly in Paris. Blérancourt, near Noyon, August 19, 1790. Saint-Just’s first letter ever written to Robespierre, dated August 19 1790

Citizens, you are aware that, to dispel the errors with which Roland has covered the entire Republic, the Society has decided that it will have Robespierre's speech printed and distributed. We viewed it as an eternal lesson for the French people, as a sure way of unmasking the Brissotin faction and of opening the eyes of the French to the virtues too long unknown of the minority that sits with the Mountain. I remind you that a subscription office is open at the secretariat. It is enough for me to point it out to you to excite your patriotic zeal, and, by imitating the patriots who each deposited fifty écus to have Robespierre's excellent speech printed, you will have done well for the fatherland. Saint-Just at the Jacobins, January 1 1793

Patriots with more or less talent […] Jacquier, Saint-Just’s brother-in-law. Robespierre in a private list, written sometime during his time on the Committee of Public Safety

Saint-Just doesn’t have time to write to you. He gives you his compliments. Lebas in a letter to Robespierre October 25 1793

Trust no longer has a price when we share it with corrupt men, then we do our duty out of love for our fatherland alone, and this feeling is purer. I embrace you, my friend. Saint-Just.  To Robespierre the older.  Saint-Just in a post-scriptum note added to a letter written by Lebas to Robespierre, November 5 1793. Saint-Just uses tutoiement with Robespierre here, while Lebas used vouvoiement.

We have made too many laws and too few examples: you punish but the salient crimes, the hypocritical crimes go unpunished. Punish a slight abuse in each part, it is the way to frighten the wicked, and to make them see that the government has its eye on everything. No sooner do we turn our backs than the aristocracy rises in the tone of the day, and commits evils under the colors of liberty. Engage the committee to give much pomp to the punishment of all faults in government. Before a month has passed you will have illuminated this maze in which counter-revolution and revolution march haphazardly. Call, my friend, the attention of the Jacobin Club to the strong maxims of the public good; let it concern itself with the great means of governing a free state. I invite you to take measures to find out if all the manufactures and factories of France are in activity, and to favor them, because our troops would within a year find themselves without clothes; manufacturers are not patriots, they do not want to work, they must be forced to do so, and not let down any useful establishment. We will do our best here. I embrace you and our mutual friends. Saint-Just To Robespierre the older. Saint-Just in a letter to Robespierre, December 14 1793

Paris, 9 nivôse, year 2 of the Republic. Friends. I feared, in the midst of our successes, and on the eve of a decisive victory, the disastrous consequences of a misunderstanding or of a ridiculous intrigue. Your principles and your virtues reassured me. I have supported them as much as I could. The letter that the Committee of Public Safety sent you at the same time as mine will tell you the rest. I embrace you with all my soul. Robespierre. Robespierre in a letter to Saint-Just and Lebas, December 29 1793

Why should I not say that this (the dantonist purge) was a meditated assassination, prepared for a long time, when two days after this session where the crime was taking place, the representative Vadier told me that Saint-Just, through his stubbornness, had almost caused the downfall of the members of the two committees, because he had wanted that the accused to be present when he read the report at the National Convention; and such was his obstinacy that, seeing our formal opposition, he threw his hat into the fire in rage, and left us there. Robespierre was also of this opinion; he believed that by having these deputies arrested beforehand, this approach would sooner or later be reprehensible; but, as fear was an irresistible argument with him, I used this weapon to fight him: You can take the chance of being guillotined, if that is what you want; For my part, I want to avoid this danger by having them arrested immediately, because we must not have any illusions about the course we must take; everything is reduced to these bits: If we do not have them guillotined, we will be that ourselves. À Maximilien Robespierre aux enfers (1794) by Taschereau de Fargues and Paul-Auguste-Jacques. Robespierre and Saint-Just had also worked out the dantonists’ indictment together.

…As far from the insensibility of your Saint-Just as from his base jealousies, [Camille] recoiled in front if the idea of accusing a college comrade, a companion in arms. […] Robespierre, can you really complete the fatal projects which the vile souls that surround you no doubt have inspired you to? […] Had I been Saint-Just’s wife I would tell him this: the sake of Camille is yours, it’s the sake of all the friends of Robespierre!  Lucile Desmoulins in an unsent letter to Robespierre, written somewhere between March 31 and April 4 1794. Lucile seems to have believed it was Saint-Just’s ”bad influence” in particular that got Robespierre to abandon Camille.

In the beginning of floréal (somewhere between April 20 and 30) during an evening session (at the Committee of Public Safety), a brusque fight erupted between Saint-Just and Carnot, on the subject of the administration of portable weapons, of which it wasn’t Carnot, but Prieur de la Côte-d’Or, who was in charge. Saint-Just put big interest in the brother-in-law of Sijas, Luxembourg workshop accounting officer, that one thought had been oppressed and threatened with arbitrary arrest, because he had experienced some difficulties for the purpose of his service with the weapon administration. In this quarrel caused unexpectedly by Saint-Just, one saw clearly his goal, which was to attack the members of the committee who occupied themselves with arms, and to lose their cooperateurs. He also tried to include our collegue Prieur in the inculpation, by accusing him of wanting to lose and imprison this agent. But Prieur denied these malicious claims so well, that Saint-Just didn’t dare to insist on it more. Instead, he turned again towards Carnot, whom he attacked with cruelty; several members of the Committee of General Security assisted. Niou was present for this scandalous scene: dismayed, he retired and feared to accept a pouder mission, a mission that could become, he said, a subject of accusation, since the patriots were busy destroying themselves in this way. We undoubtedly complained about this indecent attack, but was it necessary, at a time when there was not a grain of powder manufactured in Paris, to proclaim a division within the Committee of Public Safety, rather than to make known this fatal secret? In the midst of the most vague indictments and the most atrocious expressions uttered by Saint-Just, Carnot was obliged to repel them by treating him and his friends as aspiring to dictatorship and successively attacking all patriots to remain alone and gain supreme power with his supporters. It was then that Saint-Just showed an excessive fury; he cried out that the Republic was lost if the men in charge of defending it were treated like dictators; that yesterday he saw the project to attack him but that he defended himself. ”It’s you,” he added, ”who is allied with the enemies of the patriots. And understand that I only need a few lines to write for an act of accusation and have you guillotined in two days.”  ”I invite you, said Carnot with the firmness that only appartient to virtue: I provoke all your severity against me, I do not fear you, you are ridiculous dictators.” The other members of the Committee insisted in vain several times to extinguish this ferment of disorder in the committee, to remind Saint-Just of the fairer ideas of his colleague and of more decency in the committee; they wanted to call people back to public affairs, but everything was useless: Saint-Just went out as if enraged, flying into a rage and threatening his colleagues. Saint-Just probably had nothing more urgent than to go and warn Robespierre the next day of the scene that had just happened, because we saw them return together the next day to the committee, around one o'clock: barely had they entered when Saint-Just, taking Robespierre by the hand, addressed Carnot saying: ”Well, here you have my friends, here are the ones you attacked yesterday!” Robespierre tried to speak of the respective wrongs with a very hypocritical tone: Saint-Just wanted to speak again and excite his colleagues to take his side. The coldness which reigned in this session, disheartened them, and they left the committee very early and in a good mood. Réponse des membres des deux anciens Comités de salut public et de sûreté générale (Barère, Collot, Billaud, Vadier), aux imputations renouvellées contre eux, par Laurent Lecointre et declarées calomnieuses par décret du 13 fructidor dernier; à la Convention Nationale (1795), page 103-105

My friends, the committee has taken all the measures within its control at this time to support your zeal. It has asked me to write to you to explain the reasons for some of its provisions. It believed that the main cause of the last failure was the shortage of skilled generals, it will send you all the patriotic and educated soldiers that can be found. It thought it necessary at this time to re-use Stetenhofen, whom it is sending to you, because he has military merit, and because the objections made against him seem at least to be balanced by proofs of loyalty. He also relies on your wisdom and your energy. Salut et amitié. Paris, 15 floréal, year 2 of the Republic.  Robespierre. Robespierre to Saint-Just and Lebas, May 4 1793

Dear collegue, Liberty is exposed to new dangers; the factions arise with a character more alarming than ever. The lines to get butter are more numerous and more turbulent than ever when they have the least pretexts, an insurrection in the prisons which was to break out yesterday and the intrigues which manifested themselves in the time of Hébert are combined with assassination attemps on several occasions against members of the Committee of Public Safety; the remnants of the factions, or rather the factions still alive, are redoubled in audacity and perfidy. There is fear of an aristocratic uprising, fatal to liberty. The greatest peril that threatens it is in Paris. The Committee needs to bring together the lights and energy of all its members. Calculate whether the army of the North, which you have powerfully contributed to putting on the path to victory, can do without your presence for a few days. We will replace you, until you return, with a patriotic representative. The members composing the Committee of Public Safety. Robespierre, Prieur, Carnot, Billaud-Varennes, Barère. Letter to Saint-Just from the CPS, May 25 1794, written by Robespierre. It was penned down just two days after the alleged attempt on Robespierre’s life by Cécile Renault.

Robespierre returned to the Committee a few days later to denounce new conspiracies in the Convention, saying that, within a short time, these conspirators who had lined up and frequently dined together would succeed in destroying public liberty, if their maneuvers were allowed to continue unpunished. The committee refused to take any further measures, citing the necessity of not weakening and attacking the Convention, which was the target of all the enemies of the Republic. Robespierre did not lose sight of his project: he only saw conspiracies and plots: he asked that Saint-Just returned from the Army of the North and that one write to him so that he may come and strengthen the committee. Having arrived, Saint-Just asked Robespierre one day the purpose of his return in the presence of the other members of the Committee; Robespierre told him that he was to make a report on the new factions which threatened to destroy the National Convention; Robespierre was the only speaker during this session. He was met by the deepest silence from the Committee, and he leaves with horrible anger. Soon after, Saint-Just returned to the Army of the North, since called Sambre-et-Mouse. Some time passes; Robespierre calls for Saint-Just to return in vain: finally, he returns, no doubt after his instigations; he returned at the moment when he was most needed by the army and when he was least expected: he returned the day after the battle of Fleurus. From that moment, it was no longer possible to get him to leave, although Gillet, representative of the people to the army, continued to ask for him. Réponse de Barère, Billaud-Varennes, Collot d’Herbois et Vadier aux imputations de Laurent Lecointre (1795)

On 10 messidor (June 28) I was at the Committee of Public Safety. There, I witnessed those who one accuses today (Billaud-Varenne, Barère, Collot-d'Herbois, Vadier, Vouland, Amar and David) treat Robespierre like a dictator. Robespierre flew into an incredible fury. The other members of the Committee looked on with contempt. Saint-Just went out with him. Levasseur at the Convention, August 30 1794. If this scene actually took place, it must have done so one day later, 11 messidor (June 29), considering Saint-Just was still away on a mission on the tenth.

Isn’t it around the same time (a few days before thermidor) that Saint-Just and Lebas would dine at your father’s house with Robespierre? Lebas often dined there, having married one of my sisters. Saint-Just rarely there, but he frequently went to Robespierre’s and climbed the stairs to his office without speaking to anyone. During the dinner which I’m talking about, did you hear Saint-Just propose to Robespierre to reconcile with some members of the Convention and Committees who appeared to be opposed to him? No. I only know that they appeared to be very devided. Do you have any ideas what these divisions were about? I only learned about it through the discussions which took place on this subject at the Jacobins and through the altercation which was said to have taken place at the Committee of Public Safety between Robespierre older and Carnot.  Robespierre’s host’s son Jacques-Maurice Duplay in an interrogation held January 1 1795

Saint-Just then fell back on his report, and said that he would join the committee the next day (9 thermidor) and that if it did not approve it, he would not read it. Collot continued to unmask Saint-Just; but as he focused more on depicting the dangers praying on the fatherland than on attacking the perfesy of Saint-Just and his accomplices, he gradually reassured himself of his confusion; he listened with composure, returning to his honeyed and hypocritical tone. Some time later, he told Collot d'Herbois that he could be reproached for having made some remarks against Robespierre in a café, and establishing this assertion as a positive fact, he admitted that he had made it the basis of an indictment against Collot, in the speech he had prepared. Réponse des membres des deux anciens Comités de salut public et de sûrété générale… (1795) page 107.

I attest that Robespierre declared himself a firm supporter of the Convention and never spoke but gently in the Committee so as not to undermine any of its members. […] Billaud-Varenne said to Robespierre, “We are your friends, we have always walked together.” This dishonesty made my heart shudder. The next day, he called him Peisistratos and had written his act of accusation. […] If you reflect carefully on what happened during your last session, you will find the application of everything I said: a man alienated from the Committee due to the bitterest treatments, when this Committee was, in fact, no longer made up of more than the two or three members present, justified himself before you; he did not explain himself clearly enough, to tell the truth, but his alienation and the bitterness in his soul can excuse him somewhat: he does not know why he is being persecuted, he knows nothing except his misfortune. He has been called a tyrant of opinion: here I must explain myself and shine light on a sophism that tends to proscribe merit. And what exclusive right do you have to opinion, you who find that it is a crime to touch souls? Do you find it wrong that a man should be tenderhearted? Are you thus from the court of Philip, you who make war on eloquence? A tyrant of opinion? Who is stopping you from competing for the esteem of the fatherland, you who find it so wrong that someone should captivate it? There is no despot in the world, save Richelieu, who would be insulted by the fame of a writer. Is it a more disinterested triumph? Cato is said to have chased from Rome the bad citizen who had called eloquence at the tribune of harangues, the tyrant of opinion. No one has the right to claim that; it gives itself to reason and its empire is not the in the power of governments. […] The member who spoke for a long time yesterday at this tribune did not seem to have  distinguished clearly enough who he was accusing. He had no complaints and has not complained either about the Committees; because the Committees still seem to me to be dignified of your estime, and the misfortunes that I have spoken to you of were born of isolation and the extreme authority of several members left alone. Saint-Just defending Robespierre in his last, undelivered speech, July 27 1794

One brings St. Just, Dumas and Payan, all of them shackled, they are escorted by policemen. They stay a good quarter of an hour standing in front of the door of the Committee’s room; one makes them sit down onto a windowsill; they have still not uttered a single word, pleasant people make the persons who surround these three men step aside, and say move back, let these gentlemen see their King sleep on a table, just like a man. Saint-Just moves his head in order to see Robespierre. Saint-Just’s figure appeared dejected and humiliated, his swollen eyes expressed chagrin. Faits recueillis aux derniers instants de Robespierre et de sa saction, du 9 au 10 thermidor (1794) by anonymous.

