#but in this case ethan really thought it was a good idea to teach them young

[fishblade-koi]

Sorry I just miss the sillies...

[ra1ndrop5-on-ro5e5]

2 New Years Resolutions // Fairn

Finn didn't really know what to do with himself sometimes with how quiet the Greek court could get. Might as well go for a classic New Years resolutions and hit the gym. He couldn't do it as Rose though. He had to run the risk to go to the gym in basket ball shorts and a muscle top to be comfortable. He could do this, he could even cover himself if worse came to worse. He think about who was even left he really had to keep convinced.

Rosanna probably would never challenge Rose even if she read Jude's file front to back. Suzy was of not of interest, and the rest of alpha were old friends. Schlatt and Max were like two sides of the same coin, both knowing but both unbelievable if they tried to tell anyone else. Wilbur was blissfully indifferent, all other thetas were not of interest, most of them old dog. Same with almost all of Gamma, even the ones who knew like Matt and Ryan were not viable men of interests.

"Finn!" the shout snapped his brain out of it less like a trace and more like a rubber band, losing his focus on not just his thought spiral but the excirsize he had been doing. "Rest is over princess, let's go!" Arin taunts him, hitting him on the side of his arm with the target pads on his hands before holding them back up in front of him. "Jab!"

This is one of the reasons Finn had agreed to do this with Arin regularly. It demands his attention. Working out was a good way to do that, but especially with someone on his case if he lost focus. Arin was understanding about everything. Everything. He had been an ear to all the woes and in return, Finn let Arin teach him boxing. It worked great the first few times, but today whenever a rest happened Finn's brain took it as an opportunity to take stock of his situation.

Ethan. Ethan was the only one left who was truly being deceived, and prehaps the least deserving of it. Schlatt and Wilbur both know where they stood with him and still stuck around. Maybe Ethan would too... but he didn't want that with Ethan....

"Do you need to call it for today?" Arin asks before bitting the strap around his head and shaking the pad off his hand before getting the other normally. "You're head really isn't in it, I don't want you to get hurt."

"No! No please I just need- need like one thing to get me in the zone and I'll be good." He huffs and holds up his fists, shadow boxing at Arin. "Com'on then! Be a good coach!" Finn is playful with him, looking the other in the chest like they were eye to eye as he boxed since Arin had some height on him. Arin crosses his arms and looks down at Finn with pursed lips, thinking. "Wot?"

"Theres one thing... that always gets my attention when I'm out of during training... but it usually happen during sparing." He hums the a final realization hits him then shakes his head. "Nah, I cant do that to you."

"No cone on! What is it? At least tell me."

"If I tell you I don't think it work the same."

"Then just do it."

"If you lose focus again." He agreed with the idea that some looming threat would keep Finn in focus. Finn may have considered at some point that it was a threat, but he was so curious he forgot to be scared. Maybe that was why when Finn lost his place in combination because he was thinking about his last date with Ethan, Arin smacked him across the face.

"Fuck!" The sound followed by Finn's yelp ricochet through the gym and a silece fills the air. The sting slowly set in and Finn's heart raced. As he looked back to Arin, his breathing is faster, wrapped hand over the spot the other man struck. "Holy shit..." He huffed out.

"I told you! Geez and biscuits fuck! I didn't want to punch you like you'd get in sparing, I thought that wouldn't be as bad!"

"I think a punch would have been much worse." Finn says though a few more pants, feeling the initial fear subside and settling back into his body. He had imagined a guy here would hit him one day, but it was the worst case scenario whenever he played it out. Now here Arin was, just after smacking him, groveling, trying to look small, and Finn couldn't bother to even but annoyed. "That was good."

"What?!"

"No yeah, you should definitely do that when I slip up. It will-" his throat is rather dry feeling suddenly and he tries to swallow to alleviate it "It will keep me in the moment and my head clear and- and- and I'm so hard riggt now." He blurts out, hands quickly going over his mouth and looking up in horror.

"Uh... scuse me?" Arin blinked at him a fee times and his eyes scan the room quickly.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Finn turns and tries to find his things to running out of there but his head was so scrambled he couldn’t even see it when he looked around the room. "I'll leave I just- if I had my bag I-"

"Get it together, princess!" Arin barks at him, successfully pulling his attention back. Arin gives a much lighter and playful smack to the same cheek. Finn turns his head with it and let's out a whimper. "I didn't know you were cool like that." He chuckles, even as Finn looks at him with stary eyes. "You okay? Too far?"

"You wanna make out in the locker room?"

"The locker room?"

"You want to do it here?" Finn asks biting his lip and looking the other man over. Arin face gets rosey and he has to take a steadying breath.

"Hit the showers! Great job out there today!" he rushes out, throwing a giggling Finn over his shoulder and striking him on the ass as he rushed hulled him to on of the changing rooms.

[sparkleofpizza]

Silly - Tim Drake x reader

Warning: swearing

Requested: no

Summary: Y/n decides to take matter into her own hands to get Tim to realize he is overworking himself way too much.

Word count: 1.186

He didn't pay attention when you told him, you knew that, but you thought it would good to explore it. How it would make him feel and how he would react once he found out. Would he do anything about it at all? This was going to be an experience so he would learn not to overwork himself to the point the agreed to the stuff you asked him without really knowing what he was getting himself into.

All week you told your boyfriend Tim Drake that you would be part of the kissing both for the fund raising your college was doing. He never seemed bothered by it, but that was because he was too tired to even comprehend you well enough. He was working on a big case and also doing lots of stuff for the WE, so many stuff he was hardly sleeping. 

"I don't think he will like it once he finds out." Dick said, frowning at you 

"I know." you smiled at him "But this is a lesson so your brother will learn not to overwork himself to the point of not really knowing what's happening around him."

Dick nodded, getting your point. It was going to be a bit funny to see his little brother jealous, he just hoped you two would get into a fight. He and the rest of the family really liked having you around, you were good to Tim. 

So when the day of the fund raising finally arrived, Tim got ready and texted you to tell you he was already on his way. You waited, patiently, behind your booth to see what would his reaction be. 

You saw Jason first, he was taller than the rest of the family and with the white streak in his hair, it was kind of hard to miss out on him. You smiled, waving them over to where you were. Your booth partner, Ethan Cobblepot, turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised and purely bored.

"Did you invite your boyfriend's family to a kissing both? Really?"

You chuckled "They're the one's that volunteered to come. And please, don't start complaining, you're the one who thought it would be cool to help me and f/n."

"Well, she dragged you into this and you dragged me into this." He shot his eyebrows up, smirking your way

"Ew, get ahold of yourself, Cobblepot. We have customers. Hello!" You smiled to the girl staring in line 

And there was Tim, pushing himself thought people in line, not really caring what they were telling him. He stood in front of you, jaw clenched and his expression hard. He stole a glance to the male by your side and then to the boys behind him, his blood was boiling. 

"Hi, Timmy." You smiled innocently at him "Do you want one or two pecks? It's a dollar each."

"What the fuck is this?" He asked in a low, icy, voice

Honestly, you thought it was hot, but that wasn't the point of why you were doing this. You were teaching him a lesson.

"It's a kissing booth, the one I've been telling you all week about? You said it was a great idea for a good cause."

He just stared at you. 

You quietly told Ethan you'd be back and then slipped out of your place, allowing your boyfriend to grab your hand and drag you God knows where. 

Standing in the far corner of the fair, you stared at him, waiting for him to star talking. And it didn't take very long.

"A kissing booth? Really? You were just going to be there kissing random people?"

You shook your head "I am only doing cheek kisses." You tapped your cheek with your index finger "I don't get mad at me, I told you about this."

"It doesn't matter what kind of kisses you're doing! I'm... Don't I mean anything to you that you have to kiss other people?"

It actually broke your heart to see him like that, you knew he was growing insecure with the whole kissing booth thing. But you need to make him see your side. 

"Babe, I don't want to kiss anyone else but you. I am only doing this to prove you a point."

"Prove me a point? I don't see how..." he stopped talking, furrowing his brows 

You knew he was thinking, he was a smart guy, the smartest you knew so you knew it would take long for him to find out. You took his silence as an opportunity the hold one of his hands, reassuringly rubbing the palm of his hand with your thumb. 

"I didn't pay attention when you told me and I agreed with this idea." Tim said quietly, almost ashamed of himself 

"Yes, I knew it wouldn't be something you'd agree on so I brought it up again..."

"And I agreed once more saying it was a good idea because I was..."

"Too tired to even realize what you were agreeing with." You finished it up for him "Babe, I only did this so you would realize how you overwork yourself and don't take care of yourself. Look what you agreed with, what if it was something super serious you were agreeing to? Not that me kissing other people isn't, but you know what I mean. You need to sleep, stop drinking so much coffee and stop overworking yourself."

He nodded. "I know, pretty bird. I'm sorry, I'm..."

"If you say you're a shitty boyfriend I will beat you."

He chuckled, holding you to his chest. You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat. Just enjoining the moment, the two of you. You caressed his back, hoping it would calm his nerves down - you knew he was still nervous about all of this, you didn't want him to be.

"You can stay with me over there, that would make me feel more conformable, knowing you're there." You said, looking up at him "Only cheek kisses, I promise."

"Ok, I can do that. And also keep an eye on that Cobblepot dude." He smiled at you thought his distress 

Tim trusted you more than anything, and he totally understood why you did what you did. But he would never ever let you alone with the Penguin's son. He did not trust him and he never would. He couldn't let any danger come near you, specially since Ethan loved to fucking flirt with you.

You kissed his cheek, dragging him all the way back to the booth, going back to your place.

"Did you two finished your business so you can start those with me?" Ethan questioned, eyeing you with a smirk

"Kiss someone in the line and shut up." you rolled your eyes

Tim glared at him, standing close to you. He also glared at the boy in front of you. This was going to be a very long and tiring afternoon, one he was just waiting for it to be over so he could release his jealousy the best way he could. Making out with you, a lot, on his bed.

[godlydolans]

maybe you could concept the reader finding out about Grays feelings and what comes with that? I think your writing is stellar and don’t want you to feel like you have to- but this could be a different continuation than the Anya confrontation if you��re not feeling inspired for that?

Part 1

It was a beautiful night. Not one cloud could be seen in the sky, it was cristal clear. No moon, but filled with stars. Grayson didn’t remember when he had seen the stars look as clear and shining like diamonds of all colours and sizes, as they did tonight. It was truly magnificent.

She was sitting with her feet in the pool, leaning back on her hands as she watched the sky, smiling softly to herself.

And he watched her. He watched how her eyes, as dark as night, twinkled as she watched the stars above. He noticed how her long hair was flowing gently in the breeze, jet black and wavy, parted slightly to the right but not exactly. It always looked like a centre part, but it was just the tiniest bit to the right. You almost wouldn’t notice it if you weren’t paying attention.

Grayson did. He didn’t even know when exactly he paid so much attention to notice it. It feels like he always knew.

“You know what that is?” She suddenly spoke, her eyes still trained on the sky. Grayson just then realised that, sometime while he was busy looking at her, he had stopped backstroking. Standing in the pool, he looked at the star she was pointing at and frowned.

“Star?” He guessed, knowing his answer was pretty dumb and got his reward when she chuckled, shaking her head as she gazed down at him.

“Yeah, a star.” She was smiling with her teeth now and Grayson felt the thumping of his heart get louder. God, when she trained those midnight eyes on him, he lost the ability to think. “Vega.”

Sporting the golden grin that was notorious for leaving women and some men spellbound, Grayson swam to her. She leaned forward. Placing her elbows on her knees, she rested her chin on her intertwined hands. Grayson folded his own arms on the warm floor beside her.

“Vega?”

“Yes! It’s one of the stars that form the Summer Triangle, see?” Grayson turned and looked up, easily finding the triangle the three stars formed as she traced them with her pointer finger. “Vega is the brightest,” her finger moved down, down, down to the second star of the triangle, “Altair, the second brightest, and the last one, Deneb.”

She gave a sad little smile at the last name and Grayson looked back at the stars to understand why. Where Vega was the brightest, having a blue-ish glimmer to it, Altair was not too bad either with its gleaming white sheen. Deneb, though, not only was it dull in comparison to the other two, it also was smaller and overall, appeared lacklustre in front of Altair and Vega.

“Altair and Vega, those would be really cool baby names, huh?”

She laughed, causing him to smile. “I was just waiting for you to say that!”

Grayson grinned, “I’m too predictable for my own good.”

“I just know you, so I know babies are never far from your thoughts.” She fleshed him an amused grin, “but yeah, they are really cool names. There’s a story about Altair and Vega.”

“What is it.” Grayson pushed himself out of the pool and situated himself beside her, so close, their thighs were touching as his feet dangled in the water like hers did.

“Vega was a celestial princess, goddess of the sky. Because she was immortal, she feared she would whole life alone.” She stopped and gave Grayson a knowing smile. Like you, the words didn’t escape her lips, but he knew she was thinking them. Grayson blushed, looking away with a shy smile on his own lips. He usually didn’t get to spend anytime alone with her, and he didn’t know how to act around her when she smiled at him like that, spoke to his in that soft, intimate voice, sitting right next to him with nothing more than an oversized tee over her bikini. “Altair was a human. He had a great talent for playing the flute. Sure enough, one evening, he was practising an old love melody on his flute and Vega was listening from the sky. The melody was so beautiful that Vega couldn’t stop herself from coming down to Earth and know who was playing it. That is how she met Altair. From that day onwards, he used to play the flute every night and she used to come down for him every night. They would sit together, talk and he would teach her how to play the instrument. Slowly but surely, they fell in love.”

Grayson watched as she started to play with the water under her fingertips. She would gently sway her fingers from left to right, so softly, like the water was too fragile to take her touch. Then she would create tiny ripples in the water with the pads of her fingers before gliding her fingers on the surface of it. Grayson was getting breathless watching the simplest things she did. Her fingers, long and slender, looked so beautiful gleaming under the water, he wanted to take them and kiss every inch.

Jesus, he was so in love, it hurt.

“Vega’s father got wind of the affair and he was furious. He didn’t like the fact that his divine daughter was mingling with a mere mortal. He sent the Lady of the sky, his wife to bring Vega back. She went down to Earth and dragged a screaming and crying Vega back to the sky, away from Altair. Altair couldn’t handle this and he tried to search for a way through which he could see Vega. He had an old bull that used to belong to his late father. The bull had magical abilities and it told Altair to climb on its back and that it would take him to the sky. The lady of the sky noticed Altair coming and before he could reach Vega, she used her magic and created a river of stars in his path to separate them. We call that river of stars the Milky Way Galaxy.”

“Whoa!” Grayson, usually one of the loudest people in the room, murmured slowly, not wanting to disturb the serenity of the magical moment, “I wasn’t expecting that twist. What a fucking bitch? She destroyed her own daughter’s happiness.”

“Well, she didn’t know how serious Vega was about Altair. She just thought it was a fleeting attraction that would go away. But she understood that clearly wasn’t the case when months passed and Vega still didn’t get over Altair. Still heartbroken over being separated from the only man she could and would ever love. Finally, her father took pity on the two lovers and created a wide bridge of magpies across the river, hoping for them to fulfil their love.

“So each year, on the seventh night of the seventh moon, a bridge of magpies forms across the river and Altair dares to travel to his beloved. They wait for that one day out of the whole year where they can be together again, just to be torn apart again for another long and lonely year.”

The story ended and there was a beat of silence between the two. She gathered her hair and put it over one shoulder, looking at the ends like she was looking for damage. She did this often, when she was deep in thought. Grayson wondered how those glossy strands would feel between his fingers, how they would look against his pillow. Black silk shining against the stark white of his pillowcase. The image brought blood rushing to his face, and another area below his waist that he didn’t even want to think about at the moment.

If he got arroused, he’d just jump back into the pool, he decided.

“Why are the most beautiful love stories usually the tragic ones?” Grayson asked the question with no hope of getting an answer. It was a genuine thought, but he also voiced it to divert his mind from images of her in his bed. How could he expect her to give him an answer to that when the man she loved was married to someone else? To her own sister, no less. She didn’t know love, she only knew tragedy.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, giving him a half hearted chuckle that he easily saw past.

“Maybe true love is one that never ends in happiness.” Grayson mused, feeling his heart sink into the pit of his stomach at his own idea.

“Um, that’s a very negative way of looking at it.”

“Reality is usually always harsh.”

This brought a genuine laugh out of her, a head thrown back and eyes closed kind of laugh. Man, it was always a treat to see her laugh, especially when he was the reason behind it.

“Gray, you always sound like a spurned lover! Believe me, you won’t be alone forever.” Hadn’t he heard that a thousand times before? Coming from her mouth, the words did the opposite of making him feel better. The idea of being with anyone other than her brought a sour taste in his mouth. He hated it. She apparently took his less than happy expression for his disbelief at her words. “You don’t believe me now, but you’ll see that I’m right, one day. I mean, look at you! You’re every girl’s dream guy! You’re young, talented, hardworking, wealthy, gorgeous beyond words and one of the purest human beings I know.” Grayson’s heart skipped a few beats as he watched her say such sweet things about him, things that he always wanted her to say to him. But not in the context that she did.

You’re every girl’s dream guy.

Yeah, every girl but one. One that I truly want. One that is my dream girl.

“Look at me,” She lifted his chin to bring his eyes back to her hauntingly beautiful ones and his heart squeezed in his chest. Why couldn’t she have fallen for him instead of his brother? Why couldn’t it be him? Grayson loved his brother more than life itself, but he was cursing him in his mind for being the only man she could and would ever love. “You should have the universe, the sky and every star in it. And you will. One day, you will. You’ll see.”

He saw. He saw her and she was all he saw.

Only she didn’t see that she was the whole universe, the sky and all the stars for him.

Because she was too busy looking at the Summer Triangle and seeing Ethan in Altair and her sister, Anya in Vega. She was too busy seeing herself in Deneb. The star that nobody noticed in front of the other two’s beauty and shine.

The thing is, she had always thought she was the Vega to Ethan’s Altair, and her sister was just in the middle. Now, as she sat there gazing up at the stars while they were probably somewhere in Greece for their honeymoon, it was quite clear that for them, there was no triangle. They only ever saw each other. It was she would had created this triangle in her own mind.

Deneb can never compare to Vega.

It didn’t matter that she’d seen Ethan first, because her sister had seen him next.

[1-1snailxd-art]

Libraries are for Meetings

Master List —– Chapter 10

Chapter 11 - The library meeting

Warnings: negative thoughts, swearing, implied abuse, murder mentioned

Summary: A soft mountain of pillows and blankets, plenty of food, boxes of tissues, a few close friends, and plenty of unshed tears. Sounds like a recipe for a lovely evening in the library. 

Word count: 2013

Note: reading on mobile can remove the paragraphing sometimes. Use desktop site or visit my Ao3 page if it bothers you as much as it bothers me.

____________________

 “Are you sure you want to sell all this, kid?” Pete questioned, eyeing the pile of electrical equipment, parts, a handheld gaming system and a chunky, old laptop. “Won’t you need most of this for work?”

“I need the money more.” The younger man snapped and pointed aggressively at each object, hood low and concealing his face. “The parts and tools are versatile, and any techie would be happy to use them. The laptop may be old, but it runs fine and is already wiped. Jesus, I even got the game working even though it only accepts one cartridge. There will be some nostalgic nerd willing to play only Pokémon blue for the rest of that systems little life. This is good stuff, Pete. What can you get me?”