The Committee of General Security was being spied on by Héron, D…, Lebas: Robespierre knew, through them, word for word, everything that was happening at said committee. This espionage gave rise to more intimate connections between Couthon, Saint-Just and Robespierre. The fierce and ambitious character of the latter gave him the idea of ​​establishing the general police bureau, which, barely conceived, was immediately decreed. Révélations puisées dans les cartons des comités de Salut public et de Sûreté générale ou mémoires (inédits) (1824) by Gabriel Jérôme Sénart.

Intimately linked with Robespierre, [Saint-Just] had become necessary to him, and he had made himself feared perhaps even more than he had desired to be loved. One never saw them divided in opinion, and if the personal ideas of one had to bow to those of the other, it is certain that Saint-Just never gave in. Robespierre had a bit of that vanity which comes from selfishness; Saint-Just was full of the pride that springs from well-established beliefs; without physical courage, and weak in body, to the point of fearing the whistling of bullets, he had the courage of reflection which makes one wait for certain death, so as not to sacrifice an idea. Memoirs of René Levasseur (1829) volume 2, page 324-325.

Often [Robespierre] said to me that Camille was perhaps the one among all the key revolutionaries whom he liked best, after our younger brother and Saint-Just.  Mémoires de Charlotte Robespierre sur ses deux frères (1834) page 139.

After the month of March, 1794, Robespierre's conduct appeared to me to change. Saint-Just was to a great degree the cause of this, and this leader was too youthful ; he urged him into the vain and dangerous path of dictatorship which he haughtily proclaimed. From that time all confidences in the two committees were at an end, and the misfortunes that followed the division in the government became inevitable. […] We did not hide from [Robespierre] that Saint-Just, who was formed of more dictatorial stuff, would have ended by overturning him and occupying his place ; we knew too that he would have us guillotined because of our opposition to his plans; so we overthrew him. Memoirs of Bertrand Barère (1896), volume 1, page 103-104.

About this time Robespierre felt his ambition growing, and he thought that the moment had come to employ his influence and take part in the government. He took steps with certain members of the committee and the Convention, asking them to show a desire that he, Robespierre, should become a member of the Committee of Public Safety. He told the Jacobins it would be useful to observe the work and conduct of the members of the committee, and he told the members of the Convention that there would be more harmony between the Convention and the committee if he entered it. Several deputies spoke to me about it, and the proposal was made to the committee by Couthon and Saint-Just. To ask was to obtain, for a refusal would have been a sort of accusation, and it was necessary to avoid any split during that winter which was inaugurated in such a sinister manner. The committee agreed to his admission, and Robespierre was proposed.  Ibid, volume 2, page 96-97

The continued victories of our fourteen armies were as a cloud of glory over our frontiers, hiding from allied Europe our internecine struggles, and that unhappy side of our national character which acts and reacts so deplorably as much on the whole population as on our nghts and our manners. The enthusiasm with which I announced these victories from the tnbune was so easily seen that Saint- Just and Robespierre, being in the committee at three in the morning, and learning of the taking of Namur and some other Belgian towns, insisted for the future that the letters alone of the generals should be read, without any comments which might exaggerate their contents. I saw at once at whom this reproach was directed, and I took up the gauntlet with the deasion of a man willing to once more merit the hatred of the enemies of our national glory, and the bravery of our armies. Then Samt-Just cried, “ I beg to move that Barère be no longer allowed to add froth to our victories.” […] While Saint-Just was reproving me, Robespierre supported the longsightedness of his friend… […] The next day my report on the taking of Namur was somewhat more carefully drawn up, and I alluded to the observation of my critics, who were envious of the power of public opinion in favour of our troops, then busied in saving the country. This phrase in my report was much commented on, although its meaning was only clear to those who had heard the debate in the committee on the previous evening “Sad are the tunes, sad is the period, when the recital of the triumphs and glories of the armies of the Repubhc is coldly hastened to in this place! Henceforth liberty will be no longer defended by the country, it will be handed over to its enemies!”This pronouncement was not of a nature to be forgiven by Saint-Just and Robespierre, so they determined to supplant me with regard to these reports. They forced that idiot Couthon to attend the Committee of Public Safety at eleven in the morning, before I got there Couthon asked for the letters of the generals that had come in during the night, and took his usual seat at the back of the hall, waiting until the assembly was sufficiently full for him to announce the victones. About one, Couthon, being paralysed and unable to stand up in the tribune, coldly read the news from the armies from his place. This time, no effect was produced in the Assembly, or upon the public. This attempt, authorised by Robespierre and Saint-Just, having missed fire completely, the committee signified its dissatisfaction at the innovation. Ibid, volume 2, page 123-125

After his return from Fleurus, Saint-Just remained some time in Paris, although his mission as representative to the armies of the Sambre and Meuse and the Rhine and Moselle was unfinished. The campaign was only beginning, but he had several projects in hand, and he stayed in committee, or rather his office, where he was always absorbed and thoughtful. Robespierre, in speaking of him at the committee, said familiarly, as if speaking of an intimate friend: ”Saint-Just is silent and observant, but I have noticed, in his personality, he has a great likeness to Charles IX.” This did not flatter Saint-Just, who was a deeper and cleverer revolutionist than Robespierre. One day, when the former was angry about several legislative propositions or decrees that did not please him, Saint-Just said to him, “Be calm, it is the phlegmatic who govern.” Ibid, volume 2, page 139

This tyrannical law was the work of Saint-Just Consult the Momteuv of the 22nd of Germinal, where it is reported with the explanation of his motives, and you will see that, if there had been no committee, SamtJust would have used his power with as much dictatorial fanaticism as did Manus, that great enemy of the Roman anstocracy. Robespierre’s fnend never forgave me for having dimmished the force of this blow. Whilst I was at the tnbune of the Convention, he came, with someone unknown, and perused my register of requisitions. He took down certain names, and some days after, towards midnight, Robespierre and Saint-Just entered the committee, where they did not usually come (for they worked in a private office, under pretext that their duties were completely private) A few moments after their entry Saint-Just complained of the abuse I had made of the requisitions, which had been granted, said he, in such profusion that the law of the 21st of Germinal had become null and void. Ibid, volume 2, page 146

Robespierre, Saint-Just and Couthon were inseparable. The first two had a dark and duplicitous character; they pushed away with a kind of disdainful pride any familiarity or affectionate relationship with their colleagues. The third, a legless man with a pale appearance, affected good-nature, but was no less perfidious than the other two. All three of them had a cold heart, without pity, they interacted only with each other, holding mysterious meetings outside, having a large number of protégés and agents, impenetrable in their designs. Révélations sur le Comité de salut public by Prieur-Duvernois

Robespierre, who had great confidence in Le Bas because he knew his wise and prudent character well, had chosen him to accompany Saint-Just, whose burning love of the fatherland sometimes led to too much severity, and who had a tendency to get carried away. […] [Saint-Just] also had friendship for me and came often enough to our house. […] Finally our providence, our good friend Robespierre, spoke to Saint-Just to engage him to let me depart with them, along with my sister-in-law Henriette. He consented, but with some conditions. Memoirs of Élisabeth Lebas (1901)

Volume 8 — page 153. ”Saint-Just, his (Robespierre’s) only confident.” His only confident? Élisabeth Lebas corrects a passage in Alphonse de Lamartine’s Histoire des Girondins (1847)

The Lamenths and Péthion in the early days, quite rarely Legendre, Merlin de Thionville and Fouché, often Taschereau, Desmoulins and Teault, always Lebas, Saint-Just, David, Couthon and Buonarotti. Élisabeth Lebas regarding visitors to the Duplay’s during the revolution

—

When arriving in Paris in September 1792, Saint-Just first lived on No. 7 rue de Gaillon up until March 1794, and then on No. 3 rue de Caumartin (today’s No. 5) up until his death. Both those places were within a ten minute walking distance from Robespierre’s home on 398 Rue Saint-Honoré.

Saint-Just was away from Paris (and therefore Robespierre) on missions between March 9 to March 31, October 17 to December 4, December 10 to December 30 (1793), January 22 to February 13, April 30 to May 31 and June 10 to June 29 (1794).

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Dirty Thirty

Prompt Day 24: Birthday | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Childhood Trauma, Language | Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Steve & Gareth, Eddie Turns 30, Birthday Blues, Hurt/Comfort, Steve POV

"It's his dirty thirty," Steve says, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear, "We have to do something."

Gareth laughs through the receiver.

"Well, you can dig your own grave if you want to, but I'm definitely not crawling in it with you," Gareth says, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. 

Eddie usually loves his birthday, but several weeks ago the decree came down that he wanted nothing for his birthday. He wanted to pretend it didn't exist. But is Steve really supposed to do nothing to celebrate Eddie's thirtieth birthday? That's a milestone. 

Eddie almost didn't make it to twenty-one. But he did, and that birthday party was so fucking wild that Steve still doesn't remember everything that happened. All he knows is he woke up with a tattoo on his arm that looks suspiciously like Eddie's handiwork, though Eddie still denies it. 

So, Eddie turning thirty should be celebrated. Maybe not a kegger that ends in beloved, if unplanned, tattoos. But still. Something special. 

"What if-" 

"No," Gareth says, "whatever you're thinking. No." 

Steve sighs, in disappointment. 

Gareth's right, is the thing. Eddie isn't one to say he doesn't want something, but secretly does. He said he didn't want anything, so he really doesn't want anything this year.

Steve knows Eddie isn't the type to dwell on getting older. He usually loves that shit. Loves that he lived, and has kept on living. So, this is out of character, and hard for Steve to swallow.

"I know," Steve finally says, "you're right." 

"What was that? Say it again, a little louder. You know my hearing is shitty from years of drumming."

Steve laughs, "Gareth, you're right. Even if I loathe to admit it." 

Gareth cackles, but then turns serious.

"I know you mean well, Steve-o. But let's just do what he wants, okay? Not what we want. Of course, I'll want you to throw me a huge dirty thirty. Strippers coming out of the cake, the whole nine yards," Gareth says. 

"I think your wife might have something to say about that," Steve says, dryly. 

Gareth just laughs. 

Steve finally relents, "Okay, I won't plan anything." 

"Smart man," Gareth says, and hangs up the phone. 

Gareth is Eddie's best friend, but maybe Steve should float this situation past Jeff and Goodie, too. Just in case. Get a second and third opinion. Gareth isn't the be-all and end-all. 

So, Steve gives them each a call.

Jeff is kind, but firm, with his hard no vote. 

Goodie is a hard yes, but it's a trap, and Steve knows better than to fall for it. 

It doesn't take long for Gareth to call back. 

"Steven." 

Steve hangs his head, "I just had to ask them, okay?!" 

"No means no!" Gareth shouts.

"I won't do shit, I promise," Steve says. 

"You better not," Gareth says, and hangs up on him for the second time today.

And Steve doesn't plan anything. 

Eddie turns thirty, and nothing happens. Steve hates it. 

He takes Eddie out to eat, but Eddie wouldn't even pick somewhere nice. No, he just wanted to grab food from the taco truck that always sits in the parking lot of the hardware store.

So, they eat messy tacos, standing up, outdoors, in January, while people carry lumber to their waiting trucks. 

Eddie never mentions it's his birthday, and nobody else does either. 

It's weird. 

That night they lay in bed, and Steve feels like he's missed something big here. It's a gnawing sensation in his gut, and he hates it. Eddie doesn't even seem in the mood for birthday sex. Not that he needs a reason to get Steve into bed, but he usually likes to pretend it's a special gift, just for him, and Steve always goes along with it. 

Not tonight.

Tonight, they lay in the quiet, and Steve feels like this whole day, this whole week, has been off. He's running through every damn thing that could have led up to this, when Eddie finally speaks.

"I'm older than my mom ever was, now," Eddie says in the dark. 

And there it is. The piece Steve was missing. Of course. 

Steve rolls onto his side, wrapping his arm around Eddie. Hugging him tight. 

"I'm sorry, honey, that must be weird." 

Eddie nods, and then tucks his head into his own chest, and cries. Steve can feel his back shaking with the movement.

Steve presses his face into Eddie's back, holding him. There's no fixing this kind of hurt. Steve knows. Eddie has to feel it. But Steve holds him tight, and Eddie lets him, leaning back against Steve's chest, seeking comfort. They've been that comfort for each other for years, a decade now, even if Steve gets it wrong sometimes. Still can't read Eddie's mind, as much as he'd like to, especially in times like these.

"I'm sorry I've been so weird," Eddie says, his voice thick.

"I love you," Steve tells him.

Eddie suddenly rolls in his arms, pressing his face into Steve's neck. Steve just hugs him tighter, rubbing his back. 

"I feel like I'm a little kid again, crying like this," Eddie says, and Steve presses his face into Eddie's hair.

"It's okay to cry," Steve tells him, because it is. It took Steve a long time to realize that, because crying wasn't okay growing up in the Harrington household. 

But as an adult? If he wants to cry. He'll fucking cry. Steve finds he always feels better after he's let it all out. 

"I know," Eddie says, "but it hurts today like it's fresh, and not decades old. I hate it."

Steve rubs his back, then pulls back, "Put on your shoes."

"What? Why?" Eddie asks, and Steve touches his arm, urging him on.

Twenty minutes later, Wayne is holding Eddie as he cries, and this is definitely what Eddie needed. Steve's absolutely sure. 

Eddie can't have his mom, but he still has Wayne. His dad, in all the ways that matter.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter One

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Use of curse words

Notes: I was nervous to start writing from Jasper’s POV, but sometimes you just gotta send it and hope for the best. POV changes in italics at the beginning of their sections!

Word Count: 823

Series Masterlist

• January 24th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Jasper

Another boring day at this high school which means another tally added to the long list of days spent amongst hormonal teenagers for almost no reason.

Almost.

I understand the importance of learning to curb my hunger, to be able to assimilate into society as easily as my coven members. I crave the ability they possess to just exist in public without any hint of the monster that lies within. I’ll give it to Carlisle, not many places could I be immersed in an environment flush with humans, but also have the ability to blame my awkwardness with them on teenage hormones while I adjust. I’m not too keen on taking the risk with literal children, but the risk forces me to maintain a tighter grip on the bloodlust raging inside.

I still don’t like the experimentation of it all.

At least my adopted brothers and sisters are close by whenever I need. I hate that I’m not sure of myself yet, like I’m still in need of the crutch they provide should I need it. This is a never-ending war crawling under my skin. I should be strong enough to control this, I’m nearly 160 years old. I’ve commanded humans and vampires alike, why can I not command my own urges for blood?

I'm deep in my own mind walking alongside Emmett as he talks my ear off about his Jeep and the modifications he contemplates making tonight to kill time, and as we pass the front office to our high school, I nearly miss catching the door before it could crack me across the face.

Once I gain my bearings after the momentary shock of being caught in my thoughts, I let the door drift shut and look to the culprit-

Thoughts are foreign to me all of a sudden.

I immediately stop breathing in shock, my back goes rigid, and blinking becomes a thing of the past as my eyes connect with the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.

I’ve never seen such a beautiful person, human or vampire, in my life. My eyes are greedy as I drink her in. From the white converse, worn overalls, the chunky sweater underneath to ward off the early morning chill, to her beautifully messy hair hastily clipped up in a twist at the base of her head - she’s a breath of fresh air and I’ve been submerged for over a century.

But what really catches me off guard is her scent. She smells like fresh lavender and something else so decadent I can’t quite put my finger on it. I can feel the beginnings of flames licking down my throat at just the microscopic inhale after releasing the door from my death-grip moments ago.

The scent of this bewitching girl had me in such a trance, enough that when Emmett delivers a clap to my shoulder to shake me from my thoughts, I didn’t even realize he was chuckling at my expense.

“Oh god I’m so sorry! I was so focused on my schedule that I didn’t even see you-“ she immediately began apologizing.

“No need to worry, doll. It’ll require a little more than a door to take me out.” I immediately interrupted her nervous rambling. Did I really just say that?

“Jasper Hale.” I stuck my hand out for her to shake, trying to start this introduction all over on the right foot.

I noticed her glance to my outstretched hand and back up to my face as her warm hand slid into mine.

“Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n.” She replied, still looking a little surprised. She squeezed my hand a little before allowing hers to slip from mine.

Just from the small amount of skin to skin contact with this beautiful girl, everything inside of me roars to life. I’m worried that if I glance at my hand, I’ll see the skin crawling from where the heat of her hand lingers.

Surprise, worry, anxiety, embarrassment, self-deprecation, awe - the emotions a rolodex scrolling in rapid succession in the forefront of my mind. The shock of meeting her momentarily throwing my supernatural ability for a loop. I haven’t had such shit control over the emotions surrounding me since I was a newborn vampire.

I’ve never had such an interesting reaction to something, or rather someone, before - it scares me slightly. I can only gape as Y/n turns and makes her way quickly to class.

Reader

Can someone die from stupidity?

I’m at my new high school for less than an hour and I’ve already made the biggest fool of myself. I almost just took out the most attractive human being at this school by complete accident.

After introducing myself to Jasper Hale, I hastily turned around and booked it for my first class in the hopes to avoid further insult to injury.

Smooth, Y/n. Real fucking smooth.

Next

[starry-miki]

This is going to need context lol

TLDR; I had a dream where I hugged a polar bear. And B E A R S

Fully (kinda long) explanation below, (kinda of rant)

So back in January a sudden sleepiness hit me and I was mostly asleep for a few days only being able to stay up for a few hours before returning back to sleep, during that time I started dreaming (for context I don’t dream what’s so ever, it’s usually just a time skip for me, like video game sleeping;) and when I do dream it’s usually of two types: ‘uncomfortable’ dreams (UD) or nightmare (NT). And so for three days back to back the recipe went as, UD, NT, and ?. To give a quick rundown of the first dream, it’s basically scared brown bear getting attacked by humans cause they wanna be idiots and bear attacking back (gotta leave out some context) (also leave the bear alone it was just scared :( )

second one, we don’t talk about it…. It’s honestly a little traumatizing…. 😅

And the final dream, where this drawing inspired from, if I remember I was working at a malls perfume area working customer service and I was just being yelled at by a customer I think because we didn’t sell a certain perfume and it was right before closing time so the customer just kept yelling until finally security took her out and I closed shop then I return back to the register. In the second register there was just a polar bear standing on its two back paws almost like it was just waiting for a customer to ring up, and just asked:

“how was your day?”

And I just replied I just ready to clock out,

(Then the bear goes quiet a bit…)

“do you want a hug?”

….

….sure…

The polar bear just envelops me in a full bear hug (pun intended) and ate me….

.

.

(Jk 😘)

(Continuation) I just stood there hugging the polar bear back. It was cozy, soft and warm, like the type you close your eyes for a bit from feeling cozy and drift off, it honestly felt less than a minute in the hug before i woke up, but after that all dreams ceased the following days and I was able to return back to being ‘normal’.

So you might be wondering how does this connect back to old man, well a polar bear is a bit too specific to dream of, I mean I think most people would imagine a brown bear when they first hear the word bear… polar bear white fur, old man with close enough white hair….coincidence? I think not.. 👁️👁️

If you made it this far awww thank you~ 💕

I would love to hear any type of dreams anybody is willing to share ☺️💕

( depiction from my view of the polar bear in my dream)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

104/150 with lethal company?

104) I can hear it calling my name

.........

[Y/n], January 29th, [Log 001]

---I'm afraid this will be my last log. So I'm keeping this encrypted.

Everyone's gone, but I'm still here. And I'm terrified. We started on this job as strangers, and we became family. Now I'm all alone because of a stupid mask. A piece of scrap we should've just sold off.

But he thought it would be funny to wear. I don't blame him. He was always a jokester, willing to do anything to turn a frown upside down and make light of our dreary trips. I know he didn't mean to hurt us. He thought it was harmless. Honest to god we thought so too.

Until he started vomiting blood and tried grabbing me. He tore off my helmet, along with my tracker, but I managed to get away. I still don't know how. But I wish I was smarter about it, because I got lost.

Then I heard the ship's engines.

They must've thought I was dead. Or maybe they all died and the autopilot kicked in. I'm not sure. I don't even know the current time. But what I do know is that I'm stuck here now. Possibly forever. I could make an SOS but that monster is still outside. I had to barricade myself in this storage room and wait until it goes away.

It keeps knocking. I can hear it calling my name. But I know it's not him.

To anyone who reads this, don't pick up the porcelain masks. They aren't worth shit. It'll tempt you to put it on. Don't. You'll find better loot elsewhere. If you see anyone already wearing it, kill them. Stun them. Run. Whatever. Just don't let it take you.

And if you see me wearing it, put me out of my misery. I promise I'll understand---

Finishing what would likely be your final log, you sighed and slumped back against the wall, letting the tablet slip from your hands.

You don't know how long you've been stuck here--whether it's been hours or days.

But all you know is that the Masked on the other side of the door hasn't left. It was using your coworker's corpse, mimicking his voice as it pounded on the steel and tried convincing you to let it in, even shattering the window. For some reason it refused to leave you alone, and kept begging and begging until it began screaming unintelligently...

That would go on and on until eventually it would cease, weakly clawing at the door, only to rinse and repeat once it rested its voice.

You were starving, trying your best to ration the jar of pickles you were luckily able to find in this storage room.

Unfortunately, that's as far as your luck will go at this point. They were sour and made you want to vomit every time you ate one. But while you didn't want starvation to take your life, you weren't exactly sure how you really wanted to go out instead.

It sure as hell wasn't gonna be from that bastard who took away your friends.

"It's clear....all clear......come on out....the ship is leaving..leave....out.....COME OUT..!! COME OUT!! COMEOUTCOMEOUT-!!"

With your heart hammering in your chest, you curled up and covered your ears, squeezing both eyes shut. 'Fuck, it's losing its mind again...this is a nightmare..why did I ever take this job?' You tried not to focus on the screams so much, and instead prayed for some kind of miracle.

But in space, would anyone really hear your prayers?

Yet somebody must have, because the screaming abruptly stopped a minute later, being replaced by the sounds of heavy thumping and growling drawing near.

You only knew one other alien creature that made those.

And you knew it was pissed off.

Getting up and backing away from the door, you fearfully clutched a stop sign as you heard a series of terrified shrieks, roars, slamming and crashing sounds....before silence followed, save for the low growls you heard earlier and chewing noises.

Cautiously, you went back over and pushed aside one of the things covering up the window, and the sight on the other side was quite nauseating:

The Thumper was hovering over the Masked's body, teeth covered in blood and flesh as it tore into it, clearly wanting to savor this midnight snack.. But eventually it decided to drag the rest of the corpse away and to another part of the facility, only leaving behind a few shattered fragments of white dirty porcelain.

You couldn't believe it.

You were actually happy that a Thumper, of all things, saved your skin.

But you sure as hell didn't want it coming back for a second lunch. Now was your window of opportunity to get out of here. The adrenaline pumping through your veins was the only reason you were able to grab your loot and book it out of that storage room, being careful not to run into that Thumper again.

At least now you could go outside and (hopefully) send an S.O.S.

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Sixteen (18)

Day: Friday, April 12th / 13th* Time: 11:45 PM EST

The club is too loud for Neil to hear Andrew's approach, but suddenly Andrew is pressed into his side by the crowd. Roland looks from Andrew to Neil and back again, brow furrowed a bit in badly-concealed concern. Neil realizes then he is looking for a sign they are all right after what he'd let slip back in January. Nicky knows when he is being ignored, and he has no problem interpreting Roland's searching stare. He interrupts his own story to demand, "Don't you dare tell me you knew about them before I did! Oh my god," he says at Roland's startled, guilty look. "Oh my god, you did. How the hell? We just figured it out a couple weeks ago. How long have you known Andrew was gay?" "Are they a 'them' now?" Roland asks instead of answering. His smile is back, wide and pleased, and he stops filling their tray to pour them shots. Ever the optimist, he sets one out for Neil, too. Nicky passes the glasses out and Neil accepts his after a slight hesitation. Roland plucks his own shot up and tips it in a toast. "I'll drink to that. It's about damned time." "It's not something to be proud of," Aaron says. "Hater," Nicky says, and half-turns to make sure Neil isn't pawning his drink off on Andrew. They knock their drinks back as one and Roland collects empty glasses. Nicky points at Roland as he goes back to mixing drinks. "I noticed you avoided my questions, by the way. You're not sneaky. And what do you mean 'about damned time'?" "You can pry that story out of Andrew," Roland says. "Getting answers out of these two is like trying to get a stone to bleed," Nicky says. "It's impossible and I'm about to get my fingers broken for trying. How'd you know? Is your gaydar more advanced than mine is or—" Nicky's jaw drops as he clues in. "Wait. No way. No way! Did you two —?" "Don't," Aaron cuts in. "Just don't. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to think about it. I want to drink and pretend I don't know any of you." "I thought we were friends," Nicky says to Roland. "How could you keep this from me?" "I'm a bartender," Roland says. "I don't spill drinks or other people's secrets. With that one ill-timed exception," he corrects himself with a small grimace at an impassive Andrew. "Sorry about that, by the way. Didn't mean to jump the gun." "Roland, we are fighting effective immediately," Nicky says with a huff. "Maybe you can win my friendship back with enough drinks tonight. Come on, Aaron, let's see if a table opened up."

Art used with permission by Aymmidumps. Thank you @aymmidumps!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

[addisonstars]

"im setting off, but not without my muse"

written for day 10 of january for @jegulus-microfic with the prompt "lake" totaling 505 words

Nervous with anticipation, James could not focus at all today. He was sure that he bombed his potions test, which was not great. And to make matters even worse, he didn’t see Regulus at all today. He looked for him in Astronomy, the lunch table, and he even slyly asked Sirius. 

“Oh that’s weird, Barty and Evan are without their usual third, Regulus. Sirius, you haven't seen him today have you?” 

Sirius turns over to where Barty and Evan were being usual selves, which meant that Barty was biting Evans hand from where he was trying to quiet Barty, but to no avail. This was a common occurrence among the two of them.

“Huh, you're right.” He shakes his head and turns back to James. “Um, I’m not sure, last I spoke to him was a day ago maybe, everything looked fine to me.” He narrowed his eyes at James. “Why are you asking?” 

Shite. “Oh, I was just curious. No reason.” 

“Uh huh.” He states, but clearly he doesn't buy it; however, James is not about to argue with him because he needs to keep the whole thing on the down-low, and starting something with Sirius is not the way to do that. 