Scratching his chin in thought, Pete tapped at his keyboard absently. In the few months Virgil had been around, he had never seen the man so desperate for money. The parts boxed up before him would certainly be useful for his other workers but would put Virgil out of commission.

“Kid, if you need the money, just pawn this stuff and come back la-“

“Take the hint, Pete, I’m not coming back.”

Glancing down at Virgil’s shaking hands, the older man sighed and opened the till to retrieve a collection of notes.

“If that’s the case, and this is farewell, take this.” He placed $500 in cash on the counter and slid it towards Virgil. “You do good work, kid. It’s a shame to see you go.”

“And it’s a shame you’re such a fucken cheapskate.”

It was meant to be an insult, but Pete saw a tear drip from his chin as he turned and stormed out with the money. It was nothing but an act to spare the kid from the pain of leaving. Grabbing the bag of items, Pete walked them out the back and placed them safely on a pawning shelf; writing a tag with Virgil’s name and only removing the gaming device to add to inventory. Despite what they had said, Pete wasn’t about to let Virgil throw everything away. He had been rough on him to teach him about the harshness of the industry, but he wasn’t completely heartless. He only hoped Virgil would find the strength to come back.

  ********************

  The once full plates of food were emptier as the group leaned back on beanbags in the library reading area. Patton nestled against Roman’s chest, eyes red from crying after he had spoken about his guilt and thoughts of being a bad omen. The group had listened as Patton finished with the points Roman and Katie had given him the days prior, before Roman pulled him close to his chest.

Logan remained silent. He didn’t know how to respond to Patton’s admissions, all of which were predominantly his fault.

“You are nothing but a good omen to me.” Roman whispered, planting a kiss on his head and continuing to soothingly stroke his shoulder.

“A-agreed.” Logan added, clearing his throat as his voice broke slightly. “I’m sorry if my actions ever made you feel less than what you are worth, Patton. You know how much you mean to me, right?”

Patton shifted on Roman’s chest and extended his hand out for Logan to take.

“I know, Lo. I’ll try not to let myself forget again.”

Giving their hands a final squeeze, the pair let their hands drop so Patton could return to his comforting position against Roman’s chest.

 “Perhaps, I should speak next,” Roman offered and looked to the others for their nod of approval.

“Okay, little brother. What do you need to get off your chest?”

“Not Patton, for one.” He joked, giving his partner a squeeze before his tone became surprisingly sombre. “Well… I think it is time I apologised to you…Katie.”

The eldest looked confused as Roman met her eye with a small smile, before he lowered his gaze to focus back on the man on his chest.

“What do you have to apologise for?”

“You said your biggest regret was being…overbearing and overprotective. That your biggest accomplishment over the last few months was not messaging us every few hours religiously, but… I’m the reason you started that in the first place.”

“Roman-”

“Katie.” Logan warned, fixing her with a stern look. “Remember the rules. We speak openly and without interruption.”

After mumbling an apology, Katie gestured for Roman to continue.

“I was meant to tell you about Sasha’s party, but because I didn’t end up going with Jason, I never told you. And, to make matters worse… after Jason’s death, I…” taking a shaky breath, Roman found Patton’s hand to grip for support. “I acted rashly and caused you more stress. I put myself in unnecessary danger on multiple occasions and if it wasn’t for Patton, I’d probably still be party hopping and getting in car wrecks. It was selfish of me and I’m sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass and treat you like a human.  You’ve been there for me and I should have been there for you…I hope I can do better.”

The figurative weight slid off Roman’s chest as he looked up and saw his older sister smiling, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

“Thank you, Roman.” Swiping the tear away, Katie chuckled quietly to herself. “It really means a lot that you see me as a human.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not always a dragon witch.”

 Logan felt his mind wandering; beginning to obsess over the message Virgil had sent. There was such an undertone of anger and he started going through what he’d done wrong.  Part of him hoped it was referring to his offers of food and monetary support, which he could easily back away from. Thinking more logically, he figured it was probably his sudden obsession with over sharing and using an acquaintance as a sounding board instead of going to actual therapy. Regardless, he didn’t know for certain and it was eating him up inside.

 “Logan?”

Ethan’s voice cut through Logan’s thoughts like a hot knife through butter and he suddenly registered the silence in the room. Everyone else had shared now; their grief and guilt finally aired fully and unapologetically. He was the only one still left to share and it dawned on him just how afraid he was to do as he had planned earlier that afternoon.

 “Are you ready to share?” Patton gave his hand a comforting squeeze before allowing Logan to pull away and begin shuffling through his bag.

“I don’t know if I’m ready but,” he pulled his laptop out and began loading the files Virgil had saved, “it would be selfish of me to avoid this any longer.”

The group had a silent exchanged of concerned glances and then moved closer so they would be able to see the screen after Logan set it down. Only Logan spoke as the images from earlier began scrolling across the laptops screen.

“We all remember that night before the fire vividly, I’m sure. Roman was roaming the streets in ignorant bliss; E was enjoying the alcohol Oskar had provided; Katie finally had her feet up; and I was driving a sniffly Patton home. We all know our sides, but I’ve kept one side a secret this whole time, and for that…I am sorry.”

 Hitting play on Jason’s video, Logan moved aside to ensure everyone had a clear view of the screen. Colour drained from Katie and Roman’s faces as Jason’s ghostly voice filled their ears and they saw what he had been like in his final moments of life. As the screen froze on Jason’s face the library was left in silence; tears leaving their traces on cheeks as they soaked into the fabric of clothes and blankets.

 Katie’s cracked voice finally broke the silence; “why?”

When Logan didn’t respond, Katie tore her eyes away from the screen and looked at him with harsh sadness.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Moving closer, she placed her hands on Logan’s damp cheeks and forced his eyes to meet her own. “What purpose did hiding this serve?”

“Nothing.” Logan’s eyes were void orbs, eyes red and strangely dried. “It only supported my belief that I wasn’t good enough for him and I didn’t want to be convinced otherwise.”

“You stupid man.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she pulled Logan into a crushing embrace. “Stupid, bloody, idiot. You were more than enough for him, you fucking fool.”

 Though he returned the hug, Logan’s eyes remained glassed until more limbs began joining the embrace. Each body of warmth a physical reminder that though he had lost the face on his computer screen, he still had the family surrounding him. Sobs soon shook his whole frame; eyes squeezing shut as raw emotion was set free and all secrets were finally laid out. No more words were needed now. They had each aired their truths and now clung to each other, raw from it all.

 Katie felt Logan’s weight growing as his sobs slowed, and she smiled to herself at the idea of Jason watching over them now. Roman moved back when Patton shifted and wiped his face before gesturing toward the soft spaces they had each been sitting before. Acting on silent instruction, Roman helped change their circle of  beanbags and pillows into one soft pile while the other two continued holding Logan’s quivering form.

“He’s asleep.” Ethan whispered in shock as the siblings helped guide Logan to a more comfortable position.

“I doubt he has really slept in a while, Ethan.”

Patton accepted the exhausted man from Roman and laid back on the makeshift bed, removing the other man’s glasses before he instinctively snuggled closer. “That’s it, Logie. Let us take care of you, now.”

“Good job, Pat’s.” Removing Patton’s own glasses, Roman kissed his forehead before settling down behind him.

Ethan watched the scene before him and felt a pang of jealousy at the closeness of the group before Katie’s hand was guiding him over to Logan’s other side. Laying the blankets over everyone, Katie finally took her place on the end; mentally saving the image of the group before relaxing back on the soft cushions. Sleep wouldn’t come easy as a sleepy sob escaped one of the others, but eventually the library was silent, and Katie drifted off in relative peace.

*********************

Leaning his aching body against the cold steel of the dumpster was a relief for a moment, but the cold was soon to leave Virgil shivering. Dried blood gripped his clothes, but he couldn’t bring himself to sneak into the library until a later hour; certain the meeting would still be going. Tears had blended with the blood on his face, making his skin stiff; the feeling uncomfortable as he grimaced and repositioned.

Virgil cursed his luck when the world spun again; head pounding harder than it had when Ben had shoved him into the wall. The $500 from earlier had done nothing to help his situation; only cemented the fact that he couldn’t stay any longer. After a visit to the bank he’d sent $150 to his aunt with an apology for being a burden; $250 had been sent to Ben and the final $100 would have hopefully gotten him through until he got a job in the next town.

“I’m such an idiot.”

Curling in on himself, Virgil sobbed. The memory of Ben and his friends faces haunted his mind as he drifted into a light exhausted sleep.

 “Saw you found a new friend. Would hate for anything to happen to them in your absence.”

“I did work for him. That’s all.”

“Like we’d believe a fucken faggot like you.”

“It’s true! He’s just a clueless science geek with a busted computer.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it…I want my money by Monday. Got it?”

“That’s impossible. I’ve given you everythi-“

“If you enjoy pain, I’d keep up the excuses. Wouldn’t everyone love to know you’re the son of a murderer.”

____________________

End Note

Hi…It’s me…Snail. No, I didn’t abandon this fic (even though it was getting pretty close to a year since I updated). Why was I gone so long? Simple…I couldn’t keep up the dangerous cycle of sitting at a computer for hours to do work and then following that up with hours of writing and editing. It really turned unhealthy. So, I switched gears a little. I started writing in smaller bursts (actually have up to chapter 14 done) but I held off from posting until I reached a point were I could post within a reasonable time so you weren’t left on a major cliff hanger as this fic reaches its designated end (which looks to be at around chapter 16 or 17).

Anyway, I haven’t been completely out of the story telling game. I got into Cosplay and telling stories through TikTok (It’s Emily’s -stopitanxiety- fault. I loved her writing and saw her TikTok’s and wanted to be part of that world). It’s a little harder to tell stories using audios and acting out everything, but it’s a lot more on your feet. I actually realised I have the clothes to Cosplay Virgil from this universe and I am considering just vibing as Virge or making it an actual TikTok au story. I dunno yet.

Back on topic, next chapter should be up by the end of the week (just gotta tweak some things that I ended up changing). Warning for the next chapter – alcohol abuse is entering the tags.

Thanks again for reading. Happy timezone, friend 💜🐌

Tag List (let me know if you want to be removed. It has been so long I understand if you don’t wanna hang around)

@notalwaysthebadguy​      @thequeensphinx​    @ollyollyoxinfree​   @celeste-tyrrell​     @pumpkinminette​    @ahyeahisurehopeit-does 

_____________________________

Chapter 12    — MasterList

What else have I done:

The Perfect Ring (oneshot - analogical proposal)

You Promised (oneshot - prinxiety angst/injury/near death)

Sides of a Hero (Completed Fic - sides are fusions of impulses and aspects of Thomas. Virgil has a depressing past that he is forced to face thanks to Deceit and Rage. Was canon compliant at the time of completion)

The Shield to your Sword (WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary, healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton)

Writing Master Post

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles​

Also now doing Cosplay and storylines on TikTok: 1_1snailxd 

[baekchelor]

ａｓｈｏｒｅ[iii]

pairing: bodevan cash x reader genre: Doctor! AU, Romance, Angst summary: After a fall out with your fianceé, and an opportunity to chase your dreams, you embark into a medical mission trip to Namibia where you run into self-taught doctor Bodevan Cash. Love ensues. word count: 3.8k

❝the  sea  beckoned  to  me,  and  all  reality  was  lost —swept  away  in  the entrancing  song  of  the  tide. ❞                                                                                                                ―meredith t. taylor

TWO ｔｗｅｌｖｅ ｄａｙｓ

◄ ｐｒｅｖ

Bodevan's eyes looked like the morning sky every day after the first one you met them. Per diem, Bo's mood was bright as the sun too, although you did notice the tears confined on his bottom lid once ―when he concluded nothing else could be done and called 20:16 as Moharerwa's time of death. Bo summoned you to the OR after practising the caesarean section, as the doctor responsible for keeping Moharerwa's baby alive. Meanwhile, you were transporting the newborn into the incubator, Moharerwa went into cardiac arrest, and despite all his efforts, Bo couldn't keep her alive.

She did, briefly, meet her son, and the few minutes were enough to announce his name was Bodererwa. She thanked Bo and expressed her gratitude by naming her infant with the first two syllables of Bodevan's name.

Baby Bodererwa wasn't the only patient under your care. You treated an Irish girl who suffered from nausea and developed rashes. Rellian (Bo's younger brother) and you bonded over an uncanny case of seizures, muscle weakness and vision loss, you later diagnosed as Tay Sachs Disease. Tjiruru, a Himba man on his forties, came in with an acute case of Hepatitis C. Later, Tjiruru brought his sister, who two weeks ago, at Henties Bay's clinic, was prescribed with azithromycin for bacterial pneumonia. Bodevan figured out the medicine killed pneumonia's bacteria and caused other bacteria (that usually lives in a symbiotic relationship with the body) to produce toxins AKA Tjiruru's sister illness.

On day eight, you met, for the very first time, Danny Dupont. He was from Australia, with Kiwi heritage, and the reason why Bodevan got himself a kind-of-nurse.

Danny was diagnosed with viral cardiomyopathy, which caused his heart to fail. He came to Namibia because he didn't want to spend the rest of his days trapped in a hospital, waiting for a heart transplant. During a Safari across the Skeleton Coast, he fell in love with Peera, his tour-guide. Peera became Danny's reason to live, so he accepted to spend most of his days laying on a hospital bed if it meant he would win more time to enjoy alongside Peera. So she asked Bodevan to train her as a nurse, and Danny requested Bodevan to treat him. Now Bodevan has an Organ Donation Program running on the Himba village so, in case of any death, he can get a heart for Danny.

Today, Peera will host a "western" Birthday Party for Danny. It will be held at the hospital because Danny can't leave his cot, but Reillian will microwave a cake in a mug for him ―he saw the receipt somewhere on Pinterest―, and Bodevan managed to buy a few candles and balloons.

Also today, you're running late for your rounds. Dr Gandy video called early this morning, not to inform you about old patients, but to have breakfast with you. It was 2am for Ethan, but he ate pancakes and orange juice, the same receipt he asked room service to bring to your cabin, with the bacon crisped just like you like it, and with blueberries marmalade instead of syrup. You talked bout your medical experiences in Namibia, and that he will keep the Hamptons' beach house and Harper will have the pent-house in Soho. Ethan also said he misses you like crazy.

Guilt substituted the sugar in your coffee, souring the moment, and making clear that you wish you could say the same to Ethan. And you did, of course, you did, you lied. Truth is, Danny and his heart transplant, Bodererwa and his chances of survival, and every patient you've treated so far, keep your mind busy to the extent that, when you collide on bed, the only thought on your mind is to finally be able to rest.

Or so you tell yourself. Considering that dreamland and the pillow talk with your subconscious revolve around a particular wonderful being named Bodevan Cash.

"Morning!" all smiles, you greet as you walk into the teepee. You've grown to love the place.

"Morning, Intern!" and you've grown to love the nickname he calls you. Bodevan is teaching you about surgery, and yoga, and Hambi language, and about why the globe's entire population should be Maoists.

The boy is erudite. He was homeschooled, and his parents did a hell of a great job. To the point, Bodevan received college acceptance letters from numerous Ivy League schools. "I've got something to show you. Come here."

Bo hands you a pile of old letters. Right away, you know what they are, and you can't help but stare at each of them with your mouth agape.

"Holy Cow," your wide eyes travel to meet his. "Why didn't you go to any of this? Harvard is the best school for medicine out there."

"I never pictured myself as a Doctor," he says, while you check the charts for today patients. "I just wanted to go to college, be a normal guy. But when mom died, well...life has a funny way of trampling dreams, huh?"

"Yeah, it does," you murmur softly. "Sometimes, I just feel as if life controls me, instead of it being the other way around."

Bo looks at you knowingly, but careful of his own words, "Why do I get the feeling you're talking about your marriage?"

"I love Ethan. I'm just... if you've asked me what I wanted to do at my twenties, I would answer joining Doctors Without Borders, not getting married," you answer quietly, surprised at what has just left your lips. Hearing the inner thought that had been plaguing you for the past months being said out loud unnerved you.

"Was he upset about your trip here?" asks Bodevan.

"No. He encouraged me to do it, he even paid the ticket. I guess only because I was upset about him being married before. I know Ethan. He did this to erase the guilt from his system, to try to indulge me," you tell, fiddling with your white coat.

Bo eyes you in surprise, startled, "I-I didn't know he was married."

"He is married. They'll sign the divorce papers in two days. He never really told me, I just found out because his wife made an appearance at the hospital we both work at."

Bo remains silent for a while.

"I'm sorry. I have no idea why I'm telling you all this," you intervene awkwardly, suddenly feeling ashamed. He probably thought you were an idiot for sticking with a man who blatantly lied to your face. And you were likely making it worse by ranting on about your fiancé whom you swore a thousand times before that you were madly in love with.

But Bodevan just smiles. "No, it's alright. It helps to let things out. But if I were you, I'd tell him how I felt. If you're going to be spending the rest of your life with him…"

You sigh. He is right.

"Forget about it. What about you?" you pipe. "Any significant others?"

"N-no," he is all shy again, averting his blue orbs to the floor, as far from you as possible, and stuttering.

"But I assure you, he has ladies lining up for a shot," Peera quickly meddles, grinning. She's grabbing serum and a needle from the cabinets, probably for Danny.

You raise your brow, teasing, "Oh? Even with that 70's hairstyle?"

Peera gasps, clutching her chest dramatically. "I'm offended! I think it looks quite sexy on him, or so I heard..."

You giggle as the girl wiggles her eyebrows, Bodevan flushing red.

"I was kidding. It does," you confess.

"D-Does what?" asks Bodevan.

"Look sexy."

For a second, you don't quite realize what you'd said. But as Bo smirks, a bell goes off in your head. You feel your cheeks burn and you hastily look away from him, embarrassed. What is wrong with you?

You clear your throat, gaze hiding from Bo, "I should start my rounds."

These past few days were what you could only describe as confusing. And you had a feeling the confusion started when you accidentally told your mentor that his eyes looked like the morning sky.

It didn't help that during one of your night shifts, you dozed off on his shoulder, only to wake up sensing the weight of his head resting on top of yours, his breath on your hair, your lips near his neck.

It didn't help that over your clumsy attempts of getting into crow pose, you noticed how lovely his crooked smile was, and how when he chuckled, his eyes crinkled up at the corners.

And it certainly didn't help that you woke up to skies as clear and blue as Bodevan's eyes.

Nevertheless, you kenned something was seriously wrong when Bodevan touches your hand, and you actually feel sparks fly ―although that's medical impossible and you are a doctor, you should know. Or that when he, for some miracle, looks you in the eyes, your heart somersaults ―another impossible medical matter. Or that when he leans in to whisper some of his intellectual jokes that most of the time, you don't understand, goosebumps wash over your skin.

Something is happening, something is definitely happening, you just refuse to admit it to yourself.

At downfall, Peera and Danny urged you out of duty so you could go back to the cabin and get changed. With pleading brown eyes, Peera asked you to wear something special. She's been saving money for a while ―turns out Bodevan not only built a miracle in the middle of nowhere. In like manner, he helps the Hambi to sell handicrafts and jewellery at a souvenir store―, and the past weekend, Rellian drove her all the way to Henties Bay to buy a beautiful emerald dress. Therefore, you stopped by the hotel boutique and used Ethan's credit card to buy a gown made by a fluttering pink fabric.