 ***

James arrives at the lake before 9, just in case Regulus was already there. He patiently waits for Regulus to show up, which should be anytime soon now. A few minutes later, or what seems like eternity, he checks his watch and it blinks 9:18. Regulus should be here by now. It takes a minute to get to the lake, but not this long. And Regulus is a punctual person, so James is starting to wonder. 

***

10: 25. The lake looks pretty at this time of night, the almost-full moon casting an ethereal glare on the slow lull of the waves atop the lake's surface. The water glimmers, it's almost like someone sprinkled glitter on top of it, the way it shifts and shines in the soft light. 

James stands up, dusts his hands off and starts walking back to the castle. On his walk back, he thinks about this whole situation. Why did Regulus not show? Granted he wasn't in any of his classes or with his friends, but he couldn't have spared James some of his dignity and showed up tonight? 

Could this mean that James was wrong all along? Maybe he was a bit too hopeful and Regulus does not indeed like James back? As much as it hurts for James to think about these questions, he cannot help but wonder how this happened. He was so sure of, so confident that Regulus liked him back and that he would get the note. Maybe he just didn’t get his note, but there's no way because someone would have brought it to him. 

All the speculations and thoughts spiral around and make James almost dizzy. However, James is not a quitter and he refuses to quit now. So, if Regulus won’t come to him, then he’ll just have to come to Regulus. 

i swear, it only goes up from here i promise!! (title from the lakes by taylor swift! and shoutout to the 505 wc from arctic monkeys hehe. ok ill shut up now)

-a.s.

[gardenschedule]

A collection of Beatles quotes about the breakup

I know I'm preaching to the choir on tumblr.com because people here examine the breakup with empathy, nuance and critical thought. BUT these quotes are convenient if you ever get caught up in frustrating arguments online with male boomer beatle fans who think John and George hated the band and couldn't wait to escape while Paul was desperate to get back together. Sorted by band member and chronological order.

Quotes from/about Ringo:

1969:

People really have tried to typecast us. They think we are still little moptops, and we are not. I don’t want to play in public again. I don’t miss being a Beatle anymore. You can’t get those days back. It’s no good living in the past.

Ringo Starr, 24 March 1969 while filming The Magic Christian in New York

1970:

Ringo?  He was the peacemaker for John, George and himself to Paul and was shaken to find Paul intransigent to the point of saying some pretty blunt things.  But none of the Beatles is vindictive, and pettiness is their natural enemy, and when Paul released his album, Ringo sent a telegram congratulation him on “Maybe I’m Amazed” (one of the tracks) and meant it.  Ringo has a lot of heart and more soul than most and since he knows he will be a Beatles to the grave, he will cooperate should it all come together again.

The Party's Over for the Beatles - written by Derek Taylor

“The Beatles have not split up. We are waiting for John to get back and then we will have a friendly Beatle chat and see what we are going to do. I keep looking around and thinking, ‘Where are they? What are they doing? When will they come and talk to me?’ This is supposed to be a press conference to promote my new film. The other Beatles aren’t here, so I don’t want to be answering questions for them. I hope to see Elvis in Las Vegas before I return to England. But, I will not be in the States for very long.”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

1971:

The Beatles might yet stay together as a group. Paul is the greatest bass player in the world. He is also determined. He goes on and on to see if he can get his own way. While that may be a virtue, it did mean that musical disagreements inevitably rose from time to time. But such disagreements contributed to really great products. […] I was shocked and dismayed, after Mr. McCartney’s promises about a meeting of all four Beatles in London in January, that a writ should have been issued on December 31. I trust Paul and I know he would not lightly disregard his promise. Something serious, about which I have no knowledge, must have happened between Paul’s meeting with George in New York at the end of December. […] My own view is that all four of us together could even yet work out everything satisfactorily.

Ringo Starr’s affidavit – From “The Beatles Diary Volume 2: After The Break-Up 1970-2001” by Keith Badman

No one doubted that Starkey would go along with the majority.

You Never Give Me Your Money – Peter Doggett

Later/unknown year:

RS: But that’s only Imagine. You know what I’m saying? Paul with his Band on the Run. We all started on a bus and small clubs and things like that, but Paul is that type of person. Paul wanted to do it all over again, and he did. And he went through hell. He went through hell. I mean, now he’s not talking to me and that’s too bad, but he started again from the bottom to do the Paul McCartney show. I don’t wanna do it anymore. I did it once.

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

Quotes from/about George:

1969:

“Yeah, quite definitely, but I’d like to do it with the Beatles but not on the old scale, that’s the only drag. With the Ono Band and me playing with Delaney and Bonnie there’s no expectations because it’s really quite anonymous, you just go and do whatever you can do. Once the Beatles are advertised and all the crowds come along they expect too much. I’d like to do the Beatles thing, but more like Delaney and Bonnie with us augmented with a few more singers, and a few trumpets, saxes, organs, and all that"

Interview conducted by Roy Carr, NME, 20 December 1969

1970:

George was greatly disappointed that Paul should come off like he was injured by Klein (business manager) whom George believes to have greatly eased the effects of the present and insured the safety of the future. George view is “Did you have to be so nasty. You can go so far but you can never get back, and you can say things which get in the way forever. For me, I would be glad to play with all of us again.”

The Party's Over for the Beatles - written by Derek Taylor

Q: “You think the Beatles will get together again, then?”

George: “Well, I don’t… I couldn’t tell, you know, if they do or not. I’ll certainly try my best to do something with them again, you know. I mean, it’s only a matter of accepting that the situation is a compromise. In a way it’s a compromise, and it’s a sacrifice, you know, because we all have to sacrifice a little in order to gain something really big. And there is a big gain by recording together – I think musically, and financially, and also spiritually. And for the rest of the world, you know, I think that Beatle music is such a big sort of scene – that I think it’s the least we could do is to sacrifice three months of the year at least, you know, just to do an album or two. I think it’s very selfish if the Beatles don’t record together.”

WABC-FM, May 1, 1970

The Harrison quote that went around the world that spring was purely optimistic: 'Everyone is trying to do his own album, and I am too. But after that I'm ready to go back with the others.'

You Never Give Me Your Money – Peter Doggett

1971:

The only serious row was between Paul and me. In 1968 I went to the United States and had a very easy co-operation with many leading musicians. This contrasted with the superior attitude which, for years past, Paul has shown towards me musically. In January 1969, we were making a film in a studio at Twickenham, which was dismal and cold, and we were all getting a bit fed up with our surroundings. In front of the cameras, as we were actually being filmed, Paul started to ‘get at’ me about the way I was playing. I decided I had had enough and told the others I was leaving. This was because I was musically dissatisfied. After a few days, the others asked me to return and since I did not wish to leave them in the lurch in the middle of filming and recording, and since Paul agreed that he would not try to interfere or teach me how to play, I went back. Since the row, Paul has treated me more as a musical equal. I think this whole episode shows how a disagreement could be worked out so that we all benefited. I just could not believe it when, just before Christmas, I received a letter from Paul’s lawyers. I still cannot understand why Paul acted as he did.

George Harrison’s affidavit – From “The Beatles Diary Volume 2: After The Break-Up 1970-2001” by Keith Badman

“In a “Come back Paul, all is forgiven” mood, George Harrison said this week: “I wish we could all be friends again. It’s a drag that things are as they are, because Apple is now becoming much more what we originally wanted it to be. “Personally I’d like to see Paul back at Apple and let him do what he wants to do. After all the new studio is his studio, too, and I’d like to see it all happening for us all.”

October 1971 Record Mirror

When John finally hinted that he would be willing to play with George when he appeared at Madison Square Garden. “Well, maybe I can come and help ya,” he said. “That’d be nice.” George glowered at John. Then George’s anger really burst forth. “Where were you when I needed you!” he snapped. It was the first of a series of explosions, each of them followed by moments of tense silence. “I did everything you said. But you weren’t there,” he repeated. “You always knew how to reach me,” John would reply evenly to each of these outbursts. There was no doubt in my mind, watching those two, that George’s anger with John had been accumulating for years. It was exactly the kind of situation that John usually ran from. But I could see in that moment that he loved George enough to remain calm and still as George drilled away at him. George said that repeatedly in the past he had sung what John wanted him to sing, said what John wanted him to say. Because John wanted it, George had gone along with the decision to go with Allen Klein. In the nearly four years since, John had virtually ignored him, a fact that pained George deeply. George’s voice grew even more harsh as he blasted John for his sudden appearance, as if out of nowhere, to offer an evening’s worth of help. Yet again George said furiously, I did everything you said, but you weren’t there.”

May Pang, Loving John

1973:

"George came into the office and said, 'I wanted you to know before anyone else. We're leaving Allen.' I said, 'Why?' And he said, 'We'll never get together again with Allen managing us.' And that was it. They left. George always had that distant hope."

Allan Stecker, Mojo interview 2023 (on Monday April 2 1973)

"[Allen Klein] made [John, George and Ringo] feel financially and artistically secure,” Steckler reckoned. So why did they decide that Klein had to go? Steckler believed he knew the answer. “George called me and said, ‘We’re not re-signing with Klein,’” he recalled. “I asked him why, and he said, 'The only way The Beatles can get together again is if Allen isn’t there. I’m ready to do it, so is Ringo, and I think we can persuade John to go along with it. But if we’re going to work with Paul, we need to get rid of Klein.’"

Peter Doggett, You Never Give Me Your Money

1978:

Personally, I’m not opposed to the idea, if it’s done through mutual agreement. But the pressure seems to be bigger than any of us, and when they talk of sums like $50 or $60 million, it’s almost a farce. I know Paul’s booked for the next few years, and John may have lost interest in the idea. Ringo and I are closest on it; we both feel it’s not impossible, but it’s highly unlikely, if only because of the legal and business maze that would have to be resolved before the four of us set foot on stage together.

M. George Haddad interview with George Harrison for Men Only magazine (Nov. 1978 issue)

Quotes from/about Paul:

1970:

On the eve of the release of the Beatles new movie and album “Let it Be,” Paul McCartney said, “I quit,” or “I think I quit,” which is roughly the same thing. As a publicity stunt, it’s as good or bad as any stunt they ever appeared to pull. But like every stunt they never did pull, this isn’t one either. McCartney’s declaration of independence was entirely impromptu, spontaneous and personal and so far had the group’s lines of communication become crossed that none of the Beatles really knew when the album would be out, or whether, nor did they greatly care.

...

I guess the way it stacks up now and the way it was around the time when Paul dropped the big on is that he wants right out of it all and they don’t.

The Party's Over for the Beatles - written by Derek Taylor

"John's reply was that I was daft!" He then said he wanted to leave the Beatles and wanted an immediate divorce. None of us really knew what to do about the situation, but we decided to wait until our film 'Let it Be' came out in April. I got bored and made 'McCartney' instead!"

Paul McCartney, in his first magazine interview since the split, tells FLIP's Keith Altham... "THE BEATLES ARE FINISHED!"

When we had to go to the studios, Linda would make the booking and we’d take some sandwiches and a bottle of grape juice and put the baby on the floor and it was all like a a holiday. So as a natural turn of events from looking for something to do, I found that I was enjoying working alone as much as I’d enjoyed the early days of the Beatles. I haven’t really enjoyed the Beatles for the last two years.

Paul, Interview for Evening Standard • Tuesday, April 21-22, 1970

Klein tells George he will get him more money and he tells Ringo the same. He tells them all that there are four first-class Beatles, not two and John doesn’t mind being told this. Paul doesn’t like any of it, none of it. He has a father-in-law who is also from New York and his name is Lee Eastman. Lee Eastman is also a toughie, but his manners are more formal than Klein’s and some people like him. Paul would like Eastman to be the Mr Big Apple needs. John wants Mr Klein to be Mr Big. A year passes. It is 1970. Paul still doesn’t like Klein but John digs him more than ever and George digs him more than that and Ringo doesn’t mind him. Paul? He is so uptight about Klein he only leaves the Beatles, that’s all.

As Time Goes By - Derek Taylor

1971:

Klein: “If Paul McCartney doesn’t get his way, he bitches. He may have a choirboy image in the press and with fans, but I’m here to tell you its bullshit. If anybody broke up the Beatles, it was him.”

Allen Klein, Playboy: A candid conversation with the embattled manager of the Beatles. (November, 1971) (note: obviously we should not trust a word Klein says, but at this point why isn't he repeating John's party line that he wanted a divorce?)

I think John thought I was using this press release for publicity-as I suppose, in a way, it was. So it all looked very weird, and it ruffled a few feathers. The good thing about it was that we all had to finally own up to the fact that we'd broken up three or four months before. We'd been ringing each other quite constantly, sort of saying, 'Let's get it back together.' And I think me, George and Ringo did want to save things. But I think John was, at that point, too heavily into his new life-which you can't blame him.

You Never Give Me Your Money – Peter Doggett

1972:

“We planned a big festival for one afternoon in Central Park, and ‘Imagine’ was the theme. Each retarded person from an institution would be paired with one able-bodied volunteer – twenty-five thousand people in the park. The issue arose whether the retarded should come to the matinee concert at Madison Square Garden. Obviously it would be a huge revenue loss. So Allen Klein and John just bought $50,000 worth of tickets and gave them to the retarded kids and volunteers.” Suddenly John got cold feet, after the concert had been sold out for weeks. “John said he didn’t want to do it,” Rivera recalled. “He said he hadn’t played in public for years, he hadn’t rehearsed with a band, he was just too nervous. …When they had that rush of insecurity, Yoko told me that she and John called Paul and Linda. They said, ‘Let’s bury the hatchet and appear together at the concert.’ Why Paul said ‘No’ I’ll never know.” Rivera and others managed to calm John’s fears and get him to start rehearsing with Elephant’s Memory.

Jon Wiener, Come Together: John Lennon in His Time. (1984)

“A few months ago, John asked us to do a concert with him at Madison Square Garden (note: same concert as the above quote) and it’s a pity now that we didn’t do it. I didn’t want to do it at the time but we will do things, I’m sure. I don’t see any reason why all four Beatles shouldn’t be on stage at some time all playing together and having a good time. I don’t think you’ll ever get the Beatles reforming, because that’s all gone. The Beatles were a special thing in a special era and I really couldn’t see it all coming together again. But I think it’s daft to assume that just because we had a couple of business upsets we won’t ever see each other again, or that if John has a concert some time we won’t go up and play on it.”

Paul McCartney, interview with Ray Connolly in The Evening Standard, December 2, 1972 (source: The Ray Connolly Beatles Archive)

“Don’t ever call me ex-Beatle McCartney again. That was one band I was with. Now I’m not with them. I’ve got another band. We won’t do things the same way any more. We’re not so bothered in trying to please other people all the time even though we obviously don’t try to displease them. All we want, in Wings, is to please ourselves with our music, That’s all.

“If people start fan clubs for us, do that kind of thing from the past, well, fine. But we won’t start one. I just get irritated by people constantly harping on the past, about the days when I was with that other band, the Beatles.

“The other Beatles get together and that is fine, but I’m almost always in another part of the world. The Beatles was my old job. We’re not like friends – we just know each other. But we don’t work together. so there’s no point keeping up old relationships.”

“All I know for sure is that I’ll never be conned again. I’m 30 now and, after what I’ve been through. I should know my way around. I get angry with fans, who interrupt my life, even now. I get fed up with the feeling that I was losing my identity, becoming some kind of legend, not a person. And I’m downright angry with the people who keep trying to get me back with the others again.

Paul McCartney and 'that other band'' by Peter Jones, in the Liverpool Echo, 13 December 1972

There’s no hard feelings or anything, but you just don’t hang around with your ex-wife. We’ve completely finished. ’Cos, you know, I’m just not that keen on John after all he’s done. I mean, you can be friendly with someone, and they can shit on you, and you’re just a fool if you keep friends with them. I’m not just going to lie down and let him shit on me again. I think he’s a bit daft, to tell you the truth. I talked to him about the Klein thing, and he’s so misinformed it’s ridiculous.'

Paul interviewed by student journalist Ian McNulty for the Hull University Torch, May 1972 [From The McCartney Legacy, Volume 1: 1969 – 1973 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2022

1976:

“The truth is very ordinary. The truth is just that since we split up, we’ve not seen much of each other. We visit occasionally, we’re still friends, but we don’t feel like getting up and playing again. You can’t tell that to people. You say that and they say, ‘How about this money, then?’ ‘Or how about this?’ And you end up having to think of reasons why you don’t feel like it. And, of course, any one of them taken on its own isn’t really true, but I was just stuck for an answer, so I said I wouldn’t do it just for the money anyway. And I saw John last time, he says, ‘I agreed with that.’ But there’s a million other points in there. A whole million angles. “I tell you, before this tour, I was tempted to ring everyone up and say, ‘Look, is it true we’re not going to get back together, ‘cause we all pretty much feel like we’re not. And as long as I could get everyone to say, ‘No, we’re definitely not,’ then I could say ‘It’s a definite no-no.’ But I know my feeling, and I think the others’ feeling, in a way, is we don’t want to close the door to anything in the future. We might like it someday.

Paul McCartney, Rolling Stone: Yesterday, Today, and Paul. (June 17th, 1976)

Later/unknown year:

“John phoned me once to try and get the Beatles back together again, after we’d broken up. And I wasn’t for it, because I thought that we’d come too far and I was too deeply hurt by it all. I thought, “Nah, what’ll happen is that we’ll get together for another three days and all hell will break loose again. Maybe we just should leave it alone.”

Paul, November 1995 Club Sandwich interview

“ELLEN: So was there ever a time when both you and John Lennon wanted to reform the Beatles? PAUL: There was a time… let’s put it this way: there was never a time when all four of us wanted to do it. And each time it was always someone different who didn’t fancy it And I’m actually glad of that now. Because the Beatles’ work is a body of work. There’s nothing to be ashamed of there. In the end we decided we should leave well enough alone. The potential disappointment of coming on and not being as good as the Beatles had been… that was a risk we shouldn’t take

Paul McCartney, interview w/ Mark Ellen for Radio Times. (October 20th-26th, 2007)

Quotes from/about John:

1969:

JOHN: The point is, if George leaves, do we want to carry on The Beatles? I do. [inaudible; drowned out by mic feedback] And I’d just get another member of the group and carry on. But if The Beatles split, well, I’ll get another group. [to Paul and Yoko?] I’m a singer not a dancer, baby! Woo-hoo!

January 10th, 1969 (Twickenham Film Studios, London)

Friday, 21 March, John: “Everything we do, we shall be doing together. I don’t mean I shall break up The Beatles, or anything, but we want to share everything.”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

MICHAEL: But funny enough, the other day, when we were talking, he said that he really did not want not to be a Beatle. He said he really looked forward – not, you know. Meaning he didn’t want that screwed up.

[T]he Beatles are always discussing, “Should we go on or shouldn’t we? Why are we together for now?” And what it gets down to is I like playing rock n’ roll and I like making rock n’ roll records. Now, I’ve got either the choice— if I want the whole LP to myself — is to get a few musicians together. Now, I know that— I’ve played with other musicians — just very rarely, but occasionally I’ve played with them — and it needs some work together to get anything going. I don’t like session men, so I try not to use them. I don’t like violinists or anything these days. I try not to use anybody but the Beatles. And if I wanted to make a record I’d chose the Beatles! I can say, “Give me a ‘Be Bop A Lula’”. So therefore, we’ve got that going. And even from a commercial point, when we discuss it, “What’s the biggest selling name? Beatles or John Lennon and The Fabs? Or George Harrison and The Fabs?” Which— Where’s our biggest market? It’s Beatles! Who are our closest friends? Beatles! Who do we have the most arguments with? Beatles. So Beatles is it!

John Lennon and Yoko Ono give a series of interviews at the Apple Corps building at 3 Savile Row, London (Friday, 12 September 1969).

JOHN: See they’re growing up too, you know. And uh, we all want Beatles still cause it’s, it’s a big power and it’s good power, you know. And we’ve no intention of splitting it, you know. Any of us. I can’t be specific about it, you know. But obviously, I’m deeply involved with Yoko, it has some…you know, maybe less reliant on the others but so it goes for the others too, you know. That as we’re all sort of branching out. Which we were occasionally all the time, you know. Like I did How I Won The War, I wrote In His Own Write and Paul wrote the music for Family Way, etc. and George went off to India with sitars and that. So it’s only, you know. We nip off and come back and do some work then nip off again, you know.

John and Yoko gave several interviews on September 12, 1969

[Will] The Beatles split up? It just depends how much we all want to record together. I don’t know if I want to record together again. I go off and on it. I really do.”

John Lennon, interview w/ Alan Smith for NME. (December 13th, 1969)

JOHN: I was really losing interest in just doing the Beatles’ bit – and I think we all were – but Paul did a good job in holding us together for a few years while we were sort of undecided about what to do, you know. And I found out what to do, and it didn’t really have to be with the Beatles. It could have been, if they wanted… But uh, it got that I couldn’t wait for them to make up their minds about peace or whatever. About committing themselves. It’s the same as the songs. So I’ve gone ahead – and I’d have liked them to have come along.

YORKE: Did you ever try to get them into the peace scene?

JOHN: I did a little at first, but I think it was too much like Yoko and me and what we’re doing and trying to get them to come along; and I think they reacted. I hassled them too much, so I’m really leaving them alone. Maybe they’ll come along, wagging their tails behind them, and if not, good luck to them.

John Lennon, interview w/ Ritchie Yorke. (December 23rd, 1969)

“This is why I’ve started with the Plastic Ono and working with Yoko . . . to have more outlet. There isn’t enough outlet for me in the Beatles. The Ono Band is my escape valve. And how important that gets, as compared to the Beatles for me, I’ll have to wait and see.

NEW MUSICAL EXPRESS DECEMBER 13, 1969

1970:

Why do you think he [Paul] has lost interest in Apple?

That’s what I want to ask him! We had a heavy scene last year as far as business was concerned and Paul got a bit fed-up with all the effort of business. I think that’s all it is. I hope so.

John Lennon interviewed by Roy Shipston for Disc and Music Echo (February 28, 1970)

John’s view is: “Okay. If this is it, this is it. We’ve all left the Beatles anyway.” If Paul were to approach him and say, “Let’s do it together again,” he probably would; with no more words, he probably would do it.

The Party's Over for the Beatles - written by Derek Taylor

Now even Lennon was prepared to hint at a positive outcome: 'I've no idea if the Beatles will work together again, or not. I never really have. It was always open. If somebody didn't feel like it, that's it! It could be a rebirth or a death. We'll see what it is. It'll probably be a rebirth.'

You Never Give Me Your Money – Peter Doggett

'Eventually,' McCartney recalled, 'I went and said, "I want to leave. You can all get on with Klein and everything, just let me out." Having not spoken to Lennon for several weeks, he sent him a letter that summer, pleading that the former partners 'let each other out of the trap'. As McCartney testified, Lennon 'replied with a photograph of himself and Yoko, with a balloon coming out of his mouth in which was written, "How and Why?" I replied by letter saying, "How by signing a paper which says we hereby dissolve our partnership. Why because there is no partnership." John replied on a card which said, "Get well soon. Get the other signatures and I will think about it.” Communication was at an end. Yet the press continued to believe, fired by hope more than evidence, that it was only a matter of days before the four men healed their wounds. The stories taunted McCartney, who fired off a letter to the prime offender, Melody Maker: 'Dear Mailbag, In order to put out of its misery the limping dog of a news story which has been dragging itself across your pages for the past year, my answer to the question, "Will the Beatles get together again?"...is no.' He had finally pronounced the verdict that was missing from his self-interview in April: the Beatles were no more.

You Never Give Me Your Money – Peter Doggett (note: John is stalling)

For McCartney, and maybe Harrison and Starkey as well, this signified hope. ‘For about three or four months,' he recalled years later, 'George, Ringo and I rang each other to ask, "Well, is this it, then?" It wasn't that the record company had dumped us. It was just a case of: we might get back together again. Nobody quite knew if it was one of John's little flings, and that maybe he was going to feel the pinch in a week's time and say, “I was only kidding.” I think John did kind of leave the door open. He'd said, “I'm pretty much leaving the group, but...” McCartney testified in 1971, ‘I think all of us (except possibly John) expected we would come together again one day.

You Never Give Me Your Money – Peter Doggett

John: George was on the session for Instant Karma, Ringo’s away and Paul’s – I dunno what he’s doing at the moment, I haven’t a clue.

Interviewer: When did you last see him?

John: Uh, before Toronto. I’ll see him this week actually. If you’re listening, I’m coming round. (Note: as AKOM point out, Toronto was before the divorce meeting. Why is he pretending it never happened?)

Feb 6th 1970 (audio snippet approx 1:14:00)

Interviewer: What about the Beatles all together as a group?

John: As soon as they’re ready, you know, we had half the Beatles on again at the Lyceum Ballroom. Uh it was George and me but we also had Delaney and Bonney and 17 piece band we had on, it was a great experience. Uh it should be like that you know, if we were doing that and all the Beatles wanted to come it would be great, and it would be no great thing about ‘oh the Beatles are coming back on stage’ like they expect, sorta of, Buddha and Mohammad to come on and play. I keep saying that, but that’s the fear the Beatles have, including me as a Beatle, about performing. It’s such a great – so much expected of us, you know, but you see George has been on tour with Bonnie and Delaney playing and I’ve been drifting around playing, it’s just playing isn’t the hang up. It’s going on as the Beatles that’s the problem for us.

1970 (audio snippet approx 1:23:00)

Interviewer: Do you care about making another Beatles album?

John: I think Beatles is a good communication media you know, and I wouldn’t destroy it out of hand or dissolve it out of hand. So that’s what I think about Beatles.

1970 (audio snippet approx 1:41:00)

Interviewer: Why do you think rumours like this start?

John: Because there was a lot of tension around the Allen Klein coming in days and the ATV thing going on, and the Beatles were under a lot of pressure and we had to be together all the time, fighting and arguing and listening to all the different business things. And so we’re taking a break from each other like we always did after a tour end. The business thing is like a heavy tour, in it we may get back in abbey road and a couple of singles and under a great strain you know, doing that business. And so now we’re just taking a break from each other.

1970 (audio snippet approx 1:41:00)

You can’t pin me down because I haven’t got- there’s no- it’s completely open, whether we do it or not. Life is like that, whether I make another Plastic Ono album or Lennon album or anything is open you know, I don’t like to prejudge it. And I have no idea if the Beatles are working together again or not, I never did have, it was always open. If someone didn’t feel like it, that’s it. And maybe if one of us starts it off, the others will all come round and make an album you know.

1970 (audio snippet approx 1:43:00)

In 1964 I produced a book, they were asking me that then, and why should I not write a book? The Beatles wanted me to do it, they wanted me to do these LPs, you know, they have nothing against it – I want George to produce and record any records he wants to. It doesn’t interfere with Beatle time, I use my own time to do other things and so do they. The Beatles will remain, there’s no doubt about that. And we’ve been saying it since She Loves You, we’re together and that’s it.

1970 (audio snippet approx 1:45:00)

I just uh I wanted to do it [announce the breakup] you know, should’ve done it. I think damn, shit, what a fool I was. But there were many pressures at that time, I think Northern Songs and all that was going on, it would’ve upset the whole thing. (Note: again as AKOM point out, the Northern Songs fight ended the day before the divorce meeting. Why would the pressure of Northern Songs impact John's decision not to announce the breakup?)