When one of the hotel vans dropped you off at Bo's clinic, you're welcomed by the melody Bodevan and Danny are crafting through their guitars. They are singing Guns N' Roses' Patience, and although the one with the good voice is Danny, you can't seem to drag your attention away from Bodevan. He is wearing a suave, intricately patterned mustard jacket, buttoned low so that his chest peeks through. You hate that he looks so good in it.

A wide smile spreads across your features as you cheer for both guys once they've strummed their last chords. And then, the smile is stolen away when a tall, leggy blonde [you've never seen before] is suddenly leaning next to Bo, a flirty smirk on her lips. The girl whispers something to his ear, Bodevan goes beet red but nods anyway. To your annoyance, he follows her to the drink station Peera put together ashore.

Bitting down on the inside of your cheek, you watch Bodevan lean close into her, turning on the charms he ignores he posses. You force yourself to turn away, squeezing yous lids shut to get rid of the disappointment that is dawning your heart.

Why the hell are you getting this affected by him? He is your mentor, your peer. You've known him for a grand total of six days. Most importantly, you are engaged.

A hand carefully resting on your shoulder, pulls you off your thoughts. You turn, only to come upon Peera. "Her name is Elise. She's been trying to get in his pants since he fixed her sprained ankle a week ago."

"She hasn't managed," comments Rellian, handing you a red cup filled by what you presume to be wine. Chardonnay. 80's music blasts from the speakers shove over Bodevan's desk, and Rellian offers you a hand, "Do you want to dance?" His voice is bright and warm, and his enthusiasm washes over you. It is challenging to pint-point him as the angry teenager Bo told you about.

"Absolutely," you take his hand easily. "I should warn you, though, I'm not very good."

"That's fine. We'll take it slow." Rellian's grin is so inviting that you can't be worried about your poor dancing skills, so you happily follow him out to the beach. The song is an upbeat one, which suits his mood.

"It seems you've fully recovered from Bodevan breaking your heart a couple minutes ago," he jokes

"It's a shame he didn't do any damage," you shoot back, obviously kidding. "If I was heartbroken, I wouldn't have to dance with you."

Rellian laughs, "I'm glad you're as funny as everyone says you are. I hear you're my brother's favourite, too." It sounds as if it is common knowledge. "And that your engagement is troublesome―"

"I wouldn't call it troublesome," part of you is sick of people saying that. Another part yearned for it to be different, although you know people speak the truth. It is troublesome. Sighing, you confess, "Ethan lied to me. He is married, about to get divorced but married still. We' have been engaged for over a year, and I just found out about it a month ago."

Rellian stops dancing for a moment, shocked at what he's just heard. He quickly picks back up, studying your expression for a moment. "I didn't realize that was what was going on," he says softly, apologetic. "I mean, you know I want my brother to get the girl, but I didn't want you to get hurt."

"Thanks," you shrug. "I feel stupid more than anything."

Rellian pulls you in a little closer, yet keeping a respectful distance. "Trust me, Intern, any man who passes up the chance to be with you is the stupid one."

"Bo just passed me up..." <<Oh my god. What is wrong with you?>>

"That's how I know," he replies, followed by a thread of giggles. On cue, you glance over Rellian's shoulder and find Bodevan dancing with Elise.

Seven glasses of wine have paved their way through your system, Rellian keeps throwing jokes as you swing your figures to the beat of the music, when you hear his voice beside you, "My lady?" Rellian freezes in the spot, a knowing smirk appearing on his features. Complicit glances are exchanged, and finally, you turn on your heels to find yourself face to face, lip to lip, with Bodevan Cash. "May I have this dance?"

That feeling, that indefinable something, courses through you. As dejected as you'd felt, as embarrassed as you'd been, when Bodevan offers that moment, instead of to Elise, you have to take it. Because the song is slow, and it is Guns N' Roses, and the waves are crashing on the shore...And you're drunk.

"Of course."

Bodevan, clearly drunk as well, entwines your hands together and walks you near the seaside, where the water can dance as well, underneath your feet. He doesn't seem uncomfortable, or as if he fancied to dance with someone else rather than with you. On the contrary, Bodevan holds you so close you can smell his cologne and feel his stubble against the skin of your cheek.

"I was wondering if I was going to get a dance at all," you comment, trying to sound playful. Bodevan succeeds to pull you even closer.

"I-I needed to drink up my courage, so my second-thoughts are over. Now I'm brave enough to enjoy the rest of the night with you." This time you can blame it on the alcohol, but as both always do near each other, the two flush furiously. Sometimes Bodevan's words are like single lines of novels or movies. After dating Ethan for so long, it is weird to flirt with a guy that turns beet red on the cheeks, shy to speak bluntly. Ethan does it without an effort, he always speaks his mind, whether to compliment or with the sole purpose to hurt. They are poles apart. In every way possible. Bodevan didn't go to Dartmouth like Ethan did, Bo acquired his vast knowledge out of countless books. Still and all, he is as good a doctor as Ethan Gandy.

You are kneen on different and too stubborn to accept it, but the racing on your pulse betrays you.

"You look lovely, Intern. Much too beautiful to be on the arm of someone like me."

"Someone like you? This has been perfect, Bo."

"Agreed," he giggles. "Let's do this next year. Danny will have a new heart by then."

You look at him. Next year?

"Would you like that?"

"I won't be here next year, Bo..."

He stops dancing. "Why wouldn't you?"

On a dime, it hits him. Thank God, because you don't really want to say out loud the reason why this won't happen next year, at least not with you present, is that you'll leave in a couple weeks, get married and never come back. Despite the words ain’t articulated aloud, you know Bo has heard them, and you know he espies the water welling up in your eyes and how hard you're trying to hide them.

"Intern."  

You gaze down at the wet sand. The water suddenly feels cold.

"Intern, look at me," he says gently. "I'm such a nincompoop. I had just discerned tonight is all we have and I-I misused half of it by dancing with Elise." His voice is hoarse, frustrated. "I thought you felt secure in your standing." What? You are missing something here. Bodevan sighs, not relieved, but hugely nervous. The following words are said as his ocean orbs are settled elsewhere, anywhere, but your face. "Honestly? From the beginning, I've really only looked at you, wanted you." Bodevan manages to meet with your eyes, and his gaze is emotional, and blue and so deep that it overcomes you. So, for a moment, you duck your head. "I'm having a hard time accepting that you will leave... It's fine though, you'd be surprised how infrequently I get what I truly want."

You've treated with patients for years now, you've been trained to tell when they lie, how they're really feeling, find out their buried truths. And you can tell Bodevan is hiding something, some sadness he isn't prepared to share. But he shakes it away and resumes the talking, starting to sway to the music again. "But we have tonight, haven't we?. . ."—Bo looks at your eyes. Unwavering. —"There's only you, and me, and this beach. Tonight."

It takes you a moment to attain the correct rhythm of your breath and heart. You could understand the feeling— that it is unlucky, a kick in the ass from fate. Deep, deep inside you, you feel like that daily as well.

"We do," you whisper into his neck. "We have tonight." His lips are at your ear, kissing your earlobe. The arm resting on his back draws him nearer, and he mimics the action until you're physically closer to each other than you'd ever been.

You jump over a wave, and a chuckle bursts out when you turn around and notice Bodevan chasing you out of the sea. The level of alcohol is higher in your system, and your fancy dress is soaked by saltwater.

Bodevan runs faster, and as you're about to reach the back entrance of the teepee, he reaches for your hand, dragging you against his chest.

Before you can speak, he has you up against the wall, his body covering yours entirely. Bo is breathing heavily, panting, and you're just as breathless, not only because you'd just run like a madwoman. Bodevan's proximity to you and the way you can literally feel his chest rise and fall against you with his unsteady breaths is making your brain melt —even though you know, that is medically impossible too.

“What's wrong—”

He hisses and brings his hand up over your mouth. You halt, your breath stopping as you hear Peera and Danny's grunts and moans and pants.

With a crimson streak across his cheeks, Bodevan shuts his eyes and swears softly, not removing his hand from your mouth. You keep very still, trying to stay calm by breathing in and out through your nose.

"How do we proceed?"

"The hotel van will pick me up soon."

The pants grow fainter, but you're still able to hear Peera moaning Danny's name. You don't want to disturb them, or announce your presence outside, mere meters away from they having sex. This is their special night, and who doesn't enjoy a dose of birthday sex?

Bodevan doesn't let go of you for another 5 minutes. He just stands there like that, his forehead pressed against yours. Only when you are blinded by the lights of the van approaching, he quickly drops his hand.

"Peera and Rellian will take over tomorrow. We both have the day off. So see you M-Monday."

You swallow, "Do you want to come with me? I have wine in my cabin's mini bar—"

"Alright," mutters Bodevan, shaking his head at his very own embarrassment. "I-I would love to."

"Okay."

He smiles.

Breathless. That's how you'll describe your symptoms at this precise period in time. And you had been standing still for the past 15 minutes. 

Why is he making you like this?

You catch his eyes widen in surprise as you grab his hand and lead with to the insides of the van. You greet the driver and set off.

After you’ve reached Shipwreck Lodge, and you fidget with the keys to open your bedroom door, you remember Elise and their shared laughter, their noses almost brushing as they talked, and how Bo dismissed the whole thing. Uncertain about the weird feeling stirring in your stomach, you say, "So you really don't like Elise, huh? She must have been upset to see you running away with me like that..."

Bodevan raises his eyebrows, "Oh, it's no problem at all. I don't care about her. A certain other girl caught my eye, you see. And I can't ignore her. Not when she robs my attention with every small detail."

Your heart hammers in your chest. "Oh. Good for you."

Bodevan shakes his head. "Not really. She's engaged."

You almost believe he will talk further, because of the way he glances at you, his eyes sparkling with things unsaid and his lips parted. Or maybe he is about to kiss you...

But he just drags his stare back to his converse, and you grab two cups and pour white wine, hit play on your Guns N’ Roses playlist and invite him to sit down with you at the edge your mattress.

You aren't sure how long you lay there, talking to him. At some point, your eyes start drooping, as are his, and you fall asleep like that beside him, bodies over the undo bed, feet tangled together, and your hair sprawled across his chest. Without even noticing that at some moment during the night, your engagement ring fell from your finger, leaving it empty.

ｎｅｘｔ►

[craniumhurricane]

sometimes you have to break a few

Based on a Tumblr post I saw like forever ago and thought I took a screenshot of but can’t find:

I was in Publix and saw this woman buying a shit ton of eggs in front of me, she turned and looked at me and said “I don’t actually like eggs, my daughter’s boyfriend cheated on her and I’m going to egg his car.”

Because Clarke would be that mom.

On AO3!

It's later in the night than Bellamy would usually be doing his grocery shopping but it's the only time he was able to carve out during his busy week. The Ark High Spring Fling dance was tomorrow and somehow he was roped into signing up to help on the party committee. (Scratch that, he knows how, it's because he can't say no to Miss. Vie.)

There's only two registers open and since one is reserved for customers with 10 items or less, Bellamy opts for the other. He's zoning out and going over his mental checklist for the next day when the golden hair of the woman in front of him comes into focus. He watches her as she attempts to juggle about a dozen cartons of eggs from her hands to the conveyor belt. There's something familiar about her hair…

And then he hears her cursing and mumbling under her breath and all at once it clicks.

“Clarke?”

She startles and Bellamy is honestly shocked she doesn’t drop any of her eggs. She turns around, eyes widening as she takes him in, “Bellamy?”

He smiles, can't help it, “Holy shit, it is you. What's it been? Six years?”

She's smiling too, “Give or take but who's counting.”

He hasn't been counting, not really, but Bellamy knows he hasn't seen Clarke Griffin since she and his little sister graduated high school. She went off to some prestigious college and Bellamy stayed in Arkadia. He tried to keep in contact with her but she must have gotten a new number and then his Facebook was hacked and he didn't see a reason to set up a new one. Basically, it just seemed like they naturally drifted apart.

Except here she is. Standing in front of him in line at his supermarket at 9:30 at night purchasing approximately 144 eggs.

He feels like he's been staring too long, all his thoughts and questions jumbling together, so he asks the first thing his brain sends to his mouth...

“Come here often?” and cringes immediately but Clarke snorts out a laugh so maybe it didn't sound as bad as he thinks it did. 

“Wow, that was awful,” she answers for him, but she's smirking. “Is that your way of asking if I've moved back to town?”

“Yeah, that's the appropriate way to word that question.”

She chuckles, “I've been back almost 2 years now. I got a job over at the physical therapy and rehab facility on Second.”

He tries not to let it show but he's surprised she's been back that long and he didn't know about it. Clarke was the same age as his sister but the two of them were always closer. He always thought that if she ever did come back that she would reach out. She must see something on his face though because she continues.

“I didn't know you were still in town, though!” she says in a rush. “I follow Octavia on Instagram and she seems to be as far from Arkadia as she can get. I assumed you'd be with her."

He shrugs, “Arkadia was always more my home than it was her’s.”

She ducks her head and tucks some hair behind her ear, "Yeah that seems right."

The cashier is done ringing up the eggs and calls for Clarke's attention; the poor woman only looks mildly alarmed by the purchase. Now, Bellamy’s seen enough movies to know that the cool thing to do in this situation would be to tell the cashier to ring up everything together and he’d pay for all of it… But that's a lot of fucking eggs.

Clarke pays and then to his surprise she waits for him at the end of the checkout line.

“I would ask if you were baking enough cakes to feed an army,” he says on the way out to the parking lot, “but for the Senior Year bake sale you definitely brought store bought brownies.”

She purses her lips at him for a second before exhaling in a huff, “No, these aren’t for baking. My daughter’s boyfriend cheated on her and I’m going to egg his car.”

The first thing he registers from that sentence is that she has a daughter. It’s only been six years so if she had a kid right after she left for college then at most they’d be in Elementary School. Egging a 5 year old’s car seems a bit excessive. And then the rest of the sentence hits him and he laughs.

“Finn Collins?”

"Old habits?” she smirks. “Clearly I haven't matured with age… and to be fair, that time it was Raven's idea."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "So you got a kid?"

He can see Clarke's face visibly light up at the question, despite the fact that it’s growing dark out.

“Madi, yeah," she says, "I fostered her for about a year and it was rough at first but we got through it and I think we both realized just how much we needed each other. I started the adoption process after that and then moved back here once it was finalized.” She pauses for a breath, thinks about it, and then adds, “She goes to Ark High actually."

He stops walking which makes her stop too. 

“Wait, Madi Griffin?” he asks and when all she does is tilt her head in confusion he clarifies, “I teach freshman at Ark High.”

She gapes at him. “You’re Mr. Blake!? Madi talks about you all the time.”

“She’s never had a class with me," he says, dubious.

“Yeah well, you’ve always been able to make an impression.”

And suddenly it feels like old times. Clarke saying something nice about him and him not quite knowing how to accept it. She used to do it often, and adamantly, and he never felt like he deserved the praise but it never stopped her from giving it. Just like before, he feels warmth spread through his chest.

“So,” she shrugs, “you want to come with me? For old time’s sake?”

He doesn’t normally believe in signs but it feels like the universe is definitely trying to tell him something. He wants to keep hanging out, wants to catch up on the last 6 years and see if any of those lingering feelings are still there. He considers her offer for probably a bit longer than he should before reasoning finally sets in.

“Tempting but unfortunately it’s a school night,” he says, mostly as a joke but it's true. “Besides, I don’t think it would look good if a teacher gets caught egging one of his student’s cars.”

“You don’t even know if he’s one of your students.”

“And if I’m not an accomplice to vandalism then I’ll never have to know.”

“Wow, look at Bellamy Blake all grown up.”

“Well, one of us had to,” he teases and then before he can chicken out, “Let me give you my number though. In case you need bail money.” 

“Wow. Smooth,” she smirks but she starts juggling her bags so she can take his phone.

“The smoothest,” he says when she hands it back. He sends her a quick text so she has his number and after that there's nothing left to do but leave.

“I'd give you a hug but,” she lifts her hands, laden with bags. And then he suddenly feels the weight of his own bags digging into his wrists.

“Next time,” he promises with a smile. “It was good to see you, Clarke.”

“You too. Bye, Bellamy.”

He almost makes it all the way to his car before he has to turn around and take one more look at her. It might be wishful thinking, but he thinks she's just turned back around from doing the same.

*

He contemplated texting Clarke all night but figured that would be creepy and make him seem eager, which he wasn’t. She texted him a thumbs up emoji while he was putting away his groceries, which he assumed meant she made it home alright. He hadn’t known how to respond to it last night any more then he knew how to respond to it the next morning.

So he just ignores it, or at least tries to. He has work and then the dance, so in theory plenty to keep him occupied.

Apparently, he had no reason to worry about social norms and the proper etiquette for responding to an emoji because Clarke shows up to the Spring Fling dance that night. She doesn't notice him so he avoids her and asks Maya about it instead, like an adult. Apparently she signed up to chaperone. He really should have paid more attention to this thing.

He’s about to go over and talk to her but Maya stops him and requests his help rehanging some decorations that fell down. After that she sends him off to his position at the refreshments table for the night and he completely loses sight of Clarke. He wants to go look for her but that would require abandoning his post and he doesn't trust these kids not to spike the punch bowl.

He’s not sure how much time has passed since time seems to speed up and yet stand still at these things. He also gets absorbed in his job and even chats with a few of his students as they stop by. He’s just confiscated a flask from Ethan Hardy when there’s a commotion over to his left.

“I know it was you!”

When Bellamy turns, he finally finds Clarke again. Unfortunately, it looks like she’s pissed off Nia Winters.

Nia Winters, or Queen Nia as many teachers call her behind her back due to the fact that she constantly gives this “I’m better than you and I have the attitude and money to prove it” vibe, is a long time parent of Ark High and tries to get her hands in every committee. Her eldest already graduated years ago, but now she has two more that go to the school. Bellamy will honestly be happy when they’re done with her and her overbearing “my child can do no wrong” parenting.

“I know it was you that threw eggs at my son's car!” she’s yelling at Clarke now and it doesn’t take long for Bellamy to connect the dots.

It must have been Nia’s son that cheated on Madi. Now that he thinks about it, he vaguely remembers hearing about them dating.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Clarke replies, expression completely cool and unreadable.

“The hell you don't!” Nia gets right up in Clarke’s face. They’re starting to draw a little bit of attention so Bellamy slowly makes his way over, ushering kids to get back to the party as he goes.

“I wasn't near your son's car last night,” Clarke says, complete with a straight face that even Bellamy would believe if he didn’t know otherwise. And then she looks Nia right in the eyes and adds, “Though whoever did do it was probably justified.”

Nia rears back like she’s been slapped before settling into a position that Bellamy can only describe as a predator ready to pounce. “How dare-”

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says as he closes the distance with two long strides. There’s still a few students looking but at least they’re trying to be discreet about it. “Can I help with anything?”

Nia whirls around to look at him and thrusts a finger out a Clarke, manicured nail just inches from her chest. “I want this woman to admit what she's done and be removed from the premises so I can press charges.”

Clarke looks like she's about to say something but Bellamy cuts her off. “I'm sorry, but I'm afraid she's telling the truth.”