Lennon Remembers

1971:

INT: I asked Lee Eastman for his view of the split, and what it was that prompted Paul to file suit to dissolve the Beatles' partnership, and he said it was because John asked for a divorce.

JOHN: Because I asked for a divorce? That's a childish reason for going into court, isn't it?

John Lennon interviewed by Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld at the St. Regis Hotel, September 5, 1971

Well, there was this Japanese monk, and it happened in the last 20 years. He was in love with this big golden temple, y’know, he really dug it, like—and you know he was so in love with it, he burnt it down so that it would never deteriorate. That’s what I did with the Beatles.

John Lennon, interview w/ Alan Smith for NME: At home with the Lennons. (August 7th, 1971)

MCCABE: Let’s talk a bit about Paul’s aversion to Klein. From what we’ve read it seemed as if this wasn’t there in the beginning, even though Paul wanted the Eastmans to run things. But it came on later as things progressed. And yet despite this, we gather that Klein was still hoping that Paul would return to the group.

JOHN: Oh, he’d love it if Paul would come back. I think he was hoping he would for years and years. He thought that if he did something, to show Paul that he could do it, Paul would come around. But no chance. I mean, I want him to come out of it, too, you know. He will one day. I give him five years, I’ve said that. In five years he’ll wake up.

MCCABE: But Klein is still hoping?

JOHN: He said to me, “Would you do it, if we got your immigration thing fixed? Or if we could get rid of the drug conviction?”

YOKO: And people don’t understand, you know. There’s so many groups that constantly announce they’re going to split, they’re going to split, and they can announce it every year, and it doesn’t mean they’re going to split. But people don’t understand what an extraordinary position the Beatles are in, you know. In every way. They’re in such an extraordinary position that they’re more insecure than other people. And so Klein thinks he’ll give Paul two years Linda-wise, you know. And John said, “No, Paul treasures things like children, things like that. It will be longer.” And of course, John was right.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

It was true, that when the group was touring, their work and social relationships were close, but there had been a lot of arguing, mainly about musical and artistic matters. I suppose Paul and George were the main offenders in this respect, but from time to time we all gave displays of temperament and threatened to ‘walk out’. Of necessity, we developed a pattern for sorting out our differences, by doing what any three of us decided. It sometimes took a long time and sometimes there was deadlock and nothing was done, but generally that was the rule we followed and, until recent events, it worked quite well. Even when we stopped touring, we frequently visited each other’s houses in or near London and personally we were on terms as close as we had ever been. If anything, Paul was the most sociable of us. From our earliest days in Liverpool, George and I, on the one hand, and Paul, on the other, had different musical tastes. Paul preferred ‘pop-type’ music and we preferred what is now called ‘underground’. This may have led to arguments, particularly between Paul and George, but the contrast in our tastes, I am sure, did more good than harm, musically speaking, and contributed to our success.

If Paul is trying to break us up because of anything that happened before the Klein–Eastman power struggle, his reasoning does not make sense to me.

John Lennon’s affidavit – From “The Beatles Diary Volume 2: After The Break-Up 1970-2001” by Keith Badman

JOHN: Yeah, Gilbert and Sullivan. I always remember watching the film with Robert Morley and thinking, “We’ll never get to that.” [pause] And we did, which really upset me. But I never really thought we’d be so stupid. But we did.

WIGG: What, like splitting like they did?

JOHN: Like splitting and arguing, you know, and then they come back, and one’s in a wheelchair twenty years later—

YOKO: [laughs] Yes, yes.

JOHN: —and all that. [laughs; bleak] I never thought we’d come to that, because I didn’t think we were that stupid. But we were naive enough to let people come between us. And I think that’s what happened. [pause] But it was happening anyway. I don’t mean Yoko, I mean businessmen, you know. All of them.

October, 1971 (St Regis Hotel, New York)

Q: "Did Klein hope to get Paul back into the group?"

JOHN: (laughs) "He came up with this plan. He said, "Just ring Paul and say, 'We're recording next Friday, are you coming?' So it nearly happened. Then Paul would have forfeited his right to split by joining us again. But Paul would never, never do it, for anything, and now I would never do it."

St Regis Hotel Interview, September 5th, 1971.

John would say things like, ‘It was rubbish. The Beatles were crap.’ Also, ‘I don’t believe in The Beatles, I don’t believe in Jesus, I don’t believe in God.’ Those were quite hurtful barbs to be flinging around, and I was the person they were being flung at, and it hurt. So, I’m having to read all this stuff, and on the one hand I’m thinking, ‘Oh fuck off, you fucking idiot,’ but on the other hand I’m thinking, ‘Why would you say that? Are you annoyed at me or are you jealous or what?’ And thinking back fifty years later, I still wonder how he must have felt. He’d gone through a lot. His dad disappeared, and then he lost his Uncle George, who was a father figure; his mother; Stuart Sutcliffe; Brian Epstein, another father figure; and now his band. But John had all of those emotions wrapped up in a ball of Lennon. That’s who he was. That was the fascination.

I tried. I was sort of answering him here, asking, ‘Does it need to be this hurtful?’ I think this is a good line: ‘Are you afraid, or is it true?’ – meaning, ‘Why is this argument going on? Is it because you’re afraid of something? Are you afraid of the split-up? Are you afraid of my doing something without you? Are you afraid of the consequences of your actions?’ And the little rhyme, ‘Or is it true?’ Are all these hurtful allegations true? This song came out in that kind of mood. It could have been called ‘What the Fuck, Man?’ but I’m not sure we could have gotten away with that then.

Paul McCartney, on “Dear Friend”. In The Lyrics (2021).

Q: “If you got, I don’t know what the right phrase is… ‘back together’ now, what would be the nature of it?” JOHN: “Well, it’s like saying, if you were back in your mother’s womb… I don’t fucking know. What can I answer? It will never happen, so there’s no use contemplating it. Even if I became friends with Paul again, I’d never write with him again. There’s no point. I write with Yoko because she’s in the same room with me.” YOKO: “And we’re living together.” JOHN: “So it’s natural. I was living with Paul then, so I wrote with him. It’s whoever you’re living with. He writes with Linda. He’s living with her. It’s just natural.””

St. Regis Hotel Interview, September 5, 1971

1973:

My last question was inevitable… Any chance of us seeing the four Beatles on a stage or record together again? “There’s always a chance,” grinned John. “As far as I can gather from talking to them all, nobody would mind doing some work together again. There’s no law that says we’re not going to do something together, and no law that says we are. If we did do something I’m sure it wouldn’t be permanent. We’d do it just for that moment. I think we’re closer now than we have been for a long time. I call the split the divorce period and none of us ever thought there’d be a divorce like that. “That’s the way things turned out. We know each other well enough to talk about it.””

John Lennon, interview w/ Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker. (November 3rd, 1973)

MINTZ: Would you want to initiate that happening?

JOHN: Uh… Well, I couldn’t say. [long pause]

MINTZ: If you could, I mean is it something you would like to see yourself doing?

JOHN: If I could… I don’t know, Elliot, because you know me, I go on instinct. And if the idea hit me tomorrow, you know, I might call them and say, “Come on, let’s do something.” And so I couldn’t really tell you. If it happens, it’ll happen.

MINTZ: So it’s not something that you would totally rule out as never taking place again?

JOHN: No, no. My memories are now all fond and the wounds are healed. And if we do it, we do it, if we record, we record. I don’t know. As long as we make music.

November 1st/10th, 1973 (Malibu, Los Angeles): For Eyewitness News on KABC TV Los Angeles, Elliot Mintz

1974:

“No, no, no,” he answered and he meant it. “I’m going to be an ex-Beatle for the rest of my life so I might as well enjoy it, and I’m just getting around to being able to stand back and see what happened. A couple of years ago I might have given everybody the impression I hate it all, but that was then. I was talking when I was straight out of therapy and I’d been mentally stripped bare and I just wanted to shoot my mouth off to clear it all away. Now it’s different.

“When I slagged off the Beatle thing in the papers, it was like divorce pangs, and me being me it was blast this and fuck that, and it was just like the old days in the Melody Maker, you know, ‘Lennon Blasts Hollies’ on the back page. You know, I’ve always had a bit of a mouth and I’ve got to live up to it. Daily Mirror: ‘Lennon beats up local DJ at Paul’s 21st birthday party’. Then we had that fight Paul and me had through the Melody Maker, but it was a period I had to go through.

John Lennon, interview w/ Ray Coleman for Melody Maker: Lennon – a night in the life. (September 14th, 1974)

John seemed to be in a very strange state of mind about the dissolution. From the hints he had dropped since we had been together, I had learned that John’s departure from the Beatles had essentially been Yoko’s idea. Without Yoko to drive him forward, he felt strangely ambivalent about officially ending the Beatles at that moment. By nature, also, he felt inclined to take a position opposite from that of Paul McCartney. Paul desperately wanted that agreement signed. Whether or not it was the best thing for him to do, John, on principle, was inclined not to want to sign it.

May Pang, Loving John. (1983)

I’ll tell you exactly why I said that. We had a business meeting to break up The Beatles, one of the famous ones that we’d been having — we’re still having them 17 years later, actually. We all flew in to New York specially. George came off his disastrous tour, Ring of flew in and we were at the Plaza for the big final settlement meeting. John was half a mile away at the Dakota and he sent a balloon over with a note that said ‘Listen to this balloon.’ I mean, you’ve got to be pretty cool to handle that kind of stuff.

George blew his cool and rang him up: ’You fucking maniac!! You take your fucking dark glasses off and come and look at us, man!!’ and gave him a whole load of that shit. Around the same time at another meeting we had it all settled, and John asked for an extra million pounds at the last minute. So of course that meeting blew up in disarray. Later, when we got a bit friendlier — and from time to time there would be these little stepping-stones of friendship in the Apple sea — I asked him why he’d actually wanted that million and he said, I just wanted cards to play with. It’s absolutely standard business practice. He wanted a couple of jacks to up your pair of nines. He was one great guy, but part of his greatness was that he wasn’t a saint.

Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986) (note: John is STILL stalling)

At that moment, John was at his most unpredictable. Suddenly his fears that his money was going to be taken away from him, that he was going to be cheated, that he had to have as much money as possible, had all come into play. This was also John’s way of resisting the reality that the Beatles were officially about to come to end, and that Paul was about to prevail.

Loving John, MAY PANG (1983)

1975:

“At the time I was thinking that I didn’t want to do all that Beatles—but now I feel differently. I’ve lost all that negativity about the past and I’d be happy as Larry to do ‘Help’. I’ve just changed completely in two years. I’d do ‘Hey Jude’ and the whole damn show, and I think George will eventually see that. If he doesn’t, that’s cool. That’s the way he wants to be.”

John Lennon, interview w/ Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker: Rock on! (March 8th, 1975)

1976:

“I’ve always felt that splitting up was a mistake in many ways” John Lennon has said, and he believes a Beatles revival “would undoubtedly produce some great music.”

Australian Woman’s Weekly, 1976

1980:

“I and the other three former Beatles have plans to stage a reunion concert…” (Part of a statement in the legal disposition brought by Apple Corps against the ‘Beatlemania’ stage musical for trademark infringement. John was referring to an event that was to be filmed for a documentary being put together by Neil Aspinall. It was abandoned/shelved after John’s death, but ultimately became the Anthology project)

John Lennon, 1980

“Just days before his brutal death, John was making plans to go to England for a triumphant Beatles reunion. His greatest dream was to recreate the musical magic of the early years with Paul, George and Ringo … (he) felt that they had traveled different paths for long enough. He felt they had grown up and were mature enough to try writing and recording new songs.”

Yoko Ono, quoted in The Beatles: The Dream Is Over - Off The Record 2 by Keith Badman

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 6) - Two Years After Dean Left

Summary: During her gap year, Y/N goes to visit Dean for his birthday in Sioux Falls while trying to figure out her next step in life. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Square: Car broke down @spnfluffbingo

Word Count: 6,763 

Warnings: underage, age gap (reader is 18, Dean is 22-23), reader is feeling a bit lost, angst, past injury (scars), mentions of physical abuse by a parent/violence/death/prison, language, slow burn, kissing/cuddling, talks of sex/relationship, fluff 

A/N: Written for @spnfluffbingo. Enjoy. 

_____ 

Two years after Dean left.

So far, your gap year wasn't turning out the way you'd hoped. You weren't anywhere closer to figuring out what to do with your life and you didn't have the means for backpacking through Europe. Flights and hostels cost money and though you saved up, it would go fast and you'd already figured out that solo travel wasn't for you. 

So you bought yourself a car and it was a used piece of junk, but it was yours.

You weren't technically sure if you could categorize it as a car, though. It was more of a rusted piece of tin that would stall like a toddler having a tantrum, for no reason! It was only ever meant to get you from point A to point B, not go on cross-country road trips to see a boy who was never your boyfriend.

Yet here you were, on the side of the road on a particularly balmy day in January, waiting for a tow-truck. You'd almost made it all the way to Sioux Falls and you were so excited to surprise Dean with a blast from his past for his birthday. Then the engine overheated with a jarring clunk sound and you were forced to pull over as it stalled out again. Smoke billowing from under the hood. Stupid car. Stupid road trip. You should've flown but you wanted the time to think. Now you had too much time.

You were wrapped in your long winter coat and sat on the hood of your car. It had long since cooled and the smoke cleared but the dark paint attracted the sun and it was warm as you waited for the tow-truck. You had called the garage that you knew Dean worked at, but you got his uncle on the phone and were expecting him to show up. Instead when the truck finally arrived it wasn't an old man driving it.

"Y/N," Dean said with a look of shock as he stepped down from the truck on bowed legs.