Both women turn to look at him, each with their own look of bewilderment and shock.

Nia looks from Bellamy to Clarke and back. “And how would you know that?” she asks defensively.

Clarke’s looking at him with that quizzical head tilt again. He meets her eyes for a second, hoping they’re still able to communicate without speaking and then turns his attention back to the other woman. “Because she was on a date with me last night.”

Nia’s jaw drops and out of the corner of his eye he can tell Clarke is biting the inside of her cheek to try and suppress a grin.

“W-Well,” the woman stutters.

“Maybe check with one of his other girlfriends,” Clarke says as she steps forward and puts her hand on Bellamy's arm. “From what I understand, it's a pretty extensive list. You might want to get started.”

And with that Clarke leads him back over to the drinks table, leaving Nia absolutely fuming. He’s afraid she’s going to try and follow them but she just stands there for a few minutes before marching towards the doors of the gym.

When they reach the table Clarke doesn’t remove her hand from his arm. “Thanks for the save,” she says, looking at the dancefloor, purposefully not meeting his eyes.

“Anytime,” he half shrugs. “But if you had told me that Madi was dating Queen Nia’s son last night then I probably would have helped you out.”

She finally turns and smiles up at him, “You got to help me out tonight though.”

There’s a pause again as they lull into a slightly awkward silence. Or maybe he just thinks it’s awkward. He’s afraid if he doesn’t fill it then she’s going to leave and then he’s right back where he started with a stupid thumbs up emoji.

“You know,” he starts to say and she looks back up at him. “Maybe we should grab dinner sometime. To make this whole dating thing more believable.”

“Wow, smooth,” she teases, but the effect is lost by how bright her smile is.

“We already established last night that I was smooth.”

She laughs and moves her arm to lace it properly through his. “Dinner sounds great.”

[ceo-of-choco-bibi]

ATLA Au

I have 3498 ideas for different aus and 2382948 headcannons but I don’t have the motivation nor time to write anything. One day, though.

Basic worldbuilding/setting: -The Avatar AU, the fire nation is the nightmare nation and trying to kill HCLW, who’s the firebender avatar. Giga/Fire Nation Base works with them and recruit strong benders and fighters. -Magic is still available here, but must be learnt. Anyone can learn magic, and non benders usually take up either magic arts or a weapon to learn to fight. -Avatars in this AU don’t die until they fulfil their “destiny”. They get reborn, until they complete their task. Ethan thought he found his place in Zara’s Guild and was pretty content living with them. He made protecting Armes and the Guild his main goal. After Armes died, he made it his goal to find Armes. Being defeated by Zero, he was confronted by the Gods and told to complete his task (which is not told to him. He’s basically supposed to work it out.) Also his bending rights were revoked. Other main characters: Sora: -Non bender swordswoman -Came from the fire nation, the side that rebelled against the nightmares. Was saved by HCLW. Dark: -Water bender Magician -Uses his magic to fight more than his water -Ironically has a fear of drowning. -When using his water, he uses blood bending and water control more naturally because he’s still a dark magician and apt at dark arts.

Grass Roots: -Bibi is earth bender, he's essentially Toph minus the earth bending competition because he's not dumb enough to enter one and expose himself, plus eyesight. He trains to fight without sight just in case, but can see well enough with glasses. -His parents died of natural causes after he turned 17. To the normal villagers, he’s just a reclusive rich guy living on the inner circles of Ba Sing Se hierarchy, so no villagers really know him. -He inherited all the money after his family died, and moved to a smaller house near the forest big enough for him, Tempest and Soup.  -After his parents died, he stayed for about 5 months before moving to the new house, then taking up Tempest’s advice, took up a nomadic lifestyle. They travel around as a pack and go to different parts of the world. The house is their base, they keep a chest of valuables in a secret vault buried under dirt and stone and visit every few months or so. 

-Tempest is a water bender but he doesn’t bend on main. Was a refugee at earth kingdom when he and Bibi first met (childhood friends childhood friends ch-) -Great grandmother was a water bender who fell in love with an earth kingdom nonbender. Because of this, he passes as a earthbender and is constantly mistaken as one when he says he can bend. -Was traveling with his nomadic water tribe parents and approaching gates of Ba Sing Se when tracked down by Fire Nation. Only he survived, and entered Ba Sing Se. Was “sold” to Bibi’s parents and made a bodyguard for Bibi and they became friends. -Uses water bending only for healing during desperate times, as projectiles. -He also doesn’t actually know how to properly waterbend and he bends with a very earthbender style since he’s been living in Ba Sing Se since he was 7. -Uses projectiles and his handmade crossbow as main weapon.

-Soup is an air bender, also not on main. Uses swords mostly and learns from MSM. He can use air but it's not powerful. Uses air mostly for propelling himself/flying. -Fled from the Fire Nation and took refugee in the Ba Sing Se with MSM as his guardian. Met Bibi and Tempest and became friends. -His bending gets stronger as they train. They use it as a form of transport and as defensive invisible barriers. -Uses his bending to boost his hits sometimes and to make his (very large, bulky and heavy) sword lighter. 

-MSM is a really powerful water bender who found Soup on his journey. Picked him up from the fire nation (where he was trying to escape from. He was a child air bender that Nightmare captured) and they went around training before settling in the Earth Kingdom.  -Is a swordmaster and doesn’t use his water bending as often. However, his bending skills are perfect and if without his sword, will fight with bending.  -Water bending is mostly used as attacks, freezing to form swords etc. Not much of healing. -After Bibi started going around, he went to the Fire Nation and started teaching swordsmanship there, scouting out good disciples and helping any defects leave the fire nation.

-Coco. Fire Nation defect/”Nightmare traitor” like Sora. Learnt under MSM before realising Giga treated people like shit and decided to leave. -Lives with MSM now and helps other Fire Nation people. -Non bender, swordsman main also. Is quite muscular due to vigorous training. -Was a mercenary for Giga before. Realised how terrible living conditions were in Giga/Fire Nation after visiting the Earth Kingdom with MSM

[callboxkat]

Deceit’s Purpose

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Author’s note: This is one of those fics that just kind of wrote itself. I don’t know what this is, but it’s Angst.

Summary: After the events of Selfishness vs Selflessness, Deceit tries to figure out how to get through to the other sides and show them that he’s right. But maybe it’s too late.

Warnings: Does this count as sympathetic Deceit? I’m really not sure. Morally gray, maybe? He’s not a sweet angel or anything, but he’s not horrible. Also, because it’s from Deceit’s perspective, Patton and Virgil are kinda vilified a bit. Expect arguing, lying, talk of lying and the morality of it, a wedding, insults, kind of depression, and an UNHAPPY ENDING. Shocker, I know.

Word count: 1654

Writing Masterpost!

Deceit paced back and forth in his room, angrily flinging his hat and gloves at the bed and fisting his hands in his hair.

Why were the other sides so ridiculously stubborn? So completely unwilling to listen to him?

Sure, he was Deceit. Sure, he lied. A lot. Maybe. But that didn’t make him bad.

Deceit’s main function was, well, deceit. But that wasn’t always wrong, and it didn’t always simply entail him trying to get Thomas to lie with reckless abandon. He had more class than that. More finesse. More sense.

Deceit didn’t just try to make Thomas lie: he also worked to get Thomas to recognize his lies, to be aware of them—especially when he was lying to himself. Especially when he was hurting himself by pretending to be something or someone that he wasn’t. Deceit was trying to look out for Thomas! To protect him! The others had even admitted as much the first time that Deceit had revealed himself to their host. So why did the so-called “light sides” still treat him like some horrible, irredeemable piece of garbage?

Now, not only was Thomas not going to the callback, but he was going to the wedding instead. An event he was most certainly not looking forward to. Thomas’s role in it was limited to simply watching the ceremony and saying a brief “hello” to the newlyweds to prove he was there. All it was going to do was make Thomas miserable and satisfy Patton’s need for Thomas to be some kind of morally pure, selfless angel.

But Thomas wasn’t an angel. He was a human. As a human, shouldn’t he get to be selfish sometimes? Especially when it came to once-in-a-lifetime opportunities like this?

Recently, Deceit had been trying to change things, to make them all more aware that Thomas needed to do things for himself sometimes. But it was beginning to feel pointless. Maybe they would never listen, certainly not to a liar like him. Their perceptions were too clouded by what Deceit was.

All he’d wanted to do with the court room scenario was teach the others a lesson and try to convince them to let Thomas do what was best for him for once. Truthfulness was not always the only good option. Selfishness was not inherently inferior to selflessness. Being deceitful did not inherently mean being a bad person.

Deceit wanted to help Thomas; and since he knew the others were hell-bent against Deceit, especially a certain overgrown child and a certain angry purple raccoon, he’d been trying to do it while disguised as one of the “light sides”.

But acting was hard. Deceit was not the creative side, and Thomas simply was not a good liar—therefore, much of the time, neither was Deceit. Even worse, the others didn’t exactly hang out with him a lot, so it was hard to get an idea of how to properly mimic them. He still did his best, but clearly it wasn’t working.

So, how was Deceit meant to help his host, to do his job? To keep Thomas from becoming someone that others simply used, took for granted, and tossed aside? He wasn’t going to duck out—he wouldn’t do that to Thomas, and based on the others’ behavior so far, they probably wouldn’t miss him until the damage was unfixable.

Deceit continued to pace, wracking his imaginary brains for something, anything, he could do to fix this.

But perhaps the damage was done. Perhaps there was nothing Deceit could do to convince them that he was worth listening to. This seemed particularly true in the case of the callback. The others, even Roman, Thomas’s creative drive, were set on making Thomas go to the wedding. All because Deceit had happened to be the one to most seriously try to get him to go to the callback instead.

And now there would be no callback. No Alfred Hitchcoppolucas. No movie, no fame, no fortune, no more doors opened for Thomas. Just more of the same. Just more of the main four sides forcing Thomas to do what they wanted, what Morality wanted.

Heck, the deciding factor that made Deceit choose to pop up in the first place during the callback vs. wedding debate had been the fact that Patton had just kept talking over Thomas, telling him what he needed to do without even asking Thomas what he actually wanted to do.

…

As time went on and the day of the callback and wedding neared, Deceit continued to try to change the others’ minds. But, of course, it didn’t work. Virgil would just yell, or hiss, or simply roll his eyes and leave. Roman would be clearly conflicted, but ultimately deny him, his mind already made up. Patton would point fingers and lecture him on right and wrong, leaving no room for Deceit’s argument. Logan might have listened to him more, but he was still mad at being mostly left out during the courtroom scenario. That may have been a mistake on Deceit’s part, in hindsight, but it was also yet another thing that he could not change. And any time he tried to speak directly with Thomas, Thomas would either immediately banish him, or Virgil would pop up and make him do it.

So, when April 13th finally came, Thomas went to the wedding. He missed the callback. And just as Deceit had expected, as Thomas himself had expected, Thomas had a terrible time. They all did, really.

Virgil spent the whole day anxious about everything that could go wrong. Roman was miserable, both because of the missed callback and because of the loneliness that the wedding dredged up inside him. Logan claimed to be unaffected, but Deceit knew that he felt that the callback would have better served Thomas’s needs and wants in life, even if not going to the callback was akin to Thomas having never gotten the opportunity in the first place. Patton was all but drowning in nostalgia and other feelings. Deceit, meanwhile, spent the day having Thomas lie about the fact that there was somewhere else that he would very much rather have been than at that wedding. And Thomas himself felt all of that.

It was a long day, in short.

Afterwards, Deceit was sitting in the dark, theoretically watching The Phantom of the Opera on the television in the commons of the mind palace. The television was on silent, Deceit’s head resting on one gloved hand as he watched the screen with glazed eyes, his mind elsewhere entirely.

“Ugh,” a voice said, interrupting his thoughts. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hello, Virgil. You’re exactly who I was hoping to run into this evening,” Deceit said, rolling his eyes.

“Just get out already. You lost, okay? There’s no point hanging around and bothering everyone anymore! Just GET OUT!”

Deceit turned to look at him. “Oh, of course. The entire mind palace belongs to you and your pals, how could I have forgotten?”

“Dude, if this is some pathetic woe-is-me act to try to get us to sympathize with you, it’s not going to work.”

Deceit, deciding he didn’t have the energy for this tonight, just released a heavy sigh and turned his gaze back to the television.

Virgil snapped his fingers, and the screen went dark. Deceit made a point of snapping his own a half-second later, turning it back on. Virgil growled at him. That was unusual, Deceit noted. Usually when Virgil chose to mimic an animal noise, he favored hissing. Roman was more of a growler.

“Why. Are. You. Here,” Virgil demanded, snapping his fingers again. This time, Deceit didn’t turn the show back on. He knew it would just lead to an endless, frivolous fight of turning the television on and off again. The main sides were rather ridiculous, after all.

“Because you’re completely incorrect,” Deceit drawled. “There’s plenty of time to change things. Thomas can still go to the callback, and even barring that, he can get another opportunity like this one! They just grow on trees, after all.”

Virgil frowned at him.

“I was going to watch a movie,” Virgil said.

“Well, clearly, no one else is watching anything right now,” Deceit said.

Virgil, even though he surely knew what Deceit meant by that, shrugged and snapped his fingers. A different movie started playing, Phantom of the Opera gone.

“I wasn’t watching that!”

“I don’t care. Don’t you get it? We don’t want you here. I don’t want you here. Just go! Get out of here!”

“No!”

Virgil threw himself onto the couch and put his legs up on it, crowding Deceit into the corner—as petty of a tactic as all get out.

“Why not? You don’t even do anything good for Thomas. All you do is show up in cartoonishly awful costumes and jeopardize all of his friendships! How is that helping? All you do is lie.”

“That isn’t all I do,” Deceit said, his voice shaking from anger, but slow and deliberate.

“Ah, he admits it.”

“Yes! I mean—No, I don’t! I’m not just deceit!”

“It is literally your name. You are Deceit.”

“You aren’t just Anxiety, are you?”

“That’s different.”

“Is it? Is it so hard to believe that I might be useful for things other than deception? You may be Anxiety, but you are also Virgil, correct?” Deceit was practically vibrating with anger now. Why did the others refuse to understand? Why did his primary function have to make getting his point across so much more difficult?

“Deceit—.”

“My name isn’t Deceit! My name is ETHAN!”

Virgil stopped. He stared for a moment, eyes wide. For a second, Deceit thought that maybe, he’d actually gotten through to him. Maybe, he’d actually found a way to start to prove to Virgil that he wasn’t just a single function, incapable of being anything more, of being anything good.

But then Virgil’s gaze hardened.

“That’s just another lie.”

[lettersofwrittencollective]

The Pull (8/?)

Summary: The Ragnulf’s are one of the oldest lines of werewolves known. A gift from ancient times was given to the line. Though not all of the line will experience it. There are some who will experience a Pull. This Pull leads them to their true mate, a soulmate. The problem is, just because the wolf finds their true mate does not mean that they are the same for that person.

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective 

 Pairing: Stiles x Hale!Cousin OC (Reader)

Word Count: 2842

Warnings: None

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

You were much too tired to ride so you hopped on the back of Isaac’s bike and make him do the driving. When you pulled up to a cream building you’d gotten off and asked Isaac what it is you were doing a veterinarian clinic. When he merely pointed out that this was where Scott was you nodded your head and followed your friend into the building. 

You were about to cross to the back but a barrier blocked you, it actually stung a little bit when you walked into it. Looking down, you recognized the wood that made the little door by the reception area. Your eyes scan the rest of the room and you realize that it’s everywhere. 

“Isaac, why is there a Mountain Ash all over the place?”

“Oh.. Deaton’s... this is Deaton’s place.” 

It’s then that a middle aged man walks out to the front, he’s wearing a lab coat and when he sees you his eyes quickly go from recognition to surprise then confusion. You’re not sure who this man is but he nods at you then Isaac and welcomes the both of you before opening the small door and letting you in. He walks to examination room where Scott and Stiles are at before moving on to another room.

Scott and Stiles greet both you but Scott is the only one to greet Isaac. As the man, Deaton, returns he has three vials in hand. 

“Xylazine. It’s a tranquilizer for horses. For a werecoyote, expect it to work within seconds. I only have 3, so whoevers shooting needs to be a damn good shot.”

“Allison's a perfect shot”

“She used to be...” Isaac counters and you remember what Allison had told you about the day she went shooting with Lydia Other than almost impaling her friend, she hadn’t been able to get an arrow anywhere near a target. 

“She can do it.” Scott counters and his voice is so sure that you almost believe it yourself. 

“If we manage to find the thing.” 

You turn to Isaac mouthing at him in disbelief as Stiles says “Okay, what is the point of him?” a finger raised in Isaacs direction, “Seriously, I mean what is his purpose” you let a low grow out at Stiles. 

Thankfully, either no one seems to notice or they decide to ignore you and Stiles continues “Aside from the persistent negativity. And the scarf?”

“Seriously Stiles?” you begin but Isaac shakes his head you and turns his gaze to Stiles who hasn’t stopped. “What is up with the scarf anyway? It’s 65 degrees out.” 

This time, you’re sure that you’re going to end up punching him. You had told him and Scott that you would help and you would but this was uncalled for and ridiculous. 

Isaac crosses his arms and leans forward on the balls of his feet slightly before addressing the room. “Look maybe I’m asking the question no one here wants to ask? Alright? How do we turn a coyote back into a girl when she hasn’t been a girl in eight years?”

“An Alpha’s call…” you answer simply and everyone turns their eyes on you, shocked that there’s an answer but also expectant for more. “You know that an Alpha has the ability to command right?” at their nods you continue “It’s that very thing. Usually, it works best within the pack bonds but an Alpha call can work outside of the bonds too.”

“But Tasha... she’s not a wolf…”

“No but she is a canine. I mean, it’s worth a shot isn’t it? Worst case scenario, it doesn’t work and were back to trying to figure out how to get her to shift. Best case scenario,” you turn your attention to Stiles, “We save a girl and help your dad out in the process.”

There’s a silence that follows and you all turn to look at Scott. He looks worried for a moment before standing tall. “I can do it.”

Stiles simply asks if he can and Scott nods. “You remember the night Peter trapped us in the school?” He asks Stiles and then turns to looks at you and your not sure why until he continues “In the gym he was able to make me turn using just his voice.. Deucalion did the same thing in the distillery.” 

You’re skin prickles at the thought, the Alpha call being abused in that way is a gross and uncomfortable. Deucalion know some for this so you’re not entirely surprised but Peter doing the same surprises you and bothers you on a much deeper level. 

Deaton asks if there is anyone that can teach Scott and Isaac nudges your arm, “What about your dad?” 

You shake your head, “He’s looking for Clara still..”

“That’s why you called Derek first.” Stiles says to Scott and they both look at you, expectation written clearly in their features. 

“I haven’t been able to get a hold of him - or Peter for that matter.”

Sighing, Scott says “I could try it on my own, but right now I’m too scared to change into even just a werewolf.”

“We need a real Alpha.” Stiles says somewhat absentmindedly. At Scotts, reaction, he tries to clarify, “You know what I mean an Alpha who can do Alpha things…. You know, an Alpha who can get it going…. You know, get it….”

“Up?” you offer when Stiles seems to be floundering for the right word to use. 

“Great- I’m an Alpha with performance issues.” Scott murmurs, softly. 

“Well hopefully those performance issues are just in connecting with your Wolf and not.. Other areas..” you mutter under your breath.  Scott looks genuinely worried at the idea while Stiles is gaping at you. Isaac, on the other hand, is trying really hard not to laugh. You hadn’t realized that you had said that loud enough to hear and it’s not like you can take it back so you’re trying to think of a way out of this particular odd situation when Deaton clears his throat. 

“Is there anyone else that can help?”

“I wouldn’t trust Peter.”

“Also not currently around, Isaac, so it’s not like he’s an option.” you remind through gritted teeth. 

“Maybe the twins?”

You’re about to point out that asking those two for anything is a colossally bad idea,  they were after all part of Deucalion's pack, when Deaton says “They’re not alphas, anymore. After what Jennifer did, almost killing them? It broke that part of them.”

“Yea, but what if they know how to do it?” Stiles counters.

“You’d still have to trust them which is a stupid idea.”

Stiles turns his gaze to you “Natasha, you said it yourself- we have to try. Worst thing that can happen is -”

“We’re right back where we started..” you grumble. Crossing your arms, you take a deep breath before sighting and throwing out just your forearms, “I still think it’s a bad idea.. But you’re gonna do what you guys need  to do. I- I’m here to help if you need it.”

Scott shakes his head and points out that it doesn’t really matter as no ones’s actually seen the twins in weeks. 

You don’t miss the scent of jealousy that seems to spike in Stiles when he says “Well, actually - that’s… uh… not totally true.” 

 You think  she can get them to help us?” Scott asks Stiles, a tone of uncertainty in his voice. Stiles merely nods his head and pulls his phone out before sending Lydia a text. 

As everyone’s waiting for a response, you all begin to discuss ways in which you can get Malia’s scent. It’s Deaton who thinks of something and tells the wolves in the group that there’s a pretty good chance of getting a really strong scent. 

You’re the one that decides to ask what he’s thinking. 

“Pee.” he says simply, logically. 

“Yeaaaaahhh- no .. That’s gonna be a hard pass from me.” You reply almost immediately. The 3 boys looking at Deaton as if he’s grown a third head. Before either of them can argue, though he’s put up his hand and pointed out that it’s the easiest way to get her scent. 

Isaac turns to you and you shake your head before he can even asl.

“Nuh-uh. Don’t you give me that look! I already stuck my muzzle into all kinds of places trying to catch a good scent. Besides, I told you that I can’t seem to get a specific scent down, everything is very generalized right now. You need to go with Scott.” 

Isaac opens his mouth to either argue with you or try to convince you but Scott cuts him off. “We’ll both go. But, we better go soon. Knowing Lydia, she’ll probably get something set up for tonight.”

Isaac doesn’t seem too happy about it but agrees without further argument at that. 

It’s after Deaton explains to the boys how they’re going to find the pee that Stiles’ phone goes off. After he checks it, he says “Lydia says she can get Ethan and Aiden to meet us tonight. You guys hurry up, I’ll go pick her up.”

Deaton gives Isaac and Scott each a vial and the four of you make your way back outside. Stiles’ phone goes off and he stays back a minute to talk to whoever it is. It’s once you’re actually outside though, that you and Isaac both remember  that you had ridden here with him. 

“Umm.. guys… I need to get this one back to the school.” he says, his voice somewhat apologetic. 

You shake your head at him, “No, you need to go help Scott.” 

Isaac looks at Scott who looks at you and then at Isaac and he looks frustrated at the situation but seems to understand where Isaac is coming from when he nods his head, “Yeah.. get her back..”

“It’s fine you two. Isaac, go help Scott with this pee business.”

“But -”

“Natasha”

“You guys,” you interrupt them at the same time that Stiles is calling for Scott. Scott looks like he wants to argue with you but decides that whatever Stiles needs right now is more important. He moves towards the brunette who is now outside the building. 

Turning to Isaac you remind him that you have two working legs that are very capable and Beacon Hills has a bus you can take back to the school. 

“Natasha” Isaac practically growls, “the school is on the other side of town.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing I’ve got these.” You say smugly as you snap out the claws on your left hand. When he still looks worried, you allow your claws to recede and take his hands in yours. “Isaac, I promise.. I’ll be okay. I can take care of myself. Besides.. What’s the worst that can happen?’

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because Isaacs eyes widen and a fraction of a second and it’s not till he’s calling out for Stiles that you realize his heartbeat also picked up. 

Stiles hears Isaac calling his name and doesn’t even to bother to hide the annoyance on his face, “Look wolf boy, if you even think about -”

“Can you take Natasha back to the school to get her bike?” Isaacs cutting him off with an actual plea in his voice. He’s shocked to say the least and watches as said girl quickly turns around to face him. 

Stiles is still trying to get past his shock but was able to make out that she planned on walking back to the school, “Wait you’re gonna walk?”

“Yea, why wouldn’t-”

“Nope! Get in Roscoe, you’re not walking. It’s on the other side of town.”

“Werewolf! Remember?”

“Don’t care.. I’m taking you. Now either you go willingly or I throw you in the backseat.”

She’s glaring at him as if he’s done something wrong and he crosses his arms in front of him, returning her glare with a stare of his own. “You don’t scare me little  werewolf.”

Stiles sees her flash a fang at him and he merely raises an eyebrow in response before Isaacs pulling her attention. The two are arguing In hushed whispers before she throws her hands up and huffs. Isaac merely smirks at her before she turns her back on him and makes her way over to the trusted jeep. 

He rushes ahead of her to get the passenger door open and opens the passenger door for the irritated girl. She looks surprised for a fraction of a second before nodding her head and getting in. Closing the door behind her, Stiles makes his way to the drivers side and they’re on their way. 

While they drive through Beacon, Stiles is trying to think of something to say to the girl beside him as they make their way back to the school. Scott had asked him to at least make an effort with the girl and he had to admit that she had been quite helpful today. He goes to start a conversation a couple times before finally settling on something, “So, how do you like Beacon Hills so far?”

Her dry chuckle makes him glance in her direction, and he sees her staring out the passenger window. He waits for her to answer but she doesn’t and maybe it’s because he hasn’t been sleeping or it’s because he’s gotta go face Lydia and be ok with her being so - infatuated, with Aiden and he’s kind of sore about it that he snips at her “You know, you can always leave if you want.. you don’t have to help us.”

“You - you stuck up nerf herder!! Who said anything about wanting to leave?! ”  Out of the corner of his eye can see her turn practically her entire body toward him while still sitting in the passenger seat. 

“Stiles, has it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, It’s a bit uncomfortable for me to spend time around someone who has made it very obvious that he doesn’t actually like me?  I haven’t done a single thing for you to dislike me and yet you still seem suspicious of everything I do. Hell i’m still half expecting you to try and turn around this morning into me somehow being… evil!” She was gesturing with her hands and her voice had gotten loud in the end, as he was actually bothering her. 

Stiles immediately recognized the reference and was surprised that she knew it, let alone made it. But, what bothered him was that she felt that he didn’t trust her. Debating with himself for a moment, he chooses a course of action.

“You know, that  line is actually ‘ you stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf herder!’”

The laugh that leaves her lips is nothing like he’s ever heard before. Not only is it infectious but it settles something within him and before he realizes it, he’s laughing with her. 

It takes them a few minutes to collect themselves but she’s smiling at him by the end and he thinks to himself, it’s a smile that lights up everything around her. 

“You got that?”

“Of course! You didn’t think that you could quote Leia at me without me realizing it did you?”

“Stiles, from what I can see, you are definitely not scruffy looking and you definitely aren’t half witted.” She says and he can’t help but sit a little bit taller. 

The two of them spend the rest of the drive to the school, which really was just a few minutes, talking about Star Wars and Stiles is excited at the prospect of having a friend that will finally understand and appreciate his many references that Scott never seems to get. 

Once they get to school, he puts Roscoe in park and is quick to jump out while she gathers her things. He pulls her door open for her and she looks at him in surprise before her brow furrows and she’s tilting her head to the right in confusion. 

“What?”

“Nothing - it’s just that there have only ever been four people in my life who make sure that they open doors for me. Considering three of them i’m related to it’s just surprising to have someone else do it.”

Stiles can feel the flush on his cheeks as he stammers, he’s  going to defend himself but she places a hand on his arm to steady herself as she gets off the car, 

“It’s not a bad thing Stiles, it’s just .. unexpected. You guys be careful with whatever you do with Lydia and the twins alright. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Stiles nods his head and watches as she gets on her bike. As she’s about to put on her helmet he calls her name. When she turns to him, he says “May the force be with you, Padawan.” 

“I think you’ll need it more today.” she chuckles and he watches as she rides off for just a moment before his phone is ringing and scares him half to death. 

-

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tag list: @nicole-lynne @fandom-princess-forevermore @capandbuck @biles-bilinski-24 @stiles-o-dylan24 @fiveisadorable @falling-stars-never-cry @blueraindrops @its-livelovelife @screamxqueenx94 

Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is the property of lettersofwrittencollective . Associated characters belong to MTV and are being borrowed for this work, all OC’s are the property of lettersofwrittencollective. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Posted 16 March 2019

[perriewinklenerdie]

At last (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Here we are, the fluff train has arrived at its destination. The idea to write this came from listening to the beautiful song mentioned in this piece. My mind just can’t seem to stop coming up with ideas for Ethan and Claire, so that’s how we ended up here!

As always, English is not my first language, my MC is Clarissa “Claire” Herondale and my mind may have gone a little over the board for this one but oh well.

Enjoy! <3

 Word count: 2263

 Ethan knew there would be this grand ball to celebrate the end of this goddamn competition. He didn’t think he would be excited to attend, but when he got the message that Claire had won, that every judging doctor has chosen her, he couldn’t wait to see her face when she finds out that all of her hard work has paid off.

He noticed how some of the interns treated her. Her own roommate, dr. Varma, seemed to treat her like trash, her ambition not allowing her to maintain a decent behavior and relationship with someone obviously better than her.

His mind wandered to a certain night in Miami, his slip in his control. He remembered vividly the way her body fit perfectly next to his, it was as if they were made to be together. He remembered the way his name fell from her lips, the way her body felt under his hands. He couldn’t get enough of her in that moment.

Hell, he was sure that if he had the opportunity to do it again, he wouldn’t hesitate.

That night was the best night of his life to date. He knew he might never get the chance to have her in his arms, but he had his memories and stolen glances. It wasn’t enough but it helped him cope.

The ball night came. He put on his best tux, leaving his hair be, brushing it lightly to keep in neat.

Arriving to the event, he took a look around the room. He saw that surgical intern, the one that made him jealous time and time again, not having dr. Varma in his arms. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or if he felt sorry for the young man. He decided that he did both, equally.

Next to him was that paramedic, a young woman with black hair on his arm, he didn’t recognize her, but they did seem to get along.

He noticed Harper by the stage, talking to Zaid and Ines. He approached them slowly, trying to avoid bumping into anyone.

“Hi, Ethan! Excited?” Ines was always one of the doctors he simultaneously liked and couldn’t understand. She was so happy almost all the damn time but she was a great doctor, compassionate and eager to help interns. That’s why he liked her. She didn’t mind helping interns, taking some of his work in that department from his shoulders.

“Yes. I’m relieved it’s finally over. We can get over it and go back to the normal routine.” He murmured, avoiding direct eye contact. Harper smiled at them and went to take the stage.

“May I have your attention, please?” she spoke clearly into the microphone, gathering the attention of everyone in the room. “It’s time to announce the name of the intern that’s going to join the diagnostic team lead by dr. Ethan Ramsey.” The whole room cheered, clapping.

The lights shone on him. He bowed his head towards the crowd, turning away to look at Harper again.

“Congratulations, dr. Clarissa Herondale! From this Monday you’ll be working and learning from the best diagnosticians in this country.” She smiled genuinely as the young intern came up to stand next to her.

He hasn’t had the chance to see her yet tonight. And he almost wished he did. He didn’t expect the sight that was her. He wished he had some time to prepare.

She was wearing the dress. The same dress she wore in Miami. The same dress he kissed her in. The same dress he hiked up to touch her, pulling her closer to him.

She shook Harper’s hand and thanked her, said a few words, thanking everyone for trusting her with that responsibility and for giving her a chance.

“I’d also like to thank dr. Ramsey, for inspiring me to become a doctor, for watching over my work, pushing me to become the best doctor I could be, teaching me valuable lessons. It means the world to me. Thank you.” she looked at him, a genuine smile on her face. He nodded towards her, trying to cover up his raging emotions, a slight blush on his cheeks.

She went down the stage with Harper towards them. Ines took her in her arms, hugging her tightly.

“I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it!” she smiled widely at her.

“Congratulations, Herondale. Good job.” Zaid shook her hand. Then she turned towards him. and his brain was fried.

He had no idea what to do, how to behave. A handshake was not enough, a hug might be too much. He opted for something in between.

Their hands met in a handshake, his other hand resting on her shoulder, squeezing her lightly.

“Congratulations, dr. Herondale. Welcome to the team.” The corners of his lips went up against his will.

“Thank you, dr. Ramsey. I hope I can rise to the challenge.”

“I know you’ll do good. You wouldn’t be here if we weren’t sure you would.“ she had a look of relief on her face. She bowed down slightly to them before walking away from them to join her friends.

He felt a hand on his arm. Turning, he saw Harper looking up at him, a teasing smile on her face.

“Are you ready?” she asked softly, keeping her voice quiet.

“Ready for what?”

“For finally admitting your feelings and acting on them.” He was stunned. Was he really that obvious?

“I…”

“Ethan. It’s nothing wrong. It’s okay to feel. The competition is over. There is nothing hanging over your heads. I say you should go for it and see what happens. In the worst case scenario, she doesn’t feel the same. But trust me. She does.” She offered him a kind smile before patting him on his back and leaving him alone to his thoughts.

The night was going smoothly. He kept a close eye on her. Noticed how she danced with a few of her friends. Normally he would get jealous, but he knew that he had nothing to worry about.

He spent most of his night observing other interns interacting with her. Dr. Varma had a disappointed look on her face but she did smile congratulate her, engaging in a conversation that ended with an embrace. Aurora Emery had relief written all over her face, he even saw her give Clarissa a hug.

Their eyes locked a couple of times during the evening, all sorts of emotions in them. He wanted nothing more than to walk up to her, talk to her. But there was still this fear in the back of his head.

Harper made him dance. He knew how, he was excellent at it, he just didn’t like to do it. The song came to its end and she thanked him for the dance, going off in the direction of the man managing the music. He turned around to leave the dancefloor when he came face to face with Claire. She had her arms folded over her chest, a soft smirk on her face.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re avoiding me.” She laughed at him, her humor was contagious. He felt his own lips curl in a soft smile, only for her.

“I’m not avoiding you. You were busy and I didn’t want to interrupt you.” he felt insecure all of the sudden, his mind still not functioning properly. “You look amazing.” He appraised her look, her cheeks reddening.

“Thank you… I deemed it fitting. Wouldn’t you agree?” she teased softly, her eyes revealing her insecurity. He knew what she was thinking about. He was thinking about the same thing. The same night.

They fell silent. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He was never good at relationships. Women were a mystery to him. He almost bolted towards the door when they both heard the first notes of the new song.

Soft melody of “Beneath your beautiful” began playing, falling over them, setting the mood.

He turned towards her, extending his hand towards her, a question in his eyes. She placed her hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

He pulled her towards him, placing his other hand at her waist delicately, memories of the last time he did that flooding his mind. They stood closely together, looking into each other’s eyes.

He started guiding them together across the dancefloor slowly, dancing to the tune of the ballad.

It was as if there was no one else in the room except for them. There was only her for him in this room, in this world.

There was no point in denying his feelings anymore. It wouldn’t do anyone any good. He knew what he was feeling and while he couldn’t be sure what she was feeling, he was done with hiding.

As the song went on, their faces got closer and closer together, oblivious to the various looks they got from the people around them. His arms circled her waist, bringing her even closer, spinning her out before bringing her back to him.

The song reached its peak and he dipped her low, her hands on his arms, holding on to him, but she saw certainty in his eyes. She knew he would not drop her.

He brought her back up, turning slowly, their noses touching. They made the decision at the same time.

Their lips met. She inhaled sharply, bringing her fingers to his hair, soft strands tangling and falling through them. He couldn’t believe his luck.

He finally had her in his arms again. And this time round, there was no regrets. There was no one to tell him he shouldn’t be kissing her like his life depended on it. There was no voice in his head telling him to stop bringing her back towards him every time their lips came up for air. There was no one and nothing to stop him from making her his, except maybe for the fact that they were in the room full of people.

They separated as the song came to the close. Their eyes opened and locked, smiles on their faces. She touched her forehead to his, her hands still in his hair, moving to his neck, keeping him close.

“Claire…”

“If you’re going to tell me you can’t kiss me and you can’t be with me, I swear to god, Ethan, I’m going to hurt you.” she teased him, smiling.

“I’m not going to say that. I am not going to deny my feelings anymore. I feel strongly for you, Claire. You are important to me. I will cherish you and support you, if you want me to. If you let me” He whispered to her, tenderly, vulnerable and scared to be hurt. She placed her hands on his cheeks, bringing his lips to hers again.

“I want nothing more than to have you by my side. You are important to me too, Ethan.” She touched his nose slightly with her finger. A smile bloomed on his face, the biggest smile that anyone has ever seen him give to anyone.

They kept on dancing slowly when he felt someone tapping him on his shoulder. They turned to see Harper, Ines and Zaid standing there, their faces unreadable.

“Dr. Emery…” Claire started, but Harper raised her hand to stop her.

They all smiled, looking happy.

“I’m proud of you. Both of you.” Harper placed her hands on their shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

“Congratulations for both of you. I always knew you two would make a splendid couple!” Ines squealed, hugging both tightly.

“Nice, I’m happy for you.” Zaid, always a man of a few words, patted him on the back and touched her shoulder gently, a hint of a smile on his face.

Then they left, leaving the couple alone again. Not for long though. Few minutes passed and it was her friends that interrupted their dancing again. He looked over their faces, searching for any signs of disapproval, but surprisingly, he found none. Not sure if it was because they were happy for them or if they were just too scared to say anything to him.

“Claire, finally! You two are the most stubborn people I know!” Sienna cried out, hugging her best friend and looking happily at him, not wanting to cross the line. Good, he appreciated it.

They all proceeded to hug her, Bryce and Rafael shook his hand. He kept his arm around her throughout the whole ordeal, hugging her to his side.

“I’m happy for you. Both because of the competition and this.” Dr. Varma admitted, looking between the two of them. He was surprised. Out of all her friends, he expected her to make a scene once she found out about their blooming relationship.

“Thanks guys, it really means a lot to me.” She smiled brightly at them. The bid them goodbye, leaving the pair alone to themselves.

He turned towards her again, his arms back around her, pulling her closely to him. She laid her head on his shoulder, their bodies swaying from side to side, dancing the night away. At last, he didn’t have to hide. At last, he could openly express his feelings towards her.

At last, he could be happy.