Damn it, surprise ruined. You forced a nervous smile.

"Hey, Dean. How's it hanging?" You said, sliding down from the hood of your car to meet him halfway to his truck parked in front of you. You stood a foot away from each other and shifted your weight from one leg to the other. Not quite the embrace you were hoping for after so long. "Damn it, I should've said something cooler... Surprise!"

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

That wasn't much of a warm welcome either. 

Why was this so awkward?

"Uh- um, you know, sightseeing." You pointed to the snow covered field to the right of the quiet highway, squinting at the trees in the distance.

"Yeah because Sioux Falls is the number one tourist destination. In the middle of winter." He said, glancing in the direction you had pointed with nothing substantial to look at. 

You'd argue the field still had its charm. Snowflakes sparkling in the sunlight. 

Dean looked back at you and cocked his head like he knew you were hiding something. His eyes burrowing into you, set on digging out the truth without the use of words. Somehow it worked and you folded your cards.

"All right, you caught me." You rolled your eyes dramatically, "You sounded kind of sad on the phone when you said you'd be spending your birthday alone and I... didn't want you to."

You left a little late but drove nonstop for as long as you could and made it there with half a day to spare. Tomorrow was Dean's twenty-third birthday!

"Sammy's only gonna be gone one night, I'll still have the morning with him before he leaves for his field trip." He said, still not believing you.

It was partially true, it was the reason you used to convince yourself to come. But the reason you risked the drive in such an unreliable car was different. And he knew it.

"He's in University, they don't call them field trips anymore." You teased but he remained stoic.

You talked on the phone and texted all the time. You should be able to read him better but video calls were glitchy at best lately with the weather and it takes time to be able to read someone's body language again after years apart.

"Why are you here, Y/N?"

"Can't a girl show up for no reason but to celebrate your birthday? I thought you wanted me to visit." You remembered the postcard he'd sent asking you to on your gap year.

"I wanted you to call first. I would've paid for a flight." He said, shoving his ungloved hands into his pockets, likely to keep his fingers warm.

It was winter after all, there was a nip in the air. He didn't wear a toque but the tips of his ears were still protected by his hair which he had let get longer since you last saw him. 

You sighed regretting the road trip and feeling stupid for thinking he thought about you as much as you still thought about him. Maybe he wanted you to call first so he could talk you out of making the trip. But then maybe you were over thinking this and letting your insecurities get the best of you. That has been happening a lot lately.

You shrugged and played with your mittens, "I needed to clear my head and driving halfway across the country sounded like a good idea to do that."

He sighed a visible manifestation of his breath, "What's going on? You sounded fine last time we spoke."

"Nothing, I am fine." You chewed on the inside of your cheek and blinked away watery eyes, "I just have no passion for- like, anything."

"I don't know what you're talking about, you are extremely passionate in everything you do." Dean said, somehow knowing this had to do with you struggling to figure out your whole future at eighteen. Sure, some kids had known what they wanted to do since grade school but for you, it felt like it was next to impossible, "You'll figure it out."

"Okay, okay, enough." You said, raising your mitten-clad hands.

You didn't want to think about it anymore. You were finally in a place to explore your feelings with Dean and although that's not why you drove out there, you'd be lying if you said it wasn't in the back of your mind.

"Where are you staying?" He asked, changing the subject.

"About that...? I fit on a couch pretty good."

Dean smiled, he knew exactly what you were getting at and he had the space since he and Sam had moved into their own apartment. "Good thing I got a couch then."

His attention shifted to your car parked on the side of the highway. His eyes scanned over the dents, scraped paint, rust and bald tires; the side mirror barely held on with duct tape and the bent antenna. The radio was staticky at best. His jaw tightened.

"Is this your car?"

"Yeah," you answered tentatively like it was an obvious answer and you knew you were in for a scolding.

"This is your car? This is the car that you decided to drive practically cross-country in?"

Here it was, "Um, yeah."

Dean walked past you to get a closer look at the car. "Y/N, this car couldn't limp to the next exit if it wanted to."

He kicked the tire and frowned back at you. No doubt seeing the extent of the worn tread. And he knew you knew better than to drive it that far. After he started his job at the Singer's Garage with his uncle he'd made sure to give you a lesson about car safety in case you took out your parents' car, let alone get your own. His attempt at teaching you to change a tire via glitchy video chat was by far the most epic of fails.

"That's kind of the problem, it doesn't want to." You quipped, giving him a cute smile to ease the tension but it didn't work.

"Who sold you this piece of junk, anyways?" He asked, looking away from you as if your smile was blinding him. 

He kicked the tire again.

"I don't know... Chuck, I think." You said, trying to remember the name of the salesman who sold you the car back home.

"Chuck?" He repeated and laughed silently without humour.

"Yes, Chuck. Why do you keep repeating everything I'm saying?"

"Chuck as in Chuck Shirley's Used Car Lot outside town? Y/N, he's a cheat. He sells nothing but lemons. You should've called me, I would've told you where to go." He sighed in frustration and bit his lip, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets.

"I wanted to surprise you, that was the whole point and I didn't want you to tell me not to come." You said and his green eyes immediately found yours. Your chin quivered either from the cold or what you were about to say next. You weren't sure which. "You don't really seem happy to see me."

"You think I'm not happy to see you?" He asked and his stare softened.

You bit the inside of your cheek, "Well, you are doing that weird repeating-everything-I'm-saying-as-a-question thing again."

"What if you broke down?"

"Uh, I did break down." You pointed to the hunk of tin on four wheels just sitting there.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean, what if you had broken down somewhere I couldn't get to you. Y/N, you could've gotten yourself stranded in the middle of nowhere. Or worse."

"I'm pretty sure two hours outside of Sioux Falls is the middle of nowhere."

"You know what I mean. There are strange people out there."

"I know, I'm looking at one." You teased and pushed his shoulder playfully but he didn't react, "Why are you so worried? Dean, I'm fine, I'm standing right here. You could even do something as crazy as -Oh, I dunno, hug me?" 

He cocked his head at you and pointed, "You don't get to own the monopoly on worrying."

He was right, you were always worrying about him especially when you lived in the same town. And the current role reversal was throwing you for a loop. Just another thing you couldn't control.

You pushed back your hair and sighed, "Fine, but can we fast forward to the Dean that's actually glad to see me? I'm starting to think this was a really bad idea."

"In that car, it was a really bad idea." He agreed and you stared at your shoes, holding yourself. "But I am so fucking glad to see you."

He grabbed your shoulders and bent down so his forehead rested against yours. A single tear got away from you as your anxiety about seeing Dean again and everything in between boiled over and you wiped it away with your mitten.

"Really?" You sniffled but it could've been from the cold.

"Yeah, really." He pulled you in for a hug and you rested your cheek against his warm chest. Your arms wrapped around his waist and your hands clutched his jacket in case he decided to pull away before you were willing to let go. "Of course ‘really’, Y/N."

You hummed, "Hm, I'm starting to think this was a good idea again."

You held onto him until your fingers got stiff from the grip you had on him and pulled away. Dean looked down at you and brushed your hair behind your ear. A cold gust of wind turning the shell of it as red as your nose and cheeks. You had probably sat out in the elements a little too long.

"There's no way you're driving that home, by the way. I'm still mad but I can't believe you're actually here. It's like you haven't changed at all." A smile replaced his frown and he looked you over as if he expected you to look a hell of a lot different or maybe older with the time and distance between you.

"It's been two years, a lot has changed, I'm eighteen now!" Your hands went to your hips as you glared up at him. 

The truth was that it had only been two years and your reflection in the mirror hadn't changed a lick. You hoped it would, that you'd wake up eighteen and an adult and that mirror would reflect that, but it didn't and you weren't about to admit that even you didn't feel your age. You technically haven't felt any older since you got your license. Birthdays after that kind of lacked lustre.

Maybe that was what it was like getting older though. First you stop feeling like your birthday is a big deal, stop feeling any older despite the number, then the milestones get further and farther between and eventually you have to think about how old you are. Maybe that’s how it was for Dean and maybe that’s why he seemed so far away. 

"You're so cute." Dean said and roughed up your hair.

You hated the way it made you feel like a kid counting to ten on your fingers and shoved his hand away. Sure your life was a little unorganized at the moment which probably led to this epiphany about birthdays that you were having but that didn't mean you were a child. He didn't treat you like a child when he met you at sixteen and now you were legally an adult. So what was his problem?

"And you're still strange." You squinted.

"And wonderful, though, right?" He cocked an eyebrow and smirked, remembering the compliment you gave him the first night you met. 'You're strange and kinda wonderful.' 

Dean didn't tinker with your car's engine much before he gave up and hooked it up to the tow truck. You didn't think that had any indication on how good of a mechanic he was and more about the state of the engine itself. Every time he tried the key the lights would come on and the starter would spark but the engine kept quiet. You didn't know much about cars other than the basics he'd talked about since you ran out of other stuff to talk about over the phone. But still practical and theory were two very different fields and you couldn't tell the starter from the alternator, though Dean said neither of those seemed to be the problem.

On the drive back to Singer's Garage Dean let you pick the music and you tuned into a country station that he seemed to hate from the first note. So after a song you switched it over to classic rock which you knew was his favourite. The next couple hours were spent listening to him hum along, out of tune, to songs old enough that your father listened to them when he was a teenager. They weren't bad though and you loved the way Dean seemed happier.

You hoped it was real and not some facade he was putting on for your sake. Somehow, you didn't think it was.

Maybe he didn't need you to save him from his birthday alone after all, but he seemed to want you there. He took side glances at you the whole drive back; that had to mean something.

You walked into the garage after Dean. An older man stood at the desk in the office wiping the grease from his hands on a rag. It didn’t seem to help though since the rag itself was already covered in days old worth of oil and grease. He tossed it to the side of the desk when he saw you walk in with Dean.

"Hey, Uncle Bobby, this is Y/N." Dean smiled and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Ah, the infamous Y/N. Me and the Mrs. have heard a lot about you." Bobby said and you blushed.

Dean talked about you when you weren’t around.

"Bobby," Dean warned, side eyeing you and Bobby held his hands up with a smirk pulling at his lips.

"You didn't tell us she was coming to town, son." He said and you saw how that word ‘son’ affected Dean.

Like he actually had a father worth getting to know, one that cared and worried and you loved that for him. Dean deserved to be surrounded by good people that treated him better than his blood had. 

He had hindered his own wants since childhood almost to the point that he denied himself of anything good until now. The lighter air about him, especially in the presence of his uncle, made you hope that he'd found a balance and that his move to Sioux Falls was for more than just Sam after all. 

You might've been trying to find yourself, so to speak, but maybe you weren't the only one. There was a twinge in your gut that made you feel like you were losing him, to another town, another life you weren’t a part of, and eventually another girl. Even if there wasn't one in the picture now. 

You hadn’t talked about relationships and he never mentioned any interest in anyone but you knew you weren’t together either. Dean was all sorts of awesome and a little broken but you admired everything about him; how he could stay calm through uncertainty, say exactly what he thought at any given moment and give up so much for the people he loved without asking for anything in return. You’d never met anyone else like him and compared every boy that asked you out to him, before you inevitably turned them down and skipped prom altogether.

Dean would’ve given you a blast for skipping so you never told him. Instead Benny and Cas took you sand surfing and out to Donna’s for ice cream afterwards. It was sweet and nostalgic and perfect. You wound up spending most of your time with them after Dean and Sam left. The three of you bonded over your love for the boys and the void they left in your life even though you’d only known them for a fraction of the time and still kept in contact with Dean. But sometimes the phone calls weren’t enough and it was just easier to spend time with someone who understood all of that and Benny really was a teddy bear once you got to know him.

You felt safe with them and the age gap didn’t seem to register when there was no chance of attraction. You were hung up on Dean and they knew that. Besides, Benny and Cas still flirted a lot, but never with you. You thought they’d make a cute couple if they ever realized the feeling was mutual and not just casual.

"He didn't know. It was a surprise." You said with a shy smile.

"And you ran into a bit of trouble, I see." Bobby said, walking over to your car that was parked outside the open garage door.

He took a look under the hood that Dean had propped open after disconnecting it from the tow truck and made a face. The same face Dean had made when he looked.

"Nothing Dean can't fix, I'm sure." You said and Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

“I could fix it but the cost would run more than the worth of that car. You said the engine overheats and stalls out regularly, not to mention that it still doesn’t want to turn over. Sorry, Y/N, but without an overhaul of the engine it’s basically a paper weight.”

“I guess, I’m flying home after all then, eh.” You sighed, staring at your two-ton paperweight.

You helped Dean around the garage for the rest of the day. Mainly working on this ridiculous orange shop truck, changing brakes and fluids. He said it was basically ready to sell and that’s how they made business during the lulls in customers. By finding salvageable vehicles and fixing them up. He also made you rotate the tires, though they looked brand new, and you were positive that was just his way of ensuring you knew how to change one; by the fourth tire you felt like a pro.

It was only a few hours before they closed up early for Dean’s birthday dinner. They were celebrating early with Bobby and Jody since Sam wouldn’t be home for dinner on his actual birthday and Bobby invited you along.

Dean took the luggage from your car and stuffed it into the trunk of his Impala. You noted the dents in the front bumper were still there and the headlight was taped up with clear plastic. Dean said he’d been scouring salvage and junkyards for parts but had yet to find any to fit Baby with. You could tell he regretted the damage he’d done to her; it wasn’t her fault, just like how their upbringing wasn’t his. You could tell he connected with her on some spiritual level that people connected with inanimate objects.

When you got to Bobby and Jody’s, a short haired woman greeted Dean with a hug and you with a smile. Until she learnt that you were Y/N and then she pulled you in for a bear hug like you were family. You wondered exactly what Dean had told them about you. However, whatever it was seemed to make a good impression.