  Tag list:   @paleweasels, @lilyofchoices, @hopelessromantic1352, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian, @radlovedreamer, @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @galaxiia-quean, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @fangirlingmum, @claudevonstruke, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @noneotherthanthejoker, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington, @marywrites-things, @ethanplaysfavorites, @mfackenthal, @betelgeusebee, @simsvetements, @fabi-en-ciel, @confessionsofabrokegirl

If you want me to tag you, let me know and if I forgot to tag anyone, tell me so I can correct that!  :D

[twotwinks]

benthan for 001, and benji for 002

I hope you realize what you’ve unleashed here- It’s so ungodly long that I’m adding a cut to save your dashes.

001 | Benthan

When I Started Shipping Them

So I went back through my posts because I very vividly remember when I realized I’d fallen for this ship. I first mentioned that I might have started shipping them in the tags of a post on September 15, 2018, and after I acknowledged it, I was sold on it. So I’ve shipped these precious soft boys for just a little shy of two months!

My Thoughts

This is so vague and mean, I don’t even know where to begin… I just… I love them a lot. I don’t think I’ve ever really felt this strongly for a ship before. I mean, I’ve had OTPs before, but never an OTP that actively made me want to rip my heart out because I just can’t handle the emotions it causes, positive or negative. It’s also the first ship I’ve ever written fic for, and it honestly just feels so natural, it’s so easy to write romantic stuff for them and virtually impossible to write something platonic. Plus, without this ship, I never would’ve made any tumblr friends. I’d still just be sitting on the outskirts, randomly reblogging stuff and trying desperately to come up with decent content for my fandom blog. Now I know Ruth and Cassidy and Stanislas and everybody else, and I have so much fun seeing everyone’s posts and participating when I’m brave enough (even though I still sometimes wonder if I fit in, and even if I don’t, I’m just grateful everyone still plays along with me) and honestly it’s one of the brightest parts of my life right now. I see a note or a message or someone tags me in something and sometimes it makes me want to cry because people are thinking about me. So I love this ship even more for that.

What Makes Me Happy About Them

There’s just so much. There’s so much to be happy about them. I love the way they smile at each other. I love how loyal they are to each other. I feel like they fit the “I’d follow you to the ends of the earth with only mild complaining” better than anyone else, because they would, they’d do anything for each other. And even if you look at their relationship as platonic, that’s an incredibly strong friendship, and it just warms my heart.

What Makes Me Sad About Them

The fact that one day one of them is probably going to end up dying trying to save the other one. I’d really like for them to leave fieldwork so they can live happy and safe together for the rest of their days, but I know that Ethan would never be able to live like that. Fallout told us that much. And you can bet that as long as Ethan is in the field, Benji’s going to be right by his side.

Things Done in Fanfic that Annoy Me

I dunno, really. Most of the Benthan fic we’ve got is pretty solid. Some of the smut’s a little weak, but I only occasionally venture there, so it’s not too big of a deal. One thing that does sometimes bug me, even though it’s literally the most nonsensical and ridiculous thing to be bothered by, is when they’re referred to as boyfriends or use terms of endearment on each other. I have no idea why it bothers me, it’s such a perfectly reasonable thing!!! I guess maybe I feel like they’ve just been friends with each other for so long and they know each other so well that they wouldn’t bother labeling it. At the end of the day, they’re still just Ethan and Benji, just like they’ve always been. I don’t know. I know it’s stupid, but it can still sometimes throw off the whole vibe of the fic for me. Which is ridiculous. I’m ridiculous.

Things I Look for in Fanfic

Good characterization. That’s such a big thing for me, especially now that Ethan and Benji have been my daydreaming muses for so long now. Their voices are so strong in my head, especially Benji’s. So a fic has to have really good characterization for me to love it. I also really like reading (and writing!) anything that deals with Benji’s trauma and hurt/comfort with Benji as the victim. He just deserves to be taken care of. Poor guy’s earned a hug or ten.

Who I’d be Comfortable Them Ending Up With, If Not Each Other

I suppose I’d be okay if Ethan and Ilsa ended up together. I really don’t want Ilsa to be demoted to the love interest, though. She’s such a good character, and Fallout already did her so dirty. But she’s the only other person I could see Ethan having a chance of being happy with. As for Benji, well… I think I’d just prefer him to stay a Single Pringle. If Ethan (or I!) can’t have him, no one can! I know Benji/Brandt is also a pretty popular ship, but it’s honestly just not my cup of tea. I can’t see it (or maybe I’m just too blinded by shipping Benthan so strongly).

My Happily Ever After for Them

Preferably for them to never ever set foot in the field again and buy a little house together where they host cozy holiday dinners and snuggle together on the couch after long days of training new agents and teaching them about the importance of the team dynamic. But, as I explained earlier, that’s unrealistic for these two. So, if they must remain in fieldwork, I pray that either they both manage to last long enough that they’re forced to retire (and then Benji will have to help Ethan cope with not being able to prevent bad things, so not exactly ideal) or that they both die together in the field, at the same time, so that neither of them will have to live with the guilt of losing the other (again, not ideal because then they’ll be DEAD).

Who is the Big Spoon/Little Spoon

Benji is the little spoon I don’t care if he’s taller I WILL FIGHT YOU ON THIS. Benji likes being held. It makes him feel safe after all he’s been through. Grounds him, you know? Gives him a sense of security. And Ethan likes holding Benji, because he knows that no one can hurt Benji when he’s there in Ethan’s arms, and even if Benji has nightmares, Ethan’s already right there to help him.

What is Their Favorite Non-sexual Activity

They are cuddlebugs. They snuggle everywhere, every chance they get. I don’t know if cuddling counts as an activity, though. I think they also like reading to each other. While cuddling. Because I can’t imagine a scenario where they could reasonably be in physical contact and yet wouldn’t be. So yeah. They like to cuddle.

002 | Benji

How I Feel About This Character

I… I love him. So much. Probably more than I should. Rogue Nation was the first M:I movie I saw, and I’d been kinda passively watching it until the high speed chase scene. I’d looked up from my crochet enough to notice Simon Pegg (who, at the time, was still just Scotty to me – can you believe that???), but then he started screaming during the chase, and I started paying attention, because hey, that’s exactly what I’d probably do in that situation, I like this guy. And then by the end of it Benji owned my heart, because Simon Pegg is a phenomenal actor and made me feel all of the emotions when Benji was strapped to the bomb. Mostly because Simon’s eyes are incredibly expressive, something I first noticed towards the end of Star Trek Into Darkness and still notice in most of his films. Then I went back and watched all the films, and I made small involuntary happy noises when he showed up in M:I:III. And he was so cute in Ghost Protocol. I nearly had a breakdown in the theater towards the end of Fallout (you know when I mean!) because I’m so attached to him. I actually legitimately said “Oh thank god” in the theater when it all worked out. I might have even cried a little. I was so worked up that I didn’t even fall for the bait-and-switch at the end. I didn’t have the emotional capacity to even process it as a possibility. So yeah, I think I’m unhealthily obsessed with Benji Dunn.

All the People I Ship Romantically with This Character

Ethan. It’s literally just Ethan. Ethan or bust.

My Non-romantic OTP for This Character

Benji and Ilsa are bros. Fire-forged friends. They’ve both gone against each other once or twice, but now they know where their loyalties lie, and they’ll help each other out when they need it. Total bros.

My Unpopular Opinion About This Character

I don’t know if I have one, really. Although I always kinda imagined Benji as a really good baker, or that he at least enjoys baking in his free time, but then I discovered that apparently a lot of people headcanon him as an awful cook? So maybe that’s one.

One Thing I Wish Would Happen/Had Happened with This Character in Canon

I just want his trauma to be addressed. He tries to talk about it in Ghost Protocol, and Jane and Ethan both look kinda worried, but then Brandt just jumps in and SHUTS HIM DOWN, and nothing more is said about it. And he’s been through much worse since then. Even if it’s just a simple, “Hey, you okay?” from LITERALLY ANYBODY. I’d take it. (I’d prefer it even more if Benji got a hug out of the deal. He needs a hug, poor baby.)

My OTP

Benthan. In case you haven’t figured it out by now.

My Crossover Ship

I have never actually considered this. And I’m not sure I will. I’m just so invested in Benthan, I don’t think I have the capacity to ship Benji with anybody else. I can’t even think of anyone he’d click so well with. (I’ve always been bad at the crackship thing anyway.) Maybe a lone Nick Frost character somewhere. Those always make for good ships, right?

A Headcanon Fact

Hmm… I’m really bad at this stuff, aren’t I? I either give away my answers way ahead of time or can’t come up with anything. Well, outside of Benji being a baker and my fun-to-think-about idea that all Simon Pegg characters are actually related to each other, I usually headcanon Benji as a pretty panicky sort. When I write his internal monologues, I usually get going with these long, looping, drawn-out sentences that all circle back and compound on each other and just make everything so much worse for him. He’s a worst-case-scenario kind of person. Even when things work out, he drives himself mad constantly running through the what-ifs. That’s probably me just projecting onto him a little, but I feel like it’s worked out okay in the few fics I’ve written. I also headcanon that he’s a big-time stargazer, especially when he feels overwhelmed, something that I originally chucked into a fic because I needed something for Benji to do (and also as a I’m-probably-the-only-one-who-got-it nod to Star Trek) but now I firmly stand by it as something he does.

There. That’s that. I started this two hours ago. I probably should’ve been in bed an hour and a half ago. This is ridiculously long. I hope someone finds my obsessive ramblings enjoyable instead of just irritating.

Thank you for giving me the chance to gush like this, Ruth! It feels like I never get to talk about the things I love often enough. At least not to people who actually want to hear me gush about them!

[clairekatswritingcorner]

Where Do We Go From Here?

Word Count: 2,104

Summary: Alexys is the only one who believes in him, and part of that is only because she believes in herself. Despite the warning signs, she refuses to accept that there isn’t something redeemable in the alien overlord that was once a formidable enemy to she and her crew. Can her hope prevail over his malevolence?

*Author’s Note*: Another commission for @bad-blue-moon-rising, this time featuring her bad timeline canon AU for her selfship with Ug! Just by that description you should expect that it’s sad, and if you don’t, I’m telling you that it’s tragic and makes my heart hurt jfielshge BUT never fear, somewhere in there a happy ending can still be seen. I hope you enjoy!

A few weeks had passed since they’d managed to put the chaos to rest, but things were still pretty tense. Alexys was the one who shouldered the brunt of the burden, considering the integral role she’d played in creating this situation in the first place. Thanks to her, the fallout had caused less damage than expected, which was a relief no one took for granted. But she’d also convinced the crew to allow her to bring the TerraCor head back with them, alive and in one piece. Not everyone was keen on the idea from the beginning, and it had taken all of Alexys’s skill and persuasive power to convince them that this decision wouldn’t end up coming back to bite them. Their circumstances already couldn’t get much worse, which was probably why the team ended up caving to her proposition with minimal fuss.

Part of her was still in denial about the fact that she’d fought for such a cause at all. She had every right to be just as bitter as everyone else, to take her frustrations out on the man at the root of the nightmare they’d just barely managed to survive. He was ruthless and stubborn and unappealing…well, that last point was a little bit debatable in her eyes. Eyes whose opinion she wished she could have ignored, that she regretted letting sway her feelings in the first place. The man they’d captured and taken into their care was stoic and calculating and harsh, but Alexys was still able to see something more in him. She wasn’t entirely sure what that “more” happened to be yet, but she’d already decided that such information wasn’t essential for her to come to a conclusion.

It should have been, though. She should have used her head, listened to the others, taken their advice. She should have seen what they did, followed the thoughts and feelings they exhibited that were rationally guarded and judgmental. This alien tyrant didn’t deserve a second chance, didn’t deserve an opportunity to be rehabilitated, if such a thing was even possible. Something in Alexys desperately wanted to discover that it was, that she would be able to pull it off. She didn’t know the first thing about reforming someone’s bad habits, especially ones that were as nasty as his. Stampeding through the star systems and imposing his will on any and all that stood in his path. All he cared about was the wellbeing of his business—the entity, not the people.

He’d cost the crew members more than they cared to remember, but also what they swore they’d never forget. They couldn’t afford to, because they felt it was necessary to cling to the blame and rage that they’d cultivated towards this man who had become their natural enemy. So much conflict and confusion and pain…he’d instigated all of it, and yet Alexys wanted to keep him like a pet. She wanted to nurture him and help him see the error of his ways. The rest of the crew figured that receiving just punishment would be adequate enough to teach him a lesson, but the girl was insistent on not treating him with violence. To her, yielding to the encouragement of such malicious spite would only end up making them as bad as him.

They had a lot more to deal with upon their return to Earth than just the problems they brought back with them. That was another reason everyone had reluctantly deigned to agree with Alexys, because they didn’t have the energy or the focus to try to argue with her, knowing that in the end they still wouldn’t be able to change her mind. She was firm in her beliefs, and if she really wanted to be the one responsible for babysitting the heathen that’d threatened their lives, then what was the point of trying to stop her?

Well, it was the principle of the thing, really…none of them wanted to be forced to see the face of the man that’d caused them so much grief ever again, who had stolen so much from them, especially in Ethan’s case. Despite the close relationship he and Alexys shared, she wasn’t going to let it alter her conviction. Unfortunately, as a result, it seemed a rift had formed between them. Ethan rightfully felt betrayed, while Alexys felt guilty and confused about whether or not she’d actually done the right thing. She didn’t like knowing she’d hurt her friend, the boy who felt like family to her. He was still family in her eyes, but she wasn’t sure if he saw her that way anymore. As depressing as it was, they’d all lost someone, and if she could move past it and end up helping the culprit improve his ways and atone accordingly, then the extra suffering she was currently enduring would be worth it.

On the other hand, if he truly did end up changing his ways, Alexys wasn’t sure what she’d do. What could she do with someone like him, an alien with a merciless disregard for anything that didn’t suit him or his goals? He’d been somewhat cooperative with her so far, which was a good sign, but there was always a hint of caution in the back of her mind that was ready to pounce the moment something started to go wrong. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to fight or detain him on her own, which was an objective truth due to his strength. She’d seen what he could do with and without a weapon, and she was confident he’d be more than formidable in defending himself against even a group of trained athletes or soldiers. In a way, she supposed he could be seen as a soldier for his own cause. But he was going to have to let it rest, because that ship had sailed for him. Here on Earth, she was going to do whatever it took to impress the reality of his situation upon him.

They were sitting across from one another in the living room, her leaning against the armrest of her chair while he sat tied up in his own. A couple of her friends had made sure to tie him up tightly, and maybe even a little painfully. The alien didn’t mind, and for now neither did Alexys. His comfort wasn’t what was important, but his comprehension, his understanding. If she could get him to see things the way she and the rest of her friends did, maybe she’d have a better shot at convincing him why he needed to change. Whether he thought he’d done anything wrong or not, she was sure he had to have some sense of morals crammed in a dark corner of his subconscious, just waiting to be dusted off and put to good use again…if he’d ever even used them before, that is.

“Are you just going to sit there and stare at me all day?” His tone was thick with the implication that she was the one offending him. With a defiant huff she crossed her arms and settled back in her chair. “If I knew this is what I had to look forward to when I was brought to this bore of a planet, I would have put more effort into my escape.”

A bout of incredulous laughter burst forth from Alexys’s mouth. “Oh please. As if you have the means to try to escape now. How long are you going to keep this pompous leader complex up, anyway? Because I promise no one’s buying it anymore.”

“It’s not an act, it’s simply who I am,” he replied with a sneer, and Alexys shrugged.

“Well, you’re going to have to get over that eventually. Because no matter how much you want to be, that’s not who you are anymore. The people you controlled, the power you had, it’s all gone. Dust in the wind, never coming back. So, if you’re still interested in having some kind of meaningful future, you’ll stop being so arrogant and at least try to listen to what I have to say. What I’ve been saying for the past couple of weeks. I’m honestly getting tired of having to repeat myself.”

“Then you could just give up,” he challenged with a smirk, and Alexys was just a few seconds away from lunging over the table and punching him.

Instead, she stood up and made her way around the table in a much more civil, sensible manner. She leaned in close to his face, examining it for any trace of something salvageable she could work with. It was pretty hard, almost impossible, and the girl was starting to think maybe he was right. So much time and energy wasted on a lost cause, someone whose viewpoint wasn’t going to be influenced or budged no matter what she tried. But she couldn’t give up, not yet, maybe not ever. She’d vowed to make bringing this man back with them worth it, to have something to show after how hard she’d fought to make it happen. It was like they were caught up in an endless game, and somehow, he was playing it better than her without even knowing the rules. She wasn’t going to let him make her give in, though. If she ended up calling off this little arrangement, it would have to be on her terms.

He tried to shuffle away as she approached, but due to his restraints his movement was impaired to the point of immobility. He gritted his teeth in dissatisfaction, trying to overcome the urge to turn and look at her. There was something wrong with him every time he saw her face, something distracting and unpleasant. And the one thing that made it so unpleasant to him was that deep down…it actually wasn’t unpleasant. It wasn’t something he was trying to feel or think or do, but it seemed his mind and emotions had other plans, and they were running wild inside him with reckless abandon. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if such things persisted…he wasn’t sure what he could do about them as they stood now.

What happened next startled them both beyond belief. Without warning or even really meaning to, Alexys reached out and ruffled his hair. Usually smooth and slicked down, she’d done away with any and all remnants of the utilitarian style. Now his hair was sticking up in all directions, naturally fluffy, curly, and voluminous. There were lingering traces of whatever product he’d used on it here and there, but for the most part she’d rubbed it all out. Or at least, she’d given his hair the opportunity to return to its original state as opposed to being forced into boring flatness by his hideous air gel.

“What in the—what are you doing?” he was simultaneously annoyed and astonished, and he also wasn’t sure which reaction was more potent. “Don’t touch me, what were you thinking?”

“I like it.”

That simple phrase shut him up in a heartbeat. He looked at her out of reflex, and the moment his eyes fell upon her face, he swore his heart stopped completely. She was looking at him with such affection, such tenderness…the softest expression he’d ever seen anyone make in the entire universe. No, those unwanted feelings couldn’t be coming back, she couldn’t be doing this to him…but she was. He was helpless to her charm, a charm that she didn’t even know she possessed, and that she probably would have denied if someone tried pointing it out to her. But it was this charm that kept him here, convinced him to be as accommodating as his pride could tolerate. Every time she used it on him, he felt another piece of his resolve being chipped away, making room for the feelings that seemed to never stop expanding deep within him.

“So, Counselor—” The way she said his title made him shiver. His real name was Ug, the name he’d been christened with at birth. He preferred to be known by his official title, Counselor Tetra, head of the recently disbanded TerraCor. A name that had once struck fear and respect into the hearts of anyone who heard it. He didn’t plan on giving into his captors easily, granting them access to information as personal as his true identity, but even his skepticism was getting difficult to cling to. When she said it, or really anything addressing him, all he could think about was how much he wanted her to do it again. “Where do we go from here?”

[shockfemme]

THE MOVIES MADE ME DO IT By Lorry Kikta

Those Richard Linklater Before movies ruined me forever. All this unlikely romance tied up in a handsome Ethan Hawke bow. It led me to believe that all things are never finished. I hold onto so many people, holographic distorted totems of a past that was painful, yet somehow transformed to endearing and wonderful with the glow of nostalgia...

In real life, has anyone ever really objected at the “speak now or forever hold your peace” part of the wedding ceremony? I haven’t even been to a wedding where that sentence was said, maybe to save everyone from an expensive stupid disaster. I have to admit that I have often times wished something like that would happen at a wedding I attended because weddings can sometimes be really damn boring and too long. If you know me and you’re reading this, of course I’m not talking about YOUR wedding.

Ultimately I wish that my stubborn memories would only highlight the negative aspects of certain people so I wouldn’t constantly wonder what this one person I kind of dated in 2004 is doing and whether or not he still “can't stop thinking of me” like he said on the phone six years ago. Or if the guy who got married is now divorced and if he is, what happened? Why do I care? I can only point to one source, a brain that was molded from a very early age by movies and television. I’m not attempting to be the Tipper Gore of the motion picture industry and blame movies for anything. I enjoy believing in fairy tales, until I get reminded continuously that they’re not reality.

Honestly, who cares? I love my boyfriend and we are in a solid relationship, but I have never been in a solid relationship prior to this one. I’ve always fallen in love with musicians that suffer from “emotional problems”. I’ve waited years for overgrown teenagers to come to the conclusion we were meant to be together forever.

It took me a very long time to realize that three types of movies exist for one sole purpose. There could absolutely be more but mostly these three. The teen movie or TV show where everyone is extremely mature and witty and everyone gets together with the unlikely objects of their affections (Pretty in Pink, Gossip Girl, etc. forever). Then there’s the romantic comedy where “the one who got away” returns and it’s all happy ever after (There’s Something About Mary, Reality Bites <Damn it Ethan Hawke>, etc.), or the one where the protagonist falls in love with someone who’s with someone else, and it never fails that this “someone else” is HORRIBLE (Titanic, Wedding Crashers, etc.)  

The sole purpose is (except in rare cases where these people actually lived these fantastic lives, in which case they can go fuck themselves, because really, ugh) the writer of the script regrets the way they handled a situation in their actual life. Well, this is my theory, but I think it’s pretty legit. I had this idea the other day when I started watching The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. I mean, there is a lot of fantasy involved in that show, but what I picked up on is how intelligent and well put together these kids in the show are. There is a part where they’re all seated at Dr. Cerberus’ Bookstore and they’re debating whether or not David Cronenberg’s The Fly is about body dysmorphia or STD’s. I 100% can’t imagine having that conversation at 16. I was too busy trying to be the punkest person on Earth at that time and all I talked about was boys and which musical guest was going to be on Late Night With Conan O’Brien.  Did I just lead a different life than these people, or am I onto something here?

Now, let’s talk about “the one who got away.” I’ve had plenty of ones that got away and it’s probably a damn good thing that they ended up leaving and staying gone, and yet I still harken back to basically any Ethan Hawke movie from the 90’s and think, well, I should see what ole so and so is up to just so I can fulfill my cat-like curiosity and then dwell on it for one-hundred-thousand hours.

When I was growing up, my parents got divorced twice. Well once for real, and then the second time it was a common-law divorce. Additionally, my mom would often take back men she had previously written off because she wanted to give them a second chance. At some point in my teen years, I vowed I would “never” do that because I saw how it never ended up working out for my mom and seemed to be a waste of time.

However, I gave many people who probably didn’t deserve it multiple chances, maybe because it’s true we all turn into our parents, or because I believed that just like in Reality Bites, some Troy Dyer would come stand at the foot of my driveway and tell me he loves me after doing some gloriously fucked up thing that drove me to do something that is the equivalent of running up a huge phone bill with a psychic hotline. I never had the advent of a seemingly perfect Ben Stiller as Michael in my life, until recently.

It’s weird when you go through a certain amount of hoops to get into a relationship with someone. The beginnings of any romantic entanglement are so cinematic and lyrical, but I was never told how to stay in a relationship once you get into one. I grew up where all relationships ended abruptly or seemed alien and weird grown-up things that I didn’t care about. I thought that living with someone and being in love was the end-all-be-all of existence but guess what, that’s dumb. I was over 30 when I figured out this was not the case…. arrested development is not just the name of a band and a TV show, y’all. Relationships take work, and they don’t make problems disappear. They make them easier to deal with, but it’s not all wine and roses. There are some movies that touch on this reality, but not enough.

Instead of telling us how to stay in a long-term relationship, movies often teach us that if our partner has some quality that doesn’t live up to our expectations, some perfect hero is going to appear out of nowhere to rescue us from the bad choice we made. Hello, Billy Zane in Titanic!

The thing is, that in reality, Rose would’ve concocted this entire fantasy of Jack in her head, while staying right by Cal Hockley’s side and trying to remember how awesome it is to have a rich, handsome fiancé, even though he’s an asshole. Jack would have lived because he would’ve found the floating door. Rose and Cal would’ve got on the first lifeboats and they all would’ve lived miserably ever after. This story doesn’t win Academy Awards however. Also to touch on Wedding Crashers, in what world except for the fictional one set before us in this film would Owen Wilson get the girl over Bradley Cooper? Anyway….

Basically, movies are not typically touchstones on how to live your life, which I wish I could’ve figured out before I had so many failed relationships. There are some that are incredibly inspiring and have great messages, but more often than not, they’re fantasy scenarios that people wrote because that’s what they wish they could’ve done. If my theory is correct, I guess I have plenty of my own extremely unrealistic screenplays to write, so I’m going to go ahead and get to it.

[waveridden]

FIC: we once swore we could defeat this

Five conversations about what it means to be married to Ethan Hunt.

Mission: Impossible, 3.8k. Julia/Ethan, Julia/Patrick, Julia & Luther. Light spoilers for Fallout. Written for the prompt “marriage” on my Trope Bingo card.

read on ao3 || title lyric || trope bingo

1.

Julia manages not to say anything the first three times it happens. Ethan told her everything, after Shanghai, and that bought him some goodwill. More than he’s ever going to know, really. Oh, she handled the secret agent thing as gracefully as she could, as gracefully as anyone could, but it’s still impossible to wrap her head around the depth of it all. Especially when she has nobody to talk to about it.

And Ethan swore he would be honest with her from there on out, explained that he was still training agents with his agency but would leave, if she wanted to. She hasn’t decided if she wants to yet, two months down the line, but she thinks they should wait until after the public wedding. She still hasn’t told her parents about the elopement; they might be more upset about that than they would about her husband being a secret operative.

She’d trusted him to be honest, up until the time he came home concussed. He’d staggered in and said “one of the trainees got the jump,” and she’d sighed and sat with him and didn’t let him fall asleep all night long. The second time it’d been two broken fingers, the last two on his left hand, that a trainee had snapped while sparring. The third time she wasn’t sure what it was, other than mottled bruises on his ribs that looked far too fresh for whatever excuse he’d come up with. And she didn’t say anything, because she needed something to be normal. She’d already become the nurse who was kidnapped at work and the one who got shotgun married in the basement, she didn’t need to be the one who controlled her husband’s life.

And then:

“Are you stitching up your arm in our kitchen,” Julia says, with much, much more calm than she expected. She sounds to her own ears like she’s caught between horror and rage, and for a second she entertains the idea of shouting about it being unsanitary, like that’s the biggest problem at hand here. It’d probably be easier than finding the words for what she’s actually feeling.

Ethan, who looks like a deer caught in headlights, pauses with the needle inside his arm. “Is there a right answer to this question?”

Julia takes a deep, calming breath through her nose, and then exhales through her mouth, and then drops her work bag on the ground. “Let me.”

“Jules-”

“Ethan,” she says sharply, and he must understand that she’s not giving this one up without a fight. He pulls the needle back and she goes to him and takes it. “I’m assuming you got some kind of field training.”

“Yes,” he breathes. She can feel him staring at her and doesn’t bother telling him to stop, even though something about it is overwhelming.

She looks carefully at the stitches he’s already made. They’re tight, if a little haphazard. Not bad. “Did you clean the wound?”

“Ye-”

“And not with a bottle of vodka.”

Ethan sighs through his nose. “That’s only in the movies.” He says it like it’s halfway a joke, like he’s not sure if she’s going to laugh at the punchline. Maybe he can tell that she’s not particularly in the mood to laugh.

“That’s not a yes,” she answers tightly, and Ethan uses his free hand to gesture at something behind him. It looks like an open bottle of water, and a paper towel. “They teach you to do stitches but not to clean and dress a wound?”

“I didn’t have time.”

He’s still watching her. She tries to keep her face under control, just barely manages it. “But you had time to come back here.”

“I was-”

“Don’t say you were training agents.” She doesn’t look up, just starts stitching the wound. Tiny, neat, just like work. Just another patient. “This isn’t the kind of thing you get when you’re training.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because when you were actually training agents a few months ago, you never came home like this.”

Ethan breathes out carefully. “I’m not leaving the country.”

“Oh, you’re not leaving the country,” Julia mutters. Maybe it’s cruel to echo him, but it gets him to stop talking until she finishes stitching up the cut. She cuts the thread and steels herself and looks at him. Ethan’s giving her this look like he’s not quite chastised but he’s ready to be. Like he’s ready for her to yell at him. “We said no more secrets.”

“We did.”

“Are you still training agents?”

“I’m supervising agents on minor local missions.”

“So you’re in the field.”

“Yes and no. I’m their support if they need it, I’m safe the whole time.”

“Ethan,” Julia says, and her voice cracks, which would be absolutely horrifying if Ethan’s composure didn’t crack along with it. All the guilt seems to catch up with him at once, and he lifts his hands to her shoulders, settles for gripping her forearms. “Ethan, you told me you’d be honest.”

“I wasn’t expecting it to make any difference,” he admits, and lowers his forehead against hers. “I didn’t know I’d be getting hurt.”

“But you still changed things.”

“I know.” One hand wanders up to cup her face, cradling her jaw; it’d be sweet if she couldn’t feel one finger pressing against a scar behind her ear that she got somewhere in Shanghai. “I’m sorry.”

“Just tell me.”

“I will.”

“And I’m a nurse, it’s my job to fix people up when they get hurt.” She brushes her fingertips across the cut, carefully stitched shut, his work and hers side by side. “Come to me next time.”

“I don’t want you involved in this,” he says, like a confession. Like some deep, guilty secret.

Julia nearly bites her lip. “I know,” she says, and doesn’t remind him that she is already involved.

  2.

Luther is the last person she goes out with before they leave Virginia. Not her coworkers, not her siblings, but good old Luther. She likes him, not because he’s kind to her but because the first thing he did was say he was worried about her being involved.

(“I can keep myself safe,” she said, still bruised from Shanghai, and he’d lifted an eyebrow, and she’d tilted her chin up at him, like if she looked up long enough he’d forget that she was new at this.

“I’m more worried you’re gonna try and keep Ethan safe,” he’d answered, and that was the most honest anyone had been with her, and she still appreciates that, even now.)

“I’ve never traveled much,” she admits, swirling her spoon in a bowl of soup. She’s not particularly hungry, but Luther had offered to treat her to lunch, and she’d almost jumped at the chance to say goodbye. “Does Ethan speak Swiss German?”

Luther snorts. “Ethan speaks a lot of languages,” he says, which is the kind of thing Julia should know about her husband. “Do you?”

“I’ve been trying to learn the basics, but the hospital I’ll be at has a lot of English-speaking staff.”

“Zurich is a beautiful city.”

Julia shakes her head. “D.C. is a beautiful city,” she answers, quieter than she’d like to.

There are reasons for them to move to Switzerland. Ethan is retired, but it’s dangerous for him to stay stagnant for too long, and by extension it’s dangerous for Julia. She’s taken self defense classes and gotten better at dodging people who might want to abduct her, at snapping photos of them and sending them off to Ethan and Benji just in case something goes wrong. It still happens, maybe half a dozen times in the past year. Someone stuffed her in a car trunk once and she got out within a few minutes of waking up. Luther had told her she did a good job, afterwards; Ethan had only clung to her like he thought she was going to turn into smoke in his arms.

So they found the jobs, far enough away that they could be safe, and far enough away that they wouldn’t have to keep their heads down constantly. Ethan is doing some kind of security consulting for a Swiss bank, Julia is working at a major hospital, and she’s been learning basic French and German in her spare time. She’s going to have to teach Ethan to teach her Swiss German, now that she knows he can.

“You don’t have to leave,” Luther says quietly. The rest of it goes unspoken: it’s safer if they do, it’s better if Ethan doesn’t have to worry about her as much and vice versa, they’ve already committed to the move. But they don’t have to go.

Julia sets her spoon down. “I’ve lived here most of my life. It’s time for me to do something different.”

Luther waits her out, like he knows there’s something she’s not saying. He’s patient like that. Julia hates it, sometimes, the way that being around secret agents suddenly means she can’t keep secrets anymore.

“And this is what it’s going to take to make this work.” She suddenly can’t meet his eyes anymore, so she drops her gaze to his hands, folded on the table between them. “Going to Zurich, the opportunity of a lifetime that I didn’t even know I wanted, it’s all just for the sake of this marriage.”

“And you’re willing to make the move to save the marriage?”

“Yes,” Julia answers, without hesitation. If this is what it means to be married to Ethan then she’ll make it work. She’s sure of it.

Luther reaches out and takes one of her hands, thumb stroking against the back of her hand. She squeezes his palm and looks up at him, and he smiles at her, gentle as she’s ever seen him. “Then it’s the right choice. Zurich will be lucky to have you.”

“I’m going to miss you a lot,” she answers, because it’s the only thing she can think.

“That’s why they have cell phones,” Luther answers, a laugh rumbling low in his chest, but he doesn’t let go of her hand.

  3.

Ethan says, “I think we should leave.”

They made it almost two years in Zurich. Ethan took to it like a fish takes to water, which Julia was painfully, pettily envious of until she remembered that it was his job for well over a decade to look like he belonged anywhere. And besides, the envy only lasted for the first month or so, up until Ethan admitted that he could never quite remember how to get to the grocery store without his GPS.

She was the one who put down roots, the one who went out for coffee with their neighbors and decorated their apartment. She learned to cook local food. She joined a bridge club at the hospital, not because she cared about bridge but because it seemed like an awful lot of her coworkers did. She learned Swiss German from Ethan and her coworkers, and within a year she wasn’t quite fluent but she wasn’t fumbling anymore. She saved lives at the hospital, made friends, called Luther once a week and her mother twice a month. She made it work. No, not that; she made it hers.

Ethan seemed happy enough, although she could always tell that the new job wasn’t enough for him, not the way the IMF was. She saw the way he twitched whenever news broke. An explosion, uncannily close to the Taj Mahal; an outbreak of a new flu strain in Argentina; a terrorist attack in Geneva, far too close to home, that left him strained and tense for weeks.

Julia was held hostage three times in Zurich. People kidnapped her twice because of Ethan, just random revenge plots that ended within a day. And there was an attack on her hospital, where she and a handful of the other doctors were held hostage. She can’t say if it was because of her or if it was just because of the hospital. She supposes it doesn’t matter either way.

She was the only one who keeps her cool completely, maybe because she knew Ethan was calling in every IMF favor that he was owed, maybe because it had already happened to her a dozen times over. All she knows is that she got through it and got home and Ethan clung to her like always, and now he’s talking about leaving.

Julia wants to say: this is my home, this is my life, this is not your fault. Julia wants to say: you thought we should leave Virginia and it didn’t stop there, so why shouldn’t we stay? Julia wants to say: you gave up being an agent for me, and I know that was the other love of your life, and it’s selfish of me not to want to do the same for you, but I don’t, Ethan, I want to stay.

Julia says: “Okay.”

  4.

She doesn’t bother putting down roots again, not the same way she did in Zurich. They last four months in Taipei before Julia is taken off the street. They manage another two months in Belize before one day Ethan doesn’t come home from work and Julia has to call Luther in a panic to find him. They make it nine months in Morocco before Ethan insists they move and won’t even tell her why, so they go to Croatia, and barely make it three months before Julia is kidnapped. Ethan gets her back quietly, without any fuss, and takes her to a safehouse.

Ethan is talking about something. She doesn’t know what. She hasn’t taken her eyes off his face since he sat her down on the couch and bandaged up the single cut on her arm; he’s gotten faster about getting her back, and she’s gotten better at talking in order to avoid actual danger. He’s gripping her hand and he says something about - god, who knows, about where they’re going next or how she can stop this from happening again. Like either of them can stop it.

“This is going to keep happening,” she says, and Ethan stops, blinks at her. “Right?”

He takes a deep breath and cups her face with one hand, and she leans into it, like if she presses enough of herself into him somehow that’ll make it less true. “Yes,” he answers, his breath gentle on her face. “It will.”

“And we’ll have to keep moving.”

“To stay safe.”

“To stay hidden,” she says, sharper than she intends, and Ethan closes his eyes. “To be on the run, constantly, to keep - I don’t even know, to keep quiet until someone figures out who we are?”

His thumb sweeps under her eye. “I don’t know what else to do,” he admits, and his voice cracks, and she realizes that his thumb wiped away a tear. Another one trickles down her cheek, and he wipes it away, still without looking at her. “As long as you’re with me, you’re a target.”

It’s a conversation they’ve had before. She’d always said, every other time, that it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. That maybe she’d be a target without him. That at least this way they were together. But Julia misses Zurich, with a hollow ache she feels whenever she thinks about the way the sunlight hit their apartment. She misses Virginia. She misses Morocco, and her mother, and she selfishly, selfishly misses the days when she thought Ethan analyzed traffic patterns for VDOT.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she says, and she wants to be angry. She wants to be sad. But suddenly the truth of it is all she knows, the certainty thrumming through her veins. She can’t keep doing this. She can’t keep living like this.

Ethan meets her eyes, not quite crying, but she can see the tears gathered. “I know,” he says, and she wonders how long he has seen this conversation coming. “Jules, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She shakes her head, and she knows she’s crying now and she can’t stop it, even with Ethan’s palm pressed again her cheek. “I love you,” she says, “baby, I love you more than anything, but I can’t do this.”

“C’mere,” Ethan says, and next thing she knows he’s gathering her into his arms. “You don’t have to, Jules, you never had to. You never had to.”

And Julia presses her face into his neck and lets herself cry, because maybe she never had to, but now for the first time she doesn’t want to.

  5.

This is how Julia gets engaged the second time:

Patrick is about to start a twelve hour shift. Julia has just finished one. He brought her coffee without her asking, and a chocolate bar because he felt like it. She takes the coffee and the chocolate and says, quietly, “Marry me.”

“You’ve always been a romantic,” Patrick says, and it’s as good as a yes.

She wishes, sometimes, that he wouldn’t say things like “always been.” She loves him, knows it with the certainty that she knows that she has made the right choices after leaving Ethan. She laid low in Europe for a while before getting back stateside: Seattle, Boston, New York, and now Houston. She met Patrick at a conference in California and knew, right away, from the first date, that they had something.

(She’d sent Luther his name and picture that night, just to make sure he wasn’t an agent or a threat. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until he’d sent back the all-clear.)

Patrick knows that she was married, because she felt like she owed that honesty to him. She called it irreconcilable differences, and then spent some time making sure that the divorce paperwork had gone through. The IMF had taken care of that, at some point, and so it was of course impeccable. It was a clean break. She never had to worry about it.

She writes Ethan letters, and she’s gotten good at figuring out codes. A well-placed classified ad in a newspaper here, a letter sent to an unmarked PO box there. Dear Ethan, I’m still alive. Dear Ethan, Italy is beautiful in the summer. Dear Ethan, rosti doesn’t taste the same when I’m not in Zurich or not with you, but we left that behind years ago, didn’t we?

“Do you want a destination wedding?” Patrick asks, while they’re hiking a trail in Idaho together on a much-needed vacation. “I mean, we could probably afford it, but that seems like the kind of thing we should discuss early on.”

Julia laughs. “You think two months before the wedding, I’m going to say, ‘Oh, by the way-’”

Patrick clears his throat and tosses his hair back, the way he always does before he starts impersonating her like she’s a cartoon. “Ricky, darling,” he coos, “I just think it would be charming- ”

“Oh, charming,” Julia says, and Patrick’s smile stretches a little wider.

“Charming to get married in Barthelooooona.”

“Barcelona,” she corrects him absently, and he laughs, stumbles on a rock and lets her catch his arm. She doesn’t let go of his elbow. “No, I think we can save the travel for the honeymoon. I’m not one for big weddings.”

Patrick tilts his head and looks at her. She can feel the question coming just before she asks it, and she only barely manages to turn and look at him before he says, “What was it like last time?”

Julia has never mentioned Ethan by name. Never even mentioned what he used to do, cover story or otherwise. She loves Ethan, she loves the ten seconds a year that she gets to glimpse him across a crowded room, but that’s no way to live. Not even for the sake of someone she loves.

Patrick is still looking at her hesitantly, so she takes a deep breath. “There are two answers to that.”

“Two?” Patrick gasps and clutches at his chest dramatically with one hand. “How many more secrets are you keeping?”

Julia drops her hand from his elbow to thread her fingers through his, bumping elbows with him. “More than you can count, mister.”

Patrick chuckles. “Okay, tell me about your two weddings.”

“Well, the big one that my mom still has pictures of-” that’s a problem for Ethan’s anonymity, now that she thinks of it, and she’d better hope that he never thinks to ask about it- “wasn’t actually that big. We had the ceremony at a church and the reception in our backyard. Mostly friends and family.”

“Not a big wedding.”

“Not at all.”

“What was the second one?”

“We were about halfway between the proposal and the planned wedding date.” She pauses, flipping back in her mental calendar, and looks down at her feet, swinging their joined hands back and forth. “Less than halfway, actually. And he had a business trip come up, so he visited me at work and said we should get married, then and there. So we found a priest and had a ceremony in the basement, then and there.”

“Wow,” Patrick says quietly. She looks up at him, and he’s giving her an inscrutable look, like he’s picking her apart. Like he’s trying to understand. “You loved him a lot.”

“I did,” Julia says. It doesn’t hurt, the way it used to.

“Do you still?”

“I always will, I think.”

“Should I worry?” he says, like it’s a joke when she’s sure it’s not.

“No,” Julia answers, and Patrick looks away. “We separated for… good reasons. I don’t bear him any ill will or anything like that. We just couldn’t make it work anymore.”

“Couldn’t make it work anymore,” Patrick repeats. “Do you see him?”

“Almost never. He moves around a lot for work.”

Patrick nods, absorbing that, and they walk in silence for another couple minutes. Julia lets her mind wander to the save-the-date cards they have picked out, to the one with Ethan’s name on it. Maybe she should send it to Luther instead. It seems a little cruel to send it to Ethan, even if they’ve supposedly moved on by now, but she wouldn’t mind actually having Luther there. Lord knows he’d given her enough tips about going to ground, especially for those first few months she was on her own. The least she could do is show him she’s doing okay.

“You know,” Patrick says at last, and she glances up at him, “we could also get married in a hospital basement.”

Julia laughs. “I think once was enough for me.”

“Hospital rooftop,” Patrick says without missing a beat, and she can’t help the way she laughs again. It’s her favorite thing about him. He makes her feel like she just can’t help herself. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Julia says, and thankfully, blessedly, she knows she means it.

[stunudo]

BAU Prep School AU: 2018

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country. (image link)

2016- 2017   Class of 2018

Messy

September 29, 2017 11:17pm

           Luke Alvez hadn’t expected this, despite his explicit instructions to his team to do so in the case of an emergency. And yet he found his phone ringing in the late-night weekend hours from an unsaved Virginian number.

“Hello?”

“Is this Luke Alvez?”

“It is, and you are?”

“My name is Frank Broadhead and I am—”

“The principal for the International School.”

“Why, yes, actually.”

“With all due respect, sir, but why are you calling me so late?”

“Well, you see, Mr. Alvez. Or Coach? Do you prefer Coach?”

“Semantics, please continue.”

“Right, well. Phil and I just so happened to find a few of your students breaking into our football stadium tonight. Now I wanted to call Aaron Hotchner myself, but young Mr. Malcolm has convinced us that you were the right call. Are you?”

“Sorry?”

“Are you the right call?”

Luke stared at the ceiling of his apartment and whispered a few choice curses beneath his breath.

“Are you pressing charges?”

“Now, Coach, we were very lucky to have apprehended the intruders prior to any hijinks. But, either you or another faculty member come and collect the lot of them or I am calling the police, followed by their parents.”

Luke could hear various protests in the background, this was not the way he wanted to spend his weekend. He also didn’t have a large enough vehicle to cart around multiple teenagers. “Besides Trevor Malcolm, who and how many are there?”

Luke grabbed his keys and double checked his back gate as he continued with the phone call.

“Well, I have a very aggressive young lady by the name of May Howard, a more demur girl named Azalene Curtis, a disrespectful punk who refuses to tell me his name and Mr. Malcolm.”

“Alright, Broadhead, tell Brooks to sit tight and I will be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Mr. Alvez.”

Luke hit the end call button and sighed. It was late enough that the bugs and occasional cars passing by were the only noises on his street. He stared at his list of contacts for a solid minute before making the call, which finally connected on the fourth ring.

“Man, you better not be drunk dialing me.” Morgan’s voice was amused.

“Sorry, Derek, but duty calls.”

An hour later, HM Hotchner, Coach Morgan and Coach Alvez all stepped out of the large black Suburban. The rival school was cast in near darkness, besides a few lights in a first-floor wing. Luke led the way, Hotch and Derek shared a glance at his familiarity with the campus. When they reached the door, Luke was texting on his phone.

“K, should be just a sec for them to let us in.”

“Anybody know about this?” Hotch looked at his two current sports’ coaches with concern.

“Honestly, Hotch, I had no idea. I gave the guys my number in case they needed a sober driver, I wasn’t exactly expecting a full bail out.” Luke admitted, scratching the back of his neck. Aaron nodded, he was grateful to have Alvez on his team.

“My whole focus has been putting in the work to stick it their football team come playoffs, Hotch.” Derek held up his hands as they were empty of precursors to the crime. “If I had heard Howard and company would be trespassing I would have nipped that in the bud.” Derek’s eyes lit up as someone opened the secure door wide.

A tall African American guy gave them an annoyed appraisal, “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Brooks.” Luke sighed. “This is my boss, Aaron Hotchner,” he paused as the shook hands. “And I’m guessing you’ve met Coach Morgan?”

“Brooks. Sorry about this.” Derek patted the man on the back as he led the way through the dimmed hallways.

“That bulldozer on your line?” Brooks started. “She’s a pistol.”

“Are the students alright?” Hotch interjected.

“Yeah, the guys may have been on something, but they lost their buzz fairly quickly.”

Luke and Derek both groaned, Coach Phil Brooks led the way to the principal’s office as they passed through a waiting room. In a row, spanning the spectrum of fear to boredom sat four Submariners. Lena Curtis, May Howard, Trevor Malcolm and one Iggy Cruz. When their teachers and headmaster stepped into the room, they erupted into a slew of explanations.

“Sir, we didn’t even—” Trevor started.

“Coach, I am so sor—” May’s voice hitched as her favorite teacher looked at her with complete disappointment.

“Are you going to call my dad?” Lena squeaked, she had been crying.

“Enough!” Hotch raised his voice and the room quieted. “Submariners on your feet.” Even the coaches beside him straightened up at the direct order. Iggy was the last one to stand, letting a huff fall from his lips. “You will wait here with Mr. Morgan and Mr. Alvez. I am going to sort this out with Principal Broadhead, then we will discuss the consequences of your actions.”

October 2, 2017 12:58pm

Ms. Prentiss’s phone buzzed against her desk, but it didn’t register as she was reading going over the final act of The Crucible with her Sophomore class.

“Now Miller wrote this during the Red Scare, what parallels can you draw from the play and those events?” She looked out into the faces of some very bored and mildly confused teenagers. Her phone buzzed again, more obvious now in the silence left by the unanswering class. “Okay, let’s try this again. Red Scare? Anyone take post World War Two history, yet?”

Five hands were raised around the room, she sighed and nodded. Then Zachary Henkel’s hand shot up as if he was electrocuted.

“Yes, Mr. Henkel? What can you tell us about the Red Scare?”

“Nothing, actually, but Ms. Garcia is waving frantically and knocking at the door.”

The English teacher’s brow knit as realization sunk in.

“It’s time?” She asked the excitable guidance counselor.

“It’s definitely time. I don’t want to into details. But, hospital, go, you now.” Emily Prentiss gave a wilted glance back to the waiting class. “Go, Emily, I’ve got them.”

“Communism and Arthur Miller. You, go.”

1:14pm

The Kirsch Memorial Hospital felt like a maze, despite the now weekly appointments JJ had been having within. Emily soon found the birthing wing and signed in at the desk.

“Your partner is in room 13C. Breathe, Mama, you got this.” The beaming nurse said to Emily, who must have looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Right, thanks.” Emily gave a half smile and pinned her security tag on her blouse. The rooms were set up like hotel suites: very comfortable and spaced in pairs down a soothing hallway.

“Oh thank God!” JJ exclaimed as she saw Emily’s black hair peek through the double wide door.

“Or just Penelope, hey you.” Emily grabbed JJ’s hand. “Sorry I didn’t answer right away, I though it was an email notification.”

“You really need to stop being so professional.” JJ’s laughed cut short as a contraction started.

“Where are we at?” Emily watched the monitors they had on her girl and her bulging belly.

“Six minutes apart, but only dilated to 4,” JJ grunted. Emily rubbed JJ’s back with her free hand, as the pain eased so did JJ’s grip on the bed rail and Emily’s left hand.

“Good job, its like you’re ready to have a baby today.” Dr. Savannah Hayes smiled at the couple as she entered the room on her rounds. Emily watched JJ with immense pride as JJ sighed at her OBGYN.

“Ya think?”

Oct. 8 3:40pm

Matt Simmons had wrapped up his Sociology class early, telling the kids to enjoy the fresh air before a set of storms was due in for the weekend. Between his amazing stories, his looks and his more relaxed teaching style he had quickly won the hearts of the student body. He regularly received assignments early and was asked more than once if he was single, for their mothers or aunts. He politely declined the offers. Today he made his way down to the sound booth at the back of the Rothschild Auditorium to help set up for the coming musical. Rehearsals varied by day of the week as Lucas Turner was a lead this year and had recruited a few other football players for backstage work as well. The actors wouldn’t be in until 5:30pm. Matt found Alex Blake already playing with the levels as the set crew started showing up after the final bell. She held her chin in her palm, scrutinizing the coloring below.

“How’s it going?” He leaned against the door frame, his large arms folded across his chest. Alex jumped at his appearance, holding her chest. He tried to bite back his amusement, but her rueful smile told him it wasn’t going to be met with a scolding.

“Matthew! Damnit, I thought reporters liked an intro before they make an appearance.”

“Getting hard of hearing in your old age, Doc? Better keep up.”

“I am as quick as ever, thank you very much,” Alex tilted her head.

“Yeah, I bet,” He smiled at her confidence. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. What’s up with the ‘Ms.’ Did you decide to forget your PhD?”

Alex sighed, spinning to face him and away from the control desk. He had leaned back in another chair, all young and firm and handsome. “When Dave and I split, I wanted a fresh start, so I left the Doctor title behind as it was always paired with Rossi.”

“I was sorry to hear about that, and Ethan of course.”

“Thanks.” She closed her eyes at the mention of her late son. “So, what exactly brings you to teaching? It’s not exactly high adrenaline, which I recall you always chased.”

“Hannah had a rough go of it last year and I, well, I needed a change of scenery.” Matt flinched but didn’t go into greater detail.

“Did your sister ask you to keep an eye on Hannah?” Alex’s voice was low and soothing.

“Are you kidding? She barely talks about Hannah, no, Hannah and I have been close since she was little. I figured there was going to be at least a temporary opening and I reached out to Hotch.”

“JJ probably loved that.” Alex smiled, turning back to the stage.

“Yeah, well, she has her hands full now.”

“True. You sure you want to give up your nights to help run sound?” Alex teased.

“I like to be useful, plus, something tells me the Director can keep me in line.”

She gave him a look before rolling her eyes at him, “Welcome to life in the Theatre, Mr. Simmons.”

6:08pm

Jake wasn’t certain his feelings meant anything in the grand scheme of things and that thought alone made him panic. But the gnawing in his gut was getting worse with each passing day. There was something about being in the wings, the dust and ancient currents were like layers of reality, secluding and enclosing them. Michel was going over their lines and Jake was trying not to stare or break their concentration.

Michel was had contoured today and felt drastically more confident now that the itchy school blazer had been discarded. They had their sleeves rolled up to their elbows and left the top buttons open, despite the draftiness of the theatre. Now if they could just get their lines down they would earn their bad ass title for another week. After rehearsal they had a late dinner with their parents, who were briefly stateside and probably another hour of homework. So much for senior year slacking.

Jake was going to lose his nerve, but the romantic leads were going over their first scene and it felt like they would be called on for their entrances at any moment. Michel had turned to him now, “Can you read Jackson’s lines I just need to stop using the script as a crutch already.”

“Sure. But, you could always ask him to run lines.” Jake didn’t mean to sound snarky, but his self-consciousness came off as annoyance.

“Jake, you are literally doing nothing right now. Come on,” Michel huffed. Jake stood up straight and accepted Michel’s script from their out stretched hand. He leaned over the folded booklet and waited for Michel to start, their character was Bellomy, the leading lady’s father and they adjusted their stance as they got into character. Jake was transfixed, clearly, he understood acting, but watching Michel do it was like watching water boil or leaves change color. A natural transformation resulting in something completely different than who was there before.

“Oh lady le di le da loo…”

“Oh, lady le di le da loo…” Jake sounded it out choppily. Michel grabbed him tightly as the characters would greet each other in the show

“Hucklee!”

           “Bellomy!”

“Neighbor!”

           “Friend!”

Jake hadn’t let go of Michel, though a wall was meant to be separating the men on stage. He dropped the script and turned to his longtime friend and crush.

“How’s the gout?”

“What?” Jake looked down at Michel mystified.

“That’s the line, Jake. What’s wrong?” But before Jake could answer or Michel could stop him, his lips were on Michel’s.

Oct. 10 6:54pm

“Now ladies and gentlemen, will you please rise for the singing of our National Anthem?” The announcer’s voice boomed over the stadium filled to capacity with Homecoming crowds. The F.B.I. Scarlet Submariners were on the East side of their home field as their opponents the gold and black Kingsford Knights were on the West side. The sun had set fifteen minutes prior, letting the overhead lights illuminate the turf for miles around.

Mr. Walker raised his arms and the Pep band began the familiar bars, as Sacha Kane began to sing. The song wrapped up with thunderous applause and the coin toss followed. The teams stood lining the field as the captains returned. Sitting and stewing in their jerseys without their pads were the benched senior Ignacio Cruz and sophomore May Howard. The defense took the field and Lucas Turner sighed as his right side felt empty with an unreliable substitute. Coach Morgan had made the call, which Headmaster Hotchner backed fully. Coach Alvez had given Trevor a comparable two-game ban and a parent-approved drug test as punishment for the theatrics at the end of September.

“It had to be Homecoming,” Derek thought to himself as his back up kicker botched a punt, leaving the rival team on the Unsubs’ thirty-yard line. They went into the locker room down by six at half time. Thunder rolled in the distance. As well-spoken as Coach Morgan was, he didn’t need to say anything, the team knew they had to step it up. He let them breathe before offering a few shuffles to the lines.

“Unsubs! Whose house is this?!” Coach Morgan bellowed to the cement lined room.

“Our House!” They barked back.

“Whose house is this?!”

“Our HOUSE!” A deep booming response this time.

“Search and destroy, guys! SEARCH AND DESTROY!” The sweaty and pumped up bodies of forty teenagers jogged back on to the field to the enthusiasm of their stands. They went on to win by eleven, just as the cascade of rain flooded the stadium. After everyone had showered, Coach Morgan called Cruz and Howard over to discuss their reinstatements for the following week’s away game.

“You two care about your school, but there are better ways to defend it. Use your God-given talents to help your team, or you never were an Unsub. Behavior, Analysis, Unity. Earn it.”

Oct. 11 5:24pm

Chloe’s phone went off as she helped set the table for dinner. Her gaggle of siblings were either taking up space in the kitchen, trying to snag a taste early or lounging in the adjoining living room. All of her friends were off to take group pictures before heading to dinner at some posh restaurant or another. What a difference a year makes, the memories of last year’s dance clouding her thoughts.

She glanced down at the caller id before answering. “Lucas?”

“Hey, Chloe, listen, are you busy tonight?” He seemed quiet, like he was secluded.

“Helping with dinner right now, why?” She propped the phone against her shoulder as she began dishing out the salad.

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Homecoming. With me. Like a date?”

She had not seen this coming, but that was probably because she had avoided romantic entanglements like the plague they had proven to be.

“Lucas…” She let her voice hang in the air. “I don’t have a dress, this is really last minute.”

“Wear anything, you can go in jeans. I just, I just want to dance with you Chloe, I swear.” He sounded sweet, not desperate and demanding. But nervous and sheepish.

“Lucas, you can dance with anyone there, you’re classically trained.” His nerves seemed to be infectious.

“They’re not you, Chloe. Please think about it? Call me back when you’re done with dinner. I won’t be hurt if you say no, but just think about it.” Lucas waited for twelve seconds before she replied.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thanks. Talk to you later!”

“Later.” Chloe ended the call and turned back to find her entire family had sat down to eat around her.

“Who was that?” Her mother Anita asked suspiciously.

“Lucas, Lucas Turner.”

“Well, what did the boy want?” her mother sat down and patted Chloe’s seat beside her.

“He asked me to go to the Dance tonight.”

A mix of ‘ooohs’ and teasing burst from her siblings, her cheeks flushed and she ducked her head as she fell into her usual spot.

“Do you want to go, doll?” Her father asked as he started cutting into his steak. She shrugged and then nodded.

“He’s a good guy, then, not going to get fresh?” Chloe smiled at her mom’s concern.

“He’s a sweetheart. He was there for me when I broke up with Brayden in the first place.” The name drew a stunned silence among the Roycewood family. It had gone unspoken for so long.

“Alright then, it’s settled. Aimee, you’re to help your sister get ready right after dinner. You hear?”

“Sweet! Of course, Mama.” Chloe’s thirteen-year-old sister replied, the excitement of dresses and make up turning her weekend magical.

“Thanks, you guys.” Chloe tried to bite back a smile, but her cheeks were determined to stay up.

“Anything to keep that smile on your face, doll.” Her dad nodded.

Next Chapter: The Show(down)

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