Dinner was great and you fell into easy conversation with Sam about his courses. He’d taken the heaviest workload he could and was struggling with studying, so you said you’d send him your playlist for concentrating. You had used it a lot throughout high school and only added to it over the years. It was a mix of easy listening pieces, movie scores, and instrumental works you knew Dean would probably hate.

Dean was delighted in the way you scarfed down your slice of cherry pie. Jody apparently made it for him every year and it was by far the best you’d ever tasted. No wonder he’d bragged about it for as long as he did.

By the end of the night you were full and exhausted from your time on the road. You had only stopped at one motel along the way, and it was a good day’s ride to Sioux Falls from home. So, as much as you would’ve liked to spend the night partying it up with Dean, you were thankful that he just wanted to get back to his apartment and watch a show on Netflix with you. 

Dean carried your bag up to their apartment and let you get first dibs on the shower. Sam, of course, went to bed as soon as you got back. It was late and he had that field trip the next day that he needed to be refreshed for. Dean didn’t seem to mind though, he was mostly concerned that you weren’t too tired to hangout. You lied and assured him that you weren’t since you were determined to be awake when the clock struck midnight. But you passed out on the couch as soon as he hit play.

You woke up well past midnight to Dean carrying you. You were too tired to protest and kept your eyes shut when he laid you down in his bed and tucked you in. Then he left and you fell asleep again mumbling a ‘Happy Birthday’ that he wouldn’t have heard.

In the morning you realized he had spent the night on the couch and you woke up snuggled into comforters that smelt like him. The only thing you missed was the heat of his body. It felt weird to miss something you never had.

“Hey, birthday boy.” You yawned, meeting Dean in the kitchen and wrapping your arms around him from behind.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He said, patting your arms on his waist.

You heard him sizzling something on the stove. A drop of grease spit from the pan and landed on your arm, “Ow.” You released him and rubbed the spot on your arm, “What’s with you and bacon?” He chuckled and you hopped up on the counter stifling another yawn. “Where’s Sammy?”

“He left.”

“Already?”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon, Y/N.” He said and turned to face you. He looked equally as tired, probably from that damned couch.

“Sorry,” you muttered, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were tired and it’s not like either of us have anywhere else to be today.” He shrugged and smiled, “I wanted to ask yesterday but I didn’t wanna pry. How long can you stay?”

“September,” you said hopefully and he laughed.

You technically hadn’t applied to college yet, but you were planning on taking something in the fall. You just didn’t know what and you were trying not to think about application deadlines.

You helped Dean make an early dinner since you hadn’t eaten yet. You peeled potatoes for his ‘famous bacon mashed potatoes’ and he grilled a steak on the small balcony sized barbecue outside. It took longer than a regular barbecue and the sun was setting by the time you sat down with your food in front of the TV. 

You were starving and ate quickly while Dean ate at his regular pace. His affinity for adding bacon to almost every recipe including mashed potatoes doing little to curb your appetite. It was actually pretty good and you both grabbed seconds. 

"This looks familiar," Dean chuckled, tugging the fabric of your hoodie between his fingers.

Your dinner plates abandoned on the coffee table to be rinsed and washed later. 

"I should think so," you grinned and blushed. "It's yours -It was yours, it's mine now."

You clutched the fabric of your hoodie in your hands. It was the sweater Dean had given you the night you met. You'd forgotten to give it back that night when he dropped you off at home and kept it ever since. It was worn but it was your favourite sweater now. It provided warmth and comfort over the years and there was no way you were giving it back. 

"Looks better on you anyways." Dean laid his arm along the back of the couch behind you.

"That's what I thought." You smiled at him and his other hand brushed your cheek, his fingertips grazing your jaw as he tucked some hair behind your ear.

"Did I tell you how happy I am that you're here?" He asked, his voice just above a whisper.

The show you were watching faded into the background and all you could hear and feel was the heartbeat in your chest thumping wildly. He held your gaze as his palm warmed your already fiery skin. You wanted him to kiss you but he didn't.

"You saved me, Y/N, I never told you that. I was just barely hanging on when I met you. Surviving everyday just for Sammy, but then you showed me the beauty in life and made me wanna fight for myself again. When I looked at you I saw a future, a glimpse of something that kept me going and maybe it was a fantasy, it felt like a dream, but now-"

You turned and kissed him, tucking your legs underneath yourself so you could push up on your knees to meet his lips with a little weight. Dean's hands clutched your waist, fingers pressing into your skin and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

It wasn't the kiss you wanted. He held back and a tear trailed down his cheek. You pulled apart your lips and he sniffled, his hands still gripping you like you would disappear.

“This can’t work.” He whispered and met your eyes, shaking his head. “You’re everything I want but this won’t end well, it can’t right now, Y/N.” 

What? You pushed your brows together, "I would never hurt you, Dean."

"No, but I won't let you hurt yourself either." He pushed you away.

“You’re scared. Of this, of us. That’s it, isn’t it?” You asked, pointing between you. 

He sighed and rubbed a palm down his face, “Y/N, you know that’s not true.”

“It’s not just about me, Dean. There’s another reason you’re holding back.”

“Cut me some slack, Y/N, it’s my birthday.” He said, playing the birthday card pretty fast like he had it in his back pocket. 

But you didn't drop it.

You placed your hand on his heart and raised his to lay over your breast. Each heartbeat thumping wildly enough to feel the vibrations in your palms.

"Do you feel that? Our hearts are wild, Dean. They wither in cages waiting to be broken. Do yourself a favour. Don't cage your wild heart, set it free." You pleaded. He was the only one you ever wanted, a feeling that was mutual as much as he fought it. "I know you love me."

He kissed you then and it was like lightning coursing through your veins. All thought was lost and your bodies mended together as he crawled over you. Your back pressed into the couch and he held his weight over you as his tongue gained entry to the warmth of your mouth. The air in your lungs replaced with the air in his and his hands grabbed at yours, linking your fingers together and pushing the backs of your palms into the cushions next to your head. 

You panted and hummed, breathing heavily through the nips and sucks to your lips and throat. You angled your hips up to his, wrapping your legs around him and pressing your heels into his backside but Dean didn’t close the distance to give you more friction. He just kept kissing you. 

You separated your hands from his and pawed at his henley. Dean sat up, pulling you with him and letting you push his shirt up his chest. You tugged it over his head and away from his arms, tossing it to the floor next to the couch.

He leaned in to kiss you again but you stopped him with a hand to his chest. The lamp next to you was lit and it was the first time you'd seen him bare chested. You felt the raised skin beneath your fingertips as his chest rose and fell with each breath.

The scar you had only seen the tail end of that night on the beach ran from his collarbone down the left side of his chest and into the waistband of his jeans towards his hip. Dean sighed when he saw the tears in your eyes and reached for his shirt.

"No, wait," you grabbed his hand and settled into his lap, wrapping yourself around him in a tight hug. You rubbed your hands over his shoulder blades feeling a myriad of raised skin, forming other unseen scars that covered his back. Your chin quivered, faced with the irrefutable proof of the pain his father inflicted on him and you let the tears drip onto the skin of his shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I knew what he did to you but somehow I still didn't know."

"It's over, Y/N, he's never going to touch me or Sam ever again. Not even when he gets out of prison. I'll kill him myself before that happens." He said as if he was promising himself.

You went to kiss him again but he turned away and pushed you off of his lap. You sat next to him on the couch and he slipped his shirt back on and rubbed the nape of his neck, then sighed as looked at you.

That look of lust in Dean's eyes was gone and now he was stopping whatever this was between you before it got out of hand. Even if it was the last thing either of you wanted.

"Y/N. My heart will always beat wild for you whenever we're together, but it's also like I can't think rationally when we're close like this. My mind and body are clouded by this fleeting feeling and when it's gone neither of us are going to feel any better about this. And that's exactly why this can't happen now. You're still trying to figure things out and I can't stand in the way of that. You're not done growing yet. So for now, my heart stays here," he tapped the left side of his chest twice, "And I'm not caging it, I'm containing it because if I released it, it would devour you."

"Couples grow together, Dean. Haven't you ever heard of growing old together."

"Couples grow together when the time is right." He brushed the sweat-dampened hair from his face.

"How do we know when the time is right?" You asked. 

"Because it'll be easy... natural.” He explained, cupping your cheek with his palm and running the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone. 

"I want it to be easy now." You said, grabbing his wrist as he pulled his hand away. 

"Trust me, me too. But when we get there, it'll be worth the wait because there will be nothing standing in our way. You'll know it's what you want." He said as if he still wasn't sure you wanted him.

"I know that now. I want you now." If there was one thing you were sure about, it was that. Your feelings for him had only cemented since you were sixteen.

"You think you know that now, Y/N. You're still young." He said like he still saw the girl he'd first met and finally pulled his hand away. 

"Just because I haven't figured out what I want to study doesn't mean I'm a baby. I may never know, Dean." You frowned.

You were more than old enough to know what you wanted in your romantic life. You wanted a man to treat you right like you knew Dean would. He'd proved it time and time again in almost every other way.

"I never said you were a baby. I just want you to take this time to focus on yourself. Be selfish for once. Do you really think it'll be easy to start something now when I live halfway across the country and who knows when we'll get to see each other again." He explained making too much sense for your dopamine soaked brain. "I won't lose you to some meaningless fling when that's the complete opposite of what I want." 

"Maybe, I could go to college here." You thought out loud but you liked the sounds of it.

"Or maybe you could figure out what you want rather than make decisions based on me."

"But, Dean-"

"Y/N, how can I ask you to move here for me and shape your life around me when this is only my home for the now."

"What do you mean?" You asked and sank back into the couch, feeling unwanted.

"Sam wants to transfer to Stanford Law after his degree here in USF. That gives me time to get some work experience and him some time to get to know the closest thing we have left to family. That means three and half years from now California will be our home and I don't know what comes after that. I can’t ask you to move with us, take you away from your family, your home, your friends, interrupt your own studies; that’s not fair to you. Maybe one day, when I can take a breath, when we’re both settled... All I want is you happy.” 

He was right. You had a chance at a life of your own, the only problem was that it wouldn’t include Dean. Not in any physical form anyhow and you were torn, between building a future, and the boy who taught you to care. 

"You make me happy." You decided.

"No. I would make you happy for now but it wouldn't last. You deserve more than that, more than I can give you right now. I plan on changing that, I plan on being the guy that can make your dreams come true, but right now, that's just a fantasy." He explained and shook his head like he could see a future that you couldn't. 

One where you were together, but how long would that take? A fantasy. That's exactly what it felt like, a fantasy, meaning it would never come true. He would just keep waiting and wasting time until it was too late.

You knew you didn't want that.

"You're saying 'right now' a lot but tomorrow never comes, Dean."

"Our tomorrow will." He said with conviction in the greens of his eyes. "Just not today, Y/N, sorry."

"All right...” You sighed when you saw Dean’s pout. The way his eyes pleaded for you to understand and you did. Being open to love took more than just turning a certain age and it wasn’t your time yet. “Okay, it’s okay, Dean, I get it.” You smiled, “Happy Birthday." 

Dean wasn’t ready. You could see he was overwhelmed and he was still figuring things out for himself. He was willing to wait for you two years ago, now you could wait for him. 

You stayed the rest of the month, helping out Dean in the garage with small jobs. Bobby didn’t object even though it probably took you twice the amount of time to change oil as it would if they did it themselves and they had to double check everything you did. Short of retightening a few bolts though, you thought you got the hang of it pretty quick.

When January turned to February and things were starting to get too comfortable, you knew you couldn’t continue to hide in Sioux Falls forever. You had to get back home and take that next step. Otherwise, you were in for a life standing still.

“Y/N, can you come here for a minute?” Dean called from the front door of his apartment.

“Hey,” you walked out from the kitchen, having just put a lasagna in the oven.

Bobby and Jody were coming over for dinner and Sam would be home from class soon. 

“Put your boots and coat on, I’ve got something to show you.” He bit back a beaming smile and raised his brows. 

“What’s this all about?” You asked, dressing in your winter gear.

“You’ll see,” he smirked and pulled your toque down over your eyes like a blindfold.

“Ugh, Dean, I don’t like this.” You said, stretching out your arms to feel around. 

“Two minutes, trust me.” He said, directing you out of the apartment and into the elevator.

You squirmed with his hands on your shoulders as he directed you out into the parking lot, snow crushing under your boots from the storm the night before. You trusted him but you were starting to lose your equilibrium. 

“All right, open your eyes.” Dean said, pulling off your toque to reveal the monstrosity of a truck in front of you; with orange paint the shade of a pumpkin. It was the shop truck you had helped him with your first day here. “Before you say anything, you’ll need wheels to get you home and then to college and anywhere else life takes you. I know you think the paint job is ugly but this truck is safe and reliable and best of all, I won’t worry about you driving it. Well... I’ll worry less.”

You shook your head, “The colour is perfect,” and it was, “And I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

“You already have, Y/N. You worked at the garage for no pay.” He said as if a week's pay would've been enough to afford the truck. 

“That was fun and you and I both know that I held you guys up all week.” You said and cocked your head with a shy smile. 

“No, you didn’t. We liked having you there, you boosted our morale, and Bobby and I wanted to do something to show our appreciation.” He said, holding out the keys for you and jingling them. "Please, just let me do this for you." 

You nodded, “I love it.” You launched yourself at him, hugging him tightly around the waist. “Thank you.” You kissed his cheek again and again. 

“Now, next time you visit I won’t have to worry about getting a call from you broken down on the side of the road.” He laughed, hugging you back and resting his chin on the top of your head.

“You won’t because it’s your turn to visit me next time.” 

_________________________

Part 7

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @vicmc624 @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch