#but uh i guess my dog's passing is something i gotta deal on my own entirely. my mom seems pretty much over it without really taking me int

[eeunwoo]

.

[smells-like-mettaton]

soriel, 1 (chocolate) for the ask game?

Like a Box of Chocolates

Rating: G Word Count: 2734 Read on AO3: here

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"Ok. I brought a few choices," Sans said while sitting with his back to the door. He pulled a plastic sack full of chocolate and chocolate-adjacent treats out from under his shirt.

"Oh, you did not have to do that." The voice behind the door sounded embarrassed.

"It's no big deal." He shrugged instinctively, though she wouldn't be able to see it. "Not like I candy things like this for you very often."

The lady laughed, even though the pun was a stretch. She was a great audience like that.

"I cannot argue with that. After all, it is the choco-thought that counts."

Sans let out a wheeze. Man, she had him beat in the bad jokes department. He needed to up his game.

"What can I say, I'm a sweet guy." That joke would work better if she could see his wink.

"You certainly are, my friend."

Sans blinked. He hadn't been prepared for the genuine warmth in her voice. Now he felt something like a melted chocolate himself.

"Uh. You'd better wait and make sure I didn't pick out garbage before you say that." He chuckled nervously and spread out the chocolates in the snow.

"Alright. Hit me with your best choco-shot."

He laughed out loud at that one too. She could really squeeze some mileage out of chocolate puns.

"First off we have the MTT-Brand Chocolate Mettaton. Which is exactly what it sounds like. Chocolate in the shape of everyone's favorite robot superstar." He scanned the back of the wrapper. "Contains sequins and glitter, but it's still monster food, so probably won't cause any more indigestion than Temmie Flakes. Still, wouldn't blame ya if you passed on that."

The lady laughed. "I do not know this 'Mettaton,' but he sounds like someone…"

Her voice trailed off, the way it always did when she neared a personal topic. It seemed to be happening more and more often lately. Sans didn't know if that was a good sign, or if he needed to do a better job of distracting her.

"Someone I know would have liked that," she finished clumsily.

"Welp. It's yours, then." He attempted to slide it under the door.

Attempted. The thick block of chocolate wouldn't fit through the narrow space.

"What are my other options?" The lady asked, not seeming to hear his failure.

(Or just ignoring it. The way they always ignored things they didn't want to acknowledge.)

Oh well. He'd deal with that later, if she wanted to.

He picked up the next box and rattled it. It looked thin enough to fit under the door.

"I think this one's called, uh, pocket?” He couldn’t tell for sure, since the box was labeled in a language he didn’t recognize. Where did Alphys get this stuff? “A pal gave it to me. They’re like chocolate-covered sticks, I think."

"Not precisely what I was looking for, but I would love to try it regardless," she said. "If I am allowed to have both options, I mean. If not, I should probably stick with the Em-Tee-Tee."

Sans bit back a snort. So she hadn't heard after all. That made this a lot more awkward.

"Do you wanna hear the other options first? Wouldn't want ya to have any regrets."

"Oh! There are more?"

She sounded as surprised as a kid finding an extra fry in the bottom of their Grillby's bag. He couldn't help grinning.

"Yup. Next up is a chocolate spider donut—”

“Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders?” The voice seemed on the verge of laughter again.

His eyesockets widened. “Uh… welp. Guess you don’t need the whole spiel, huh?”

“There is a spider bakesale right around the corner from my home,” the lady explained. “I believe they are saving for a… ‘heated limo’? To travel safely through Snowdin. I wish I could help them, but I did not think to take much gold when I…”

Another dead end. That was fine, Sans could piece together enough. Not that her personal life was any of his business, anyway.

“If it makes ya feel any better, they really raked me over the coals for this one.”

“It does not!” came her quick reply. “I only asked for a chocolate bar. Not for you to spend money that you need on me.”

Geez, this lady was too good for him. As if Sans ever really went out of his way for anyone.

Except Papyrus, but he was family. And sometimes Grillby, if he felt bad about failing to pay his tab for too long. And Alphys, but he owed her for screwing off after space-time blew up in their faces.

And now, the lady behind the door. The lady he didn’t owe anything to, except a few good laughs.

Who was he kidding? Those laughs were more important to him than anything.

“Eh, it just cost me one day of selling ‘dogs. Donut worry about it.”

“Very well. Since it was for a good cause, I will not grill you any further. But please tell me that was the last chocolate you purchased for me.”

“It’s the last one I purchased.” He grinned. While she couldn’t see his expression, she must have heard the but in his voice.

“Please tell me you did not steal any chocolate for me.”

“Geez, lady, what do you take me for? I’d never commit petty thievery.”

“Well, that is reassuring.”

“Yep. Gotta save room for the real high-dollar crimes. Like the illegal hot dog stand.”

The voice behind the door went silent. He wished he could see her face now more than ever. His own grin slowly slid from his skull.

“Everyone knows about it,” he reassured her. “If the King really wanted to shut me down, he’d have done it a long time ago.”

“Oh, I am not judging you for that. I am sure the law is rigged against you if the King has any say in it.” Her voice was surprisingly bitter.

His real problem was that he couldn’t ever find the necessary documents to get licensed in food preparation. His birth certificate was presumably in whatever alternate dimension his old man had blasted them out of.

“You are judging me for something, though,” he realized. The chill of the snow seeped into his bones, but he didn’t dare adjust his position. Somehow he felt that if he moved, she would disappear.

“I am not. I was only thinking about…” She sighed. “It is complicated. There was a time when I could have helped you, but it is long past.”

“Help me? Look, lady, the ‘dog stand is fine. Promise. Better than fine, since I don’t gotta pay taxes on it.”

She chuckled at that.

“Very well. Forgive a silly old lady for worrying.”

“Done.” He smiled, settling back against the door more comfortably.

He should’ve known she’d have a problem with his illegal activities, though. She was a classy lady, and he was… him. Why had he even brought it up? It wasn’t a great joke. Did he really just want her to know?

Eh, whatever. She wasn’t mad, so no harm done, right?

“I would like to know how you acquired this other chocolate, if it was not through your sticky fingers.” She sounded like she was grinning.

“Huh? Oh.” He blinked and dug out the last chocolate of the bunch. Blue dusted his cheeks. “QC—that’s the lady who runs the shop in town—gave ‘em to me for free. They’re called, uh, kisses.”

QC had a knowing look in her eyes when she’d offered the bag of chocolates to him. It was his own fault for implying they were for a girl. Everyone already thought he screwed around in the woods on his shifts, and with the way gossip travelled in a small town, everyone at Grillby’s would be asking about his girlfriend tonight.

“Kisses,” the lady behind the door echoed. “This is not one of your jokes, is it?”

“Not this time. Sorry to disappoint.” His grin felt too tight. “They’re, uh, tiny chocolates. Kinda cone-shaped? QC makes ‘em herself, so they’ve gotta be good.”

“Oh.” Oddly, the voice did sound disappointed. Sans couldn’t imagine why. Not like he could kiss her through the door, even if he had lips. And even if there was some unlikely timeline where she wanted a kiss from him.

He wanted to thump his skull back against the door, but there was no point in worrying her like that.

“In that case, I will take the kisses. They will be perfect for…”

He was sure she would leave it at that. Cover up with some non sequitur.

So his eyesockets went wide when she said, “for the anniversary of my child’s passing.”

“Oh.” He let out a strangled little laugh. “I—geez, I’m sorry. If I’d known—”

“You would have what? Spent even more money on this silly old lady, who cannot even leave to buy her child’s favorite chocolate?” Her voice was firm. “No. I thought you deserved to know, after the trouble you went to, and because you shared your own secret with me today.”

“My ‘dog stand is hardly a secret,” he said, still feeling a little shaky. She had a kid? A dead kid?

Well, who in the Underground didn’t have skeletons in their closet? Metaphorically or literally. She was still his best friend. If she wanted his pity, she would’ve said something sooner.

“Regardless,” she said. “It is in the past. Forget it, if you wish. But please do not treat me any differently.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sincerely. If there was one thing he was good at, it was maintaining the status quo. “So, uh. These chocolates. I kind of wanted you to have all of ‘em, if that’s alright with you.”

“It would be rude to refuse a gift, would it not?” She sounded like she was smiling again, to his relief.

“There’s just one problem. Uh. Don’t think they’re all gonna fit under the door.” He rapped on the stone surface with his knuckle for emphasis.

“I did not assume they would. The recipe I gave you before hardly passed through.”

Sans blinked. “Then you—huh?”

“I will open the door just a fraction. It can only be done from the inside.” She paused, like she was gathering a breath. “I would ask that you do not look. I promise I will not peek, either.”

Sans’s ribcage tightened. She was going to open the door. She would be right there, with no stone between them.

The thought opened a desperate floodgate within him. He hadn’t realized just how badly he wanted to see her, to know her, to live off of more than just scraps and unfinished sentences.

She once had a child. She had some kind of beef against the King. She wanted to give charity to spiders, but didn’t have enough money. All these facts he filed away, tucking them into the grooves in his ribcage.

It would be enough. He’d duct tape those gates shut again, if he had to. He wasn’t going to betray the trust she’d shown him.

“Got it. You don’t wanna be smitten by my good looks, I understand,” he joked.

(He had a feeling it would be the other way around, if anything. Not that quality of jokes translated to quality of appearance—he would know. If it did, he’d have biceps like his brother.)

“It would be tragic. Much too high a price for you to handsome chocolate to me.”

“Heh, I’m sure you’re a door-able too. But I’ll keep my sockets shut, since our friendship hinges on it.”

That got a raucous laugh out of her, the kind that started off high-pitched and quickly became something of a snorting bleat. That sound was sweeter than chocolate to him.

...Man, his pals at Grilby’s would be right to dunk on him. He was a massive dork.

“Alright,” she said once she caught her breath, “if you are ready, my friend…”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Better choco-late than never, huh?”

That one only got a snort, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the pun fell flat, or because she was nervous. As far as he knew, she hadn’t been outside of the Ruins in years. And here she was, trusting a sentry—someone whose job it was to keep a look out—to turn a blind eye.

It was a good thing he’d never been good at his job.

Stone ground against stone with a dramatic rumble. His eyesockets stayed shut. Warmth emanated from somewhere near his shoulder, and he lifted the bag of chocolates.

His small hand brushed a large fur-covered one. A shiver trailed down his spine. One small touch shouldn’t have done so much to him, but—but she was real. She was more than just a voice behind a door. Which he knew, but knowing and feeling could be worlds apart at times.

She took the bag, and the moment was over. But the door didn’t close.

“My dear friend,” she whispered, her voice sounding closer than ever. “Would it be presumptuous to ask another favor of you?”

“‘Course not. Glad to do a favor for my favor-ite person.” He kept his tone light, unaffected by the swirling emotions inside him.

“If I could… oh, dear, this is embarrassing.”

He resisted the urge to open his eyes, to see what look might be on her face.

“It has simply been so long… may I hold your hand a moment longer?”

He felt the marrow heating within his bones.

“That all? I gotta hand it to ya, you made me think you needed an arm and a leg.”

She chuckled before awkwardly fumbling to grasp his hand again.

Heat poured from her palm into his phalanges. Aside from the fur, there were several spots of soft skin—probably paw pads. Was she a dog monster, like the Canine Unit in town? She didn’t make nearly enough dog jokes for that to be the case. Her laugh sounded more like a goat’s, but she obviously didn’t have hooves. Maybe she was some kind of chimera? You didn’t see those often nowadays, but then again, no one saw monsters from the Ruins, either.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice as soft as the snow that began to drift around him.

“Not disappointed?” He asked, only half-joking. “My hand can’t be as comfy as yours.”

“Ah, but it is all your bone. And that is wonderful to me.”

“Geez, old lady.” He was grateful she couldn’t see his blush. “You’re pretty fur-fect yourself.”

When she laughed, her body shook all the way down to her hand. The feeling more than made up for all the G he’d spent on chocolate and donuts.

Suddenly his hand was being lifted up, and then something soft pressed against his knuckles. His soul flared erratically, and his eyes nearly flew open. If they had, he was sure his left eyelight would have been blue from shock.

“A kiss for a kiss,” she said slyly. “It is only fair.”

“Heh heh…” His voice shook with more than laughter. “Technically, that was one kiss for a bag of kisses. Pretty sure that math doesn’t square up.”

“Oh, you are quite right! One day we will have to circle back and rectify that.”

He practically had to cast gravity magic on himself to keep his eyes from flying open.

“You—huh?” He said intelligently.

“Perhaps not soon,” she clarified. “This has all been… a lot, for me. But thanks to you, my dear friend, this day has not been so bitter as I am used to.”

“Uh, no problem, then. With all that chocolate, I hope it’s sweet.”

Sweet as the anniversary of a death could be, anyway. He grimaced. Maybe that joke was too soon, but she just squeezed his hand before finally letting go.

“I do think it will be,” she said softly. “I will look forward to hearing more of your punny jokes tomorrow.”

The door scraped shut, and he hesitantly opened his eyes. He couldn't help inspecting the door to see if anything changed. Pressing his still-warm hand against the smooth stone.

“Heh. Good luck getting rid of me now.” He grinned.

Then he tucked his hands in his pockets, where her kiss remained like a tattoo on his bone.

[heyitssmiller]

Frosted Windowpanes Part Two

I have no idea why this was so hard to write? Part one just came so easily and this... not so much. But here it is! All the holiday tropes! Christmas puns (thank you to all of y’all who gave me ideas for those)! Falling in love!

As always, @donttouchmycarrots is my hero for proofreading!! Love you <3

@lumosinlove Guess who’s back to borrow your characters ;) Thank you so much!!

Part One if you missed it!

.

Finn had a Plan.

Well, half a Plan.

Maybe.

Step one: meet up with Logan and Leo again. Step two: woo them. Step three: …

Well, it wasn’t much. And it was very vague. But Finn’s plans tended to never go the way he wanted them to anyway, so vague was usually for the best. And so far, it had been going well. They’d grabbed dinner several times, ran into each other at the store or buying Christmas presents downtown. And on Monday the diner was closed, so Finn and Leo spent hours at the farm helping where they could and pestering Logan. He was so fun to tease – he got all gruff and grumpy and adorable. Leo seemed to think so, too, if the number of times he teamed up with Finn to make Logan get all red was anything to go off of.

At the beginning of all this, Finn had thought he’d been overdramatic. He’d woken up the morning after first meeting Logan and Leo and assumed he’d been tired and jet-lagged and was imagining all those feelings he’d felt the night before.

And then he’d met up with them again.

Love at first sight wasn’t real. Finn knew this. But being here, meeting Logan and Leo, just might have been enough to change his mind. It made no sense, but – well, here he was. The past few days were happy, rose-tinted, and Finn couldn’t believe his luck. What were the odds that he’d find both of them in this sleepy little town?

So here he was, pulling into the parking lot of Leo’s for a cup of coffee and a healthy serving of sweet southern blond.

Leo was out front, shoveling snow and looking absolutely miserable while doing it. He was bundled in a thick coat and hat, scarf wrapped high around his neck. Finn laughed under his breath as he turned his car off and braved the cold. Poor southern boy. Leo glanced up at him briefly when he approached, then did a double take.

“Morning, sunshine.” Finn said with a cheeky grin. “Enjoying the snow day?”

Leo’s resulting grumpy look made Finn laugh. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Nate called and said he can’t make it to work today because the roads are so bad.” Leo took a deep breath, and then the rest of his words came out in a jumbled, rushed mess. “Which isn’t his fault and I’m not blaming him at all. But I haven’t started cooking and we open in thirty minutes and there’s no coffee brewing and nowhere for people to park because of this goddamn snow and so I’m stuck shoveling snow instead of cooking and I’m so far behind-”

Finn gently pressed a finger to Leo’s lips, halting the nervous ramblings. Leo looked down at his finger, then back up to meet Finn’s eyes.

Oh, he was so gorgeous.

Finn had to force himself to focus on the matter at hand instead of cherry-red lips and soft baby blues. “Relax, ok? And hand me the shovel. I’ll do this, while you get on inside and start cooking.”

“But – Finn,” Leo said, and wow did he love the sound of his voice in that southern twang.

“Leo,” He echoed with an attempted accent, eliciting a smile from the blond.

“I can’t just ask you to work. You’re on vacation.”

“First of all, you didn’t ask – I offered. And the friends I’m visiting are both at work,” Finn explained, “so I’ve been left to my own devices for the day.”

Leo winced in sympathy. “Bless your heart.”

And see, Finn had done his research. He’d googled New Orleans, the state of Louisiana, and the south in general. And he’d learned that southerners were very confusing – more confusing than people gave them credit for. They were polite and kind to everyone, even if they definitely didn’t mean it. The phrase “bless your heart” could mean they either absolutely adored you or they thought you were the worst person on the planet.

Finn really hoped it wasn’t the latter. He didn’t think it was the latter, anyways.

“I’m literally dying of boredom. I’ll shovel the snow, and then I can come help you cook!” At Leo’s skeptical look, Finn brought out the big guns: his puppy dog eyes. They were known to melt even the hardest of hearts. He’d learned this lesson in college when asking his Grinch of an Ethics professor for some extra credit. “Please?”

Leo hesitated, but Finn could see the exact moment he caved. “Alright. But you’re getting paid.”

“Absolutely not. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

“I’ll pay you in food and coffee.”

“Deal.” Finn said, grabbing the shovel from Leo’s mittened hands. “Like I could ever say no to your food.”

Leo’ smile, warm and a little bashful, probably could’ve thawed the snow on the pavement if it was directed that way. “What would you like: sweet or savory?”

“Sweet,” Finn said instantly, even though he really preferred savory. His one-track mind was still stuck on dimples. “But I take my coffee black.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Finn watched him go, knowing that he had the dopiest smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day. And he knew a way to make it even better.

Finn dialed the number for Tremblay’s Trees, hoping more than anything that Logan would be the one to pick up. But of course he wasn’t that lucky. A bright, cheery voice answered the phone - definitely not Logan. “Tremblay’s Trees!0 This is Thomas, how can I help you?”

“Uh,” Finn said articulately, “Hi, I’d like to talk to Logan. Is he there?”

There was a slight pause, then: “Maybe. Who’s asking? And how do you know our dear Lolo?” The voice sounded curious, if not a little mischievous. Before Finn could answer, though, there was a scuffling over the line.

“Talker, give me the phone.”

“Oh, come on, I’ve got the five o’clock news slot tonight. Give the people what they want, Logan! Who’s your mystery caller?”

“I swear to god-”

The scuffling sound got louder, then there was a loud clatter when Finn assumed the phone hit the ground. He jerked his own phone away from his ear with a wince. “I am very confused.” He stated, not sure if anyone else heard him.

There was a small, softer rustle, then a breathless voice asked, “Hello?”

Finn couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Lolo.”

That laugh was just as wonderful over the phone as it was in person. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Mmm… I might need to be convinced.” Finn said, letting some flirtiness slip through. “Anyways, I’ve got an idea. You busy today?”

“I’ve got the morning off. Why, what did you have in mind?”

So Finn, with the phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, told the story of this morning as he shoveled – Nate not being able to make it to his shift, the ice and snow in Leo’s parking lot, Leo being behind on cooking and acting anxious. “So I was thinking we could do something? Like a surprise? And I know you guys need to actually sell things and make a living and stuff but I was thinking about decorating the diner? He just works so hard and he’s so stressed and I feel like he could use a little holiday cheer. What do you think?”

The other voice from earlier must have shouted, because he was loud enough to hear over the phone. “Phone guy! What the hell did you say to make him melt like that?”

Logan punched Talker in the shoulder. Hard. “I will lock you in the closet, Talker. Shut. Up.” His attention was brought back to the phone by Finn’s laugh and his demeanor softened again. He’d never met someone as chaotically considerate as Finn O’Hara. It was such a sweet, thoughtful idea. And it was something to help out Leo? How could Logan say no?

“Sounds like a plan.” Logan said, cradling the phone closer to his ear. “Most people already have their decorations so we don’t have a whole lot left, but I’ll see what I can find.”

“Perfect! Oh this is going to be so fun – fuck, I’ve gotta go. Customers just showed up. But I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Great. Ok see you soon bye!” The words reached Logan in a rush before the line went dead.

What a dork.

Logan was pretty sure he was half in love with him.

“So…” Talker said suddenly, making Logan spin around quickly. “Who are you pining over?”

Noelle, who had been passing by on her way to the kitchen, backpedaled in order to join the conversation. “Are we talking about Logan’s love life? Because I’m so here for that.”

Logan sighed and went to the coat rack by the door, grabbing his coat, toque, and scarf. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

They both promptly ignored him. Talker grinned at his fiancée, sensing trouble he could get into. “He’s become such a sap.”

Noelle snuggled up to Talker, turning her teasing gaze to her brother. “But if it’s who I’m thinking of, they have such good chemis-tree.”

“Did you guys practice this or something?”

“Hey man, don’t be so defensive.” Talker said, voice turning serious. “You know we’re all rooting for you.”

“I hate you both so much.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Lolo.” Noelle sighed, giving him an over-the-top hug and obnoxious kisses to his cheek. “We’re just having some fun. Do you want us to stop needling you?”

“I’m having fun fir sure!” Talker shouted, then burst into raucous laughter, which stopped as abruptly as it started. “Wait. That wasn’t Leo on the phone. You've got eyes for someone other than him, now? Branching out a little, are we?"

“No.” Logan said instantly, then winced. Because his feelings for Leo definitely hadn’t changed. But then there was Finn… “Maybe. It’s complicated, ok?”

“The redhead that was hanging out with you and Leo on Monday?”

Logan felt his cheeks heat up but didn’t say anything. Monday had been the best, though. Showing the two of them the farm and how he did his job and watching their noses and cheeks turn adorable shades of pink from the cold. Even though he’d been there for a year, Leo still seemed in awe of all the snow. He clearly hated it, but Logan could tell he still found wonder and beauty in a clean blanket of undisturbed, freshly-fallen snow. Finn, even though he was clearly freezing too, kept cracking jokes the entire time, his voice muffled by his scarf. They’d walked and talked and learned more about each other among the saplings that would be full-grown and ready to be cut down by next season.

Yeah, Monday had been a great day.

And Logan was so screwed.

“Birch, please.” Noelle teased, then softened. “But really, Logan. Both of them were just as interested in you as they were in each other. You’ve got nothing to worry about, you just need to talk to them.”

He looked up from the buttons of his coat. “You think so?”

“Only one way to find out. What are you doing with them today?”

“We’re decorating the diner.” Logan pulled his hat on and looked over at his sister. “Do you think dad’ll be ok with me taking some garland and a wreath?”

Noelle scoffed. “With all the coffee and pastries you boy’s given us, I think he’s more than paid for it. Do you want company?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” Talker said, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’d make the perfect wingmen.”

“You did enough while I was on the phone, thanks.” Logan said, grabbing the keys from the counter. “Ok I’m headed out. See you later.”

Talker and Noelle sent a chorus of boos after him, only stopping when the door closed firmly behind him. He huffed out a laugh, shook his head, and headed towards the display counter to grab decorations. They were a little old since it was so close to Christmas day, but they’d have to do. Logan hesitated for a split second, then grabbed the Santa hat as well. They’d get a kick out of that. He threw the decorations in the back of the truck and took off down the road.

.

They actually worked really well together – Leo and Finn, that is. Finn dealt with customers while Leo made the food. They had a complex, intricate dance around the close quarters of the diner but they seemed to know the footwork already and could predict exactly what the other needed without blinking an eye. Leo peered out the kitchen window at Finn as he took orders at another table, laughing at something one of the women said. He was good at this. He was naturally outgoing and good with people, but he was also efficient and seemed to be able to keep track of twenty different things at once.

Leo frowned thoughtfully down at the grits on the stove. Logically, he shouldn’t like Finn. The redhead had appeared like a whirlwind and thrown everything off course. But then he went out of his way to be helpful and sweet and thoughtful even though it didn’t benefit him in any way. He had a big heart with a lot of love to give. And he gave it willingly to everyone, it seemed.

Don’t get him wrong, that was a good thing – it was a great thing. But it also made the past few days incredibly confusing. Was Finn treating Leo like everyone else, or did he want something more?

He definitely wanted something more with Logan, though. That much was obvious.

Leo just wasn’t sure how he fit into all of this.

Finn barging into the kitchen snapped Leo out of his thoughts. He looked up as Finn started looking around for something on the counters and shelves, tongue poking out in concentration. Leo couldn’t help but smile at the little detail.

“What are you looking for?” He asked, stepping away from the stove.

“The, um…” Finn said, trailing off as he continued to search, clearly distracted. “The spicy maple sauce for the chicken and waffles.”

“In the fridge.” Leo stated plainly, maneuvering around Finn to grab flour from the pantry, brushing against his back as he did so and trying to ignore how the simple touch heightened his awareness of the redhead. Finn threw open the fridge door, scanning the shelves.

“Where?”

“Second shelf from the bottom, on the right.”

A few seconds of silence, then: “Where?”

Leo laughed, dumping a cup of flour into a bowl and heading to the fridge. He peered over Finn’s shoulder, then reached around him with one long arm to grab the bowl of sauce. “Right in front of you, sweetheart.” He teased. Finn turned around so that he was facing Leo, a look that Leo had seen a lot in the past few days but still couldn’t identify on his face.

“Yeah,” was all he said, soft and a little strangled.

Leo looked away from those deep, brown eyes and down at the sauce. His heartrate picked up significantly. “Have you tried this yet?” At Finn’s shake of his head, Leo grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer. “Figured I’d combine my roots with where I ended up, y’know? Tabasco, black pepper, maple syrup, and a few more secret ingredients.” He said with a wink, spooning some out and holding it out to Finn. “I’m pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself. Try it.”

Instead of grabbing the spoon from Leo, Finn just leaned forwards and tasted the sauce straight from the spoon in Leo’s hand. Leo’s breath hitched and his stomach swooped as Finn straightened again and met his eyes.

Oh, he could stare into those eyes forever. Eyes the same color of the coffee Finn had slid through the kitchen window about an hour ago with the words, “figured you could use some” before dashing off to clear another table. Leo had turned beet red, but grabbed the coffee and held it close before taking a sip.

Leo also hadn’t realized how close they were. The diner was small and the kitchen was cramped, but they definitely didn’t need to be standing this close. Not that Leo was complaining.

“Is it hot in here?” Finn murmured, gaze flitting from Leo’s eyes down to his lips and back again.

Leo seemed a little lost, too, leaning closer to the redhead without even realizing he was doing it. “Must be the sauce.”

It definitely wasn’t just the sauce.

The chime that alerted them to the front door opening startled both of them, forcing them to jerk away from each other and blush furiously.

“I, uh, I’m going to go check on that.” Finn said, still not looking away from Leo as he backed up.

“Ok.” Leo whispered, reaching back to grab the island behind him in an attempt to steady himself. Finn reluctantly tore his eyes away and disappeared from sight, leaving Leo reeling in the kitchen as he entered the dining area.

Finn’s mind was still back in the kitchen, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t been forced to step away. He’d never wanted to kiss someone senseless quite as much as he did right then. And how was he supposed to keep it together when all he wanted to do was flip the diner sign from open to closed and get Logan here and finally talk to them. They’d felt this pull - this magnetism - too. He knew they did. The only thing left to do was finally talk about it. 

Finn was forced to snap back to the present when the counter was suddenly covered in green needles, red berries, and festive ribbons. He looked up to see Logan grinning at him. Under his coat he was wearing red plaid, which matched the Santa hat perched on his head.

How was it possible to want two people so much at the same time? He couldn’t breathe with all the emotions overflowing in his chest.

“Ho ho ho,” Logan attempted to say, but cracked up before he could finish. Finn grinned and laughed as well, stepping forward to greet him.

“You should’ve used the chimney.” Finn joked, tugging on the end of his hat playfully. He got a smile and sparkling green eyes in return. Finn bit back a dreamy sigh. “But really, thank you. Leo’s gonna love this.”

Logan’s face grew a little worried. “How is he?”

Ha.

Haha.

That was a good question, since Finn left him standing there in the kitchen with the spoon still in his hand, looking a little lost.

He ended up shrugging, glancing back at the kitchen door longingly. “Better now. Still seems tired.”

“We’re going to have to force him to take breaks, aren’t we.” It wasn’t a question.

“Probably. If we tag team, I think we can manage to make it happen.” Finn looked down at the decorations. “So where are we putting these?”

Logan looked around the dining area, giving Finn a perfect view of his profile. He longed to kiss that strong jawline so badly, holy shit. “We could hang some over the kitchen window and some around the front window. And the wreath can go on the door.” Finn followed Logan as he maneuvered his way around tables to the front window, eyeing it critically. “The frame is wide enough that it should stay up on its own, so we won’t need nails or anything.” He grabbed the garland from the counter and then turned back around. Finn looked from him to the tall crown molding around the window.

“Need a ladder?”

“No.”

Finn laughed, grabbing one end of the garland and stretching up to place it on the ledge. Once it was secure, he looked over his shoulder at Logan and stuck his hand out for the other end. Logan hesitated, clearly wanting to do it himself, but quickly admitted defeat and handed it over. He huffed at Finn’s smug smile.

“Shut up.”

Finn laughed as he hung the garland. Logan was so small and grumpy and cute. Finn wanted to bundle him up in his arms and never let go. His little pocket-sized lumberjack. How adorable. He was so different from Leo, in basically every way. And yet Finn still wanted them both. How the hell did that work? 

“I should probably check on the customers.” Finn said reluctantly, glancing around at the breakfast crowd. “Do you think you can manage the kitchen window?”

“I got it.” Logan grumbled, sizing up his next target. Finn just shook his head fondly and started making his rounds to the occupied tables. Logan grabbed the remaining garland and headed behind the counter. He couldn’t help but stick his head through the window and look around. It was several degrees warmer in the kitchen than it was in the dining area. Logan was surprised at how tidy it was, considering how hectic the morning had been. There were a few scattered dishes in the sink, but the counters were mostly clean and organized, each bowl seemed to have a designated location. Leo, focused with his head down, maneuvered between stations with an effortless grace as he breaded a chicken tender and threw it into a frier. Logan never thought he’d be so entranced by something as simple as cooking but here he was, watching Leo hum along to the Christmas music on the radio as he poured batter into a waffle iron. He grabbed a mug of coffee off to the side and looked up as he took a sip, jumping when he saw Logan.

“Logan! Hey, honey!” He smiled, like seeing Logan was the highlight of his day. Logan yearned at the sight of that smile. He seemed to be doing a whole lot of yearning lately. “When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. Brought you something.”

Leo arched an eyebrow. “That sounds a little ominous.”

“No,” Logan laughed. “No, it’s a good thing.” He held up the garland and wiggled it around a little, causing it to sway in the air.

Leo’s entire face lit up. “Christmas decorations?”

“It was Finn’s idea.” Logan said, looking back over his shoulder at the redhead. Leo visibly softened, smile gentle and eyes warm.

“He sure is sweet, isn’t he?”

You just need to talk to them, Noelle’s voice echoed in Logan’s head. Looking at Leo right then, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right.

.

“Sure is snowing hard out there, eh?” Logan asked several hours later as he looked out the window. It was a strange lull in the day – too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. They were all grateful for the break. Logan honestly wasn’t sure how Leo did this every day – it was exhausting.

Finn, who was sitting on the other side of the booth from Logan and Leo with his legs stretched out, pulled up the weather app on his phone. “It’s only supposed to get worse. They’re calling for a blizzard.”

Leo looked out at the snow worriedly. “I really don’t wanna drive home in all that.”

“Might need to close up early, then. No one’s going to be out in this weather, anyways.” Logan said, watching Leo bite his lip as he thought about it. “I could drive you, if you want.”

Leo looked over at him, relief clear in his eyes. “Would you?” He rushed to continue, “I don’t wanna inconvenience you or anything, and I know you need to get home too-”

“Leo,” Logan cut in with a smile. If Leo didn’t know Logan would do pretty much anything for him at this point, he was clearly oblivious. “I don’t mind, I promise.”

Leo seemed to accept it without further argument and looked over at Finn. “Do you wanna tag along? I was thinking about making cookies.”

“Well that depends.” Finn said with mock gravitas, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the table. “What kind of cookies are we talking?”

Leo matched his pose, mischief alight in his eyes. “I was thinking snickerdoodles, but I’d be willing to reconsider.”

“Sneak in some sugar cookies we can decorate and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Leo and Finn shook on it, keeping it professional.

Logan was infatuated with the two of them.

“So you’re closing early?” He asked, excited at the prospect of spending the rest of the day with them. At Leo’s nod, he nearly sighed with relief. “Good. You need a break.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. “Maybe I do.”

Finn grinned. “He finally admits it!”

“Ok, ok, I get it.” Leo sighed, shoving Logan’s shoulder repeatedly until he got out of the booth. Leo followed after him. “I’ve got to put stuff away in the kitchen and then I’ll be done.”

Logan and Finn shared a look before trailing after him. They worked together to clean up, put food away, and organize the receipts and cash register for the day. It went much faster with three people. Before they knew it, all three of them were piling into Logan’s pickup truck, bundled up against the cold and brushing freshly-fallen snowflakes off of their coats and out of their hair. Logan pulled out onto the road, driving while Leo gave directions from the passenger’s seat.

Leo’s house was nice – small, but it looked warm and well-loved. There was a snowman out front, complete with a scarf and carrot nose.

“Cute.” Finn said as they got out of the truck, walking up to the snowman. Leo smiled, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“My friend’s little brother made that over the weekend.” He unlocked the front door and ushered everyone inside as he held the door for them. Leo’s house was all cool tones – soft blue and purples and greens. There was a tree in the corner of the living room by the window, all lit up and decorated. There were presents under the tree, wrapped in brown paper with ribbons and bows.

Leo hung his coat on the coat rack and took Logan’s and Finn’s from them. “So. Cookies?”

“Nope,” Logan said, grabbing Leo by the hand and tugging him towards the living room. “Rest first, then cookies.” Leo laughed, reaching behind him to find Finn’s arm and pulling him along with them.

“I won’t say no to a Christmas movie.” He agreed as they all collapsed onto the couch. Finn grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and threw it over the three of them while Leo grabbed the TV remote.

Logan moved closer under the pretense of getting under more of the blanket. He was now pressed up against Leo, butterflies in his stomach. “My vote is for Die Hard.”

Finn scoffed, throwing his legs over Leo’s and Logan’s thighs. “That doesn’t count as a Christmas movie.”

“I beg your pardon-”

“Is it about Christmas? No. Case closed.”

Logan leaned forward to look around Leo at the redhead. “It takes place during Christmas!”

Leo just listened amusedly to the bickering as he flicked through movie titles. They were still arguing when he started the cute, old Claymation Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Both boys trailed off as the introduction music started.

“This works.” Finn said, settling in to get more comfortable, his calves flexing against Logan’s thighs as he stretched. Logan hummed in agreement, eyes already glued on the screen.

They hadn’t even met Hermey the elf before Leo was sound asleep, head pillowed on Finn’s shoulder and breathing slow and even. Finn looked over blond curls at Logan and smiled, making his heart thud painfully in his chest. He needed to talk to them, and soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there and keep all these feelings internalized.

But it could wait until after a nap. He snuggled up close and turned back to the TV.

.

“No, you need to-” Leo stopped and laughed, pointing to the recipe. “Teaspoon of vanilla extract, darlin’, not tablespoon.”

Finn switched out one measuring spoon for another with a wince. “That would’ve been bad, huh?”

“Very bad.” Leo agreed, looking over at the oven to see Logan already staring back at them, a wide, almost-giddy smile on his face as he started loading cookie dough balls onto a baking tray. One tray of snickerdoodles were already in the oven and spreading out rapidly as they cooked.

“We might’ve put those too close to each other,” Logan said, crouching down to look into the oven. “They’re all starting to stick together. It’s just one big, square cookie.”

“That’s ok. It’ll still taste good.” Leo said with a shrug. They both turned when Finn started banging on the table in time to the music.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas! There is just one thing I need!” He screamed, bopping along to the song. Logan laughed and let himself be tugged forwards to dance. Leo watched as they both jumped around and danced in the kitchen, hips swaying and acting like total dorks. But they were so happy, as well. Big smiles graced their faces as they laughed and sang and held each other close. Leo whisked wet ingredients together in a bowl and leaned back against the counter as he enjoyed the over-the-top show. They were cute together in the warm glow of the kitchen – a sharp contrast to the snow falling outside and collecting on the windowsill. Finn tilted his head back to shriek the last high note, causing Logan and Leo to both burst into fits of laughter.

“O’Hara, please don’t audition for Broadway.” Logan teased, still laughing a little. Finn scowled and grabbed a tea towel, spinning it up before whipping it at the brunet.

This started an all-out war. Many a cookie lost their life in the crossfire when Logan accidentally hit Leo’s arm as he was transferring cooled cookies into a tin. They had a warrior’s send-off as they were dumped into the trash can.

After the cookies were baked and decorated and the kitchen was cleaned thoroughly, it was pitch black outside. Leo had genuinely lost track of time, but he was selfishly grateful for it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for y’all to be driving in this weather in the dark.” He said, snagging a cookie from one of the plates and taking a bite as he tried to be casual about the two boys potentially staying the night. “I’ve got a guest bedroom and a pull-out couch if you wanna stay here.”

Finn and Logan looked at each other, then Logan shrugged. “If that’s ok with you.”

Ok? It was wonderful.

“Of course it is. I’ll go make up the beds and get y’all something to sleep in, ok?” Leo said before hurrying to his room, where he hastily made his bed and rummaged through his dresser for clothes. He muttered to himself as he pulled out two pairs of sweatpants. “Don’t make a big deal of this, Nutty. They’re just spending the night. That’s it.”

His mind fast-forwarded to imagine sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. They’d talk and laugh and just maybe share some coffee-flavored kisses.

Leo sighed, pressing his forehead against the edge of his dresser. “I’m screwed, ain’t I?”

.

Logan woke up to a gentle hand prodding his shoulder. He breathed in sharply as he remembered where he was and blinked his eyes open to be met with worried blue ones. “Leo?” He asked as he sat up, voice raspy with lack of use. “What’s wrong?”

He was greeted with an absolute onslaught of words. “There’s so much snow outside. Like, so much snow. I’ve never seen this much snow before. And I didn’t think it would be this bad so I don’t have any milk or bread or eggs in the house and I doubt I can get to the store. How long do you think the roads will be out? And what about the diner? Is snow damage a thing? Do I need to go check-”

Logan laughed softly, falling back against the pillows and covering his eyes with his forearm. “What – milk, eggs, and bread?”

“It’s a southern thing.” Logan couldn’t see him, but he could hear the pout in his voice. His vision was suddenly filled with blond bed-head and wide baby blues as Leo pulled his arm away from his face. If he could wake up to this every day, Logan would die a happy man. “Come on, sweetheart, I’m really freaking out right now.”

One of these days, the terms of endearment were actually going to kill him.

“I’m sure the diner’s fine. Besides, there’s not much we can do until the roads clear, so we’ll just have to wait it out.” Logan shifted over on the bed, leaving a Leo-sized spot open. He tugged on Leo’s arm until he crawled into bed, laying on his side to face Logan, their feet tangled together. Leo was wearing fuzzy socks.

Logan smiled at the sight in front of him, then closed his eyes again. “Go back to sleep, Leo. We’ll deal with it when-”

The door banged open to reveal Finn, face bright with excitement. “Snow! Have you guys seen all the snow? We should-” He stopped when he saw the two boys in bed, nestled together and still sleepy. He cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to-”

“Cuddle.” Leo said, reaching up for Finn as well. “We should cuddle.” Finn smiled warmly and didn’t hesitate to clamber into bed on Logan’s other side, scooting in close and only elbowing Logan once as he got comfy. Logan grumbled, but quickly got over it when he felt a tentative arm wrap around him as he drifted back off to sleep.

.

Leo woke up to two boys asleep in bed with him and couldn’t think of a time when he was happier. They were all tangled together in a mess of limbs and blankets and pillows. It was warm and soft and Leo never wanted to leave. But he also wanted to surprise them with coffee and breakfast. Breakfast in bed wouldn’t be too obvious would it? He thought back to the past twenty-four hours and decided that if this wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t sure what was. Now it was just a matter of taking that next step and actually talking about it. So who cared if it was too obvious or not?

Leo glanced at Logan and Finn one last time. There was just something about seeing the two of them in his clothes. Logan’s sweaterpaws were visible from where he was grabbing onto Finn’s arm in his sleep. Finn was close to the same size as Leo so the clothes actually fit him pretty well. His face was pressed into brown hair, arm tightening around Logan as he huffed out a breath. The sight did something to Leo’s heart. He smiled dopily before sneaking out of bed, his back popping as he stretched. Ok, game plan: coffee, breakfast, talk. He could do this.

He crept down the hall and into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as he could when getting a frying pan out and setting it on the stove. Next came the kettle for water to use in the French press, bacon, and ingredients to make homemade biscuits. Normally he would’ve done eggs, but they’d used all of them on the cookies yesterday.

The biscuits went into the oven and the bacon into the frying pan, sizzling away. So much for breakfast in bed. Leo knew the smell of food cooking would bring the other two out of the bedroom and, sure enough, he soon heard two pairs of footsteps headed towards him, one slightly muffled by too-long sweatpants hems dragging along the floor. He grabbed three mugs from the cabinet and sent a smile over his shoulder at the two boys.

Three cups of coffee: one black, one with cream only, and one with cream and sugar.

Leo pulled the biscuits out of the oven and quickly transferred them onto a plate, doing the same with the bacon before bringing both to the table.

“Leo, you’re an angel.” Finn said as he grabbed plates and silverware for the three of them. Logan hummed in agreement from in front of the fridge, where he was collecting butter and jams for the biscuits. They all joined each other at the kitchen table, still a little sleepy-eyed and half awake.

Leo, halfway through his first sip of coffee, passed Finn his mug of steaming black coffee, then Logan his own cup full of cream and sugar, just how he liked it. Logan looked down at it and sighed happily, “Love you, Nutter Butter.”

Finn’s head shot up. Leo choked on his coffee, cheeks heating up. Logan looked at them confusedly before he realized what he said and his face paled. “Shit.”

“You... you love me?” Leo asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s heart ached a little at the look on Leo’s face. God, he should’ve told him a long time ago. In response he just slowly nodded, hesitantly meeting wide eyes and hoping for the best.

Leo smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Honey, I’ve loved you for months.” He took a deep breath, as if gathering up his courage, then reached out to grab Finn’s hand. “And I think I’m falling for you, too. Judging from the way Logan stares at you when you’re not looking, he feels the same.” Leo looked from Finn to Logan hopefully. “Right?”

Finn squeezed Leo’s hand, finally daring to hope. Maybe he could actually have this. His heart thundered in his chest, so loud that Logan and Leo were bound to hear it. “And how does he stare at me when I’m not looking?”

Leo’s eyes flicked over to Logan with a smile. “Take a look for yourself.”

Finn’s breath hitched as he looked over into evergreen eyes, bright and gazing at him the same way Finn had caught him staring at Leo so many times before. He laughed a little in relief, tracing Logan’s cheekbone with gentle fingers.

“I was a little worried we were never going to have this conversation. And I know we’ve got a lot to figure out, but...” He trailed off, a little in awe. What were the odds of this? Everything seemed to fall perfectly into place, like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t some huge revelation, though. There were no grand romantic gestures, no race against time, no frantic outburst. It was calm and gentle like the sun rising outside, casting everything in light pastels and golds.

Logan just laughed softly, scooting his chair back with a loud scraping noise and standing up. “Stop just sitting there and come here, I’ve been wanting to kiss you two for forever.”

Finn scrambled up from his seat and all but threw himself at Logan, nearly bowling him over as he kissed him enthusiastically, arms wrapped tightly around Logan’s waist. Leo smiled as he watched them. He loved their dynamic – the bickering and teasing like they’d known each other for years, and yet the head-over-heels way they looked at each other and held each other and kissed each other. They were so comfortable together, not shying away from anything it seemed. Leo couldn’t wait to see how their relationship grew and evolved over time. He couldn’t wait to see how all three of them would grow together. He stood too and joined Logan and Finn, pressing kisses to their cheeks, their jaws, their necks – anywhere he could reach.

Finn broke the kiss to press his forehead against Logan’s, eyes closed and smile a mile wide. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you at that farm.” His eyes turned to Leo next. He reached up and cupped Leo’s face in his hands. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first bite of pie.”

“What, was the muffuletta not good enough for – mmph.” Leo’s teasing words got cut off by Finn’s lips on his. He sighed into the kiss, draping his arms over Finn’s freckled shoulders and angling his head to deepen the kiss. He could taste black coffee on Finn’s lips and had never loved the flavor more. There was another hand at his back, stroking over his spine. Logan. Leo leaned back into his hand before breaking away from Finn to look at Logan – the guy he’d been pining after for just shy of a year.

“How did I get so lucky?” He murmured, prompting Logan to lean up and kiss him, softly and heartbreakingly gentle. Leo kissed him with purpose, running his tongue against Logan’s bottom lip and causing his breath to hitch.

He thought back to his musings of the night before during his panic in his bedroom and laughed against Logan’s lips. The brunet made a questioning humming noise, so Leo leaned back just far enough to whisper, “Maybe I’m clairvoyant.”

Finn laughed, bewildered. “What?”

Leo just glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, smiled, and combed a finger through red tresses. Sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. Talking and laughing and sharing some coffee-flavored kisses. Those had been his thoughts last night. And here he was, suddenly getting all of those things.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Leo said, looking down at his two with overflowing fondness as he thought of the future and hoped that those musings would come true, too.

[dakotacrisis]

Topsy Turvy (3)

By popular demand and my current Ladrien fixation I bring to you part 3 of this fluff fest. Enjoy!

---

Plagg was this close to throwing an extra large wheel of cheese at Adrien’s head. After Ladybug left last night he had been skipping around his room with the biggest, dorkiest grin imaginable. Every once in a while he would stop to contemplate how hurt his friend Marinette would be about this before he perked up again. Now he was standing in a pile of clothes trying to pick out an outfit for the movies tonight.

"What about this?" Adrien held up a black button up. "It's nice but understated and it would match Ladybug’s costume. Or is it weird to coordinate? Or maybe too fancy for a movie date? I have a black v-neck that may be better. What do you think?"

"It all looks the same to me," Plagg answered, not bothering to look up from the comic book he was reading.

"Plagg! Come on! Just give me an opinion. This is a big deal for me!"

Plagg grinned, a wicked thought entering his brain. "Oh I just don't know, Adrien. I don't wear clothes so I don't have the best source of judgement. Why don't you ask the designer friend of yours? I'm sure she would love to help you."

"That's actually a great idea--hey, wait a second--Plagg!" Adrien torn the comic out from under him like a tablecloth, "I can't ask Marinette for help regarding my date with Ladybug! Are you mad? Did you forget that she's the one that I need to reject after this?"

"Oh? Is she?" Plagg feigned ignorance. This was just too good to pass up. If only this poor little kitten of his knew the truth. He was rejecting the same girl he was going on a date with. He had to mess with him a little.

"Yes, Plagg, I have gone over this at length already." Adrien sighed, with a shake of his head, "Just work with me here and say button up or v-neck."

"Nude,"

Adrien tossed the comic back down. "You’re not funny."

"Really? I'm pretty sure I'm hilarious. You are just too young to appreciate my humor."

"Yeah, sure, that's the problem." Adrien looked between the two shirts he had before tossing the one aside. "V-neck. Definitely the v-neck."

He cradled the shirt close to him and Plagg had a moment of sincerity. Adrien was really happy about this date. He had never seen him so excited before. For decades Plagg had watched humans fall in love over and over. He could never really understand it since kwamis were incapable of the romantic love humans felt but he knew what familial love felt like. He knew that he loved Adrien as his chosen. If romantic love was anything like that then he wouldn't spoil the experience for Adrien anymore today. Tease him about any funny slip ups he may experience later, yes. But for today he would let the boy be. He deserved it.

---

"You really didn't have to see me off for my date, Alya." Marinette said, "I'm fine."

"You know I had to come. It's your first date with Adrien. No way was I gonna miss this." Alya kicked her feet excitedly, "I wanna hear all about it when you get back."

"What? Are you just gonna hang out here until I get home? Are you that interested in how my date goes that you’re going to wait up for me?"

"Duh, was that not obvious?"

"Well then," Marinette transformed, "how do I look?"

"You look like Ladybug."

"Right…" Ladybug looked at herself in the mirror before pulling the ribbons out of her hair to let it loose. "There, a little more casual. Right?"

"Sure, girl, a superhero wearing her hair down. Casual to the max." Alya rolled her eyes. "Now get going or you'll be late."

"Okay, see you later." She jumped through the trapdoor of her balcony and was off. Her heart was thundering loud in her chest the closer she got to the theater. She stopped at the building across from it and searched the faces heading inside. Then like a beacon under the neon lights she saw him. Adrien.

Okay. Be cool. Don't do anything stupid.

She fixed her hair and jumped off the building. She landed in her best hero pose across the street from him. When she looked up he was staring at her in awe.

Nailed it!

She then promptly tripped on the curb crossing the street.

"Watch it!" Adrien caught her by the arms before she could collide with the concrete, "You okay?"

"Yeah! Thanks! I've taken much worse tumbles than that." she laughed it off. "Guess you saved me this time."

"Uh yeah, I guess," Adrien fidgeted with his ring, "You look really nice. You're wearing your hair differently."

"Heroes gotta let their hair down sometimes, huh?" she chuckled to herself. "Consider it my unofficial off-duty look. Not that I'm ever really off-duty but you get what I mean."

"I get what you mean." They stood for a moment just staring at one another in mutual lovestruck awe before either of them remembered they were here for a date.

“Should we head in?” Adrien pointed back to the theater.

“Right, yes, we should do that.” they wandered inside and immediately gazes were drawn as they made their way to purchase their tickets. Despite her arguing that she could buy her own ticket Adrien insisted on getting it for her. She played truce and bought the snacks instead.

They followed the crowd into the theater. A few people stopped Ladybug to get some pictures or an autograph. Adrien patiently waited with the snacks as he scanned the room for good seats. It was surprisingly packed for such a late showing. “Uh Ladybug,” Adrien called for her attention, “I’m gonna go save us some seats so you come by whenever you’re done.”

“I’ll be right there. Thanks.” she gave him a thumbs up before going back to her fans. She really didn’t mind when fans came up to her, she was always honored, but she was here for a date. It didn’t feel right to let him go off on his own so she could take pictures.

The lights started to go down and she used that as her excuse to take her seat. She edged past the other theater goers and sat down in the chair next to Adrien. “Sorry about all that,” she whispered as the movie started, “You have my attention for the rest of the night. Promise.”

“Don’t worry. I totally get it. People stop me when I’m out with friends from time to time.” Adrien assured her. “I’m just glad to be here with you at all.”

Marinette blushed red hot and she found herself thankful for the dark theater. “I’m happy to be here with you too.”

The movie started in ernest and they drew their attention to it. Every once in a while she would catch him watching her instead of the movie or he would spot her staring at him. They’d quickly look away and smile, trying to keep their attention on what was happening on the screen. At one point she went to put her arm on the arm rest between them and nearly jumped out of her seat when she fully laid her hand overtop Adrien’s without noticing.

“Sorry,” Adrien blurted out but was quickly shushed by the audience, “sorry,” he whispered in a quieter voice, “you can have it.”

“No, no, you can have it--I just--”

“No. Really, I’ve been hogging it all night. You take it.”

“I don’t need it. Please, just take it--”

“One of you had better take it and shut up already.” someone behind them hissed.

“Sorry,” Ladybug squeaked. She moved to put her arm back and bumped into Adrien who was doing the same thing. They giggled for a moment. Then Adrien rested his arm on it with his palm facing up.

His eyes met hers with a shy, expectant smile. Oh! She bit her lip and laid her arm on top of his and interlaced their fingers together. Tonight was the best night ever just for this!

They stayed holding hands for the rest of the movie and when they got up to leave they were still interlocked. Neither wanted to let the connection break just yet. They walked out of the theater and into the cool night air.

“This was a lot of fun.” Ladybug said, “I’m glad you agreed to come out with me.”

“I’m still surprised you asked me out in the first place.” Adrien said, his gaze traveled down to their interlaced hands, “This was really nice.”

“Do you have a ride home?” Ladybug asked.

“No chauffeur tonight,” Adrien looked down the street then back at her, his voice dropping low to a whisper, “Between you and me, I’m not supposed to be out here.”

“How rebellious!” Ladybug scoffed, with a mock scandalized face, “Did you sneak out to come here tonight? I don’t know, Adrien. That’s top tier felon behaviour. I may have to turn you in.”

“Oh please, Ladybug, have mercy.” he pleaded with the same level of theatrics, “I meant no harm! Don’t send me to the slammer!”

“Oh alright,” Ladybug giggled, “I can’t throw a pretty face like yours in jail. You wouldn’t last ten minutes with all those other big bads. All those jaywalkers and litterbugs, they’d tear you apart.”

“You underestimate me, I could have control of the yard in five.”

“I bet you could.” she shook her head. “So since you don’t have a ride home did you need a lift? I can get you back lickety split.”

“How about instead of a lift you give me an escort.” Adrien asked, his big green puppy dog eyes blinking down at her, “As fun as the movie was I didn’t really get to talk to you which is the one thing I wanted to do most tonight.”

“How can I say no to that?” she squeezed his hand tighter, “I want to get to know you better too.”

They left the theater on foot back towards Adrien’s house. Neither had anywhere to be and no rush to end their date just yet so they kept the pace slow and let themselves take the long way around.

“Let me start simple,” Adrien said, “What is your favorite color?”

“Pink. But not like a hot neon pink, more of a soft sunset pink. What about you?”

“Blue. It’s just so relaxing to look at in almost all its forms. I think my favorite shade would have to be a soft sky blue though.”

“That’s nice. Alright, my question.” Ladybug pondered it for a moment, “What is your most treasured memory?”

“Wow. Starting off strong huh? I feel kinda ridiculous with my color question.”

“Don’t be. Sorry. I should have said something a little simpler, shouldn’t I?”

“No. I like your question. I just need to think about it. Gimme a second.” Adrien said as he started to think. He was really thinking this through. “I think my most treasured memory would be Christmas Eve when I was six.”

“Not Christmas morning?”

“The morning was great but I’ll never forget the night prior.” Adrien’s eyes took on a far away look, “It was as basic as Christmas Eve’s go. I wanted to stay up so I could meet Santa. My parents said that he wouldn’t come if I stayed up though and sent me off to bed. It was around midnight and I heard a noise coming from downstairs. I assumed it was Santa so I swung out of bed and raced out of my room to catch him before he could leave.

“I got down there and I found presents under the tree but no Santa. There was a light on in the kitchen and I figured he must be getting his milk and cookies. I go up to the door and push it open. There’s no Santa in the kitchen but there are my parents. My mom is sitting on the island munching on a gingerbread cookie, father is looking in the fridge, there’s quiet Christmas music playing on the radio next to them.

“My father closes the fridge and holds up a piece of mistletoe he must have hidden in there. Mom laughs and when he went in to kiss her she held up the gingerbread man so he kissed that instead. Father looked grumpy and bit the head off. Mom gasped and was all like, “I cannot believe you decapitated Mister Gingy! He had three kids you monster!” which made me laugh. Of course now they know I’m there and father picks me up and tells me I should be in bed and all that stuff. I wasn’t listening and instead I grabbed the mistletoe and held it up to mom. I meant it so my parents could kiss but instead they both kissed my cheeks instead. We stayed up for at least another hour eating cookies and drinking warm milk and hot coco before I fell asleep and they put me back to bed.”

“That is so cute!” Ladybug gushed, “I can see it all in my head. Squishy faced kiddie Adrien sneaking out of bed and eating cookies with his parents. That’s a really sweet memory.”

“I’ll never forget it.” Adrien sighed. For a moment he looked so sad and Marinette wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have asked him. The memory of his mom probably hurt to think about. “What about you? What’s your most treasured memory?”

Now that was a tough one. She couldn’t really go into childhood stories since it would give away too much as to her identity. It was then she thought of the perfect story. “There is one memory I hold really close to my heart.” she said.

“I was on patrol one evening by myself. It was raining but I didn’t want to go home cause I was going through some stuff emotionally and I didn’t want to be cooped up. So I’m running and running and I almost slip off the roof. I realize I should take a break so I huddle under this awning of this closed cafe to catch my breath and see if the rain lets up. I’m waiting for maybe five minutes and because I’m not moving my emotions from before I starting to catch up to me. I’m on the verge of breaking down when out of nowhere Chat Noir lands on the sidewalk in front of me. I say land but he more or less faceplanted. He has a box covered in a plastic bag to keep it dry that he’s holding off the ground. He pulls himself up like he didn’t just have an intimate meeting with the concrete and walks over to me like it is the most casual thing in the world. Now mind you, I was not expecting to see him. I didn’t tell him I was coming out here nor did he have any idea where I was but he found me nonetheless.

“He huddles under the awning with me and takes the plastic bag off the box. I realize at this point it is a wrapped present. I ask him what this is supposed to be for and he tells me that since we don’t know when each other’s birthdays are he was going to pick a random day to give me a birthday present. And apparently this rainy evening was that day. I tried telling he didn’t need to but he insisted so I take the present and unwrap it. When I tell you, this idiot actually gifted me a black cat onesie with a cat ear hood and little toe beans on the feet. I started laughing and asked if he had a matching ladybug onesie and he told me he did. I start laughing harder and I can tell he thinks that I’m laughing at him so I quickly assure him I’m not. I tell him I really love the gift and I give him a hug. To him he probably thinks that he just gave me a nice present but in reality he pulled me back from a really sad place without even knowing it.

“Of course the second I got home I put the onesie on and started thinking of a birthday present I could get for him. I wanted it to be perfect as a sort of thank you for cheering me up when I was in a really bad mood. I never told him just how much that one little present, that one encounter, helped me but it did. I like to think about it whenever I get in a bad mood. Remembering his mop of drenched hair and that big expectant smile never fails to cheer me up.”

When she looked back at Adrien he looked close to tears. “Oh hey, are you okay? Did I say something? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he wiped at his eyes with his free hand, “It’s just, your friendship with him is great. I think that the next time you see him you should tell him how much that meant to you. I’m sure it would make him really happy.”

“I think I will,”

They got to Adrien’s house and they both stood frozen on the sidewalk. “Guess it’s time to say goodbye now.”

“Guess so,” Adrien stared up at the tall stone walls. “All good thinks must come to an end.”

“There are always more good times to come though.” Ladybug said, “Speaking of which, would you be interested in going on a second date sometime?”

“I would love to.” Adrien answered with a bright smile. “How do I get a hold of you?”

“I’ll come to you.” she let go of his hand to wrap around his waist. With a flick of her wrist she sent her yo-yo up and pulled them off the ground. They swung into his room and she deposited him back down safely. “Goodnight, Adrien. I had a wonderful time and I’ll be by to see you again soon.”

“Goodbye Ladybug. Tonight was...it was perfect.” He leaned in closer or maybe it was Marinette that leaned in but one of them leaned in. Then just as quickly they withdrew. Arms hugged close to their sides.

“I should get going,” Ladybug stumbled back towards the window. She poised to throw her yo-yo but she made the mistake of taking one final look back at Adrien. He was watching her with such a soft and loving expression. She couldn’t just end it like this.

She rushed back to him and kissed his cheek. “See you later, bye!” she fully vaulted herself out the window the next instant and booked it as fast as she could back home. She dropped down onto her balcony. Her heart was beating fast and her face ached from how hard she was smiling.

---

(Part 1) (Previous) (Probably another part cause I know no self control and you people enable me)

[rachaelswrites]

Investigation

Part Two

Ransom Drysdale x daughter!reader

“Hey Mr. Benoit! There’s footprints here,”

Benoit quickly made his way over to you, crouching next to you. “Those are indeed prints. Good job Y/n. Stay off the path. We don’t want to mess them up,” 

You stood up and jumped over the path to the other side. Before the other two detectives could look and the prints, the dogs ran through the open gate. They ran right through the path, ruining the prints for sure. They ran back through when your grandparent’s car pulled into the driveway. 

“Elliot, Wagner, they have plans to read the will at ten,” Benoit said. Both detectives nodded and made their way towards the house. You and Benoit decided to look around some more. 

You reached the back of the house near the trellis. One of the dogs ran up to Benoit with a piece of wood. The dog dropped it at his feet. Upon closer inspection, he saw it was a broken piece from the trellis. He looked up, “Y/n, where does that window lead to,” he asked, pointing to the trick window at the top of the trellis. 

“It’s a trick window. It leads to the hallway to Harlan’s room and office,”

Benoit took off quickly and you followed. He went in through the back door. He passed Wagner and Elliot the two followed him up the stairs, “Y/n, show me where it leads. Take off your shoes and stay off the carpet,” 

You did as you were told and set your shoes by Benoit. You walked on the wooden floor next to the carpet. When you reached the door, you pulled it open, revealing the window from outside. “Well I’ll be,” Benoit breathed. He followed your path and looked at the carpet. “Look here Y/n. You see that?”

You crouched down and looked at the carpet, “Yeah. Doesn’t that just mean the carpet hasn’t been cleaned in a while?” You asked. 

“Yes but, I bet this mud here,” he pointed to the carpet, “will match the mud from there,” he pointed at the window still, “And the trellis,”

You got up and looked at the window, “so someone climbed up here to get to Harlan?” 

“Exactly. Someone did not want to be seen so they climbed the trellis to get to Harlan. Let’s go in his office really quick,” 

You stepped in his office and watched Benoit look around. You stayed by the window to let him do his work. He picked up the go-board and set it on the table, “Didn't Marta say her and Harlan knocked it over?” You asked. Benoit had filled you in on the rest of the family’s statements. 

“Yes she did,” he knocked the board to the floor, the way Marta said. The board didn’t make a sound loud enough to wake up Joni. Before you could say anything, a car pulled up in the driveway and a door slammed shut. You heard the dogs barking and looked out the window. It was your dad. He was putting his scarf on while trying to stop the dogs from jumping. 

“That’s my dad,” you said pointing out the window, “I know you guys have been trying to talk to him,” 

Benoit headed downstairs and you followed. You met Elliot and Wagner downstairs. They seem pissed and frustrated. Probably because of Ransom. 

Ransom appeared out of the kitchen, eating a pack of cookies. 

“Mr. Drysdale?” Benoit asked.

“CSI, KFC?” He said jokingly. He walked past the detectives. When he saw you he put his hand on your shoulder and started to walk with you to the family room. 

“Hey dad,” you said. 

“Hey sweetheart. Surprised you aren’t flashing a badge by now,” 

You rolled your eyes at him. You reached the family room and Ransom sat down on one of the chairs. You stood behind him,resting your arms on the back of it. 

“Hey Frannie, how about a cold glass of milk?” Ransom said. 

“Uh asshole. Not her name, not her job,” Meg responded, entering the room. 

“Oh hey Meg. How’s the SJW degree coming?” 

She rolled her eyes and sat down. Your dad turned to you and held up the pack of cookies for you to take. You shook your head. 

“So you don’t show up for the funeral but you show up early for the will reading,” Walt said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Richard asked. 

Walt went on a long rant about how Jacob overheard the fight with Harlan and your dad. There was a bit of arguing before Jacob finally managed to explain what he heard. “I was in the bathroom,” 

“Joylessly masturbating to pictures of dead deer,” you mumbled under your breath. You thought only your dad could hear you but Richard, who was standing next to you heard and laughed. Walt must’ve heard as well. 

“You wanna go skippy?” He stood up and went after Richard. Apparently he was more upset at Richard’s reaction than your joke. 

The two brother-in-laws had to be pried off of each other. 

Ransom laughed, “We gotta do this more often,”

There was an awkwards silence while everybody composed themselves. You zoned out while Walt went on another long rant. He did this quite often and it was never of any interest to you. The thing that peeked your interest again was your grandmother’s voice, “Ransom. Did Harlan tell you he was cutting you and Y/n out of the will?” 

Your dad looked around at the family. His eyes landed on you last, “Yup,” he said popping the P. 

You looked at him in disbelief. Why would Harlan leave you out? Harlan wanted to make sure you got out of the family and did your own thing. You were also shocked Ransom didn’t tell you. How could he keep something like that a secret from you. You stormed out of the room, brushing past Benoit. 

Benoit knew how close you were and he felt bad, so he followed you, making sure you were ok.

Ransom mentally kicked himself. He should’ve told you sooner. He would have to talk to you later. There’s no way you were going to talk to him anytime soon. Right now, he’d have to deal with the verbal abuse from the rest of the family. 

You sat down on one of the benches on the back porch. You put your head in your hands and tried to hold in your tears. You felt betrayed by the only two people in this family you could trust. Benoit sat down on the chair across from you. 

“I’m guessing your father didn’t tell you about the will?” 

“Of course he didn’t,” you looked up from your hands, “Why would I have expected him to. He says I should trust him but he does stuff like this. I don’t get it,” you stood up and started pacing, your anger was now boiling over, “I mean, he tells me all the time he doesn’t want me to be like him but he lies to me! How am I not supposed to be like him? If I’m surrounded by deception my whole life I’m statistically more prone to that type of behavior. There’s so many studies on environmental and social impacts on development,”

Benoit listened intently to your rant. His heart broke for you. He didn’t want to see you sucked into the lifestyle of the rest of the family. Before he could console you, Elliot motioned for you two to come back in for the will reading. 

“Well I’m sure he had his reasons but we should head in for the readin’,”

You nodded and followed him back into the house. 

[thiswasinevitableid]

17 chosen and 20 lunar for Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go!

Lieutenants Log, stardate 10015, Joseph Stern recording

We’ve finally arrived at an agreement with the Aquariads, the species who control this moon. They will allow our research team unfettered access to the planet, but at an odd price. They requested one of our crew agree to be married off to a high ranking member of their governing council. 

I suspect, but cannot prove, that this is not a desirable being to be married to. He’s a revered seer, and yet they’re willing to couple him to a human and not one of their own? Suspicious.

Myself and the other single members of the crew were all given extensive questionnaires on everything from our sexual preferences to our daily habits. It took me a good hour and a half to finish it. 

After a full earth day of waiting, we received word that chief astrobotanist Duck Newton was the chosen human. I have no idea how this happened, as Duck has little tolerance for what he views as “woo-woo” things like precognition. But he was chosen all the same. 

Because this is Duck, he grumbled a bit, but cheered up when he learned he would only be required to stay with his new husband for three weeks before joining us on our field word, and that we can send him specimens for identification and research. If we decide Aquaria is the planet we’ve been looking for and establish more permanent research stations here, Duck will be expected to spend at least a few days a month with the seer. Mama made it clear that if the idea was truly not something he could agree to, she would call the deal off and we could try another approach. Duck said that wouldn’t be necessary, and that he could think of far worse things they could have asked of us. 

We deposit him at the seers home tomorrow. After that, we begin our exploration of Aquaria, fourth moon of the plant Oceana and (hopefully) the home of the antidote we’ve been searching for. 

Joseph Stern, Lieutenant on the spaceship Amnesty, signing off.

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

Duck waves to the skiff as it pulls away, his planetside bag slung over his shoulder. There’s only one way to go; down the single stone levee, decorated with beautiful tiles, to the massive mansion at the end. 

It reminds him of the photos of Venice he’s seen in old National Geographics, beautiful buildings floating atop a planet of water. He knows Aquaria has islands, but the majority of it’s cities are on or near the water because most of its residents live beneath the waves. They remind Duck of mermaids, with scaled tails and fins giving way to humanoid upper bodies and faces. As far as creatures to get politically married off to, he could be staring down worse. 

There’s still the problem of not knowing why this mer is off by himself and without a partner. Or, as becomes obvious once Duck is inside, any company at all. The other high-ranking aquariads they’ve met come with miles of attendants; here there’s only the high, curved ceilings and rippling water. Maybe the guy is shy? Or maybe he’s a dick? Or just real fucking scary to look at?

As he walks further into the house, he notices the tiled walls are covered in striking murals that, when coupled with the odd half-light allowed in by the green glass windows, makes him feel as though he’s wandering through a dream. The pools and canals criss-cross the floor, and really the ground is more water than concrete, the fact he’s able to walk at all is a concession to the fact some aquariads evolved to be land dwelling. 

A splash makes him turn, and in the pool to his right a black fin cuts the water. He steels himself to not insult the alien he’s now legally attached to. The figure rises from the water, setting his arms on the edge of the stony floor and Duck steps back as a wide, toothy smile appears in an angular face. 

“Hello, Duck Newton.” His tail is the same black as his fin, and his silver hair is tucked behind ears of the same color, which Duck has learned can fan out as a way of communicating. 

“Uh, hi. You must be-”

“Indrid Cold, yes. Apologies, a peril of my profession is that I will always be a little bit ahead.”

“Right. So, uh, guess we’re gonna be seein a lot of each other the next couple of weeks.” He aims for a joking, nonchalant tone. 

“Yes, as we’re married.” He cocks his head, confused, then grins brighter, “Oh, oh I see, you are attempting levity because this is all very awkward. I, ah, I appreciate that. Here, let me show you where you’ll be staying” Indrid pushes off the wall, swimming gracefully on his back as Duck follows him down the hall. The center of the house has more skylights, allowing him to see that his host’s fins aren’t pure black; small silver and white dots are scattered across it. He wonders if he could find constellations in them.

“Here we are.” Indrid gestures to a room, one where the only water is in the form of two deep blue half-circles on the left and right walls. The center of the room is a large bed, linens gleaming whites and pale greens, and the skylight nestles against a chandelier of finely detailed rosey glass. 

“Holy shit.” Duck sets his bag down on a trunk near the door.

“Do you like it?” A flash of yellow up Indrid’s fin, echoed in the dots on his tail.

“I mean, anythin looks ritzy after months on a spaceship but” he turns, smiles, “yeah, I do. Thanks for giving me such nice digs.”

“You are most welcome. Now, this room is designed to give guests privacy. See that red panel on the wall? If you press it, it opens the pool on that side up to the rest of the house, allowing myself or servants to come in and help you.”

“So you do have staff.”

“They’re, ah, more like errand folk. None live here.” Indrid clears his throat, “I can show you the rest of the house, although if you need to sleep I can let you be. I am, ah, not entirely clear on where your internal clock sits now.”

“Aquaria’s days are about four days longer than earth’s, so I ain’t too thrown off. Happy to see more of the place.”

Indrid nods, and Duck follows him out of the bedroom. Most of the other rooms they pass are sparse squares of walkways and still water, under which lies the parts of the house Indrid uses. When they reach Indrid’s quarters, he spots what looks to be an artists’ studio under the clear blue water. 

“You paint?” He kneels and peers down for a better look, Indrid bobbing nearby. 

“Indeed. Art helps me make sense of my visions, and I enjoy it besides. In fact, all the murals you see in this house are my doing. There are even more under water.”

“Damn, that’s fuckin incredible. If I get my SCUBA gear rigged up, maybe I can get a tour?”

“Scu--oh, yes, an underwater breathing apparatus. We have a much smaller device that can help you breathe and sea down here” he dips his head at the pool, “unfortunately, the one I commissioned for you will not arrive until close to the end of your stay. They, ah, did not give me much time to prepare. Hence the lack of many comforts I might otherwise give, as well as places for you to and I to talk, eat or do, ah, other activities together.” The yellow intermittently flashing up his fin gives way to a burst of pink. 

Oh, right. Duck pulls up his infopad (given a generous waterproofing treatment prior to his leaving Amnesty) and opens the contract he signed. 

“Yeah. About that. Says here they expect us to, uh, ‘consummate’ the marriage.”

“I’m aware” Indrid’s voice creeps up.

“Do you...wanna do that now?” He spins a finger in the water.

“I, ah, I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, seems like we could just get it outta the way, rather than have the fact we gotta fuck someone we didn’t pick hangin over our heads?” 

“This...this is not at all how I wanted this to go.” 

Duck looks up and immediately wishes he could reverse time; Indrid looks genuinely hurt, ears flicked back like a scolded dog. 

“Duck I, ah, well, you did not choose me, that is true. But I chose you.”

“Well, fuck.” He sits down with a heavy sigh, “figured some big wigs used those surveys to pick me out. Guess what they say about assumin things is true.”

“.....”

“It makes an ass outta you and me?”

Indrid blinks, then snickers, “Your humor is part of why I chose you. It is very bad, but also extremely good.”

“Glad you think so. Pretty sure Mama was ready to blow me out the airlock for some of the ones I made on the way here.” He knows he’s dodging the conversation they should be having, but how the fuck is he supposed to respond when an alien mermaid tells him he picked him to be his husband?

Indrid swims over so he can rest his arms and chin on the stone, glancing shyly up at Duck as he says, “I suppose I also made an ass of myself, as you would say, by assuming you would not see this as an obligation.”

“I mean, even if you chose me, don’t this feel like an obligation to you?”

“No. For me, it is a reminder that most of my kind are too afraid of me to even give me a chance to court them. And that the council thinks I will get into too much trouble without someone to distract me now and then, and decides the company I am worthy of is an alien explorer with no interest in me.”

“I mean, the only reason we agreed to this is because there might be a plant on Aquaria that can treat the illness runnin rampant back home. So at least it’s for a good cause?”

Indrid flicks his ears, red running up his fin, “What you are doing is noble. What I am doing is being used as a way to keep your exploration team in line.”

Duck winces, “Fuck, I’m, uh, I’m just gonna stop talkin now.”

For an agonizing five minutes they sit there in silence, contemplating their situation and stealing glances at each other. Duck always tried to do the right thing, tried to live an honest life and treat the people in it with respect. He’s been kind and polite to beings up and down the galaxy. He can extend some of that to his own husband, can’t he?

“Indrid?”

The alien raises his head.

“Can we start over?”

“Yes. But I do not see how-”

Duck holds out his hand, “Name’s Duck. Thanks for invitin me in and lookin after me the few weeks.”

Indrid’s smile widens as he understands the game, and he takes the human’s hand, “A pleasure to meet you. I am Indrid, seer to the court of Aquaria, and your anxious husband in spite of the now-changing, much more pleasant futures.”

They finish their tour, the humid air less stifling in the wake of their confessions. Indrid shows him the kitchen, the sitting room, and the gardens which, to Duck’s delight, are as much above the water as below. 

After that, Indrid excuses himself to attend to seer duties and Duck goes back to his room to unpack. As he’s putting away his toothbrush and razor near a large, elaborate tub carved from golden stone, one of Indrid’s admissions from earlier floats through his mind, bobbing there like a buoy until he gets a chance to ask it.

When they’re in the gardens, Duck taking notes as Indrid dives and surfaces with new things to show him, the human slips his feet into the water and says, “Indrid? You said my offerin to fuck you wasn’t what you wanted. What, uh, what did you want?” 

The alien blinks, slowly, pink and teal flashing in his tail, “It is a bit silly in retrospect, but since I knew we would not have time for a proper human marriage courtship, I thought I could mimic the process leading to a one night stand; that way you would be romanced in a manner that made you both comfortable with me and the concept of sex with a relative stranger.” 

Duck chuckles, “Always wild to find out how human stuff gets interpreted by the rest of the galaxy. How’d you even come up with what you were gonna do?”

Indrid crosses his arms, mock affronted, “I will have you know I have seen a great deal of human media, courtesy of our minister of defense.”

“Oh yeah?” Duck shifts onto his stomach, sends a small splash Indrid’s way, “what was this night gonna involve, then?”

“Food, dim and therefore, apparently, romantic lighting, dancing to sensual music, and then hopefully some kissing.” The pink in his tail intensifies, “and then working out exactly how to have sex human.”

The mixture of enthusiasm and being utterly out of his element charms Duck to no end; not to mention it’s the most thought someone’s put into a hook-up with him in the last three years. 

“Seems to me you got the gist of it. Though I really wanna know what you picked out for ‘sensual music.’”

A playful glint enters Indrid’s glowing eyes, “I will show you, but we must go through the whole evening, otherwise it will seem like a disjointed choice. With, ah, with the understanding that you are not obligated to kiss me at the end.

“You got a deal.”

“Wonderful” Indrid claps his hands together, “wait right here.”

Indrid disappears in a whoosh of black and silver. When he returns, he hoists six opaque domes onto the floor in front of Duck, “I initially planned to eat in the sitting room, but you like this room much better, so we can have dinner here.” With that, he double-taps the top of each dome, revealing a confusing buffet. 

“Uh, are those french fries?”

“Yes. You are from the United States of America, and so I chose foods that would make you feel at home.” Indrid points to each plate in turn, “french fries, steak, a turkey with cranberries, lobster, macaroni with cheese, and an apple pie.”

The pie is covered with an odd, yellow meringue, the turkey is the size of a quail, and the black shell suggests this is not a kind of lobster he’s eaten before, but Duck can’t stop smiling.

“Also I took care to be sure none of the necessary substitutions were poisonous to you.”

“Thanks, Indrid.” He means it; in their travels they’ve learned it’s not only humans who think everyone lives and eats exactly the way they do.

Everything except the french fries tastes strange but he finds the meal, like it’s orchestrator, intriguing in it’s oddity. Indrid brings two cool, white bottles from below, offers Duck tastes of each. One is like the celery soda he drank on a dare, the other like root beer if it wasn’t gross. He keeps the second one next to him as the meal progresses, Indrid asking him all kinds of questions about botany and himself. When dinner is over, Indrid guides him two rooms over, grinning excitedly. 

“I will start the music; one moment.” 

A few seconds after he dives, a chrome cylinder descends from the ceiling and music fills the air.

Ninety-nine red balloons

Floating in the summer sky

Panic bells, it's red alert!

There's something here from somewhere else!

He giggles, sits down so it’s easier to call, “Indrid? Not sure you got the right song bud.”

A silver-haired head pops up, “Not romantic?”

“Nope.”

“Hmmmm” He lifts a small, white rectangle and the song changes. 

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

He's in the army now, a blowin' reveille

He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B

“N-not quite” The laugh is stronger now.

“Drat. How about….”

I threw a wish in the well, don't ask me, I'll never tell

I looked to you as it fell and now you're in my way 

Indrid looks hopefully at him.

“Ain’t what I’d call sensual, but you’d hear it at the kind of place you’d pick up a date.”

The alien beams, starts shifting back and forth to the beat, “shall we dance?”

Duck blushes, pretends he doesn’t know why, “Uh, probably should have said this earlier, but I ain’t much of a dancer.”

Indrid swims to him, stopping close enough that Duck can see the lines on his face that reveal they’re close in age, “That’s alright. Sometimes conversing while having a drink is acceptable behavior, correct?”

“Yeah.” Duck doesn’t bother to hide how intently he’s watching as Indrid dives, his form elegant and ethereal beneath the water. 

They sit sipping a hard cider that tastes of papaya and flowers instead of apples until the three other moons glow bright in the skylight. Duck yawns, and excuses himself for the night. 

“Thanks for a great evenin, Indrid.”

“You are most welcome. A pity I could not make the music work.”

He’s here for another three weeks at least. And Indrid is floating through the darkening water like a dream he’s tempted to chase.

“Guess you’ll just have to try again.” Duck winks. 

Indrid’s ears frill slightly and he flashes bright purple, “Yes, my dear husband, I suppose I will.” 

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

Duck’s routine is not the one he usually has while docked on a planet. Every day for the last week, he wakes up, joins Indrid for a leisurely swim, works on his research, and then spends his evening with a weirdly cute alien trying to accurately recreate the earth dating experience for him. 

The second night, he asked if Indrid would bring him some of his favorites for their next meal. The steamed coconut crab was a hit. The mantis-squid served still swimming, less so. From then on, when Indrid put in his food orders to the cooks at the main court, it was for a mixture of earth and Aquariad dishes, each one leading him or Indrid to share an anecdote from their time on their home planet. 

For the last two nights, he’s lifted the partitions on the pools in his room so Indrid can talk with him until neither of them can keep their eyes open. He wonders if it would be rude to ask him to stay, to sleep in such a small space just so he could be the first thing Duck sees when he wakes up.

There must be floating beds he could put in Indrid’s room, or maybe a hammock he could hang in the garden. 

Duck now understands that Indrid’s powers make him politically valuable, but also mean his fellow residents of the lunar city see him as dangerous, as knowing things they’d rather keep secret. Duck understands, especially if their only time encountering the seer is when he glides his formidable, dark body from the depths of his inner sanctum. But all he can see is his Indrid, awkward and well-meaning, whose fear of Duck disliking him has given way to genuine affection. His Indrid, who now pulls himself up onto the stones so they can sit shoulder to shoulder after breakfast or before dinner, whose tail Duck’s fingers beg to caress. 

His Indrid who is, at this moment, continuing his losing battle with earth music. 

“How about this?”

Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen

Thank you for all the joy and pain

“Oh fuck no” Duck guffaws, “anything but him, ‘Drid, he’s a boner killer if there ever was one.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad,  but I will be speaking to Vincent about his human music suggestions.”

“For the love of god, turn it off.” Duck flails for the remote.

Indrid sticks out his tongue, “Very well, but I am this close to pulling you down here and seeing if you can do any better.”

“You wouldn’t dare” Duck is still laughing, eyes closing as he does, which means he gets only a splash of warning before he’s yanked into the pool. He comes up giggling and spluttering, “now, is that any way to treat your husband?”

Indrid’s laugh is a siren song, “No, I suppose not.” The music clicks off as Indrid steadies him by curving his tail behind his legs, “how should I treat you instead?”

Duck drapes his arms over Indrid’s shoulders, “You been treatin me pretty damn well, dunkin me aside.”

A flicker of pink and yellow as Indrid rubs their cheeks together, “And if I wanted to be even better?”

“I, uh, I mean if you wanted to we could tryYYYYohfuck” he hunches forward as Indrid’s tail drags across his dick. The clothing on Aquaria is thin, so he can feel the cool scales tease his skin. 

“Oh, oh dear, apologies, I was only trying to embrace you further, I forgot yours do not stay concealed until they’re needed.”

“You, you keep doin that and it’s gonna be needed real quick.”

“Oh?” red eyes narrow wickedly, “does my sweet husband need attending to?” Another drag of his tail, much more deliberate, and Duck grinds his hips in reply. 

“Only if you want to.”

“I do, so very badly.” Indrid nuzzles his nose, “may I take a little while to acquaint myself with your wonderful body?”

“Uh huh.” Duck tugs his shirt off, throwing it onto the land and then giving his shorts the same treatment. 

“Ohhhhhhyes.” Indrid purrs, fins and tails shimmering purple and gold. Then he sinks down, swimming in a slow, tight circle around the human. Pleased chirps and trills bubble up to Duck’s ears. Cool fingers play along his legs and belly, eventually finding his dick and offering an experimental stroke.

“Fuck” he groans, and Indrid does it again, kissing his navel as both hands rub and tease his dick and folds. Indrid is clearly experimenting, maybe even using his visions to guide him, and Duck eagerness to get off succumbs to just how fucking hot it is to have a partner this enrapt by his body, to have them explore it like some awe-inspiring landscape. 

He spreads his hands out and runs them along Indrid’s torso and tail; the scales are just as wonderful under his fingers as he hoped, and he can feel Indrid sigh happily as he pets him. 

Then lips close around his dick and he makes a series of undignified noises, digging one hand into Indrid’s hair to encourage him. 

“Ohmyfuckinchrist, Indrid, yes, fuck please keep suckin like that.”

Indrid wiggles his whole body in response, happy trill underscored by a firmer suck. Duck can’t get enough of his body beneath his hands, of his mouth on Duck’s skin, and he wonders if someone can black out from how good a blowjob feels. 

Indrid’s fin breaks the water and Duck runs an appreciative thumb along the top. Funny, there’s a little depression between it and the membrane of the fin. Curious, he drags his pinky along it. 

The alien bursts upwards with a loud chirp of joy, “Ohgoodness, yes, oh that feels nice please do it again.”

“Yeah? My cute, needy husband need me to play with his fins to get off.”

“Not, not technically by my gods does he want you to.”

“Don’t worry darlin, I will--uh, ‘Drid? Is, is that your dick?”

Indrid follows his gaze to the thick, bumpy shaft emerging from his tail, it’s tip crowned with short, searching tendrils.

“Yes. Also an ovipositor, hence those lumps.”

“Holyfuck. Uh, I, I ain’t sure I’m ready for that yet.” 

“That’s perfectly alright. Though it does mean my cock is not going into you tonight; I’m not sure I can control my bodily responses enough to avoid ovipositing accidentally.”

“Lots of others things we can do.” Duck bites the tip of one ear, making the other flare out.

“Indeed. I say we start with this.” Indrid’s tail encircles his waist just as Indrid shoves his cock between his thighs.

“Like, like the way you think sugar. Fuuuck, fuck that’s good.” The bumps from the eggs have just the right amount of give as he humps them, Indrid matching his tempo with his thrusts. He keeps his arms around his husbands neck, kissing him furiously. Indrid kisses back with a chirp, gold flashing in his scales, and Duck knows he won’t want to kiss anyone else for a long, long time. 

The tip of Indrid’s cock bumps his ass and he groans at what that suggests about it’s size. 

“I’m, I’m takin this fuckin perfect thing all the way before I go.” He bucks his hips harder to make his point, “gonna let you fuck me open on it, fill me up, wanna know what it’s like to cum with you inside me.”

“Oh gods” Indrid whimpers, hiding his face in Ducks neck as he squeezes his thighs together. 

“And, and you’re gonna be a dutiful fuckin husband and fill me however I say, ain’t you?”

“Yes, yesofcourse, goodness Duck I, I’m-”

“Heh, you like that, mr high and mighty seer likes bein bossed around. Well, lucky you, because now that I know just how fuckin good you are at fuckin me, gonna have you doin it ever, fuckin, day.” He jerks his hips hard, three times, and Indric cums with a cry, cock pulsing as he sinks his teeth into Ducks shoulder. Duck doesn’t let up, chases his orgasm over the bumps and ridges until he nearly whites out with pleasure, clinging to Indrid tighter as his body gives up on supporting him. 

After his cock retracts Indrid, still holding Duck up with ease, swims to the button that orders a cleaning cycle on the pool and deposits the human back on the stone. 

“I dearly hope your team finds what you need on this planet so that I may see you beyond these few weeks.”

“Sex was that good?” Duck teases, petting Indrid’s hair as he lays his head in his lap.

“No. Or, well, yes, but more than that you are so, so very wonderful. I wish to get to know you more, to show you even more of my world and my skill in bed.”

Duck kisses the top of his head, “I hope so too.”

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

Communication log between leader of Amnesty Mission at Astrobotanist Duck Newton. 

Mama: Got some promising leads. Will be back to pick you up in three days. 

Duck: Glad to hear it. But take your time, no need to rush only my account. 

[lakemojave]

Land of Falling Sun 4

It wasn’t dust after all.

The smoke formed a thick haze that rendered the travelers blind to the horizon ahead. Flakes of ash hung in the air, carrying a thick and foul odor of fire and decay. Somewhere in this flat, lifeless wasteland, something was burning in a great and terrible mass. Chipper had a sharper nose, and guessed it was likely a brush fire, and a big one. The wanderer briefly and privately entertained the notion that if there was enough plant matter to burn out here, then there was likely a great deal of life which he simply hadn’t given thought to.

He didn’t give Chipper much thought for most of the way; they were talented at spotting desert critters to refill their rations, and their magical talent was invaluable to their water supply. In this moment though, he had never been more grateful than to have his winged companion beside him, clearing the smoke with every beat of their wings. Dog was being pleasantly quiet as well, but still hadn’t taken to speaking only when addressed.

It was midnight now. The full moon shone bright in the sky which enveloped the landscape in brilliant shades of red and orange. It was hard to see through the smoke, as was the setting sun itself. In fact, around this time the travelers noticed how hard it was to see anything at all. It was dark, almost uncharacteristically so. The smoke was thick indeed, but not enough to blot out the moon or suns. A great shadow hung over the travelers, but they hadn’t the faintest idea what cast it.

The wanderer turned his gaze up slightly, up and towards the distance. “Hey lil’ fella,” he asked, “How big does the fauna get out here?”

“Hmmm...well the sand rats can get pretty big.” They gestured their talons to suggest the size of the largest sand rat they’d seen. “But I’ve never seen anything I’d call...colossal, if that’s what you mean.”

“It is.” The wanderer eased up a bit. “I’ve seen big, nasty things in other country. Would hate to run into some of them out here.” Chipper looked to their companion with trepidation, disturbed by the image of whatever beast he could be describing.

“Might be a cloud? Really big mountain?” They spread their wings and deepened their voice. “Really big bird?” They chuckled and resumed flying, clearly amused with themself. The wanderer hid his smirk. Then a thought occurred to him.

“Wait,” he asked, “You’re not actually from this country are you?” He shot Chipper an inquisitive glance, who returned it with a bashful, withdrawn look of their own. The wanderer grew concerned. “How’d you wind up out here?”

“I got chased,” they said. They looked straight ahead. “Can we focus?”

The wanderer shrugged and looked on as well. No need to pry.

The pair traveled in silence for a while longer. Dog remained silent, its nose keen and attentive for any signs of life it might pick up through the haze. The shadow that spread over the desert completely enveloped their surroundings, shading them from the heat of the sun. Soon, the smoke gradually cleared up ahead. Past the layer of fog, the pair could see a wall of solid rock, rising far above the desert floor. They looked up, and couldn’t see an end, but it appeared to be a sheer cliff face.

Up ahead, there was a trail.

----

The trail was narrow, barely enough to fit Dog’s six hooves. Chipper would perch on Dog’s hind to rest their wings, which they wrapped around the wanderer’s stomach for safety. Dog’s hoof would sometimes trip along the trail’s edge, dislodging small rocks and sending them plummeting to the ground.

Chipper and the wanderer came to a turnaround, putting the cliff face to their left. The trail was slightly steeper now. The wanderer ducked to avoid a branch that protruded from the cliff, and leaned forward to avoid its swipe as he passed. A few paces later, he looked back curiously. Chipper looked up at him much the same. “You alright?”

“Funny,” he said. “They’re showin’ up more often now.” He kept his gaze behind him, furrowing his brow, as though attempting to decipher some mystery he desperately lacked the information needed to understand.

“Yeah, so?” Chipper asked.

“I dunno. Just more plants than I’ve gotten used to.”

“Think there’s more at the uh...top?” They seemed to question whether there even was a top. By now they were so high that the smoke had thinned significantly, and the stench had mostly passed.

“By my guess, and by our luck,” the wanderer answered, “There will either be a bounty of plants and fertile ground and paradise and whatnot--the likes of which we’ve never seen--or an even shittier desert.” He spurred Dog on a little faster, who then picked up its pace slightly. “Either way, we’ll be there, and everything behind us’ll be long gone. That’s gotta do.”

“It will do, until the desert itself becomes yet another regret.”

“Can it, Dog.”

“When do I get to talk to him?”

“It. And you don’t.”

“Give them time, sir. Give them time.”

The wanderer groaned, and then coughed after groaning a little too hard.

----

The next day, as the traveling sun rose from the northern horizon, the travelers spent time resting in a small cavity in the cliff face, wide enough for all three to sit comfortably. The wanderer rested his back against Dog’s body, and Chipper lay flat on the ground, stretching out their back. As they stretched their wings and cracked their sore back, the wanderer pulled out some clippers and a mirror, and began trimming his beard.

Dog had picked up the scent of a cliff hound the day before. Following the trail brought them to the source: this cave. Dealing with cliff hounds was straightforward, as long as you could track them to their dens and corner them properly. Chipper and Dog approached the cave entrance quietly, then blocked it while the wanderer went in with his knife. He knew to close the distance quickly, stop short of its tail stinger, then dodge right, since cliff hounds are dominant to their right legs and will attack with them first. After dodging towards the attack, it’s best to attack below the jaw, as the skin is easy to penetrate, and a proper stab will go directly into the brain.

The wanderer skinned the feathery creature, then cooked the meat over a fire circle. This relieved him significantly; his arm was beginning to ache severely, and if he didn’t perform any Work soon, the pain would be debilitating. Chipper continued to hold off questions about the state of the wanderer’s arm, or the rest of his skin he neglected to reveal. Yes, it tortured Chipper’s curious mind not to investigate, but they wished to respect their mutual privacy. The soot--or tar as it looked in the circle--was connected to his talent, and that was sufficient.

Their food, water, and shelter accounted for, the travelers enjoyed the first true respite of their journey. The smoke was still rising up the cliff in light wisps, but the smell had passed. The wanderer heard a breeze, but felt nothing when he stepped outside of the cave. “The sound of wind across the desert plain,” said Dog, “But above us. I know the sound well. We are climbing a great plateau, and will soon be at the top.”

The wanderer looked back to Dog, saying nothing, but nodding once. Dog still upset him in a way he couldn’t quite describe, but he understood and respected the beast’s intelligence.

Chipper was feeling good enough to fly again, and sat down to untangle their hair. The wanderer kneeled behind them and brushed their hair in his hands.

----

That night, as the traveling sun set, the setting sun gingerly hung low in the sky, and the moon shone bright, the travelers approached the apex of their climb. Their spirits were rejuvenated, pleased to be out of the valley; yet, they were anxious and on guard, undetermined whether this would be the end of their journey or its beginning.

The trail curved inwards, towards the top of the plateau and easing significantly. There was room for the wanderer to spur Dog to a gallop, and it happily picked up speed, kicking a cloud of dust in its wake. Chipper flapped their wings and tucked in their legs, flying at full speed alongside their mounted friend. Their hearts raced.

They came to the top of the plateau. It was vast, dry, painted in a vivid red and orange soil. The landscape stood dotted with cacti and desert trees, and in the distance they could hear the sounds of birds. The travelers could finally see the setting sun again, and felt the kiss of its warm rays from all the way across this new world. It was another desert, but full of life--and unlike the valley below, it was life they could see.

Up ahead, close on the horizon, Chipper saw what looked like buildings. Rising up among them was a tower of smoke.

[queenofspades20]

Leave Him for Me

So this is my first fic. This is part of @evnscvll 3k challenge. I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always welcome. This is just over 6.9k words.

Pairings: Tattoo!Artist Bucky x Lawyer!Reader; Brock Rumlow x Reader

Summary: Bucky is Reader’s new neighbor. She’s a prosecutor dating Brock. She and Bucky become friends and Bucky wants more. 

Warnings: some angst, some fluff, some curse words, cheating (not reader), Brock being the jerk that he is. Words in italics are inner thoughts of characters.

Y/N was awoken by the sound of something dropping on the floor of the apartment above her. “What…” she wondered. Her dog, a 65 pound mixed-breed named Harley, jumped up and ran out of the room. “You’re ok, Bubba. No need to freak,” she said, as she looked at her phone. *7:10 a.m.* “Seriously?” Y/N whined. “They couldn’t wait 5 damn minutes more???”

Y/N figured she might as well get up for work and turned off her alarm. After brushing her teeth and hair, putting on a little bit of makeup, and getting dressed, Y/N grabbed the dog leash hanging on a hook by the front door. “Come on, Little Bear. Time for your walk.” Harley made a big show of stretching before walking over to her and allowing her to put his harness and leash on. Grabbing her keys and bag dispenser, Y/N and Harley walked outside. As they passed by the patio, there was a crash from the unit above.

A masculine voice came from the open sliding glass door, “Come on, Sam. Don’t drop the couch! I kind of need it! Besides, it’s probably terrorizing my new neighbor downstairs.”

“Oh my God, you’re so dramatic. I’m sure your neighbor is fine,” responded another voice.

Y/N laughed to herself. She hesitated for half a second before yelling out, “Actually, as she’s awake and outside with her dog, feel free to get any crashes done now.” Y/N heard scrambling from inside the apartment and a man with chestnut brown hair and the most striking blue eyes Y/N had ever seen popped his head over the railing. “Sorry if we woke you,” the man said bashfully. “I’m Bucky. I guess I’m your new neighbor. And this knucklehead is Sam, my sometimes friend and my new boss.” He gestured to the man standing next to him. The man smiled and waved. “Hello there.”

Y/N smiled, gave a little nod, and waved back. “I’m Y/N. And this little fluffernutter is Harley. Nice to meet you both.”

Bucky smiled back. “Nice to meet you two as well. Harley is a beautiful dog, though he’s got nothing on his owner’s beauty.”

Y/N felt her face heat up at the compliment. Damn, that was smooth, she thought to herself. “Um, thanks.” Y/N caught a glance at her watch and the time. “With that, I do need to get him walked and get to work. It was nice to meet you. If you need anything, feel free to stop by.”

Bucky smiled and winked. “I’ll keep that in mind. See you around, Y/N.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling too wide. I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend. She thought to herself. “Bye, Bucky. Sam.” She nodded at the men and continued her walk with Harley, who had sat down during the exchange in boredom. “Okay, Bubba, I’m done talking. We can walk again.” Harley jumped up and happily walked to go sniff at all the trees in the area.

When Y/N got to work, she ran into her best friend. “So, I got a new neighbor finally.” Wanda perked up and started firing questions. “Is it a man? Is he hot? Is he single? We need to set you up.”

“Uh, ma’am, I have a boyfriend. What do you mean ‘set me up’?”

Wanda rolled her eyes. “You’ve been dating Brock for 3 months, you haven’t said ‘I love you’ to each other, and he’s garbage.”

“He’s a lawyer. He’s not garbage.”

“He not garbage because he’s a lawyer. Bitch, you’re a lawyer and you’re not garbage. Brock is garbage because he puts down like everything you like. He makes fun of your love of Disney, he barely acknowledges you in public, and he’s awkward with Harley. That alone should be a deal-breaker.”

“Yes, he’s awkward with Harley, but he isn’t mean with him. And to be fair, Harley is awkward with pretty much everyone, except me. And the acknowledging in public: we work together. He doesn’t want people to gossip. Hell, I don’t want people to gossip. And I mean, my love of Disney can be a bit childish.”

“Girl, it is not. You enjoy something that brings back good memories. He shouldn’t make you feel guilty for enjoying something that doesn’t harm anyone.”

Y/N hesitated. “I guess.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“You’re ignoring red flags. You deserve someone who makes you feel confident in the relationship. Not someone who tears you down. You’re a successful prosecutor. You’ve argued in the state supreme court, multiple times. You own your home. You have an awesome dog. You don’t need a loser like Brock.”

Y/N sighed. “Whatever. I need to get to court. I’ll check ya later.”

Y/N walked to her assigned courtroom. As she doubled-checked her docket to verify which cases were up, a shadow fell on the table. “Hi, Y/N.”

Y/N looked up. “Hey, Brock. You have cases in here today?”

Brock smiled and leaned closer to her ear. “No,” he whispered. “I just wanted to see my girlfriend. But while I’m here, haven’t I told you that you shouldn’t wear such a bold lipstick? It makes you look a bit… cheap.”

Y/N felt the smile fall off her face and tensed up. “Well, Brock, I like red lipstick. I think it looks good.”

“I’m just trying to help. You don’t need to be so defensive.” Brock rolled his eyes.

“I’ll see you later, Brock. We still on for dinner?”

Brock looked at his phone. “Actually, I have some work I need to get done. Let’s do it another night.”

Y/N tried to hide her disappointment. This was the third time in the past two weeks that Brock had rescheduled dinner because of work. She knew what his workload was like because they were in similar divisions, but it seemed like work had come up a lot for him. “You promised that you’d make up for cancelling three nights ago. That’s what tonight was about.”

“You’re always hounding me, Y/N. We have an important job. I need to get work done. We’ll just do it another night. It’s not that serious. You’re so moody today. Is it your time of the month or something?”

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment. I am a prosecutor. I cannot punch someone in the face in the middle of court. Though if I got a jury of all females, I could convince them it was justified. No. No, I must not punch him, no matter how strong the urge. Fight the urge. Do not rise to his barb. Y/N thought to herself. “No, Brock. I’m not happy because we’re supposed to be in a relationship and you keep blowing me off. You expect me to just clear my schedule for you, but then you ditch me whenever you see fit. Not a fan of the double-standard,” she stated with tension clear in her voice. Y/N clenched her jaw but otherwise, no one would know how upset she was. Thank God this job has taught me to have a good poker face. I cannot be seen as emotional at work. Why does he always do this when there’s an audience? Why does he do this in court?

“Well, my job is important, Y/N. You know how this job is. You’ve had to stay late before.”

“Yes, but if I have pre-existing plans, I work around those plans. There’s a thing called ‘work-life balance,’ Brock. You should learn it. You’ll burn yourself out at this rate.”

Brock huffed and looked down his nose at Y/N. “I won’t burn myself out. You know I’m trying to get into homicide. Don’t worry your pretty little head about my work habits. I gotta get to my courtroom.” With that parting shot, Brock left the courtroom.

The conversation with Brock put a damper on the rest of her day. As she walked up to her front door, she heard her name being called out from the balcony above her apartment. “Hey Y/N! Good day at work?” Bucky smiled down.

Y/N plastered a fake smile on her face. “It was fine. Thanks, Bucky. I’m happy to be home and I’m sure Harley is more than ready for his walk.”

Bucky bit his lip. “Can I join you guys? I got this place pretty quick but didn’t really look around.”

What’s the harm? Y/N thought to herself. “Sure. Just let me get changed and let me grab Harley. I’ll give you the DL on the area.”

Y/N quickly went inside and put on a pair of shorts and a tank top. She looked around for her fluffy roommate. “Come on, Bubba. Let’s get our walk on.” Harley started wagging his tail. As she walked out the door with Harley, she almost crashed into Bucky, who had his hand raised to knock on the door. “I’m sorry, Bucky! Didn’t expect you to be standing right there.”

“My fault for standing so close to the door. Shall we, my lady?” Bucky gallantly bowed and  stuck his hand out. “Lead the way.”

Y/N chuckled. “Well, actually Harley leads. He’s the one who has business to attend to.” Harley looked back at his name being spoken and then huffed. “Oh yes, sir. I’m so sorry. We’re not moving fast enough for ya,” Y/N said sarcastically, while rolling her yes. She looked at Bucky. “He can be a bit of a drama queen. God forbid we don’t move at his pace.”

Bucky laughed. Y/N found herself staring at the way his eyes lit up. She quickly looked at Harley to make sure he wasn’t getting into anything or doing something that needed to be picked up. “So, what brought you here, Bucky? I hear a bit of a New York accent.”

Bucky looked a little surprised. “Good ear. I’m from Brooklyn. I’m a tattoo artist and I got a job down here with Sam. I was looking for a change after my best friend, Steve, decided to move to England to be with his girl.”

“Tattoos? That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted one, but can’t decide on what I want. Besides, I don’t think my boyfriend would approve.” Y/N said, speaking animatedly at the thought of getting a tattoo, but immediately deflating, knowing her boyfriend would make her feel horrible if she got one.

Bucky noticed how quickly Y/N went from excited to sad. Boyfriend sounds like a douche. If she were my girl, I’d encourage her to do what makes her happy. “Well, it’s your body. If you want one, you should totally get one. I bet you would look like a badass,” Bucky said gently, trying to lift Y/N’s spirits up.

Y/N half-smiled. “I know it’s my body. But sometimes it’s easier to not do something to avoid the headache of complaints. Like tonight, for example. He and I were supposed to have a date night. He had cancelled a few days ago because of work, but then gave me the same excuse for tonight. If I pushed it, I might have gotten him to come over, but then he would be complaining about work the whole time and how he needed to get stuff done. I don’t know.” Y/N sighed. “There’s not exactly a long line of guys wanting to date a 30-something year old lawyer. But let’s talk more about you. I’m pretty boring.”

“You’re a lawyer? What kind? I was wrong. A tattoo would make you more badass than you already are.” Bucky stared at her. How could she not see how great she actually is?

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile. “I’m a prosecutor. Been at it for a few years. It has its days, but it’s not as interesting as you’d probably expect. The cases themselves can be interesting, but it’s a lot of arguing the same type of law over and over. Right now I handle defendants who appear in career criminal court, so guys with a lot of priors, usually violent.”

“That still sounds really cool. I could listen to you talk all day.”

“Well, you’d be the only one. Harley doesn’t even want to listen to me most of the time.” Y/N said with a laugh. Harley looked back at the two people who held his leash. He moved back and booped his nose against Bucky’s leg, looking for attention.

Bucky smiled, happy he made her laugh, and absentmindedly reached down to pet Harley’s head. “I mean it. You’re really nice. I mean, you could have yelled at me this morning for being so loud so early. You’re clearly smart, since you’re a lawyer. If you get tired of the boyfriend, I’ll gladly step up.” Bucky said quickly and looked away. He missed Y/N’s eyes widen is surprise, but heard her sharp intake of breath.

“That’s sweet of you to say to cheer me up, Bucky. As for this morning, well, missing out on 5 minutes’ worth of sleep isn’t a big deal. And it’s not like you meant to wake me up. I’m not going to be a jerk for something that’s an accident anyways.” Y/N looked at the time. “We should probably head back. I gotta feed Harley and I guess cook dinner.”

“I meant what I said, Y/N. I know we just met this morning, but you seem like someone I want in my life.”

Y/N smiled sadly. He’s just being nice. “Well, we are neighbors, so we’re in each other’s lives no matter what. I’m sorry for unloading on you. You don’t need that.”

“I’m here whenever you need me. That’s what neighbors are for, right?”

“If they’re good neighbors, sure. Thanks for walking with us, Bucky. You’re welcome to join us any time. He seems to like you. Also, just FYI, when I’m at work, Harley occasionally will howl, because he’s unhappy with me not being home at his beck and call. So, I’m sorry in advance if he disturbs you.”

“Like he could ever disturb me. He’s a good boy and dogs bark. I figured living in a dog-friendly complex that I would occasionally hear dogs.”

“That’s good. Some people don’t grasp that concept. And Harley really just howls when I’m not there. If I’m home, he’s quiet. I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard him bark at anything either. He’s not exactly a normal dog; definitely not a real guard dog.” Y/N started laughing. “He is scared of everything, except thunder and fireworks. The A/C turning on freaks him out, but thunder? He’s fine and will want to go for walks while there’s lightning and thunder. No sense of self-preservation.”

Bucky bent over, laughing heartily. “That’s…that’s crazy,” he wheezed out. Y/N joined in on laughing, recognizing her dog is definitely weird. After a few minutes, the laughter died down. Y/N wiped the tears from her eyes. “I needed a good laugh. Thank you for pointing out the ridiculousness that is my dog.”

“Any time, Doll.” Bucky said, still smiling.

At “doll,” Y/N felt a flutter in her stomach. I never feel that when Brock calls me babe. Maybe Wanda is right and I’m ignoring the red flags. But, then again, Bucky probably calls every girl “doll.” It probably doesn’t mean anything. “Hey, Doll. Since your plans got cancelled for the evening, would you be interested in hanging out with me? I’m not completely unpacked but I can order us a pizza or something.”

Y/N thought for a few moments before answer. “I appreciate the offer, Bucky, but I think I’m gonna spend the night in alone. How about we hang out another night? Maybe later this week?”

“Sounds like a plan. Enjoy the rest of your evening then.”

“Good night, Bucky.”

As Y/N walked into her apartment, she got lost in thought. She turned to look at her dog. “Harley, I think I’m in trouble. There’s no way someone as sweet and handsome as Bucky would really be interested in me. He probably just pitied me when I opened my stupid mouth.”  Y/N sighed sadly. “At least we seem to have made a new friend. Always got plenty of room in my life for good friends.”

Before she knew it, a few months had passed and Y/N and Bucky began to spend a good amount of time together. Brock cancelled more dates, claiming work. It got to the point where he cancelled more than he actually made the dates. Y/N started visiting Bucky at the tattoo shop when that happened. Bucky got more and more frustrated every time it happened. After what seemed to be the tenth time it happened, Bucky had had enough.

“Doll, why do you put up with him? You deserve someone who will treat you as the goddess you are. I would never cancel on you. If you left him, I’d make sure you know just how much you are treasured, always.” Bucky ran his hands through his hair.

“Bucky…” Y/N started. “Brock takes his job seriously. We have large caseloads. There are times when we have to work nights and weekends.”

“That has never stopped you from making plans and keeping them. What about our weekly movie nights? You have never cancelled on me. And I know there were days you were in trial. You still showed up and didn’t make me feel as if you wanted to be anywhere else. You are someone who loves with their whole heart. Brock just takes and takes from you and what does he ever give back? He treats you like you’re at his beck and call and your life doesn’t matter. Hell, you keep talking about how you want to get a tattoo, yet he says things to hold you back. Stop letting him. Leave him. Leave him for me. I could make you so happy.” Bucky looked at Y/N with almost desperation in his eyes.

Y/N’s brow furrowed and her breathing started to get a little faster. She could feel the tears rising. She wanted Bucky, but her fear held her back. Bucky had wormed his way into her heart. Y/N wanted nothing more than to go into Bucky’s arms. But she could only hear Brock’s voice in her head. You’re too clingy. You suffocate people. You’re just not the relationship-type. You’re lucky I even want you. I’m the only one who would ever put up with you like that. Y/N looked at Bucky, who looked at her like she was the moon and the stars in the sky, and knew what she had to do. She nodded to herself, trying to steel her resolve.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I think I need some time to think. I think it’s best if we take some time away from each other,” Y/N quietly said. It took everything in her to hold it together. She couldn’t even look at Bucky, for fear that she would completely break down. She felt a crushing pressure on her chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Doll . . . “

Y/N stood up quickly and rushed out of the shop.

Sam, who had seen Y/N rush out, looked at Bucky. “What happened?”

“I pushed her too hard. I just . . . I just want to be with her. She’s amazing. She’s smart, kind, beautiful. Two weeks ago, I was having a bad day. She showed up on my doorstep with Harley and a plum tart she made from scratch. She knew from our texts that I was having a bad day, so she made me my favorite dessert and we watched movies. When you talk to her about her work, she’s the most confident person you could meet. She works so hard to get respect. But when it comes to her personal life? It’s like she’s a completely different person. It’s almost like she doesn’t think she’s worth being loved. I don’t get it.” Bucky felt completely empty. Thinking that she needed time away from him hurt. “What do I do? She’s my neighbor. How can I see her and not be with her?”

Sam looked thoughtful for a few moments. “Bucky, I think that girl is head over heels for you. But I think she’s confused because she has an asshole of a boyfriend and she doesn’t know how to stand up for herself in a relationship. I think you need to give her space and let her come back to you.”

“But do you think she will?” Bucky felt hopeless. He knew he was pushing her, but he just wanted to see her happy.

“I guess you’ll find out.” Sam clapped Bucky on his shoulder. “In the meantime, I say this as your boss, get back to work. You have a client here.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam. “Fine.”

The next morning, Y/N rolled into work and found Wanda. “Hey ma’am,” Y/N said, sounding despondent.

“What happened? Did you finally dump Brock?”

“You ask that every morning and what is the answer every time?”

“No. But I know the day the answer is different is coming soon. I can feel it,” Wanda said with a smile.

Y/N sighed. “I told Bucky I needed time away from him.”

“Why would you do something so stupid?” Wanda yelled.

“He asked me to dump Brock and be with him. Wanda, I don’t know what to do. Brock isn’t who I want. I’m not even sure why I haven’t walked away. I can see it isn’t working. Hell, I barely see him these days.”

“Well, how about I make it easy for you? Brock is over there, talking to Tony from homicide. GO DUMP HIS SELFISH ASS!” Wanda pushed Y/N towards him. Y/N knew Wanda was right. She knew Bucky was right. She didn’t want to be with Brock. They hadn’t even had sex in weeks, Brock always claiming he was too tired or Y/N not feeling right. Y/N thought of Brock touching her and it made her feel as if spiders were crawling under her skin. She knew it was time to end things.

“Brock, can we talk?” Y/N asked, as she walked up to Brock.

“Y/N, I have to get to court. Can this wait?” Brock sounded irritated.

“No. This needs to be done now, while we don’t have an audience.” Y/N felt her strong in her decision. “Brock, this isn’t working. We need to end this.”

Brock sneered down at her. “What are you talking about? What us? Did you think we were anything? You were there to just warm my bed and you couldn’t even do that right. I’ve been sleeping with my ex pretty much since you and I started dating, if you want to call it that.”

Y/N felt confusion. “You. . . We . . . we’ve been in a relationship for six months. Sure it hasn’t been great as of late, but there’s no reason to act like we weren’t anything.”

Brock, looking around, grabbed Y/N’s upper arm tightly and dragged her into the nearest office. “Listen, you delusional bitch, we’re nothing. I was just using you. It looked good to the guys in homicide that I had a solid relationship. Tony just offered me the spot. I no longer have use for you. You were a means to an end, nothing more. Why you would think you actually meant anything to me or to anyone is beyond me. You were so desperate for attention that you actually believed that I would like you. You’re pathetic.”

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face and rush into her ears. Still can’t punch him. Still not allowed to punch him. DO NOT PUNCH HIM. Y/N looked at Brock for a few moments, nodded, and turned and walked away. She headed straight to her office, knowing she needed to get there before she broke down completely. Wanda rushed after her and closed the door to give them privacy. “What the hell did he say to you?” Wanda demanded. She had never seen Y/N look so lost.

“He used me to get into homicide. He never cared. I never mattered to him.” Y/N felt weak. “I should have seen this coming. I should have known better.”

Wanda’s mouth hung open. “I’m gonna kill him.” Wanda started to move towards the door. Y/N lunged at her friend and grabbed her hand.

“No, Wanda! He’s not worth it. I appreciate your fury on my behalf, but he’s not worth it. I told him I was ending things. What matters is it’s done.” Y/N looked imploringly at her friend. “I just can’t believe I stayed for so long.”

Wanda sighed. “Fine, but I’m gonna destroy his career.”

Y/N’s head cocked to the side. “What are you going to do?”

“Brock’s dumb ass forgets that I am very well connected in this office. He messed with my friend, I’ll make sure he won’t get the promotion he wants. Besides, we all know he isn’t the best attorney for the job. There are way better people for that spot, including you.” Wanda smiled devilishly.

“Wanda, he’ll mess up eventually. Men like him always do. This office is in a state of change anways. We’re getting a new big boss after the new year. Brock will get his. And because this office gossips worse than a bunch of middle school kids, I’m sure it’ll get out how he treated me and we all know people won’t take kindly to that. And I’m not going to deny that I would be good in homicide. Because I know you’ll try to kick my butt if I do.”

“Damn straight,” Wanda muttered.

Wanda looked at her friend thoughtfully. “So. . .  can I give people enough of a gist that Brock will be ostracized? People like you a lot more than you think.”

Y/N stared at her friend. “I mean, he cheated on me pretty much the whole time we were together with his ex and used me to get himself into homicide. I don’t exactly want people know how pathetic I am. I can’t believe I dated him in the first place.”

When Y/N put it that way, Wanda could see why her friend didn’t want her to say anything. “Fine. I won’t spread the information around, but if I’m asked, can I tell the truth?”

“Well, yeah. There’s no reason to lie. I just don’t want that information volunteered. I wasn’t in love with Brock, never claimed to be, but damn it still hurts what he did. It’s like I meant less than nothing.”

Wanda nodded her agreement. “Well, now that you’ve dumped the loser, how about we get you set up with your hot neighbor that you spend all your time with?”

Y/N felt herself tear up and started wringing her hands. “Wanda, I screwed it up with him. He told me last night that he wanted me to leave Brock and choose him. I told him I needed time away from him and ran out of there. I just . . . Bucky has become a huge part of my life. He’s smart and handsome and caring and funny and, even though he’s a total asshole, what if Brock was right? What if I’m not the relationship-type? I mean, there must be a reason I’m almost in my mid-30s and have had only one relationship and look at how much of a disaster that was. I don’t think I could handle Bucky seeing me as too clingy. I couldn’t handle it if our relationship weren’t to work out.” Y/N felt lighter stating her fears, but still felt a gaping hole in her chest. The thought of life without Bucky seemed as if the world would never have color in it again.

Wanda looked at the lost look on her friend’s face and felt a few tears fall down her face. “Sweetie, you are worth everything. Bucky knows that and he would never see you any other way. I’ve seen you and him together. Every time you’re not looking at him, he’s looking at you. You should give a relationship with him a chance.”

“I think I need a few days at least to process everything. I feel like I’m going to explode out of my skin from everything that’s happened in the past 24 hours. I know I can’t wait too long to make a decision, but I also don’t want Bucky to think he’s a rebound. I don’t want to think he’s a rebound.”

“Y/N, he’s not a rebound. He’s not someone you moved on to because he showed you attention. He makes you laugh, he listens to you, he supports you. I think you need to move before it’s too late.” With that, Wanda stepped out of the office to give her friend the space to think about her words. Y/N luckily did not have to be anywhere that morning (a rarity to not have court), so she decided to keep her office door closed and focus on getting work done.

When she got home that evening, she saw the lights on in Bucky’s apartment. Every atom in her body was calling out to go to Bucky but she knew she needed to sort out her feelings.

Bucky saw Y/N walking to her door. Her face was void of makeup, her hair was in a loose bun, and Bucky thought she never looked more beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to go downstairs to talk to her, but he kept Sam’s words in his head. He decided to wait for her to come to him, so Bucky put on a movie and settled in for the night.

After a few weeks, Y/N started to feel more like herself. It didn’t take long for Tony to find out how Brock used her. Brock knew that Tony was her mentor in the office, but he underestimated their friendship. Tony stormed into her office and demanded to know the truth. Though she kept most of the information to herself, Tony was able to understand enough of what Brock did. While Tony couldn’t fire Brock like he wanted, he was able to deny Brock the promotion. Brock, in retaliation, tried to trash Y/N to anyone who would listen, but Y/N’s reputation preceded her and no one believed him. After a month, Brock quit and moved to another city.

Over the course of the month after things ended with Brock, Y/N would see Bucky around the complex but they kept distance from each other. Y/N appreciated Bucky giving her the space she needed, but she knew she had to make a big gesture to show Bucky she wanted him.

Y/N contacted the shop where Bucky worked and spoke with Sam. “Sam, I don’t know if Bucky told you about what happened,” Y/N started.

“He told me that he told you about his feelings and you asked for some time. I don’t blame you. He mentioned you have a boyfriend,” Sam stated. Y/N could tell he wasn’t judging her for her actions, but he sounded cautious.

“Had a boyfriend. I ended things the next day. Then found out some things about him and I needed time to get past it. I didn’t think it would be fair for Bucky for me to deal with that while trying to figure out exactly what I feel for Bucky.”

“Have you figured it out? He’s been a mopey mess without you.”

“Well, if it makes any difference, I’ve been miserable without Bucky. I didn’t realize how much time I actually spent with him.”

“You two were disgusting. Please tell me you’re going to put him out of his misery.”

Y/N chuckled. “Well, that’s actually what I want to talk to you about. I want to make an appointment with Bucky for my first tattoo, but I want it to be a surprise. Do you think we can make it happen?” Y/N asked hopefully. She waited with bated breath for Sam’s response.

“I think we can make it happen. What do you want to get? You realize that usually there’s a consult and then the actual appointment?”

Y/N felt excited. “I know that’s how it usually happens. I would love to get [your ideal first tattoo] on my left shoulder. Honestly, I know Bucky is a great artist and I trust him. He can design it however he wants. I mean, what’s the point of going to an artist if I’m going not let him be creative?”

Sam pulled the phone away from his ear and smirked at it. “I don’t know that I’ve ever heard someone say it that way before. I think it’ll make things easier to set up a surprise for him. I’ll use a different name for the appointment, so Bucky isn’t tipped off. I’ll email you the pricing. What day do you want to come in?”

“As soon as you can arrange it. I really want to put myself out of misery as well,” Y/N said with a laugh. “If during the week, any time after 7. Any time during the weekend.”

“Well, the soonest I can get you in is 3 days from now, on Thursday. Will you be able to wait that long?”

“Yeah. That’ll work.” Y/N felt an excitement she hadn’t felt in months.

Thursday came around and Y/N hadn’t seen Bucky in those days. She felt almost sick to her stomach with nerves. She felt her heart pounding in her chest. Will he reject me? Am I doing something stupid? What if I took too long? What if he no longer wants me? As Y/N walked up to the shop, she felt a tremble in her hands. Here goes nothing.

As she stepped into the shop, she saw Sam at the counter. “Hey, girl. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Hey, Buck. Your 7pm is here.” Sam was careful to not use your name. He pulled out his phone, pretending to be checking something. He wanted to record Bucky’s reaction to seeing her there for a tattoo. He was hoping for a reaction he could use for ammo against Bucky later.

As Bucky came around the corner, he saw Y/N standing there. He could feel how nervous she was. Y/N was biting her lip and had a small smile. “Surprise,” Y/N said with a small shrug. “I thought you should be the one to give me my first tattoo.”

Bucky strode right up to Y/N and hugged her tight. “I’m so sorry I pushed you, Doll,” he said into her hair. “I’ve missed you so much.” He could feel the tension leave her body as her arms wrapped around his waist and felt his shirt get a little wet.

“I wasn’t sure if you would want to see me after how I left last time.”

“You’re my best girl. I always want to see you.” Bucky smiled down at her. He felt happy for the first time in weeks. “Now, since you’re here for your appointment. Let’s get started.”

“I can’t wait to see what you came up with.”

“I can’t believe you’re giving me so much freedom.”

“Well, Bucky, I trust you. You would never let me down.” Y/N hoped Bucky understood she was talking about more than just the tattoo.

Bucky led Y/N back to the room and got the stencil out. “What do you think?”

“Oh my God, Bucky. It’s perfect! It’s better than anything I could imagine.” Y/N was gushing. It was truly the perfect first tattoo.

“Let’s get this placed and make sure it’s where you want it.” Bucky adjusted the tank top Y/N was wearing to make sure there was plenty of room and that none of the ink would get on her shirt. After  placing the stencil and getting approval from Y/N, Bucky had her sit down on the chair. He got the ink set up and inserted the needle into the machine.

“You ready, Doll?” Bucky asked, as he moved behind Y/N.

“Bring it on, Baby.” Y/N smiled over her shoulder at Bucky.

Bucky turned on the machine and the buzzing sound filled the room. Y/N felt Bucky’s hand just to the right of where the tattoo was going to be. The first touch of the needle to her skin stung. It felt like a long scratch, nowhere near as painful as she expected. “You okay, Doll?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Bucky.”

After a few minutes of silence, Bucky decided to speak up while focusing on the line work. “So, if you’re getting a tattoo, that means one of two things happened. Either you decided to get the tattoo no matter what Brock says or Brock is no longer in the picture.”

“I broke up with him the day after I last saw you. It hadn’t been working for a long time, if it ever worked at all. According to him, I was just a means to an end.”

Bucky paused for a moment before continuing on with the tattoo. “What do you mean a means to an end?” Y/N could hear the tension in Bucky’s voice.

“He was using me to get into the homicide unit. Apparently, they wanted someone who had a more stable home life and since I’m good with most of the people in there, he set his sights on me. This, of course, all came out after I told him I was done. He quit the office not long after. Because lawyers gossip more than a bunch of middle school kids, it got out and people didn’t take kindly to him doing that to me. He didn’t get the promotion.”

Bucky felt relieved to hear that he was no longer in the picture, but felt sad that Y/N didn’t come to him sooner. “I’m sorry you went through that, Doll. Why didn’t you talk to me when it happened?”

“I needed to sort myself out. I really like you, Bucky. I knew Brock wasn’t the guy for me. But I also didn’t think a guy like you would really want to be with someone like me.”

As Bucky switched out the needle for shading, he felt at a loss for words. “What are you talking about, Doll?”

“Bucky, I’ve never been good with relationships. Hell, Brock was technically my first boyfriend. He’s not the first to tell me that I’m not relationship material. I figured there was something wrong with me. I mean, when multiple people tell you you’re not worth it, it’s kind of hard to ignore.”

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Y/N, Doll, in no way are you not relationship material. You’re kind and smart and so beautiful I forgot to breathe the first time I saw you. Those guys were complete idiots.”

Y/N started to tear up. “So, you would still be interested in giving us a try?”

Bucky turned off the machine and moved in front of her. He looked deep into her eyes. “Nothing would make me happier. You’re my best girl.”

Y/N gave him a watery smile. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. She could feel the stubble against her lips. The smell of his cologne enveloped her like a warm hug. Bucky looked like he had won the lottery. “So, how’s the tattoo looking, Bucky Bear?”

Bucky chuckled as he moved back behind her. “Got a bit more to do. You doing okay? Do you need a break?”

“Nah. You gotta finish up so we can plan our first date.”

Bucky felt his face heat up. “Way to motivate me, Doll.”

Y/N chuckled. “Well, I gotta come up with something. Unless you’d like for me to come up with something else?”

“I don’t think my heart could handle it, Doll. You are trouble.”

Y/N had to bite her lip to prevent herself from laughing. “Only for you, Bucky Bear.”

Bucky smiled and resumed tattooing. After a little while, he set the machine down. “Ok, Doll. Let’s clean this up and you can check out your new tattoo.” He wiped down the skin gently. He helped Y/N stand up and move in front of the mirror. “What do you think?”

Y/N stared at it for a few minutes, her face not giving anything away. Bucky began to feel nervous when she didn’t say anything. “Doll?”

Y/N looked back at Bucky. She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him close. She whispered into his ear, “it’s a good thing I love it or our date would be pretty awkward.” She placed a kiss just below his earlobe.

Bucky felt a tremor go down his spine and chuckled. “Little shit. You scared me for a moment.”

Y/N had a cheeky smile. “Well, gotta keep you on your toes. Would hate for you to get bored of me.”

“There is no chance of that ever happening, Doll.” Bucky lifted her chin towards him. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. As he started to pull away, Y/N followed and crashed her lips against his. She slid her hand to the nape of his neck to hold him to her. Bucky moved his hands to her hips and squeezed. The move caused Y/N to gasp, which allowed Bucky to slide his tongue into her mouth. Y/N felt as if the world went away and all that was left was her and Bucky. They continued to kiss until the need to breathe caused them to part.

As they looked into each other’s eyes, Y/N felt the butterflies in her stomach she had felt the first time she met Bucky. “So, how about that date?”

[scatterpatter]

Corren - 1 through 100 - You did this to yourself.

FUCK YOU *UN-IRONICS YOUR ASK*

UNDER THE FUCKING CUT

1. What do they smell like?

Bad. Do you think their party is able to regularly take showers? I thinketh the fuck not. ... Pine and old books when he can self care tho.

2. What is their voice like?

Listen I know Corren, being taller, would be more likely to have a deeper register but you'll tear "tenor Corren" out of my cold dead hands

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Spite.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

When he first met his BFF Alondra, he was so antisocial and good at ignoring people that she actually got the impression he might have been hard of hearing. She never let him live that down. (one day I'll finish this fic i promise)

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

"I will keep all of my pain in here, and one day I'll die." ... Okay but listen he's squishy so he takes like one hit and is bloodied up. Someone get him a healer. Pls.

6. What do they like to wear?

He likes his cloak. Its weighty and soft(well. WAS soft. got a bit of wear and tear these days.) and like. Who doesnt love cloaks.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

Ohhhhh fuuuccck this one's tough. I might have to go with Torvid honestly. While the entire party has had a positive impact on him(and trust me I was this close to picking Alistair), Torvid's been more of the one to call him out on his bullshit and to, oh I don't know, talk about your emotions? Ever??? Yknow BEFORE they become too much to handle and he absolutely breaks down???

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

Alistair's cooking.

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Good luck finding him NOT cuddled up with at least one dog. Tbh he just enjoys cuddles in general.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

FUCKIN. GIVE HIM A GOOD STEAK. THIS BOY IS MOSTLY CARNIVORISTIC.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

As tempted as I am to say "His cooking", it's actually his singing.

12. How do they like to dress?

"Comfort over flashiness tbh. I gotta go ADVENTURING in whatever I wear after all."

"... Also don't you DARE perceive me as cishet."

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

Call him a genie because he will BOTTLE THAT SHIT UP.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Denial :D

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Shrike: Killing his dad

Me: NOOOOOO

EDIT: WAIT THIS WAS ANSWERED IN Q99 WHAT THE HECK

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Somehow more of a dick than usual. Snappy and cranky and just. Mrehhh.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Doesn't get drunk often, but when he does I imagine he's actually giggly and a little clingy. It's cute :)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

*Opens my Corren playlist* Oh yeah. It's either full edgy alt rock or indie alt "depressed millenial" tracks.

19. Are they right or left handed?

FFFuuhhhhck uhhhh well

Looking over my old art I can't seem to pick a dominant hand(I've even drawn him handling his sniper with either hand???????????) so like oops guess he's ambidextrous.

20. Fears?

The dark, the ocean, dying alone and forgotten, his friends losing their trust of him

21. Favorite kind of weather?

Rain!!!! Especially cool rain like what people often get in fall months.

22. Favorite color?

Indigo!!!

23. Do they collect anything?

Books :3

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold weather by far.

25. What is their eye color?

Electric blue!

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Well his race is a homebrew race known as Marelienth. Uhhh ethnicity? Idk he's from a mountain town way up north *shrugs*

In human aus I imagine him as half-Mongolian half-Norwegian so ayee

27. Hair color?

Black!

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

No :D He loves adventuring with his party don't get me wrong but he still has a lot of trauma to unpack. ... Also he was just possibly broken up with soooo. :/

29. Are they a morning person?

NOPE.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

*motions to above question* Sunset.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

More organized, actually!

32. Pet peeves?

*unravels a list. It's all shit the party has done. Mostly Alistair.*

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

HOOUSIDSJFK- HE- Y-YEAH HE SURE DOES

His amethyst pendant used to belong to his brother, Julian, and he gave it to Corren right before they were separated so you BET it's sentimental as shit and he wears it daily.

34. Least favorite food?

Mecha's usually a great cook but one time trolled him with some absurdly spicy curry he couldn't handle and he's never forgiven them.

35. Least favorite color?

Hmmm. Maybe... yellow?

36. Least favorite smell?

He spent a year with his party in a damp cave and no showers, so uh. I'll give you a guess.

37. When was the last time they cried?

Literally last night in our game's timeline :D Full breakdown and everything!

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

Torvid :D He was there to comfort

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

One time they were in combat and Corren took a few hits and was down to about 2hp or so. He had a temporary level thanks to Kieran, which boosted his HP a little bit. When he teleported them to a safe town, though, well... Torvid was waiting for them so that's cool. But uh. Yeah that temporary level wore off then and there, dropping Corn Cob to exactly 0hp and he just- flopped down face first in the snow and started dying then and there KJNDKLFNSLKN

40. Do they have any scars?

:)

Do you want to talk about the scar over his eye from a fight he got in with his dad or like. The scars on his limbs from the time he was literally experimented on.

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

:)

Undiagnosed+Untreated Anxiety, Depression, DPDR, PTSD, just to name a few

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Running away from his problems, definitely.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He's a pretentious nerd. He can be a dick if he doesn't care about you.

44. Why might someone love them?

He's an adorable nerd! He's a hopeless romantic and oddly enough an optimist. He's passionate and driven too!

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Well ghosts are like- a canon proven thing in his world sooo. Yeah.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

His party. Well- most in his party.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Nethyl :)

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

He's dating Nethyl and they're in a happy and healthy relationship :) *politely ignores canon*

49. Do they like surprises?

NO >:(

50. When is their birthday?

Heroya 5th! I think. I don't wanna check, assume it's this.

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

"You guys celebrate your watchdays?"

Jokes aside, he mainly just treats himself to a nice dinner and a new book or something :)

52. Do they have any family?

Two older siblings: Julian and Mila. His parents are Andreas and Fanya!

53. Are they close to their family?

... *Coughs*. He was close with his siblings, but Mila died and he hasn't seen Julian in 30 years. Was close with his dad but last time they saw each other, they fought and Corren might have killed him so. ... Yeah. :/

54. What is their MBTI type?

FUCK uh. I... N... T... J? INTJ. Sure.

55. What is their zodiac sign?

In Sekrezia: The eagle

In our world: Uhhh. Idk. Capricorn????

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Uhhh. Ravenclaw??? I know almost nothing about HP :/

57. What D&D alignment are they?

THIS ONE'S EASY- lawful neutral!

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

:)

Used to have typical nightmares, nothing special. Nowadays though he often dreams of being underwater. Not drowning, though. It's... weird. He doesn't like those.

59. What are their views on death?

He's a necromancer lol.

Death is inevitable, though. It's a necessary part of life. Death is not an entire loss, though. One lives on in the memories others carry of them, in the love they hold in their hearts. Death is complicated, but that's okay.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Alistair :)

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

Dog time :)

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

... Ehhhhhh?

63. Do they have an accent?

Technically??? It's an accent from where he's from but like. I just barely tweak my own voice when I rp him so? Damn Corren I'm sorry you've been cursed with east coast dialect.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

"Damn who's the rich bastard here?" (cake is kinda a delicacy in their world- not like elites only but not NEARLY as common as it is here)

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say?

Reassurance mode to whomever he's with. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Remember what I told you, death is a natural part of life, yeah? I don't have any regrets, I'm okay... Just. Thanks. For giving me a chance. Thank you. Thank you."

66. How do they feel about sex?

I SWEAR he's allosexual. I'm just bad at writing allosexuals.

67. What is their sexuality?

He doesn't really know how to pin it down, so he just calls himself "queer". Definitely not straight, that's all he knows.

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

AHAHA no. He's hella desensitized

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

Skulking cyst. Look it up at your own volition. It's. NO.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

It's 12:21 in the morning and I'm NOT about to scroll through a bunch of tv tropes just. just. NERD stereotype.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yyyyes? Only really if it's the people he cares about.

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Bullshit.

73. Do they have a pet?

WINGTHARA!! HIS SKELE-DOG!!!

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Oh yeah he's all bark and no bite. He usually just throws a little fit and/or yells.

75. How patient are they?

More than he should be :/

76. Are they good at cooking?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

Oh yes he insults the others all the time. No particular favorite, he likes so spice it up.

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Stim. Stim. Stim. His eyes get all sparkly and he. He.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

He will do everything in his power to assure they won't ever have to deal with their fears alone- You afraid of spiders? It's his job to get the spiders from now on so you won't have to deal with them.

80. Are they trustworthy?

Oh yeah. He's like Rapunzel- doesn't break promises.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Oh yes he tries to hide it. And yes, he's awful at it.

82. Do they exercise regularly?

Yes and no? No like- exercise regimen, but the amount of travelling and fighting they do is just- a workout in and of itself

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yeah! He's cute and he knows it baybie!!!

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

He,,, he likes someone who's physically stong,,, Muscles are,,, aaaaa >///>

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Someone he can nerd out with :)

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Impartial to it. He won't turn sweets away but he's not crazy about them either.

87. What is their age?

43, the equivalent of- I think someone in their mid 30s?

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

He's 6'8" :) Which is actually normal for his race

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

Sometimes! I like to think he has reading glasses or something like that.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

HE'S CUTE AND HE KNOWS IT.

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Julian tainted his sense of humor and now he finds the most dumb shit hilarious. Think very millenial/GenZ humor like "I wish I was Jared, 19"

92. What mood are they most often in?

"I don't get paid enough for this" or Fear.jpg

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People who don't keep their FUCKING WORD. Oh and like. Yknow. Half the shit his party does.

94. Outlook on life?

Again he's??? Oddly an optimist? In the "Things will get better and that is a fucking THREAT" way, but still optimist!

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

Talk about his family :) Or the fact that his boyfriend might want him dead :)

96. What is their greatest weakness?

He's squishy as fuck. He goes down easy.

97. What is their greatest strength?

He's extremely intelligent and great with magic and his sniper!

98. Something that they regret?

Not doing more to stop his brother when he tried to resurrect their sister

99. Biggest accomplishment?

Either convincing an entire town his name is Torren or accidentally convincing some very OP people that he's secretly a dragon.

100. Create your own!

FUCK YOU I SPENT LIKE 2 HOURS ON THIS. NO PROOFREAD. IVE ALREADY DESIGNED CORREN'S AND NETHYL'S HYPOTHETICAL KIDS. ANYWAYS THEY'RE TWIN IRINAGA AND I'VE NAMED THEM AFTER THE DNDADS TWINS: THEIR NAMES ARE LARK AND SPARROW.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader Season I

Chapter 8- I Heard A Rumor

Summary: Five’s healing from his shrapnel wound, Diego’s been arrested, now it’s up to you and Allison to find Vanya.

Masterlist - where all the other chapters are⚔️

Tagged: @sambucky8 @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch @alonewolfsblog @starrrybarnes @winterboobear11

The drive to Jenkins grandmothers house is long and silent, the two of you settling into a nervous quiet. Allison worried for Vanya, while you’re worried for what’s happening with Diego. Of all the times for him to get arrested and it’s right when you guys get a lead. Perfect. You cross your arms as you lean yourself against the door, closing your eyes tight and taking a deep breath as you open them once again. Looking out the window at the scenery, it’s dark out and raining heavily as Allison drives. Deciding now is as good as ever, you close your eyes and lay your head against your arm, trying to catch up on some sleep, hoping the ride goes faster.

When you open them again it’s early morning, the sun is still hiding behind the clouds leaving the world in dull blues, pinks, and oranges. You shift your gaze over to Allison who looks like she’s about to fall asleep at the wheel.

 “I don’t think you’d survive a car crash...so in other words, I’ll drive the rest of the way there. Deal.” You tell her with a bit of tired humor in your voice, she gives you a weary nod, slowing the vehicle down and steering it off the side of the highway.

 You both get out, switching positions, as you start the car up beginning to take down the road again. You glance over at Allison who’s already passed out on the window, “Good talk.” You mutter to yourself, content with the comfortable silence.

You get off the highway, making a couple turns here and there until you reach a gravel backroad. This is it. You cautiously make your way down the drive, past trees, ferns, and other greenery. You’d honestly be enjoying the surroundings of nature more, if this trip wasn’t about finding Vanya and her crazy boyfriend. 

“Allison wake up, we’re here.” You whisper, reaching out to nudge her shoulder as you park at the bottom of the small gravel driveway. She startles awake, looking at her surroundings, relaxing once she sees how calm you are.

“That seemed fast. Thanks for driving us the rest of the way...I was seriously about to pass out at the wheel.” She explains with a yawn, you let out an amused puff of air.

“I’ve been in a car wreck before....I know surprising right...it’s not what I would consider, a fun experience.” She lets out a small chuckle at your early morning bluntness, it still amazes her how unfazed you’ve become to traumatic events that have happened to you. You’re guessing it all stems from the rapid healing and whatnot, you’re body doesn’t exactly give you a proper second to contemplate your injuries. Already deciding to heal everything quickly and get on with the next problem.

The both of you get out, slowly walking up towards the cabin, deciding to find a side entrance instead of barging in through the front. It’s best to be subtle, unlike some specific individual who you will not name. You slyly stalk your way to a low window, Allison right behind you.

 “See anything?” She whispers as you peer carefully through the glass, not catching sight of anything of any real importance.

That is, until your eyes land on a black violin case, “Vanya’s violin case...but that’s it, I don’t hear any movement.” You whisper back, moving away from the window to face her, “Let’s get out of here, they can’t be that far.” You add glancing around the old cabin, she agrees and the two of you turn to leave.

——

“Someone better have fucking died, why are we stuck in goddamn traffic...in the countryside...literally nowhere. We’re not even in the city, what the hell?” You angrily ramble as Allison sits at the wheel listening to you go off. It takes another ten minutes to finally make it to some restaurant type business plaza area where something out of the norm has defiantly occured. Traffic is at a standstill once again as you look out the passenger side window at the various policemen wandering about in the nearby parking lot. She suddenly gets out of the car, noticing police cars surrounding some fenced off area with police tape all around it. You grumble, opening up your own door, flipping up your hood and hastily following her. She grabs a scarf that was hanging from off of a sign, walking over to the police tape and lifting it up to make her way into the off limits zone.

 “Allison what the fu..” You start to tell her as a police officer gets to her first. 

“Hey! Pardon me. Hey! I gotta ask you to stay behind the lines. We had an accident here last night.” He explains, halting her from walking any further. You make it to the yellow caution tape, standing on the outside like a civilized person.

 “What happened here then?” You wonder, not unnoticing of the narly blood stain smeared on a nearby wall. Shit maybe someone did die.

“Ma’am. The line, please.” He adds, still wanting Allison to get behind it.

 “Okay. Yes. Sorry.” She says, lifting up the yellow caution tape and standing next to you.

“Got a lot of stuff on the ground, okay? To be wary of.”

“What happened?” You ask again, really curious as to what’s holding up traffic. 

The officer sighs while putting his hands on his hips, “We’re trying to figure that out. As soon as we do, you’ll be able to read it in the newspaper with everybody else. So have a nice day.” The officer says turning to walk away. Allison takes off her sunglasses, “Look officer, is there any way we..” He snaps back around his eyes shooting wide in surprise, “Holy shit! You’re Allison Hargreeves. I saw you on tv like two nights ago in that Sandra Bullock movie about underpaid teachers that rob a bank.” He excitedly rambles on. Rolling your eyes you flip your hood back, not caring if he recognizes you since Allison has taken it upon herself to blow cover. Your hair falls around your face as you blow a puff of wind to get a piece out of your eyes, this overly enthusiastic police officer’s mouth drops open once again. His face contorting from confusion to shock to realization. Ah, shit..he does indeed recognize you to your great surprise. He points to you excitedly, “No freakin way, you....you’re.....you’re...Y/N. This is crazy, you’re the Olympian! Of the frickin’ Umbrella Academy.” He gushes passionately, you purse your lips together, internally cringing a bit at hearing your old superhero name. The name you were given due to your likeness in powers and obvious immortality, to that likeness of the Greek gods and goddesses of mythical lore. You truly haven’t heard that name in many, many years, apparently you still have some old time fans.

 “Yep, That’s us.” You fake smile at him, Allison doing the same, enjoying the recognition way more then you are.

“Oh! Wow. Hey. Never in a million years could I have thought I’d be in the presence of Allison Hargreeves and the Olympian. How bout’ that. What a day, huh.” He says, at a loss for words and what he could say next to his two idols, you and Allison just stand in an awkward silence. “Copy, Cheddar?” Speaks a woman’s voice from his cop radio. He quickly goes to answer, “Yeah, what do you got, Fred?”

“Hospital called. Perp from last night just regained consciousness.” She replies back. “Copy. I’ll be right over.” He says back, his face morphing back to that of an excited child’s, “Wow. Allison freakin Hargreeves and Y/N...the Olympian! Wow. My wife’s not gonna believe it.” He gushes yet again, you’d love to bitchslap that smile right off of his stupid face along with his dumb stereotypical small-town cop mustache. Allison just chuckles, as you cross your arms, “Anyway, I...I..I..I gotta go. Work stuff....Yeah.” He says almost sadly. “Yeah, of course. Sorry.” Allison answer with, as Officer Cheddar walks past you two, headed for his police car. “Actually, that’s...why I’m here. I’m... I’m researching a role. A law enforcement role.. with Y/N.” She explains giving you a quick side eye, you turn your head away from them, trying to hold in laughter. No fucking way is this cop gonna believe that load of bullshit. “In Jackpine Cove? We haven’t had a murder here in years.” He tells her. “Oh, uh...it’s about, um...a small-town cop who takes down a drug cartel. In fact, maybe I could tag along while you conduct some official police business? I promise...I won’t get in the way. I just...I think you could really, um...help develop my character, if I could live a day in the life, you know.” She tells him, hoping her little fib will do the trick. He nods carefully thinking it over, “Day in the life, huh? Eh..Come on. Follow me.” You’re eyes widen as your mouth drops open, how in the fuck? And she didn’t even have to rumor him, Allison you sly dog. She gives you a hopeful glance as the two of them start walking towards his car leaving you in the dust.

“It’s fine, I’ll just trail along...gotta get the car....that you’re leaving in traffic.” You grumble as they shut their doors, you walk over to your own vehicle. Opening up the door and getting inside.

——

When you finally made it to the hospital, Officer Cheddar wouldn’t allow you near the wounded victim, calling it official police business or some shit. Allison gave you an apologetic look as you walked out the sliding glass doors without another word. 

Leaning against your car, you watch cars come and go, birds going about their day, and listen to the sweet sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. Ever grateful for the lack of car horns honking every ten seconds. As well as the usual nasty smells radiating from parts of the city and coming from god knows where else. You close your eyes, letting your mind wander.

What was happening with Diego? Is Five’s injury healed yet? Was Klaus okay? And where the hell was Vanya? So many questions and concerns throwing themselves at you, and oh right. There’s an apocalypse happening within the week. Things just are not going tremendously well this week, well that’s not entirely true. Considering you’ve had some pretty stellar times with Diego here and there, all very nice times indeed. Ah, but of course, Allison would get to have a fun little detective adventure with the local idiot. And she didn’t even have to rumor him! Even now she always gets what she wants, she always has, no..stop..you can’t think like that. You stopped giving a shit about who got the most attention long ago, you’re not about to start feeling resentment now. But your mind can’t help itself as it starts to saunter into darker grounds.

———

“Number Eight, if you weren’t so focused on the safety of Number Two, this mission would have been an utter success. But due to your lack of consistency when engaging in combat, you deliberately discontinued the annihilation of those four crime bosses. Jeopardizing the lives of their hostages, and all so Number Two wouldn’t get shot.....wounds heal.” Snaps Sir Reginald Hargreeves, as the whole of the Umbrella Academy plus yourself, sit around the dinner table. He’s verbally beating you down for saving Diego’s life on the Umbrella Academy’s latest mission. Where all of you surprise attacked a crime boss and his minions in his own mansion. You freed multiple people that where there due to human trafficking and other depraved things concerning illegal drugs and whatnot. It was successful to say the least, but a maid got shot in the arm when you decided to save Diego’s life instead. A mistake that Sir Reginald would not miss, nor would he ignore.

You glare up at him from across the table, “That maid survived. What? Would you rather have Diego die, or have a normal civilian live with some small injuries?” You ask him, as calmly as you can muster. He puts his fork down, sitting back, “You are part of the Umbrella Academy. Act like it. I will have no further arguments out of you for the rest of this meal, is that understood?” He replies sternly, cutting you off from further arguing, he takes a bite from his fork while watching your every move. You clench your jaw in frustration, no matter what you say he won’t care, “I understand.” You mutter through clenched teeth, turning away to focus sourly on your meal that you could care less about enjoying at the moment. The rest of dinner is held in an awkward silence.

As you’re returning to your room, Luther comes walking around the corner, headed for his own one. “Why do you always try and talk back to him? I mean, he is kinda right. You should have helped that woman, that’s what we’re there for.” Explains Luther as the two of you walk down the hallway.

“Of course you’d agree with him, why do I even bother.” You growl at him, rolling your eyes.

 Suddenly Allison walks out of her room, joining the two of you stopped in the hallway.

“If you’re here to tell me I was wrong for talking back I’ll shove my foot up your ass.” You deadpan, her face grimacing in disgust.

“That’s lovely. But a little advice, Y/N, if you want to stay on his good side, just shut your mouth and try to be less of an asshole.” She tells you like a scolding mother, you shake your head at them, “All you two have to do is exist and follow everything daddy tells you. While the rest of us get kicked under the rug. He likes you two the best, you know. But I don’t even need to tell you...I’m positive you both are capable of already understanding that.” You whisper yell at them, sick of all their high and mighty comments, just don’t talk and let Reginald boss you around. No way. “Whatever.” Mumbles Allison. “You just don’t know how to be normal, or how to not be a smartass.” Sasses Luther rudely.

“What? We are literally the closest thing from normal for fucks sake.” You snap at him giving him a what-the-hell-are-you-serious face, he crosses his arms in annoyance.

“Don’t swear. You know we can’t say stuff like that. Dad or Pogo might hear. And Y/N, stop trying to start stuff. You wonder why Dad makes sure you’re last for everything, he doesn’t exactly like you as much....then again neither do I.” You look at him with a poker face, trying your hardest not to bitchslap him right now. It’s honestly incredibly tempting.

“I’m really feeling the family love, Luther. And by the way.....all of you suck.” You add bluntly, flipping them off as you turn on your heel and walk angrily into your room, slamming the door in their faces. 

You sat in the middle of your floor for a good hour just fuming with quiet rage, until everything started to simmer down. They all get on your nerves to no end, and the only ones you can stand for longer then two hours are Vanya and Ben. Klaus is fun for awhile, that is on most occasions, until he starts trying to get you to see how long you can hold your hand over a flame before it hurts to much. Oddly fascinated with your ability to rapidly heal yourself, oddly enough you’ll usually do it, but you can only take Klaus in small doses. Then there’s Diego, who you’ve formed a solid love/hate relationship with. He’s just so weird, one minute he’s acting super cute and funny and trying to impress you or show off his knife skills so incredibly hard. Then a second later. Luther, Allison, or Reginald walks into the room and he’s being a jerk. Pretending like you don’t exist, and acting like such a hard-ass, it’s stupid. Klaus swears he’s got the fattest crush on you, but sometimes you’re not so sure, that kid gives you hella mixed signals.

Suddenly you hear a knock at the door, “If it’s you Luther, I’ll shank you with a paintbrush.” You tell this mystery person, crossing your arms as you look up at the door. You hear a soft chuckle from the other side, “No need. It’s just Diego....uh...could I come in? Please?” He whispers from the other side, your heart swells and you quickly get up to open it. “What’s up loser, I hope you’re not here to crush all my hopes and dreams.” You quip opening up the door wider so he can walk in, you closing it once again. He walks over to your carpet, sitting down by a bunch of random pillows. You soon follow, sitting across from him. “So, whatcha doin here?” You awkwardly ask him, confused as to why he’s in your room, not that you mind, but still. He fiddles with one of his daggers, looking down at his hands, “Uh, I wanted to say thanks for saving my ass yesterday. Sorry you took the fall for it, that was pretty badass of you to stand up to Dad.” He tells you still avoiding eye contact, you smile at him, “Well, I’d rather not have my favorite frisbee partner kick the bucket.” He smiles at that, finally looking up at you. “Yeah, we make a pretty good team, huh.” He glances down again at his dagger, nervously twisting it in his hands, “So, uh, Y/N. I..uh...have something to um...tell you.” He looks up at you, you can hear the thumping of his heartbeat quicken as a light blush dusts his cheeks, he continues, “Please don’t think I’m weird...but I really...like..yo..” Before he can finish his declaration of how he truly feels for you, the door bursts open. Revealing Luther and an angry Reginald, “Number Two. Number Eight. You were strictly told to go to your rooms and not come out until morning. I will have none of this, Number Two, out!” He snaps.

“I’m already in my room.”

He gives you a deadly warning glare as Diego gives you a sad look before bolting out the door. Reginald following as Luther gives you a snide smile, practically silently laughing at you. Fuck off, Diego was about to tell me something important you pricks. You would have liked to say, but thought otherwise, a wonderful moment utterly ruined.

———

Oh the fun childhood memories that stay with you to this day, intrusively barging their way back into your brain when you’re alone. Damn they all were little pricks back in the day, huh. All you tried to do was stand up for others and keep them safe, but all that the others wanted was to desperately please Reginald at any given opportunity. And that was the first time Diego truly opened up to you, it was short lived, but it was the start of something amazing.

“Y/N! Y/N! Hey!” Shouts Allison who’s running to you, your head snaps up at the sudden noise.

“What? I can hear you, calm down.” You tell her, pushing yourself off the car door.

“Vanya and Leonard Peabody were just here this morning. They were here, when we were at the cabin, they must have come back. We gotta go.” She hurriedly rambles, taking the keys out of your hand and opening up the drivers side. 

“Well shit.” You run around to the passengers seat, hoping in quickly, as Allison takes off towards the cabin.

The drive is thankfully short, but by now the suns beginning to set as a new darkness starts to engulf the land. It’s beautiful and calming to feel the night air and listen to the wind sway the pines back and forth. But you have no time to fully enjoy it, to worried and on guard for what you and Allison might run into.

“What the hell. Why’s it so windy all of a sudden.” You say aloud, shutting the car door and turning to walk up the gravel driveway. “Yeah, this is definitely odd.” Mutters Allison, equally as puzzled.

As you both reach the porch, the sound of Vanya’s violin wafts its way out and into the quiet night air. It’s beautiful, with the exception of all the lights and other porch furniture that’s swaying to the wind, er music. You’re not completely sure what’s going on. “Vanya? Is that you?” Shouts Allison as she looks into a window, quickly walking up to the door and opening it. No regard for safety, come on Allison we talked about this, you think to yourself as you follow her into the windy cabin. “Vanya, there you are. What is going on?” Allison half yells, bringing Vanya’s attention to the two of you. “Hey V.” You wave at her awkwardly, as she stops playing her violin.

“What are you two doing here?” She questions, trying to figure out how you would have found her, and most importantly why?

“We came to find you. Are you okay?” Allison worries. “Yeah.” Vanya says with a small but confused smile.

“Vans, you wouldn’t happen to know what’s causing all the spooky ghost wind? Now would you?” You question her, giving the room a short look around.

“Me.”

Allison walks in closer, “What do you mean, me?” She asks, confusion clear on her features. You furrow your brows, puzzled as well. “I mean....I made those things happen. With my powers. Turns out I’ve had them all this time. It’s weird, huh?” Vanya tells the both of you, her voice holding a tinge of resentment.

“It’s in..it’s incredible.” Allison gasps, shocked and amazed at this new information.

Vanya’s face falls, “But?”

“Can we just leave now. We’ll all have a nice lovely conversation about it in the car.” You rush, feeling the tension in the room starting to increase, as you attempt to get things rolling.

“Why?” Wonders Vanya. Allison glances down for a moment, sighing softly, “You’re not gonna want to hear it.” She warns, oh right, we gotta tell Vanya about her psychotic boyfriend. That’s gonna go well.

“Well, that’s never stopped you before.” She adds dryly, ouch. But well deserved.

“Leonard Peabody? His real name is Harold Jenkins.” Allison pauses for a moment, letting the information sink into Vanya, “Remember when I couldn’t find anything in the library on Leonard? It’s because Leonard Peabody doesn’t exist. Harold Jenkins does.” She explains, Vanya listens in silence, not sure what to believe anymore.

“She’s right. He was in prison for 12 years. The sick fuck murdered his father when he was 13...his pops might have had it coming..but still.” You tell her, further backing up Allison’s facts.

“This is...insane. His dad was an engineer at the..” Allison cuts her off, “I have the police report in the car, Vanya. I can show you.”

“I don’t...I don’t understand.” Vanya says shaking her head, not believing in these obscene facts. You walk closer to Allison, who’s standing a couple feet away from Vanya. “Leonard, Harold, Yeah man. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, and it sounds crazy. But we were in his house, this wack-job has pictures of us with our eyes gouged out.” You urge, trying to help her understand. Her brows furrow in agitated bewilderment, “Wh..What?” She starts as Allison quickly interrupts her, “I promise I will tell you everything in the car, but it is not safe.” Rushes Allison worriedly as she grabs Vanya’s arm, pulling her a couple feet towards the door. “No, stop.” Objects Vanya, sitting down in a rocking chair, Allison falling to her knees in front of her. “Look, um...I can’t imagine how hard it is for you to hear this...how you feel right now, but I..I love you, and I just...I wanna be here for you, as your sister.” Pleads Allison, desperately trying to get Vanya moving and away from this place. You stand back, folding your arms in concern, you can feel a heavy uneasiness crawling over the room.

“There’s just no way. I love him. This just doesn’t make any sense. And this power...I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what to do.” Mutters Vanya, her face washing over in troubled distress, overwhelmed by everything that’s happening.

“Now I understand.” Whispers Allison, apparently remembering a long forgotten memory, “When we were four. Dad told us you were sick. You had to be isolated. We were so young. None of us knew to question it. But then he asked me to do something I never understood...until now. He made me an accomplice.” Explains Allison shamefully, bowing her head down in disgust for what she did. You watch Vanya’s shocked face, you had no idea any of this happened. And clearly neither did she.

 “You did this to me?” Whispers Vanya.

“I...I didn’t realize.”

“You knew this whole time? That I had powers!” Shouts Vanya, getting up off the rocking chair in a fury. “No, no! I didn’t understand until we came today, until I saw it.” Pleads Allison standing up as well. You just stand back and continue to watch the shit-show, damn, this family continues to surprise you to no end.

“Well, now it all makes sense. This is why you never wanted me around.” She cries, anger and sadness fueling her.

 “What? No!”

“You couldn’t risk me threatening your place in the house, your...your dominance.” Vanya continues, her temper rising by the minute. “That is not true.” Adds Allison, Vanya screaming back, “You couldn’t handle the fact that Dad might find me special.”

“You are special, with or without powers.” Snaps Allison desperately. 

“Don’t...Don’t say that!” Screams Vanya, her face a mask of hurt and anger. “We have a chance to start over.” Allison tells her calmly, Vanya not buying into anything, “You destroyed my life!” She yells. You throw your hands up to your hypersensitive ears, not being able to stand the shouting anymore.

“Oh, come on Vanya. Everything is out in the open. We can move on.” Begs Allison getting frustrated. Vanya shakes her head, “Oh, I’m moving on. But not with you, or Y/N, with Leonard.” She snaps, you interject for the first time, “With Harold, the crazy bastard remember.” She ignores you, screaming back, “With Leonard! The only person who has ever loved me for me!” Allison stands back, lightly chuckling at the ridiculous thought of this random psychopath loving anyone. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not threatened now.” Says Vanya calmly, you look around you as the wind begins to pick up in the cabin once again, shit.

“I don’t wanna argue with you.” Begins Allison, Vanya vocalizing her rage, “Then go! I don’t want your help!” She wails, you cover your sensitive ears tighter.

“Vanya, I love you!” Allison cries, begging her to listen.

“Stop saying that!” Screams Vanya, even louder then before. Allison’s face scrunches up in confusion as she looks around the windy room, “Are you okay?”

“I said go!” A second later the lights above Allison shatter, raining down glass into your hair and hers. “Please don’t make me do this.” Begs Allison, at her whits end, and out of ideas on what to do about Vanya’s growing outrage. You take a step back, your legs hitting the front of the couch, afraid of what she’s about to do next, “I heard a rumor..” Allison begrudgingly starts, without warning Vanya reacts with lighting speed, you watch on in horror as Vanya whips her violin string across Allison’s vulnerable throat. Slitting it in one clean motion, your eyes shoot over to a shocked Allison, then deep red blood begins pooling out of her neck. Her eyes go wide as she raises her hands to stop the bleeding, you and Vanya race over to her as she begins to fall to the carpeted floor. “Allison!” Screams Vanya, terrified at what she had just done. “I didn’t mean to...I didn’t....I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She cries, glancing at you then back to Allison as hot tears begin streaming down her face. You listen to the strained gasps coming from Allison, as you rip off the bottom of your shirt and place it firmly where the injury is, doing your best to stop the bleeding. While Vanya’s hyperventilating next to you, you can hear Leonard urging her to get up and follow him out the door. He rushes over, grabbing her arm roughly and pulling her away, you snap out of your trance of saving Allison’s life.

Racing after them, Leonard shoves a hysterical Vanya out the door, before he whips around to face you, who’s staring daggers at him from the doorway.

“The Olympian. It’s an honor to finally meet you.” He says with an agitating grin as you sneer at him.

“Well, I wouldn’t stay to excited about it for much longer.” You snap, he chuckles at that while taking a step back.

In an instant you lunge at him, pushing him ferociously into the porch railing, the boards snap as they catch his weight. He staggers to his feet, wiping a smear of blood from his mouth and letting out a ragged cough while giving you a sly smile as he goes to picks up Vanya, “You won’t be able to move for quit awhile. And that’s all we need.” He tells you mysteriously, turning away and hastily limping down the steps, hand in hand with Vanya. You snap out of your daze, going to take a step to finish the job when your stomach has the most intensely jarring sharp pain, practically screaming at you to stop. You look down, this fucker stabbed you with a Swiss Army knife. “Goddammit.” You groan, grabbing its hilt and pulling it painfully out of you. Some blood squirts out and drips onto the wooden floor. You grimace, lifting the bloody blade up to your nose, you take a small sniff. “Oh fuck.” You deadpan, he coated the blade with some type of poison. You’re not sure what from, but you can tell its been tampered with, this dick knew what the fuck he was about, damn he must really hate the Umbrella Academy.

Knowing you probably only have a couple minutes left before the toxins fully reach into your system. You drop the knife, stumbling over to a barely conscious Allison. You fall to the floor, grabbing the arm of the couch with your left hand. Your whole body feels sick and you start to sweat heavily, you’re not sure if you’re about to vomit or not. Luckily it passes, replaced by an intense agonizing pain stabbing at your stomach, at least you can still breath. You crawl to Allison’s legs, leaning yourself against the couch, fighting to keep yourself awake, you have to stay awake, you have to fight through the poison that’s desperately trying to kill you. But everything feels so fuzzy and you can hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. It’s deafening. Nonetheless you crawl forward, reaching your right hand up to press gently onto her bleeding wound. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been slumped on the floor in agony, straining to keep your eyes open as bloody drool seeps out from the side of your mouth. But you could have swore you just heard the sound of car doors slamming shut. A moment later the screen door bursts open, Luther entering first, followed by Klaus, Five, and Diego. Luther races over to Allison’s left side, since your slowly dying on her right. Klaus kneels down in front of you, lifting your head up, it’s so hard to move, your body feels like it’s on fire and tied down by a thousand ship anchors.

“Y/N, what happened? What’s wrong with you?” Pleads Klaus breathlessly, terrified that you’re not healing right away. It’s how poison works, it won’t kill you, but damn will it keep you awake in a half dying state until the affects wear off.

Diego suddenly materializes from up above you, your vision is so blurry, you could barely tell it’s him. You can’t clearly make out a single comprehensible word from either of them. But a minute later you can feel yourself being lifted, and carefully carried out the door and down the steps. Where you’re then put into a car, your head and shoulder is leaning against something soft and warm. Presumably Diego or Klaus but you can’t tell anymore. Then the vehicle begins to move, the dull rumbling of the engine, forcing you into a half-conscious state. You don’t remember the ride home.

[sunsetcurbed]

i’ll keep us together (whatever it takes)

Pairing: Alex/Willie  Words: 9,237 Rating: T  Warnings: none read on AO3 

Summary:  “Willie,” Julie’s voice sounds.  “Hey, Julie,” Willie greets. “I—uh—“ “Can Alex not see you?” she whispers. Okay, so… right. Right. This is a thing. (*) (or: alex has changed, and he's all but taken away from willie. willie doesn't settle for that.) I found out that apparently tumblr doesn’t post link posts in the tags unless they get a lot of notes so I’m reposting this as a text post and also posting the fic here on tumblr as well! Fic under the read more. :) 

(*)

"Hey," Willie cheers, watching as Alex walks into the garage, head hanging down. Alex doesn't look up, just walks over and flops dramatically on the couch. Willie laughs at his boyfriend, and follows over. "Hey, hot dog," he calls again. Alex still doesn't look up. Furrowing his eyebrows, Willie crouches down next to him and reaches out to shake Alex's shoulder.

His hand passes through.

Willie draws his hand back quickly in surprise, and stares down at it. He reaches again, and again, his hand passes through Alex.

He scrambles to his feet and looks around. Something's wrong. Something—he's not sure what's going on, but something…

He steps back, and back, and back, until he's standing in the middle of the studio, and rushes through the open door. He stands in the driveway for a minute, struggling with his thoughts, until—

"Willie," Julie's voice whispers.

His head snaps up and he sees her walking down the pathway from her house. They found out last year that Julie could see all ghosts, and that her power extended beyond they band in that aspect. Unfortunately, Willie didn't share their powers in becoming visible when playing an instrument, which was one of the first things they tried, right after trying to rid Willie of Caleb's stamp. Neither had worked.

"Hey, Julie," Willie greets. "I—uh—"

"Can he not see you?" she whispers.

Okay, so… right. Right. This is a thing. She already knew about it, which—

"No. Why can't he?"

Julie walks towards him and offers a smile. But it's—it's a sad smile, one that Willie knows is accompanied by bad news. Suddenly, he regrets asking. "He's alive."

What?

No, seriously, what?

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know… unfinished business. Does… do you know if 'crossing over' means back to the world of the living?"

"I—I-I don't know? I wouldn't think so? I've never see someone cross over. I just thought…"

"We did, too," Julie says. "But the guys… we signed today. With a record label."

"What? That's awesome!" Alex had mentioned Destiny Management but he hadn't said they were officially signing.

"It is," she says, but her voice doesn't sound like it. "After each one of them signed, they came back to life, though. Heart, blood, eating, sleeping, everything."

Willie shakes his head. "But they should have…"

"We always thought that when they did their unfinished business, they'd… go to heaven, or whatever. But apparently crossing over, at least for them, meant crossing over back to the living."

"So Alex…"

"He's not like me," Julie frowns. "He can't see you."

"Fuck," Willie curses. There's a noise in the studio, and Willie turns around and sees Alex through the window, walking towards the driveway. "I—I gotta go," he stammers, and then he's gone from there and landing in the sand on the beach, where he had thought he and Alex would spend their time tonight.

Fuck, he thinks. All the pain the last year and a half has brought—the battle with Caleb for his soul, the fight between them all with Caleb, defeating the man who'd held him captive for years, and finally getting to be with Alex, stress free—all that pain and stress were for nothing, weren't they? Because Willie doesn't even have Alex anymore, the person who inspired him to fight back. The person who made it worth it. The person who was there to hold him after Caleb's hold on him broke will never be able to hold him again.

Not unless—

Willie's got work to do.

(*)

The next time Willie sees Alex is at the skate park, three months after it happened. Alex is leaning on the fence, staring at the bowl with sad eyes. He watches the people in the park fly up and down the ramps, and clings to the fence with a tight fist. Willie skates out of the park and passes through the fence to stand next to Alex.

"I miss you, too," he says, knowing that Alex can't hear him. "I mean, I haven't gone to Julie's studio looking for you like you're here, but. It's different when I can see you. You're living with the memory of me. I'm living with the reality of seeing you and hearing you, but not being able to interact."

Alex looks away from the skate park and towards the beach. His fingers curl tighter around the chain link fence until his knuckles turn white.

"I'm trying for you, man," Willie says, his voice high and tight. "I don't even know if I'll become human again like you did, but it's worth a shot. Even if I don't become human, at least I'll cross over and I won't have to be alone anymore. Maybe? I don't actually know where I'd go if I didn't become human again. I might still be alone. There might not be anything waiting for me. That's not as scary as having to live for an eternity without you, though. Or, not without you, but. Like this. Having you but… not really."

Alex draws in a shaky breath, and Willie poofs to his other side to get a glimpse of his face. His eyes are wet and he's chewing his bottom lip. He's doing everything he can not to cry, and that breaks Willie.

"I'm sorry," Willie whimpers. "I know I meant it way back when, when I said we never should have met, but that was because I almost got you guys killed. Once you were better, I didn't think I could ever feel that way again. But maybe I was right, even beyond that. Maybe it would be better if we'd never met. It'd be better for you." He reaches out a hand for Alex, but quickly drops it back to his side when he remembers he can't make contact anymore. He draws in a deep breath, but it hitches involuntarily. "But we did meet. We did, and now you have to live with the consequences of that. Is that what they are? Consequences? I guess so. I wish I could undo this all. Not—not you getting a second chance at life. You deserve it. But… I wish I could undo us."

Alex releases his grip on the fence and walks forward, right through Willie. Willie spins on his heel and watches Alex take a seat on a bench a few feet away. He looks up and around and finally, the tears fall from his eyes. Willie feels sick.

"No, I don't," he says in a rush. "God, I wish I wished I could undo us but I could never willingly give you up, Alex. No matter how much it hurts. Even though you're hurting I know you'll move on. That's how it works, right? God, we were only together for a little over a year, we only knew each other for a year and a half. That's hardly a lifetime love story, right? You'll find someone better—someone alive, and… and…"

And Willie can't do this anymore.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, taking in one last look at Alex's tearful face before poofing away.

(*)

The next time, he finds Alex at his grave. At Alex's grave.

See, Alex had asked him to go with him back in January. He'd needed to see what his tombstone said (Alex Mercer / December 18th 1978 – July 21st 1995 / Your song will live on forever.) and come to terms, fully, with his death. Willie had been more than happy to go with him, to hold him through his tears as he saw that his parents had actually put something dedicated to him, even if it was as small as an acknowledgment to his music. Ever since Alex crossed over, Willie has come here a few times a month to talk to the boy, because it's easier talking to a grave than it is to a person who won't respond.

When Willie reaches the grave, Alex is just standing there, staring at the headstone. He doesn't say anything, and neither does Willie. Instead, Willie looks around for another tomb with flowers on it. When he finds one, he plucks a single flower from the bouquet and walks over to Alex's grave again, and lays the flower down on the headstone.

Alex gasps. "Hello?" he murmurs. "Is… Willie?" he asks hopefully.

Willie doesn't have the heart to ignore him, so he picks the flower up again and hands it to the boy. Alex takes it reluctantly. "I miss you," Willie says, even though he knows Alex won't hear him.

"I miss you," Alex says, and Willie blinks. "God, I—I'm not even allowed to be upset about crossing over because I… I get to be with my band, and I'm, Willie, we're fucking going on tour. We're only opening, but we're touring. They think we'll be headlining our own tour in the next year or two. How am I supposed to be upset about that, right? But I—but I am. Because I have to do it without you and that's—that's not fair. That wasn't part of the deal, right? We were supposed to be fucking ghosts together. Not… God, I feel so ripped off. Julie said she could still see you, she didn't want to tell me but didn't think it was fair to keep it from me. Why can't I? Why the fuck can't I? I was a ghost and I can't see you anymore? Just because—just because I have blood in my veins again? You made me feel alive. You brought me back to life. And now I'm in this weird pseudo life phase where I'm actually alive but I feel just like I did when I came back as a ghost. Before I met you."

He shakes his head and Willie takes a step closer. He reaches out, but before he can try to lay a hand on Alex's arm, he remembers. He drops his hand.

"Reg says I'll move on, used that stupid 'you'll never forget your first ghost' line again, but that only worked when we'd known each other for two weeks. Two weeks and I was already moping over you, and then you were taken away after an entire year, after I—after I—it's not fair," Alex huffs. "I sound like such a child but it's not. Julie and Luke got their happy ending. Fuck, even Reg has someone now. Of course it probably won't last—after all it's his third relationship in five months, but. But he has that option. And I—Ray's making us go to school to finish off senior year and this kid from chemistry asked me out but—I'm not ready for that. God, I'm scared I'll never be ready for that. Luke told me to go for it, that maybe I need to be with someone to get my mind off of you, but I know that all I'll do is compare the two of you."

Tears are falling freely from Alex's eyes, and Willie wants nothing more than to reach up and brush them away, just like he did the last time they were at this grave together. He takes the flower from Alex's hand, plucks a petal off, and uses it as a towel to wipe Alex's face dry. Alex tosses his head back and laughs.

"Thank you," he says. He's quiet for a long moment, and Willie thinks he said everything that needed to be said. But then he draws in a deep breath. "I… I think one of the worst parts is that I never got to say goodbye. That I'll never get closure. Did you get as much out of our relationship as I did? Was it worth it to you? Are you hurting, too?" He pauses. His voice drops in to a whisper as he asks, "did you love me like I loved you?"

Willie frowns, and hands the flower back to Alex. Alex wraps his fingers around the stem, and toys with the petals with his other hand.

"See, I don't even know what you're trying to say, here," Alex admits. "I'm hoping you're saying yes, but maybe you're not. What if you're not even Willie, just a kind ghost who noticed I needed someone?" Willie grabs the flower out of Alex's hand, raises it up, and bonks Alex's forehead with it. "Okay, maybe not," he says, and there's a laugh in his voice, but there are tears in his eyes. He laughs then, but it comes out as a sob instead and he stumbles back. "Fuck," he says slowly.

Willie twirls the flower between his fingers and watches as Alex just… stares. He's just staring at the flower, disbelieving.

"I… God, I'm so relieved you're here, but it hurts so bad that I can't see you, you know? But—do you have it any easier? Being able to see me and hear me but knowing I can't see or hear or feel you? I feel like that'd be just as hard. I remember how helpless I felt when I was a ghost. This isn't—this isn't fair. Last year we had eternity together. And—that just gets ripped away? Do you even care—" Willie hits him with the flower again. "—okay. So you do. We both cared. So much. And… now look at us. I'm essentially talking to myself, on the verge of a panic attack, and you're… You're visiting my grave. I'm visiting my grave. Fuck this is all so fucked. I miss you."

Willie hands the flower back to Alex, hoping that he'll pick up that Willie misses him too.

Alex stares at the petals and draws in a breath. "I just wish—"

"Hey, mijo," a new voice comes in. Willie whips around to see the approaching figure, a tall, slim man with greying hair. He recognizes him as Julie's dad, and while he's never directly interacted with the man, hanging around with Alex and the band so much last year meant he could at least pick him out of a crowd. Julie's dad walks up beside Alex and looks down at the head stone. "Wow, that's really you."

Alex laughs. "Yeah. I really died. That's why I come here. To remind myself my entire experience as a ghost wasn't some weird fever dream. That it…" he looks down at the flower and holds it up to Julie's dad. "That it was all real."

"That'd be some fever dream," Julie's dad chuckles, clapping a hand on Alex's shoulder. For a moment, Willie expects the man's hand to pass right through, but when it doesn't, he cringes. Yet another reminder. "Are you ready to go, then?"

"Yeah, thanks for coming to get me. Can I just have one more minute? I'll meet you at the car?"

"Of course, mijo."

Julie's dad walks away and Alex stares at his headstone. "I miss you, Willie. I hope you run into me again," he says with a light in his voice, and Willie is taken back to their very first meeting. He reaches for the flower and takes it from Alex, bopping his face one more time. Then he passes the flower back, and Alex looks at it with wonderment on his face. "Bye," he murmurs, and then turns to walk towards the parked car waiting for him.

Willie waits until Alex slides into the passenger seat and shuts the door before drawing in a shaky breath and poofing away.

(*)

He can't stay away after that.

He knows Alex is living with Julie now (the Molinas, according to the painted stone next to their porch) so he stops by after school hours to just… see him. Alex, of course, has no idea that he's there, at least not at first. But then Willie starts to get bolder.

Alex will be sat at the dining room table doing his homework and Willie will see him answer a calculus problem wrong. When Alex walks away for a snack, Willie will take a piece of notebook paper out and redo the problem(s). When Alex gets back he looks around with a frown. He clearly isn't sure if it's Willie or not, and Willie's not sure he wants him to know, not until a few weeks in when he finds Alex crying in the studio. He's clearly on the verge of a panic attack, something that Willie'd seen many times, and helped him through multiple times. He's never felt so helpless, watching Alex breaking down and not being able to do anything.

He can, though, he realizes.

He goes into Alex's notebook and grabs a pen.

Hey, hot dog.

Alex drags in a shaky breath when the pen starts moving by itself, and once he reads the message he lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. "Willie," he whispers.

What can I do to help?

Alex smiles at the paper. "Nothing, you're—you being here helps."

Do you need to do breathing exercises? You can follow the pen.

"No," Alex shakes his head. "No, I'm good. Just—just talk to me?"

Can't talk. How's writing?

He rolls his eyes. "You know what I meant, asshole."

Guilty.

"How have you been? Where have you been? Why is this the first time you're—that you've actually contacted me?"

I've been around. I'd say correcting your calc homework counts as contacting you. It's me saying "wow you suck at math, which you've told me in the past but now I have hardcore proof."

He can't tell him that he's been trying to work out his unfinished business. He can't give Alex hope where there might not be any—not when there's no promise that Willie will figure out his unfinished business, and not when there's no promise he'll come back to life. He wants Alex to know he's trying—trying for him, but it's not fair. None of this is fair, but that'd be… really unfair to Alex. Especially if he's sitting here hoping for Willie to come back to life and one day he realizes it's been months since he's heard from Willie and Willie has no way to tell him that he's crossed over, but not to the living. It's all… it's too complicated. Willie doesn't even think he'd be able to put it into words.

"Hey, I've been doing pretty good in calc!" Alex yells. "I have a B, thanks."

"Thanks." You're welcome. I'm the reason you have a B.

Alex opens his mouth, then shuts it. "You know, you're probably right. You working out those problems is actually really helpful and helps me understand what I did wrong."

I've always needed to see someone do the math before I got it, maybe you're the same.

"Probably." Alex sighs, running his hands through his hair. He's stopped crying, but his face is still red and puffy, and his breathing is still labored. "How have you been though? I… you can see me, I can't see you. Are you okay?"

I miss you, but that's to be expected.  Life  Death has been a lot lately. I'm  surviving  okay though.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Alex asks, voice genuine. Willie bites his lip. God, he—this is why he fell in love with this boy. Even on the verge of a panic attack he wants to help someone else.

No. You being here helps.

"Hey, that's my line."

I'm stealing it.

Alex laughs, and his breath evens out a little bit. "Should have known, you can't be as smooth as me."

I'm sorry, who had the gay panic when we met? And every time we saw each other for literally the next four months? Who RAN AWAY after kissing me? You want to talk about smooth?

"Those were very weak moments in my life, I ask you to forget everything before we started dating and only remember me as charming."

Oh, trust me, the gay panic was very charming, too.

"See, maybe it was all a ploy. My gay panic was me being smooth."

I wouldn't take it that far.

"Too late you already admitted it."

Willie laughs and reaches for Alex's hand, forgetting for just a moment. It passes through the other boy and he grimaces. He draws his hand back and tucks his hair behind his ear, and stares at the paper in front of him.

So what's it like recording an album? Everything you ever dreamed of?

"Oh, man, it's so cool," Alex gushes. Words fly out his mouth so fast that Willie struggles to keep up, but he just lets Alex's voice wash over him. The switch has been flipped—Alex is no longer panicking, and Willie's loneliness has ebbed.

It carries on like this for nearly an hour, Willie fills up two and a half sheets of paper, and Alex is careful to fold each one and stick it in his pocket. Willie knows he'll be storing them somewhere in his room. It's what Willie would do, anyways, and in certain regards, Alex and Willie are very similar. He's careful not to reveal too much to Alex, though. He doesn't want Alex to feel guilty, or to cling to hope, or…

He doesn't want to tell Alex he loves him on a sheet of paper. He can't do that to either of them—that'd be giving Alex too much to cling to, and it'd be taking away Willie's dream of telling him face to face. So when it's time for them to say goodbye (Alex looks at the clock, frowning. "The band is gonna be here in ten minutes for practice.") Willie simply scribbles down I'll see you around, hot dog. Alex's face goes soft, and Willie can't stop staring at it.

He wishes he could stay for band practice, but he can't face Julie. He can't, not when it'd break him to be able to talk with her and not the one person he really wants to talk to. He also thinks it might be too hard on Alex, to see Julie see Willie, and know that he can't. It'd be too hard on both of them, so once Alex says goodbye, he poofs away. He ends up on the streets of Hollywood and looks around. He sets his skateboard on the ground and skates off, aimlessly.

He has nowhere to go, nowhere to be.

(*)

Willie keeps correcting his calc homework, but now Alex knows who it is and starts thanking him. They have a few more half-written, half-spoken conversations over the next few months, but Willie tries to limit them so Alex doesn't get too attached.

(He laughs as he thinks that, understanding that Alex has always been attached, and interacting with him is only encouraging that. But Willie can't stay away, okay?)

He sees Luke and Reggie some, after all, the boys spend a lot of time in the studio together, especially when Julie is hanging out with Flynn. Willie never talks to Alex at these times, but sometimes he'll speak out loud, answer parts of the conversation that the guys are having, even though he knows they can't hear him.

(Yeah, okay, he's dangerously attached, too.)

He avoids Julie at all costs, he doesn't want her to know, and he knows Alex hasn't told any of them because Alex has said he hasn't told any of them, so. Willie believes him and knows why. Because Alex knows Julie would ask Willie to let Alex move on, and… honestly, neither Alex or Willie are ready for that.

"Technically you're still my boyfriend," Alex says one day. "We never broke up."

It's almost our two year anniversary.

"Yeah," Alex nods. "Two more months. God, it's been nine months without you?"

Not technically without me. I've been around a lot.

"It's been nine months since I last saw you," he amends. He rubs his eyes. "That's too damn long."

It's been nine months since I've held your hand. :(

Alex shakes his head. "I always felt bad for Julie and Luke, but… I never… it never clicked how hard it must have been before she could touch us. At least she could see and talk to us, though. Why can't I have her powers?"

Would her powers really be worth it? Because I can tell you that it SUCKS being able to see you but not being able to touch you. It's torture.

"Maybe you only say that because you've never had to sit alone talking to a piece of notebook paper before," Alex shoots back, but he's smiling.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Smiling. Willie knows it's because of him—he knows Alex and it's not hard to put two and two together. It's hard to miss the way Alex physically brightens every time he knows Willie is there, and the way he reaches for calculus homework before anything else, and leaves his calculus out sitting next to him when he's working on all of his other homework, as if calling for Willie. It works, too, most of the time. When Willie's not out trying to resolve his unfinished business, he's around the Molina household, avoiding Julie.

That had created an issue—Alex quickly realized that Willie disappeared whenever Julie came around, so he stopped hanging around Julie as much. Julie had tried apologizing for "whatever I did, Alex, I'm so sorry." Alex had to patiently tell her that it was nothing—he was just dealing with some personal problems and he ran away from the guys, too. She had tried to offer help, but he said he dealt better with problems on his own, which Willie laughed at when Alex recounted the conversation because Alex was helpless dealing with his issues alone. He told him as much and Alex flipped off the air in front of him.

This piece of notebook paper is offended. What's so bad about talking to notebook paper?

"I can't kiss a sheet of notebook paper," Alex points out. "Well—technically I could. Don't think it'd measure up to kissing my boyfriend, though."

Willie grins. It's impossible, and he knows he can't let it go on like this for much longer—it's been nine months of trying to figure out his unfinished business and he feels no closer than when he started—but it feels so good to be Alex's boyfriend still. He puts the pen to the piece of paper, and then picks it back up because—no. He still can't tell Alex he loves him. He's planning to leave Alex a note once it hits a year, telling him goodbye and asking him to move on. He'll be doubling his efforts to try and solve his unfinished business in the mean time, but he thinks—how cruel would it be to leave Alex with the knowledge that he lost someone who loved him, too? Because Alex has said he loved Willie—back Alex's grave he had asked if Willie loved him too and.

You wouldn't be able to kiss air, either.

"I could certainly try."

Willie shakes his head fondly, and then hears the studio door open. Alex lunges forward and grabs the pen out of the air, but it's pointless because when Willie turns around, it's Julie standing there. Her eyes are wide and her jaw is dropped.

"Hey, Julie," Alex greets. "What're you doing?"

"I left a song out here that I wanted to show Flynn," she says. "What are you doing?" She aims her voice like she's talking to Alex, but she's staring at Willie.

"Homework," Alex answers.

"Really?" she quirks an eyebrow.

"What else would I be doing?"

"I don't know, care to tell me?" This time, it's one hundred percent directed at Willie, and he flinches.

Alex frowns, still playing the part. "I don't—"

"Not you," Julie cuts Alex off.

"Julie…" Alex sighs. "Just leave him be."

"Can I talk to you outside?" There's no question who she's talking to.

Willie gets to his feet and walks out the door. Alex glares at her from where he's sitting on the couch, and flops back on to the cushions, crossing his arms in a pout.

Julie turns around and marches out to the driveway and whirls on Willie when he gets out there. "This isn't fair to him."

"None of this is fair, Julie," Willie says. "We're dealing the only way we know how."

"He—he said he was moving on. He said he was doing better!"

"He… technically is doing better," Willie says. "Maybe not moving on, but—"

"Willie, you need to let him go," Julie frowns.

"That's not your choice to make," Alex's voice comes from the studio doors. He pushes the door open and steps out. "I get you want to help, but leaving me and Willie be would be the best thing you could do to help."

"Alex…" Julie whispers. "It's not fair to you."

"You think I don't know that? You think the fact that Willie is dead and I'm alive has escaped my notice? Because it hasn't. I have to talk to a sheet of notebook paper to have a conversation with him. I have to guess when he'll appear, and hope each day that he will. I don't get to see him smile, or look at me, and I can't hold his hand, and I can't feel him against me. But despite that, I'm happy with him. Isn't that what you should be focusing on?"

Julie sucks in a breath. "Alex—"

"Julie," Alex cuts her off. "I understand where you're coming from. The amount of times I told Luke falling for you was a horrible decision, but he reminded me it wasn't a decision. You can't pick and choose who you love, and… I'm willing to go through this for Willie, okay? You can't protect me from everything, and I'd never ask you to. I am asking you to leave this be."

She looks away from Alex, and turns to Willie. "Are you really okay with how this is going?"

"I… For now," Willie answers. "I've been trying to figure out my unfinished business to see if I'll come back to life, too. It's all I've been doing when I'm not with Alex for the last nine months. If I can't figure it out within the year since Alex came back to life I am going to stop this, okay Julie? I don't want him to hurt. I'll tell him to move on, I'll tell him that I can't do it anymore, but until then, I want to be there for him. These may be our last months together," Willie whispers. "Please don't take that from us."

Julie sighs, long and loud, but her shoulders drop. "Fine," she says, throwing her hands up. "Whatever. I—I just don't want you guys hurting."

"If you think Willie being here hurts me, clearly you don't remember you and Luke in the early days."

"I do, though. I remember how much it sucked when I reached out and my hand went right through him. I remember thinking that we could never be together—even once I could touch you guys, it still… sucked. Alex, I do remember the early days, and that's why I just… I just don't want you hurting. And… falling in love with a ghost when you're human… it hurts."

"But it's also worth it," Alex reminds her. "You turned down Nick, even when you couldn't touch Luke. Because you knew it was worth it. Even thinking you were going to lose Luke, you still chose him. And I'm choosing Willie, even though I know I could lose him. Even though it sucks that he's a ghost. Willie is worth it."

Julie looks at Willie. "Is this worth it?"

Willie nods. "I might have to say goodbye soon, but it's not like we're making bad memories. Alex and I won't live to regret the time we had together if this doesn't work out. And it might take us time to move on, but this will never not be worth it."

Julie narrows her eyes. "Does he know?"

"Know? About the unfinished business?" Willie asks. "No. I don't want to get his hopes up."

"Good. Keep it that way."

"Keep what, what way?" Alex demands, looking between Julie and the space of air she's looking at.

"Something I can't tell you," Julie says, still looking at Willie. "Willie wants to keep it quiet, too. Hopefully I can tell you one day, but until that day comes, it's mine and Willie's secret. It's for the better."

"Didn't we just decide you don't know what's best for me?" Alex huffs.

"Not in this case," Willie says.

"Willie says 'not in this case,'" Julie translates. "Just… be careful both of you, alright? You know I love you both, right?"

Alex leans back against the studio door and crosses his arms, frowning. "I know, Jules. I love you, too. And I appreciate your thoughts and wanting me to be okay, but, really. We're fine."

"Yeah," Willie says. "If I can't figure out my unfinished business I'll stop by and say goodbye to you, too."

"Alright," Julie nods. "Let me just grab that song and then you two can get back to your… date."

Willie smiles at her. He can feel on his face that it's not a full smile, that it's sad, and that it's not reaching his eyes, but… he is sad. Vocalizing his plan, to Julie no less, has made it permanent. He really only has three months to figure out his unfinished business.

It doesn't feel like enough time. Looking back to Alex, he knows it's not.

He'll never be ready to say goodbye.

(*)

His time is up.

It's been an entire year, almost to the day (he gave himself one extra week) since Alex came back to life, and Willie is here to leave Alex. He's kneeling next to where Alex is sleeping on the studio's couch, looking so relaxed and content, and Willie… he's glad he prepared beforehand. He pulls the piece of notebook paper out of his pocked and places it on the table, Alex's name in bold pen on the top.

He wrote his note before he came to see Alex, knowing that he won't have the courage to write it down when he's looking at the other boy. Especially not if Alex is watching him. No, that's… he could never do that, not when he could see the look on Alex's face. So, the idea is, in and out, leave the note somewhere for Alex to find, and never look back.

The last part is going to be the hardest.

However, he's promised himself that he won't go looking for Alex or the others anymore. Not after tonight. He's letting Alex move on, but he needs to let himself move on, too. Alex will find someone else to love, and Willie… if nothing else, he should give himself the chance to find someone else to love. Not that he'll ever really feel confident again, knowing that one of them could cross over at any minute, leaving him just as heartbroken as he is now. But… it was worth it with Alex. He can't imagine how it ever wouldn't be worth it, even as he has to say goodbye now. Alex will always be worth it, and he can't be sorry for holding on as long as he did. The time he got to spend with him has given him enough courage to say goodbye… just… there's one more thing he wants to say, that he couldn't say in his note.

"I love you," Willie whispers, reaching down to stroke Alex's hair, but freezing before he could. He's not in the right mindset to have his hand pass through Alex, not again, not right now, when he feels the cramping in his chest from the pain of this moment. Not when it's been over a year and he still hasn't figured out his unfinished business. Not when he doesn't think he ever will. There's so much he's tried, so much he's done, and he's not sure what more there is to do. He's held on to this for far too long, and he thinks it's time to let go. He doesn't want his last memory of Alex to be his hand disappearing through the boy's body. "I'm so sorry I couldn't do better for you."

There's a clench in his stomach as he thinks about all he's gone through this past year. Practicing all the moves he wanted to perfect before he died. Returning to his childhood home and making connections with his family, apologizing for leaving them, apologizing for not being a better son. Visiting his older sister who ran away when he was younger. Tracking down the person who killed him from all of the newspaper articles and forgiving them. Going to his college and sitting in on all of the classes that he skipped out on when he was a student. Going back to Caleb's club and apologizing to all those he led there. Visiting the graves of all of his family members that he never got to say goodbye to. Visiting his grave and forgiving himself for his mistake.

Yet here he stands, still a ghost.

Truthfully, he didn't care if he crossed over to the living or crossed over to heaven. He just… didn't want to be here anymore. In this limbo between the living and the dead. Skating the streets of Hollywood was fun, but with Caleb gone, with the Ghost Club in his past, with Alex living… skating was all he had, and it wasn't enough to hold him to this… "life" that he was living. He just wanted it to be over—he just wanted to move on. He doesn't care what that means anymore. Just… not like this. Not this. He can't be stuck like this for eternity. He can't.

He shoves himself to his feet in a rush and walks to the door, forcing himself to not look back. It's time to move on—time to let Alex move on. Like Alex says, it's not fair, and Willie's just making it harder on both of them. If he hasn't figured out his unfinished business by now, he's not going to. Maybe he already missed his opportunity, maybe it's something that's waiting for him in the future, maybe it's—

Ow.

Willie looks up from where he landed on the floor, and sends a glare at the door. There's a noise from up in the loft and Reggie's laugh sounds through the studio. "Dude, did you just walk into the door? I know you can do dumb things when you just wake up, but come on."

Willie looks up at the loft and blinks.

Wait.

He walked into the door.

"Reggie?" he calls tentatively.

The boy pops his head out of the fence in the loft, jaw dropped. "Willie?"

"You can—you can see me?" Willie breathes, turning around on the floor and looking between Alex and Reggie. Thing one: he couldn't walk through the door. Thing two: Reggie could hear him walk into the door. Thing three: Reggie could see him.

"Alex!" Reggie screeches, throwing a box of picks down from the loft and at the couch. "Alex!"

Alex flinches when the box of picks lands right next to his head and groans. "Dude, what the fuck?" he asks, picking up the box and looking at it. "Why the fuck?"

"I'm sorry, but you're going to love me in a second because sit your butt up and look at the door."

"What are you talking about?" Alex demands as he sits up and rubs at his eyes. He looks up at the loft first, but Reggie's head peaking down at the door must interest him, because Willie looks away from Reggie at the same time Alex does, and their eyes meet. "Willie?" he whispers.

"Alex," he breathes out with a laugh. Alex is up and off the couch and striding towards him in one motion, dropping next to him with a loud thud of his knees hitting the concrete. Willie reaches towards him cautiously. He curls a hand around Alex's face, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb and laughs. "Oh my god."

Alex lunges forward and tackles Willie into a hug, holding him tight as they both start to cry.

"Hold on, hold on!" Reggie wails, footsteps thundering as he rushes down the loft stairs. "Remember, I can't poof out anymore, and I don't want to see what's going to happen next, just give me a minute to—okay, carry on," he finishes, and then the studio door clicks shut and Alex crashes his mouth to Willie's with no hesitance.

Willie gasps, and takes a moment to adjust to the feeling of Alex's mouth on his again, but after a moment, he pushes back into Alex and gives back as good as he's getting. It's easy to fall back into this, really. It's not like Willie forgot how Alex kisses, and he highly doubts Alex has forgotten how Willie kisses, so it's easy for the two of them to give and take, to push and pull. There's no learning involved, just coming home.

Alex's breath hitches and he pulls away quickly, shoving his face into Willie's neck. "Oh my god," Willie hears him whisper. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Please tell me I'm not dreaming?" he begs.

"You're not dreaming," Willie grins, holding Alex tighter.

"Yeah, but that's something dream you would say," Alex says, pulling away from Willie's neck and looking into his eyes. Alex's eyes are red and the area around them is swelling, and Willie swears he's never looked more beautiful. He lifts a hand and cups Alex's face. "Punch me."

"Wh—babe, no," he laughs, wiping the tears from Alex's face. "Punch yourself."

He's not expecting Alex to pull back and smash his fist into his forearm. "That wasn't hard enough, you've gotta—wait. My knees. The concrete hurt them. Can you dream pain? Is that a thing? Oh my god, I don't know enough about dreams, I—"

"Alex," Willie murmurs, leaning forward. "You're not dreaming. You've always trusted me, yeah? Trust me now." He presses his lips gently to Alex's, and feels Alex's lips quirk up in a smile.

He pulls back. "If I wake up from this you're so dead."

"Well, technically, if this was a dream, you'd be completely right. But right now I'm so alive." Willie pauses. "I think? I couldn't walk through the door and now you guys can see me and touch me and—"

Alex cuts him off with a kiss. After a few seconds he releases Willie's lips and sits back and closes a hand around Willie's wrist, pressing two fingers to where Willie's pulse point would be. Alex stares at his hand in amazement, and another smile spreads on his face. "You're alive."

"I am?" he asks, breathless.

"Yes, dude. What was? What was your unfinished business?"

"I don't—I don't know. The last thing I did was visit you. I've been trying to figure it out for the last year but nothing worked. Then… Wait."

"What?"

Willie feels blood rush to his face and wow isn't that a feeling. But, no. Not the point right now. He twists his wrist in Alex's hold and slips his hand down to hold Alex's. "The last thing I did was, um, tell you I love you."

"Falling in love was your unfinished business?"

"No," Willie shakes his head. "Otherwise I would have come back like, two years ago. Unless—did I really have to say it?"

"Unfinished business is weird, we were technically signed with Destiny Management for two months before we actually signed the papers, but I didn't actually come back until I signed the legit contract," Alex explains. He smiles at Willie, and then his expression drops. "Wait. You're in love with me?"

Willie feels his face soften. "I've been in love with you."

"Was it—was it you at my grave? A few months ago I—I know I could have asked you when you started writing to me but I was so scared—"

"It was me," Willie nods. "I can't believe you tried to suggest I didn't care—"

"I didn't—I couldn't—I just—everything sucked, I was doubting everything and the further I got away from you the more I was convinced that you didn't feel the same. I mean, you hadn't come to visit once—"

"I saw you at the skate park before that." He squeezes Alex hand. He lifts up their entwined fingers and presses a kiss to the back of Alex's hand. "You looked… you were so sad, and it hurt so much to talk to you. At first I thought it was better for both of us if I didn't… encourage it. I lost that plan, though. I was trying to figure out my unfinished business but I just wanted you to be happy."

"You make me happy."

Willie grins. "You make me happy too, hot dog."

Alex blushes and goes back to hiding his face in Willie's shoulder.

"Hey, have you tried hot dogs since you came back to life?"

"No," Alex laughs, then moves his head up to press a kiss to Willie's collarbone. He leans back, away from Willie's body so he can look him in the eyes. "I don't think I ever will."

"Yeah, well I'm stopping at every cross walk, even if the walk sign is on," Willie says. "What kills you makes you reevaluate your life choices."

"What kills you makes you smarter," Alex grins.

"Then why did you need me to help you pass calculus?" Willie teases.

Alex rolls his eyes and shoves at Willie, who reaches forward to grab Alex's bicep to stabilize him. "What are you doing here, man? You haven't been here in almost a month. I've been waiting for you."

Willie bites his lip and looks at the ground. "I was here to say goodbye. I gave myself one year to figure out my unfinished business and then I'd let us both move on. That—that's what I told Julie that night. That's what you couldn't know."

Alex breathes out, staring at Willie without blinking. His eyes start filling with tears and he lets out a mirthless laugh. "Well thank fuck you decided to tell me you loved me."

"Yeah," Willie nods. "Thank fuck."

(*)

They walk into the Molina household hand in hand, Alex murmuring things along the way, and Willie just listening, but mostly reveling in the feel of Alex's hand in his again.

"Ah, mijo!" Julie's dad exclaims happily. "Just in time, I was about to send Reggie out—who's this?"

Alex shifts, squeezes Willie's hand, and draws in a breath. "Ray, this is Willie. He's—do you remember how we told you I was dating a ghost before I came back to life?"

Ray (apparently) nods. "I do."

"This is him."

Ray's eyes narrow. "He came back to life, too?"

"He did. And he doesn't have anywhere to go right now, could he stay, at least in the studio? We'll find his family soon, but—"

"Alex," Ray cuts the boy off. "Of course." He looks to Willie. "Do you like tacos?"

Willie nods slowly. "Yes, sir."

Ray shakes his head. "None of that 'sir' stuff, Willie. Just Ray works. Let me go find another chair, and you can join us for dinner, bueno?"

"I—thank you," Willie says, genuinely taken aback by Ray's openness.

"Alright, the rest of the family is in the dining room, why don't you two go join them, I'm just going to grab a chair out of my office," he tells them, and then disappears around the corner.

Alex squeezes Willie's hand and smiles down at him. "Ready?"

Willie laughs. "For what?"

Alex grins and walks forward, tugging Willie along behind him. They walk through the kitchen and Willie can see the entire group as they make their way to the table—Julie's little brother (Carlos, he thinks) is sitting at the head of the table, talking rapidly with Reggie, who is sitting with his back to Willie and Alex. Julie's friend (Flynn, he's sure of that one) is sitting next to Reggie and he can tell from her posture that she's bent over her phone. Beside her, there's an open chair squeezed into the small space which Willie assumes is meant for Alex. Across the table, with their heads ducked together and talking in quiet tones are Julie and Luke, completely unaware to their presence. At least until Alex clears his throat.

Everyone looks at them, then. Reggie and Flynn turn in their seats, and Julie and Luke look up, confused. Carlos stares at Willie with a calculating look, and—

"Oh my god!" Julie screeches, shoving out of her chair so fast that she knocks it back into the window. She runs around the table and into the kitchen before launching herself at Willie. "You did it!"

Willie laughs but once Alex drops his hand, he holds on to her tightly. Despite being able to interact with her face to face for the last two and a half years, he's never got to touch her. She became one of his closest friends, but he'd never been able to give her a hug, and they're both tactile people. The entire group is, really. So he squeezes her tighter and breathes in her scent and savors in the feeling of being hugged by her. "I did," he says into her hair. "Thank you for giving me the chance."

"Of course," she says as she pulls away, but her hands don't leave him, just slide down to hold on to his forearms. "What was it?"

Alex grins from next to Willie and leans in to Julie's view. "He had to tell me he loved me."

"It took you guys two years to say I love you?" Luke says, and Willie notices him standing a few feet behind Julie. "Dude—"

"Not all of us say 'I love you' after the first date, Luke," Alex shoots back.

"But two years?"

"We were separated for one of those."

"But two years?"

"Leave them be," Julie tells him, finally dropping Willie's arms and spinning around to face her boyfriend. "It still took you months to work up the courage to ask me out. Willie asked Alex out as soon as he was free from Caleb." Willie wants to tell her that Alex had actually kissed him and ran away before Willie asked the boy out, but with a glance at Alex, who was glaring at him knowingly, he decides to save the story for another time. "At least they've got that sorted out."

Luke rolls his eyes and steps around Julie to clap a hand into Willie's. He bumps their shoulders together and grins, a trademark lopsided Luke grin. "I'm glad to see you, man."

"Me too!" Reggie cries from in back of the group. "Sorry I ran out of the studio on you guys, but I didn't—"

"You knew?" Julie gasps.

"Well, yeah? Why'd you think I ran in from the studio?"

"Considering you grabbed food, we thought you wanted a snack," Flynn says, and Reggie looks like he's considering her words before he shrugs. She turns to Willie. "I'm Flynn. Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Same," Willie says, leaning forward to shake her hand. "We've technically met, but you never got to see me."

"So you were a ghost, too?" Carlos calls from where he's still sitting at the dining room table. Ray is sitting at the other end now, too, having squeezed in another chair on the side where Julie and Luke had been sitting. It was a wheelie computer chair and as soon as Flynn saw it she dove for it with a cry of 'dibs,' sending her and the chair flying back into the wall.

"I was," Willie confirms, following the rest of the group as they make their way back to the dining room.

"Cool," Carlos breathes.

"Yeah, super cool," Julie rolls her eyes, ruffling her brother's hair. "Dying is so cool."

"Hey, he's alive again," Carlos shoots back. "So I can say it's cool."

"Can't argue that logic," Reggie grins.

"I also agree it's cool," Alex says, and sends Willie a soft smile.

"Yeah, yeah, we know, you're happy to have your boyfriend back," Flynn waves her hand through the air as she scooches back to the table. "But can we get to the tacos now?"

"I hope you like tacos," Luke says, reaching for a hard shell with one hand and the taco meat with the other. "Because they're gonna be your first taste of food in—wait, when did you die?"

"Seven, eight years ago. 2015."

"How old are you?" Julie asks.

"With or without the ghost years?"

"Without. That's what's going on your birth certificate."

"I was a month shy of turning twenty. I was born a month before you three," he says, nodding at each of the boys individually, "died in '95."

"It's a good thing we died, then," Alex says, waiting patiently for the rest of the table to make their tacos before he makes his own. "Never would have met you, otherwise. Or if I did…"

"We don't think about that," Luke says. "Otherwise we have to talk about how much older I am that Julie and that—that doesn't work."

"How much older than Julie are you?" Carlos asks.

Luke turns a mock glare on the kid. "Did you not hear what I just said? We don't think about that."

Reggie leans towards Carlos and stage whispers, "twenty six years."

Carlos looks absolutely gleeful. "Ha! Dad, did you know that?"

Ray sighs. "I did, Carlos. Eat your food."

"You're old," Carlos hisses at Luke.

"You're a child," Luke taunts back. Even through their tones, Willie can tell this group is a family. Luke is Carlos' older sister's boyfriend, yes, but his role as a pseudo brother to Carlos is just as important as his role as Julie's boyfriend. Reggie clearly adores the kid and Willie's sure their relationship is even closer than that of Carlos and Luke's. He looks at Alex, who is looking down the table at Carlos with fond eyes, and realizes that even Alex is this kid's brother. Alex is Julie's brother. He's Ray's son. He's not just living here, he's a piece of this family, and Willie is at a meet the family dinner, even if he already knew more than half of them. His eyes flick to Ray and suddenly he wants to make a good impression.

Alex must be able to feel him tense up, so he reaches over and lays a hand on Willie's thigh. He leans in. "What's wrong?"

Willie looks at him, looks around the table again, and settles on Ray again, who is giving him a look that's nearly as concerned as the one on Alex's face.

It's been ten minutes and he thinks he's a part of this family, too.

He smiles at Ray, who returns it, and then Willie turns to Alex. "Nothing. I'm good. But hey, I love you."

Alex smiles. He presses a kiss to Willie's cheek. "I love you, too."

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 1: Wolf Moon (Part One)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

Notes: Welcome to Episode One! Buckle in, this series really takes on a mind of it’s own...

I enjoy writing it so I hope you have just as much fun reading it! Let me know what you think! I love hearing from you lovely people. 

I rested my head against the cool glass to my right and let out a tired sigh. We’d been in the car for what felt like days. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to get comfortable against the door. It was a couple hours past sunset by the time the first sign of our new home came into view. It was made of wood and looked no less than a hundred years old. Four words were sprawled across it in big, white letters.

                     WELCOME TO BEACON HILLS

As soon as we passed it, moms fingers tightened against the steering wheel.

“Hey, no more incidents, okay honey? This town is our last option.”

I closed my eyes tightly and tried to ignore her condescending tone. I was well aware of my mistakes and the fact that this was our fourth move in the last year. I knew it was my fault. I didn’t need her to remind me.

The rest of the drive was silent. It wasn’t exactly tense, but it wasn’t pleasant either. This unspoken rift had formed between us not long ago, and it grew with each of my slip ups. With every new move. She was trying her best, that much was obvious, but there are only so many new places to go. I guess that’s why she said this is our last chance.

My last chance.

It was nearly midnight now, and I was no closer to sleep than I had been when I plopped myself down onto my new bed. Mom bought everything and had it delivered before we got here, like she always does. It was kind of our routine at this point.

Just then, I heard screaming from outside my bedroom window. It was like two people were taking turns scaring each other. One yelled out, then the other, until they eventually fell into silence. I sat up in bed and wandered over to my window. I peered toward my neighbors house, where the noise had come from, and saw two boys out on the porch.

One had a baseball bat that he was waving around animatedly, while the other was somehow hanging upside down from the roof. I opened my window as quietly as I could and let my elbows rest on the edge. A shiver ran down the back of my neck as the chilly night air brushed against it. I stuck my head outside to listen in on their conversation.

“Look, I know it’s late, but you gotta hear this.” The upside boy said excitedly. “I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called, they’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even state police.”

The other boy lowered his bat. “For what?”

Despite being outside in the middle of the night, the two weren’t talking quietly. I could hear everything they were saying clearly as their voices echoed my way.

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.” Upside down boy gracefully fell into the bushes below.

My breath caught and my stomach tightened uncomfortably at his words. A body was found nearby? I thought Beacon Hills was a secluded, safe town. 

“A dead body?” As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I noticed that one of the boys had slightly shaggy hair and was wearing a red zip-up hoodie. He leaned over the wooden railing to look at his friend.

Upside down boy popped back up and slammed his hands on the railing. “No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass! A dead body.”

I couldn’t help but snicker at that. The guy was funny, although this didn’t seem like a joking matter. 

“You mean like...a murder?”

Upside down boy, who for some reason was wearing way too many layers to count, swung himself over the porch railing. Seriously, he had on a t-shirt, a flannel, and a thick jacket. It wasn’t that cold. “No one knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.”

“Hold on. If they found a body, then what are they looking for?” They were facing each other now, the bat forgotten on the floor.

“That’s the best part! They only found half!” My brows pinched at the guy’s excitement. Why would either of them care about a dead body? Especially if it were as gruesome as that? 

I stepped back into my room and shut the window tightly, my stomach churning. I chewed on my bottom lip anxiously. That was weird. They were weird, and I wanted no part of it. I padded back toward my bed and crawled under the covers. I sighed as warmth enveloped me and tried to forget everything I’d overheard. I needed to get some sleep. The first day of school was tomorrow and I had to make a good first impression. It was only my first night in this town. I couldn’t be tangled up in anything weird.

I couldn’t make the same mistakes already.

                                                     ————————

I woke with a harsh gasp, my throat constricting in pain. I blinked rapidly, trying to force my eyes to adjust to the darkness around me. My palms were damp, and the tips of my fingers numb, as I pushed myself up into a sitting position. I stilled at the squishy feeling under my ass and brought my hand up toward my eyes slowly.

My breath caught again at the sight of dirt on my skin. My head whipped both left and right as I realized I was outside. Not only was I outside, but I was nowhere near my house. I was in the middle of a forest.

“No, no, no...” I muttered, staggering to my feet.

This cannot be happening again. Not already. I haven’t even been here for one freaking night. My teeth started chattering as the freezing air brushed against my bare skin. I was only wearing a pair of leggings and a short sleeved shirt. It was enough to keep me warm inside my bed, but not here. 

I took a few steps forward, but stopped as the sound of crunching earth echoed my way. Lights flashed, and a dog barked aggressively. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden noise and moved to hide behind a tree. I peered around and saw one of the boys from before—the one with buzzed hair and too many layers—fall to the ground with a shriek. His friend ran off somewhere to hide.

“Hang on! Hang on!” An angry voice shouted. “This little delinquent belongs to me.” 

A man who I quickly registered, due to his uniform, as the Sheriff stepped between the boy and a still barking dog. The few officers around him backed off at the wave of his hand. He turned on a flashlight and shined it in the boys face, who bounced back to his feet and wiped his hands on his loose-fitting jeans.

“Hey dad, how ya doin?”

So the Sheriff is his dad. Makes sense given the two boys earlier conversation. Maybe that will prevent all of us from getting into serious trouble if we’re caught. I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. How the hell would I explain why I was here?

“Oh hi, I’m the new girl by the way, and I just sleep-walked myself deep into this unfamiliar forest. No big deal though. It’s not like this has happened before.”

Yeah. I don’t think so.

“So...you, uh, listening to all of my phone calls?”

“No! Well, not the boring ones.”

“Where’s your usual partner in crime?”

“Who, Scott?” The boy tried to catch his breath while he thought of a believable lie. “Scott’s at home. Said he wanted to get a good nights sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow. It’s just me. In the woods. Alone.”

Not bad, actually. Except for that last part. I got the sense that he talked a lot when nervous, but figured he had more than enough practice lying to his father.

“Scott, you out there?” The Sheriff’s voice echoed through the dense trees. He moved his flashlight in my direction and I quickly pressed my back against the other side of the scratchy bark. I winced as it bit into my skin through my thin shirt. “Scott!”

My heart was threatening to burst out of my chest, it was beating so hard. I sealed my eyes shut as a moment of quiet passed.

“Well, young man, I’m going to walk you back to your car, and we’re going to have a discussion about something called invasion of privacy...”

Their voices slowly faded away. I stood painfully still for several seconds afterward to make sure they were gone. Just as I was about to move, I heard a twig snap to my left. My gaze fell on the other boy—Scott, apparently—who’s back was to me. He took off running before I could even fully register that he was there.

I blinked once, twice, three times. My body sagged against the tree in exhaustion. Whatever I had just witnessed was not good and I needed to get home before mom noticed I was gone. Or now, preferably. I groaned in pain as my head suddenly began to throb harshly.

“No, no. Not right now...”

My knees hit the wet ground and I clamped both hands over my temples. Images flashed behind my eyes as I squeezed them shut tightly. 

Scott running, glowing red eyes, a guttural scream of agony.

I let my eyes pop open with a gasp. Before I knew what was happening, I was sprinting in the direction he’d gone. I could hardly control my body as it took me to where my vision was about to happen. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Scott rolling down a hill. I grimaced as his body practically bounced with each hit to the ground and ran to the top so I could see better.

Once he stopped moving, I took a step to check on him, but stopped almost instantly. A pair of glowing red eyes illuminated in the depths of the forest, just a few feet away. My jaw went slack in shock and fear. Whatever the hell it was, it wasn’t good. It was almost like the air had shifted into something darker with its presence. I watched in stunned horror as a huge black mass ran by Scott. It was only visible long enough for me to see the thing dig it’s teeth into his side. He screamed in pain, just like I’d heard before, and I covered my ears.

It was all too real.

The monster ran off and Scott looked around, startled. He groaned and clutched his side tightly as he slowly managed to get to his feet. A moment later, he was gone. I wasted no time in following him, hoping he’d lead me to the edge of the forest. I stayed far back, not wanting him to know I was there. 

Within minutes I was standing in the middle of an empty road, Scott nowhere to be found. I was surprised I hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest already with how fast my heart was racing. I was exhausted and on edge after what I’d just seen. Whatever it was. 

I ran a shaky hand through my hair and started what I knew would be a long journey home. 

Episode 1, Part Two

[natusvincere]

Why Can’t We Be Friends || Morgan and Vic

Who: @mor-beck-more-problems and @natusvincere When: Current Timing Where: White Crest National Park Hiking Trail What: Morgan and Vic decide to try a walk in the woods to catch up, but the conversation ventures to topics one of them would rather ignore. Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, emotional abuse, and parent death.

This wasn’t something Vic did.  But Morgan Beck had somehow developed a knack for getting Vic to do all sorts of things she didn’t do- share feelings and admit that she could possibly care for someone else, for one.  Plus, there was still that nagging, gnawing guilt about the way they had ended the last time they met up, and it couldn’t be washed away with just a bit of paint and a pretty picture.  So, even though it wasn’t something she did, Vic supposed it was Morgan’s compelling pull on her that was to blame, and definitely not that she was growing weak or vulnerable.  She sat on a rock where they’d agreed to meet, a healthy mix of excited and nervous energy buzzing within her.  As a familiar car pulled up beside her and she whistled loudly. The clumsy, frantic gait of Winnie could be heard within a moment, only seconds before Vic saw her barreling back toward her, carrying a rather large branch.  Winnie jumped up on the rock with her, proud and content, and dropped the branch to give her face a quick lick.  “Stupid”, she whispered with a smile, giving her a kiss on the forehead.   

She stood up, wringing her hands together as Morgan left her car, but Winnie clearly didn’t share her nerves.   As soon as she noticed there was another being present, the dog dashed toward the car, barking a greeting that, to anyone else, probably sounded vicious and intimidating.  Vic rolled her eyes.  “Winnifred!”, she shouted, whistling sternly shortly after. Winnie, for her part, didn’t seem to care, and she continued to barrel toward the car, barking happily.  

 Morgan was happy to see Vic again. With everything she had going on, her visits to the gallery were becoming more seldom, and she didn’t get the same connection from Vic when their paths crossed there as she did when they spoke online. And lately, Morgan felt like Vic had something she wanted to tell her. She couldn’t settle on what, the woman had so many secrets and repressed feelings, it could be anything. From the way she spoke, Vic seemed like a woman who had suffered a great deal, and was buckling under the weight of it. As she drove up to the park, Morgan wondered if maybe she was going to try and explain some of her pain, so it wouldn’t be so hard to carry.

As soon as she opened the door, she was pounced by a large, slobbering dog. Morgan tried to pet her, but the creature jumped and barked too excitedly for her to get much in the way of ear scritches. “Hi, Winnie,” she laughed. Reaching into her purse, Morgan took out a little strip of dog jerky, which made Winnie bark even louder, jump high enough to paw at Morgan’s chest. With a big smile, Morgan threw it toward Vic and beamed as the dog ran after it.

“I hope that’s okay,” Morgan called, coming up to the woman. “I know you’ve said how friendly she is, but I smell like three different cats and I figured it doesn’t hurt to make a nice impression. Are we friends enough yet for me to hug you?”

                                                                                                                            Vic watched Winnie practically trample Morgan, feeling equal parts embarrassed and amused as she watched their interaction. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t convince Winnie to be a calm, intelligent dog.  She insisted on being hyper and simple.  It was amazing, in a way, to watch the pure joy that radiated from such a silly creature.  Morgan didn’t seem to mind, anway.

She attached Winnie to her leash as the dog ran toward her, too focused on her prize to realize what was going on.  She brushed Morgan off, scratching Winnie behind her ears as she spoke.  “It’s better to fill her up now than for her to find a rogue squirrel on the way that she’s dying to eat, I suppose.  You saved us both a lot of distraction by bringing her that.”  It struck her, briefly, that she might have reamed anyone else out for bringing her dog a treat without her permission, but it seemed Morgan had already managed to gain special treatment from Vic in more ways than one.

She bit her lip, but then shrugged and let herself fall into Morgan’s hug, awkwardly but fully embraced in it.  “I’m not a hug person”, she admitted, eyeing Morgan carefully as they walked.  Nothing seemed to surprise the other woman, and no matter the vitriol she sent her, nothing pushed her away, either.  She cleared her throat awkwardly.  “Have you… been doing okay?”

 Morgan laughed her way into a smile as Vic relented and let them embrace. “In that case, I’m even more honored for the privilege. I won’t ask it of you too much, but I really do appreciate it.” She gave her another squeeze for good measure and then let go, settling back onto her feet and putting a little more distance between them as they began their walk.  “I gotta say, I appreciate having someone who appreciates the little old school things like just going on a walk. I don’t know too many people like that.” She elbowed Vic, and hoped for the best that it wasn’t too hard.

At the question of how she was doing, Morgan went quiet, unsure of what to say. How was she doing? There was a lot going on, and it felt like she was having to re-evaluate her ethics every week, if not every day. How did any of the so-called principled people she knew handle it? It was no wonder Remmy had left to make things easier for them. “It’s...uh, been sort of a time. But that’s just White Crest for ya. I could really use one of those quiet breaks right now, where the worst thing we have to worry about is fish falling from the sky, honestly.” She shrugged. “But I still have...my art, my job, and...well, I sort of have this literacy side project but that’s a mixed bag at best.” She looked sidelong at Vic. “But how are you? Have you considered, you know, getting out more?”

 Vic eyed Morgan as she elbowed her, only able to maintain a serious expression for a moment before she elbowed her back.  She quickly shoved her hands into her pockets after the gesture.  “Well, most people are assh-”, she stopped, eyeing Morgan again.  The other woman kept telling her to open herself up to people, to stop seeing the worst in them.  It was such a natural reaction to shove them aside, as so many had done to her.  She supposed at some point, it was easier than opening herself up to rejection.  She cleared her throat before continuing.  “...Most people don’t have time to stop and appreciate the beauty in nature, I guess.  Too busy.”

She glanced at her friend, surprised to hear that she hadn’t been having an easy time lately.  “Is it… something you’d like to discuss?”, she tried cautiously.  “I know you mentioned this is a hard time of year for you.”  For whatever reason- Vic didn’t really want to think about why.  It caused too many questions about the secrets that Morgan held deep inside.  Winnie yanked on the leash, pulling her forward quicker than she expected. She licked her lips before she answered, not too sure on what she’d say before she started. If you consider getting trapped in a nightmare dreamscape with Marley- “I went to the bend last week, if that’s what you mean”, she said sheepishly.

 Morgan caught Vic’s thoughtful amendment and smiled, touched and grateful. “Well, in their defense, so much of life these days pulls them away from it. And with everything that hides in the shadows, maybe it’s better for them that they know their limits.” She shook herself out of the middle distance and smiled at Vic again. “But I’m glad we have this in common. It’s nice.”

She thought awhile about how she might go discussing this with Vic. If there were any words that approximated being hunted, or fearing her immortality, the way she ached when she saw aging families and the neighborhood kids graduating kindergarten and pre-k. What human words could she possibly use to explain being pulled away from the very human pieces of the world?

“I’m not sure I know how,” she said at last. “Not because I don’t want to, it’s just...hard to explain and hard to understand. I don’t even understand all of it myself. Why don’t you tell me about The Bend? I see you grinning over there. Did something interesting happen? Or maybe someone?”

 “I think they’d be happier if they stopped worrying about what people thought.  I wonder if that’s the problem these days”, Vic mused as they walked, shoving her hands into her pockets.  “Social media has people so wrapped up in impressing others that most people are just shells of themselves at this point.”  What she was saying was bullshit.  Even 400 years ago, people were wrapped up in impressing each other.  Some of them cared about it more than they did their own children.  Social media was as much to blame for society as make-up or magazines were.  They were all just extensions of issues that had existed for generations.  Morgan’s remark on their commonality shook her out of her thoughts, and she smiled back at her, agreeing with a light nod.  It was nice- to share something with someone.  Even something as public as nature.

She let her gaze fall forward as they chatted and walked, watching as Winnie made an effort to get a good sniff of every tree they passed, stopping every few moments to look to her for approval.  She nodded at Morgan’s explanation, waiting a beat before responding.  “I.... understand the feeling of struggling to explain or understand certain emotions around certain events.  You’re not alone in that feeling.  Not by a long shot.”  The worst thing in the world, besides the company being ripped out in front of you, was feeling alone.  What was it about being in a room full of people that felt so incredibly isolating?

The corners of her mouth perked up again, despite the situation with Marley having been less than ideal.  But the fact that they had found themselves in that situation made her laugh, when she looked back on it, because the universe has a funny way of making those things happen.  “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you”, she admitted, glancing to her side.  “A friend and I ran into each other, and then had a few experiences I’d venture don’t happen in many places outside of White Crest”, she explained.

 Morgan couldn’t hide the searching wonder in her eyes as Vic suggested that she might understand the understandable. There was a weight to her words that carried more gravity than anything that came from the humans she’d spoken to. Or maybe after losing so much, Morgan was just that desperate for connection.

The rest of Vic’s words forgotten, she asked, “Do you? Understand? I don’t mean that incredulously. I mean, will you tell me about it? Is that okay? I know you’re a really private person. I don’t want to presume or sound entitled to your history--It’s just, how do you get support for something no one talks about? How do you open up to someone if the words don’t exist to most people? Or if trying would make them see you differently, or stop seeing you at all?” She winced at her clumsy openness. But with the house so empty, with the world so violent and quiet at once, she was growing desperate to fill the empty spaces around her. And maybe that wasn’t fair to Vic, but she couldn’t take her words back now.

 Something in the way Morgan’s questions were worded gave Vic pause.  She wasn’t sure if it was the desperation behind them or the meticulous way they were arranged, but there was something subtle and hidden there.  She looked forward and continued walking, but the atmosphere felt like it was closing in- like water was blocking her ears and everything sounded distant and far away.  She cleared her throat; it felt like it echoed through the forest.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re asking”, she said finally.  

For a long time, there was silence between them, Vic trying to ignore the intensity of Morgan’s and have a nice, simple, quiet walk, where they didn’t need to talk about feelings and the past.  But then she started talking, unsure of exactly why.

“I told you my mother passed when I was very young.” Had she passed?  Or was she out there still, running around with the creatures that her father insisted had taken her?  “I think my father resented me for it- or he needed someone to blame.”  Even just thinking of him made her insides flip with shame and self-hate.  She looked down at her hands.  “And at first, it bothered me.  I wanted to make myself better or worth something, or even a little likable.  But nothing… nothing I did was good enough.  Ever.”  What was she doing?  Why was she talking about this?  “And then by the time I was no longer a child, I resented him, maybe I resented myself, too, I don’t know.  But I wasn’t at all interested in marriage… for obvious reasons, and so I was… stuck with him.”  She strategically left out why exactly she was stuck with him.  If only 1500s Sweden was like 21st century USA.  She could have died as a happy old spinster and not have known the difference.  

Why was she sharing this?

“So I guess I mean, I understand having a complicated relationship with a parent.”

 Morgan didn’t know how to hide her disappointment, so she turned her face away to look out at the world instead. This wasn’t Vic’s fault. And really, this was something big she was trusting her with. This was a gift. She should be hopeful about this. But she didn’t. She felt foolish and stupid and selfish and tired--stars above, she was so tired and it wasn’t even that late--and trying to correct and re-write her thoughts wasn’t doing the trick.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. ‘That was cruel, what he did. That was...that just sounds awful.” She sniffled, kept her eyes off in the middle distance as they walked. “That wasn’t what I was referring to, what I was trying to talk to you about but--” She cleared her throat, swallowed thickly. “My mother didn’t want kids. At least that’s what she wrote in her journal a couple of years before she had me. There was this--fuck, I don’t even know how to tell you all about this either--there was a thing. Her mother was very cruel to her. She’d get her things she wanted just to destroy them in front of her, lock her outside the house, and that’s the light stuff. And yeah, the woman had her reasons for being that way. Those were the same reasons my mother didn’t want to even bother with having a baby. But you can’t always get what you want, and I came along anyway. She wasn’t cruel to me in those same ways, though sometimes I wished she would be, so I’d have proof I wasn’t making things up or being too sensitive. And I...I’ve been in and out of therapy for years now, but I still want to get on my knees when something goes wrong or someone leaves and ask what I did wrong, what can I do to make it better, how can I fix it. I want to say I’ll be good. I can be good if you tell me how. I just...become that miserable little girl again. She’s so desperate and she’s never satisfied that she’s done enough, there always has to be something more. It’s exhausting.” She shrugged, letting the subject drop if that’s what Vic wanted. She was too disappointed to follow up with a real question so soon, and maybe she should have thought through this outing more carefully in the first place.

 Vic stared ahead, hard and even, as she processed Morgan’s response.  That wasn’t what I was referring to.  The implication was there without it being said aloud.  Morgan had been talking about the giant elephant in the room, her other past… implying that they shared something.  Did they, then?  Was this the day that she’d find out the thing she’d been fearing most?  That Morgan was another vampire, as she expected, and Vic would be forced to turn her into hunters before morning.

Did doing such a thing make her more of a monster than being a vampire did?

“Well then, ...out with it.  What were you referring to?” I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know.

Vic felt tears rise to her eyes as Morgan talked about her mother and her grandmother, and the scenarios she shared felt so similar to her own, in a way. The cruelty, the disdain, the confusion… what had been the reason they’d all been forced to experience it?  Morgan understood the desperate need to please a parent and the longing to be loved and be good enough.  Maybe she understood better than anyone else.  And again, there was a twinkle of a thought in the back of her mind, one that tried to overtake the one that said Vic would turn her in- maybe this time, it could be different.

“Our stories seem similar”, she commented.  At least when it came to their caregivers.  “But as an adult, my reactions to people seem to manifest opposite to yours.  I don’t care about pleasing the masses, or fixing what they presume I’ve done wrong.  In fact, I’d rather let them know outright that they’ll be disappointed to know me, lest I have to handle their disappointment when they try to delve deeper.” Lyra’s singsong voice rang in her ears, saying-‘You claim you don’t care to please them, then in the same breath worry about disappointing them.  You’re a walking contradiction, Victoria.’ She let out a shaky scoff and looked to Morgan.  “I’m sorry it’s so exhausting.  I’m sorry your mother couldn’t have been better for you.  You didn’t deserve any of it.  And… I think that your kindness still rings through as a testament to the type of person you are, if you don’t mind my saying.”

 Morgan ignored the pointed request to explain herself and focused instead on how Vic internalized her fears. It should have been a relief to have someone understand her on any front right now. She only had so many friends left, and she was so busy trying to make sure the new ones really liked her, she didn’t dare dump her problems on them if she could help it. Emotional spirals were supposed to wait until you were at least two months in, right?

“If you’re so invested in the outcome with people you decide it’s predetermined and you try that hard to get ahead of it--that’s a lot of energy. Kind of sounds like you care a lot,” she spoke simply, with no shortage of understanding. “It might be easier if you accepted you’re not as terrible as your father led you to believe and aren’t actually going to disappoint everyone you meet. Let things happen with people without those memories controlling you. You didn’t deserve that either. And you don’t deserve to be trapped and controlled by that for as long as you have.”

But what had she been referring to? How did she step around that ache without making it seem like she didn’t trust Vic? At least, not in a specific way. “What I was talking about was uh...sort of related to my accident. It’s hard to explain to some people and it’s not something I’m good with handling misunderstandings about. I know I just told you how chronically desperate I am for approval and positive attention, and how you should just wait and see with people instead of assuming the worst, but when it comes to my...it’s just really personal and it’s hard enough talking about it honestly without managing other people not believing me or running away or thinking it’s cool or something else besides what it really was. It destroyed my life and almost everything I wanted to do with it. Whatever self-acceptance spin I put on what came after, that’s always going to be true.” Morgan shook her head ruefully. She was tired of losing people. She was tired of having to outpace her own mistakes. She was tired of feeling alone. “I need to know you’ll believe me no matter how batshit it sounds before I talk to you about it. And if you’re not sure, that’s okay, I get it, we don't have to get into it. And most times I do a good job of not letting it bother me, but lately….” Lately her life was falling apart faster than a TV movie and the thought of forever was looking a lot more terrifying. 

 Vic felt herself roll her eyes at Morgan’s claim, much like a petulant child who was being scolded but didn’t want to admit she was wrong.  “It sounds lovely when you word it that way, but I’m not sure it’s all that simple”, she responded.  There had been times when she’d tried to let her guard down, to be herself without the walls and the anger and the judgement.  But something always happened that snapped her back to it- sometimes she didn’t even realize what triggered the switch at all, just that she couldn’t turn it back off.  It was like the first time she tried gardening with Morgan- she couldn’t even remember what set her off.  “I suppose I’m not sure I know how to not be controlled by it.”  It sounded like an excuse; something she might call someone else weak for.  

She knew Morgan had been having a hard time lately because of the anniversary of some accident.  Her fingers brushed behind her right ear on their own accord, ghosting by the scar from the bite that still kept her pinned to this earth.  Was the accident she kept referring to just a coverup for something much more sinister? Morgan’s neck didn’t hold any scars- she’d looked countless times when she had the chance, but maybe she covered them up the same way Vic did.

The more Morgan spoke, the more panic fluttered around Vic, and both her words and the trees closed in on the two of them at a threatening pace.  Vic felt her breathing pick up, and her chest felt heavier with each step they took.  She couldn’t take it anymore- she had to get out.  Or at least had to know what the fuck this big secret was.  

In one motion, she grabbed her dagger from its hiding place and then used her forearm to push against Morgan’s chest, forcing her back against a tree.  Their faces were mere inches apart, and from this distance, Morgan’s lack of a heartbeat was even more abundantly clear. “Tell me what you are”, she said through gritted teeth, her voice hushed and raspy.  Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and her chest was still heaving with heavy breaths. Why couldn’t Morgan have been a nice, normal human or something non-threatening, like one of those annoying fae? Why did life have to continue to be so cruel and unfair?  “Come on, Morgan. You’ve been dancing around it for weeks.  I’m not an idiot.”  She was meant to sound threatening and cold, but the waver in her voice betrayed her.  “You want to get into it, let’s get into it.  What. Are. You?”  With every word, the dagger danced closer to Morgan’s neck. Still no sign of a scar. Winnie appeared next to them, sitting obediently after taking a moment to lick at Morgan’s fingers. 

She didn’t want to tell the hunters about Morgan, but the thought of letting a vampire roam around made her stomach twist and turn the same way it used to when she disappointed her father. 

The thought of Morgan dying because of her made that feeling even worse. 

 Morgan never saw Vic’s turn coming. But then, when did she ever? Her back hit the tree and before she could beg for her life, there was a blade against her chest and Vic’s eyes were burning into hers, overflowing with fear and hatred. Morgan stared at her, stupidly silent as every hope she’d been collecting between them shattered. Her hands went up to Vic’s arm on instinct but she didn’t go through any of the disarming drills she’d learned between Remmy and Mina. She was so tired, and a little blade like that probably wouldn’t be the end of her, and so what if Vic cut her up into so many pieces? What else would change that hadn’t already?

“Why? Don’t you already know?” She whimpered. She wanted to come back with some harsh reply, but she could only break down into more tears. All she wanted was to rest and be loved, just a little, and she had thought that Vic was safe enough to try. 

“You came prepared, so you must have been thinking about hurting me before,” she sobbed quietly. “Do you want to? Will that make you feel better?” It would be so easy to let her, and crawling to her empty home in pieces would at least be a change of pace. But Mina would worry, and Deirdre was coming home someday, and she would only be hurting them if she gave up. Slowly, her look of devastation hardened. “Come on. You’ve got to be a real piece of shit hunter if you can’t tell what I am from this close.”

 Please don’t cry.  Vic’s eyes flashed to Morgan’s, watching as her tears flowed freely.  It was her fault she was crying.  She looked up to the tree tops above them to stop her own from spilling over.  “Would I be asking if I already knew?”, she asked, momentarily bewildered.  “Just fucking tell me”, she demanded harshly.  “I need to hear you say it”.  

With Morgan’s sobbing accusations, Vic felt her head tilt, and her efforts to hold the tears back became useless.  “We didn’t have to do this.  We didn’t have to talk about it.  We could have left well enough alone.” Her words, like her thoughts, were racing and nonsensical.  The pressure she had on Morgan’s chest relaxed slightly, though her knuckles were still stark white as they held the dagger.  “You’re assuming I want this to happen?”, she asked, eyebrows furrowed as she looked between the dagger and Morgan.  

“I’m not a hunter”, she spat, almost offended at the accusation.  Hunters were useful, but oafish and had one track minds.  “I’m a… I’m not a hunter…. We’re not fucking talking about me.  What the fuck are you?”  There had to be only one reason why she was delaying sharing, right?  Why she was so nervous to share in the first place.  Because she was one of them, vicious and plotting and too awful and dangerous to be trusted.  But she trusted Morgan when she didn’t think about what she might be.  Her stomach felt sick the more her mind fought with itself.

 Morgan’s face melted again, hurt with a new kind of betrayal. If she wasn’t a hunter then why was any of this happening? Why was she hurting her? Why was she leaning on their ‘no choice’ bullshit? She twisted Vic’s hand around with a swift snap and snatched the knife free by the blade as she pushed her away. Morgan ran the sharp side of the blade across her palm, good and deep and squeezed out a line of black blood to show before the skin sewed itself clean. 

“How’s this for undead 101?” She asked, holding out the evidence. “No, I’ll do you one better.” She ripped off the leather cuff over her wrist and showed Vic the scar in the shape of Remmy’s mouth that she always hid. “And for the record, yes, Victoria! You wanted this to happen! You chose to keep talking to me, you got me out here, you brought a fucking knife just to hurt me!” She threw the knife as far away as she could from both of them. “What do any of those choices say? You’re not some pawn, and you’re not some hunter with a fucked up code to lean on so they can sleep at night!” She approached her again, fearless and still crying. “Tell me how I’m not some thing you wanted to play with and decided to break when you were done. Explain it, because I don’t understand this any other way.”

 Vic was taken aback at the sudden shift of power, stumbling back toward the bath that they’d been walking in.  Winnie barked and ran toward her, but Vic was too focused on the display in front of her to notice.  She was confused, at first, by what she was seeing, but the black blood and instant healing were definitely not symptoms of the very thing she was fearing most.  They were symptoms of something else all together.

A new kind of pit danced around in her stomach.

The scar was different than hers… the teeth weren’t right for it to be a vampire bite.  “Zombie”, she whispered, finally letting her eyes find Morgan’s again.  She’d made this mistake more than once before- the lack of heartbeat usually set her on a fast track of destruction.  But it didn’t always mean vampire, and Vic had no interest in ridding the world of anything but the blood suckers.  Victoria.  “Don’t call me that!”, she yelled, and her voice seemed to shriek and echo through the trees, taunting her for the loss of control. A vision of Lyra, ethereal but disappointed, flashed behind Morgan. More tears came with the accusations, and she shook her head in both apology and defiance, her nostrils flaring as she explained. “I bring a knife everywhere!”, she yelled back, gesturing toward where her dagger was thrown for emphasis. “I bring one to the gallery, and to the park, and even the fucking vet.  Do you not know how dangerous this town is?”

She licked her lips, staring Morgan down as she approached her. She felt like she was jumping out of her skin under Morgan’s gaze, and she didn’t know how to answer her questions.  “I told you I’m a shit person”, is all she offered at first.  

But then, after a long beat of silence, she looked down to the ground below them, letting out a shaky breath. “I assumed you were a vampire”, she said suddenly, as if that would explain everything easily.  But when she looked back up, Morgan seemed to be waiting for more.  “I didn’t- I never wanted to… I just thought we were going on a fucking walk, Morgan.  And ever since we’ve met there was that nag in the back of my mind that you were one of them, and your implications only doubled down my suspicions, but I didn’t want you to have to die so I ignored it.  But then you were about to admit something to me, and my mind jumped right to the worst possible thing, and so I panicked.  And because I didn’t want you to die, I had to know then.  Because you’re too good to die.”  There had to be some irony there, clearly, since Morgan was apparently already dead.  “I did not bring you out here to kill you.  I’m not a killer. I’m not like them.”

 Morgan listened to Vic, waiting for the part where all of this made sense. She waited some more. “Why does it matter what I became after I died?” She asked quietly. “I would still be me. I’d be able to feel more, but I wouldn’t be someone different. Why would being a vampire mean I have to die…?” She took a step closer to Vic and looked up into her eyes, pleading for clarity. “You haven’t explained anything, Vic. How is what you’re doing any different from them? And why do you feel like you have to? No one has to kill people for how they were made.”

 Vic stood, stoic and confused, as she tried to process Morgan’s questions. How could she not see the difference here? “B-because they’re…” They.  We. “...vampires are monsters, Morgan.  They destroy lives and families and they need to be stopped.”  The implication that she was the same as them hit her like a ton of bricks, and she physically backed away from Morgan, desperate to run away from any comparison.  “I’m not like them.  I’m not!  Everything I’ve done has been to make sure I don’t end up like them.”  She felt her breathing pick up again, and noticed Winnie pacing back and forth at her side, nervous energy building up between the two of them.  “I tell hunters who they are to get rid of them, and make the world better, because I am not like them!”  A sense of dread washed over her as feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge filled her up inside.  

There was nothing she could do, really, to escape what she was.  She could turn all the vampires on earth into hunters and she’d still be one of them.  She’d still be a monster.

A sob escaped her and she turned away from Morgan, both her hands rising to rest on her forehead. “They took my mother!”  Or she ran off with them intentionally, desperate to get away from her husband and unlovable daughter. “And I was ready to be gone.  I was so close, I was ready, Morgan.” She was saying too much now, sharing privileged information that no one else knew, but it was out before she could stop it.  

 Morgan came up slowly to Vic and brushed her fingers over the woman’s. “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I’m so very sorry. It was monstrous, what they did and how they made you feel. But they were just people being cruel. And you’re just a person too. You’re a person like anyone else and don’t have to be cruel. You can be kind and you can help and give instead of taking.” She tugged on her wrists, asking Vic to let her see her. “It’s okay, Victoria. You’re already a person. You don’t have to prove that to anyone. And you don’t have to hurt other people either.” She looked up at the woman, her wet face all sorrow and compassion. “Will you look at me? Please…?”

 Vic’s fingers twitched when Morgan’s brushed against hers, desperate to reach out and clutch them.  But hand holds and nice words didn’t fix things like they did in books and movies.  They were empty promises, filling voids only temporarily until the person at the other end disappeared.  She swallowed a lump in her throat, turning around to Morgan with a reluctant eye roll.  She didn’t do this.  She didn’t show weakness, but as she locked eyes with Morgan, she observed the same emotions on her face that she felt in her heart, and she realized how much Morgan’s knack for getting the undoable done rang true.  “I help people”, she insisted, an unrecognizable gravel to her voice.  “I’m not trying to prove anything.  I’m trying to do what’s right.” There was a pit, gnawing and growing inside her, that she might have been willing to turn Morgan in if it came down to it.  Would she have? Just left her out to dry, after all the patience and kindness Morgan had offered her?

Would it have mattered if Vic truly believed all vampires were monsters?

It was too much to think about, and it made things way more nuanced than she wanted them to be.  Vampires were bad and she was good for getting rid of them, that should have been that.  And she didn’t know how to feel about it, or even what to say now.  After a while, she said, “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I...I’m sorry if I made you feel shitty, for what you are.  I’ve met plenty of fine zombies.”  And plenty of annoying ones.  

 Morgan lifted a hand to cup Vic’s face when she finally relented. The look of self-loathing didn’t change from species to species, or even age to age, in her experience. And Vic hated herself so very much, it was a wonder she let Morgan in at all. “You send people who are like you to their deaths, Victoria,” she said sorrowfully. “That’s it, right? You were used so cruelly, and the people who were good to you were taken away, and there was no one to give you love or stop you from using your grief to mutilate yourself. And that is so unfair and I am so sorry…” She brushed the corner of the woman’s eye, which seemed ready to overflow with tears. “You deserved so much better, and I’m sorry it wasn’t given to you.”

For several moments she did her best to hold the woman’s gaze. Then she took her hand and put it over her own neck. “I’ve been hunted three times already, Vic. Do you think it would help people if they succeeded? Do you think you should finish the job for them? Because I’m just a person, like you, and like the people you send to die. I’m not better than you or anyone else. Maybe I’ve made better choices, but that has fuck-all to do with how I was turned. So, which is it? Do we deserve to die or not?”

 For a moment, Vic let herself sink into Morgan’s touch.  There was a tenderness there that she hadn’t let herself experience in years- maybe even centuries.  Morgan’s words, and the gentleness of her tone, danced through her brain.  But then she heard them.  And suddenly, she stood up straight- stoic and cold once again.  “Shut up”, she commanded, taking a step back.  Morgan was wrong, wrong wrong wrong, and Vic didn’t want to hear it.  “You need to shut the fuck up, Morgan.  You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”  She wasn’t like them, not the hunters or the vampires.  She did the right thing by helping the hunters, but she wasn’t a killer.  Winnie barked, sensing the shift in Vic’s mood.  Why the fuck was she still crying? She pointed her finger at Morgan’s chest, a strangled sob escaping her lips before she spoke.  “You think you know everything, don’t you?  You think you’ve got it all figured out.  Well you don’t.  There’s no ‘we’ here.”  That part wasn’t true, and she knew it.  But her anger was like a blanket that covered the rest of her, dark and weighted and letting nothing else out.  At the moment, it felt justified, because Morgan was saying things that could not be true, not if she didn’t want her whole world view to be shattered in an instant.  For a while, she stared at her, daring her to continue speaking.  “Fuck you”, she spat before she got the chance.  Fuck Morgan if she thought she was going to stay there and listen to nonsense like that.  She walked past Morgan at double speed back toward the car, letting out a harsh whistle commanding Winnie to follow. As she walked further and further away, she wiped harshly at her eyes, tears still flowing freely from them.   She wanted desperately to forget it all, but the pain in her heart already alerted her that again, life wouldn’t be so sweet.

 Alone again, Morgan walked around the park until she found the knife she’d thrown aside. Then she sat on the ground, knees pulled up to her chest, and cried. She knew she was right and Vic was scared and guilty more than she was angry, but that didn’t make her world feel any less empty.

[365days365movies]

January 12, 2021: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) (Part 1)

Hey, uh...

I can’t remember if I’ve seen this movie or not.

OK, HEAR ME OUT HERE. I was 9 years old when this movie came out in the USA, and I vividly remember the buzz around this movie when it came out in theaters. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, for those of you who don’t know, is the movie that really introduced wuxia to the United States in the modern century. Directed by Ang Lee - y’know, this guy...

...buuuuuuuuuut, also this guy...

AND YET, still this guy...

- this movie has won a HELL of a lot of awards, and was the critical darling of 2000. And again, I know some of you Tumblrites (goddamn Zoomers DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER NICKELODEON ORANGE AS A COLOR??? Kidding, by the way, y’all are cool) may not be old enough to remember that time, but lemme tell you: this movie was a Mandarin-language movie nominated for Best Picture. Not just Best Foreign Language Film (which it WON), but BEST. PICTURE. Trust me. It was a big deal at the time. 

The film actually did win Best Original Score, Best Art Direction, and Best Cinematography. And as I watch this, I’m going to be remembering both the time period it came out in, and the film that actually won Best Picture that year. What won Best Picture that year, you ask? Well...

Yeah. But is CTHD better or worse than Gladiator? Well, that’s what I’m gonna try to figure out, as well as whether or not 9-year-old me saw this movie already. I don’t think so, so that’s why I’m watching it now. 

So LET’S GO BACK TO THE YEAR 2000, PEOPLE! We just got over that whole Y2K thing (only for the ILOVEYOU virus to pop up), the election was TOTALLY NORMAL (that’s a joke, it...it was not), AOL was the most successful internet company ever (HA! Classic. And Ask Jeeves is gonna last forever, I’m sure), and the below movie would win Best Makeup at the Oscars.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s an Academy Award-winning movie. How the hell does THAT make you feel? Makes me feel conflicted, I tell you what. ANYWAY MOVIE TIME SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Li Mu Bai (Chow Yun Fat, the man himself), a member of the Wudang sect of swordsmen, is retiring. He goes to his old friend (and maybe more), and leader of a private security group, Yu Shu Lien (Michelle Yeoh), who asks her to deliver his personal sword, Green Destiny. Shu Lien goes to Beijing to deliver the sword to an ally of theirs, Sir Te (Sihung Lung), while Mu Bai goes to the grave of his master, who was killed by an assassin named Jade Fox.

In Beijing, Sir Te and Shu Lien talk about the whole “more than friends” thing between her and Mu Bai, and they go to store the sword in a study. There, Sir Te’s granddaughter, Jen (Zhang Ziyi), speaks to Shu Lien about the sword, and about the nature of swordsmanship. This serves an introduction into the world of wuxia swordmanship...and I am GODDAMN HOOKED IN

So is Jen, it would seem, as she speaks with admiration about the freedom that comes with the Way of the Sword (which is distinctly different from the Way of Sarah (Blessed Be Her Fall)). See, Jen’s about to get married, in that arranged way, and she’s not a fan of the whole marriage thing. I get the feeling that she’s planning on doing something about that.

But no time for existential crises now! Someone’s trying to steal Green Destiny! A ninja sneaks in and succeeds in stealing it, but Shu Lien attempts to stop them. However, the thief is trained in Wudan, much to Shu Lien’s surprise. A rooftop chase occurs, giving us the first display of the rampant wire work and loose physics characteristic of this genre, and GODDAMN IT FUCK YE-NO

Keep it together, man, you gotta treat this film critically and seriously, not like an excited little kid watch some kickass martial arts shit. Even though this fight scene is AWESOME, holy shit...

The thief succeeds, but only because a second assailant appears with a dart, distracting Shu Lien. In the morning, the night guard says it was someone from Governor Yu’s household. In the street, the attacker is believed to be the mysterious Jade Fox, who would covet the sword of the man she killed so long ago. Ugh, this movie already rules so hard. Anyway, Shu Lien comes to see Jen again, who’s currently writing calligraphy.

Shu Lien comments that calligraphy writing is similar to swordsmanship. Jen quickly notes that she wouldn’t know. She expounds again on her regrets on marriage, and Shu Lien explains that she was engaged to a fellow swordsman who died. And although Shu Lien and Li Mu Bai love each other, they both feel bound to their fallen friend, and do not act on their feelings. Oh my God, I’m digging this fated romance shit SO HARD

NO. Professionalism. Breathe...focus on the year 2000...Napster...Survivor and Fear Factor...Harry Potter...Pokemon the Movie 2000...Pokemon the Movie 2000: The Power of One...

...Whew. OK. Back to CTHD.

Jen rests in her home, while two people spy on the...Yus. Wait, Jen’s name is...Yu Jen. Um...it’s her. The ninja is Jen. You couldn’t see it in the GIFS, but the ninja could easily be a woman, no question. It’s totally Jen, acting on her desire to be a true swordsperson. I mean, look at her stare at that sword earlier in the movie. Calling it now, it’s her. But...who threw the dart from the rooftop?

Looks like it’s Jade Fox, as a man from earlier explains. See, he’s a police chief from another area, looking for Jade Fox. He believes that she’s somehow infiltrated the Yu household, possibly arriving with them to Beijing. Jade Fox killed the policeman’s wife, making this personal. Together, the policeman Tsai (Wang Deming) and the Night Guard Bo (Gao Xi’an) team up to find her.

They aren’t the only ones, as Li Mu Bai just arrived to Beijing to talk with Shu Lien, and finds out that Jade Fox ha returned. Remember, Jade Fox killed his master, so he has some stakes in this. Meanwhile that night, Tsai and Bo (Team Law) meet Jade Fox, AKA...Jen’s governess! NICE.

Jade Fox (Cheng Pei-pei) fights the...wait...wait WHAT DID I JUST TYPE???

CHENG PEI-PEI FROM COME DRINK WITH ME IS THE VILLAIN OF THIS MOVIE???

And now Chow Yun Fat is fighting one of the first wuxia film stars? OH MY GOD

Chow Yun Fat’s about to kill her to avenge his master, and then the mysterious ninja (AKA probably Yu Jen) saves her from him. The two of them fight, and Jade Fox kills Tsai just before they escape using a streamer HOOOOOOOO IT’S REAL HARD STAYING PROFESSIONAL RIGHT NOW

The next morning, though, Yu Jen learns more about Jade’s crimes, and expresses guilt about taking Green Destiny. Additionally, Shu Lien claims to know who the culprit is, and threatens them with punishment unless the sword is returned. Essentially confirming my suspicions, the ninja returns that night to put the sword back, and Mu Bai is waiting there for her.

Yet another physics-defying rooftop chase occurs, although this one is less frought. They actually refer to the gliding technique as “flying,” and as a technique of Wudan. Interesting, engaging, cinematical, movielian, I love it. I need more of it, MORE PLEASE.

Looks like I might get what I want. Mu Bai offers to be Jen’s teacher, as he sees great potential in her. But she shuns the ways of Wudan, allows Mu Bai to take back Green Destiny, and returns to Jade Fox. Jade Fox is trained as a Giang Hu fighter, a more brutal lifestyle. 

And yet, Jen isn’t really into that either. Turns out that she’s been studying the Wudan manual on her own, and has EFFORTLESSLY surpassed her illiterate former master. With nothing left to teach her, Jade Fox leaves with a veiled threat.

The next night, a man visits Jen, and they embrace passionately. He’s a bandit from the Gobi Desert named Lo, AKA Dark Cloud (Chang Chen), and the two met when his gang ambushed her caravan travelling through the desert. He stle her comb, and this girl just GETS ON A HORSE, GRABS A BOW AND ARROW, and HUNTS HIM DOWN LIKE A DOG FOR THAT COMB. She faces down the gang of bandits, and Dark Cloud leads her away, gives her water, and she KICKS HIS ASS!! But she asses out from exhaustion, and he takes her back to his Cave of Wonders.

He cares for her, and as soon as she regains her strength, she just knocks him out. Cold-blooded, goddamn. But she gets lost in the desert, and passes out again. Lo brings her BACK to the Cave of Wonders, and cares for her AGAIN. My dude is a PRINCE. I mean, he’s a thief and probably a murderer, and definitely a bad person, BUT NEVER MIND THAT FOR NOW.

As you probably guessed, Stockholm/Lima Syndromes set in, and the two fall in love...like you do?

But Jen’s nobleman father is looing for her, making trouble for Lo and his people. He vows to go legit and make himself worthy for her love in her father’s eyes. He tells a story of a boy who leapt off a mountain to save his parents. A literal leap of faith. In their last night together, she gives him the comb that brought them together, saying to give it back when they’re together again.

But now...Jen’s fated to marry, and it can’t be avoided. Lo gives the comb back to her, as she tells him to leave. And I...I need a break. If I don’t take a five minute break, Imma explode from how much I love this goddamn movie.

PART 2 COMING IN A FEW!!!

[myonechicagoworld]

CHICAGO FIRE – VIRAL (S01E16)

                                            [keys clinking]

Matt Casey: Thanks, mom.

Nancy Casey: Matt…

Matt Casey: I’ll see you tomorrow morning. We can… talk then.

Nancy Casey: Oh, oh, oh, jeez.

Matt Casey: Mom, why are you hiding from your parole officer?

Nancy Casey: [sighs] I went out last night. If she tests me, I won’t

                        pass. Just please get rid of her

Matt Casey: [stammers]

                                    [sharp knocks at door]

Matt Casey: Ms. Kendrick.

Lady 1 (Kendrick): Hi, Matt. I’m here to check in on Nancy.

Matt Casey: Yeah, you just missed her. She’s out for a walk.

Lady 1 (Kendrick): I can wait.

Matt Casey: Um, my shift is about to start.

Lady 1 (Kendrick): Fine. Try later.

Matt Casey: Thank you.

                                            cutscene

Clarice: Leslie.

Leslie Shay: Ms. Larocque, so sorry. This is just how it is when I’m

                      on shift. My apologies.

Clarice: Um, look…

                                      [kissing sound]

Clarice: Daniel’s rejected her offer. He wants full custody.

Leslie Shay: I thought you said he’d take the deal.

Lady 2 (Ms. Larocque): It was a good deal, but the father has a

                                        strong case.

Leslie Shay: Does he?

Lady 2 (Ms. Larocque): Let’s look at it from his lawyer’s

                                        perspective. We’ve got a switch-hitter

                                        who married a man, conceived a child

                                        with him, then left him, and took the

                                        child to go live with her former lesbian

                                        lover, a woman with a time-

                                        consuming and very hazardous

                                        occupation.

Leslie Shay: Oh, come on.

Lady 2 (Ms. Larocque): I’m just looking for ways to normalise this

                                        scenario as much as possible.

Leslie Shay: Normalise?

Lady 2 (Ms. Larocque): For instance, you two shacking up with a

                                        skirt-chasing firefighter is not helping our

                                        cause.

Clarice: I-I was just trying to tell her how Kelly has been so helpful.

Lady 2 (Ms. Larocque): Ladies, you want me to convince a judge

                                        that you’re serious about being a family?

                                        Then you need to get Clarice and this

                                        baby into a warm, loving, nurturing, and

                                        yes, normal home.

Clarice: [sighs]

Leslie Shay: Okay. We’ll get our own place.

                                 [station alert buzzes & blares]

                                  [siren wails and horn honks]

Chief Boden: (over radio) All companies be aware, we have a

                        lightweight truss construction heavy structure fire

Victim 1: I can’t get down the stairs. It’s too hot.

Chief Boden: All companies, third-floor rescue. Casey, get me two

                       ladders.

Matt Casey: Got it.

                                         [indistinct chatter]

Matt Casey: Keep it flowing. Herrmann, Mills, Cruz, up the second 

                      ladder

                      [grunts]

                      Gotcha.

Peter Mills: Come on, I got you, man. All right?

                    You’re doing good, man.

Victim 2 (Girl/Child): [coughs]

Leslie Shay: That’s it sweetheart.

Peter Mills: Good job, man.

Victim 1 (Dad): [coughing]

Peter Mills: Okay?

Victim 1 (Dad): Yeah.

Victim 2 (Girl/Child): What about Hudson? You have to get him.

Victim 1 (Man): The dog.

Victim 2 (Girl/Child): Hudson! Hudson!

Matt Casey: Cruz!

Mouch: Stay put, Cruz.

Joe Cruz: Wait a minute! I can hear him.

                 Come here, boy!

Chief Boden: Cruz, get out of there!

Matt Casey: Cruz! Cruz!

Joe Cruz: [grunts]

                  Hudson!

                  Hudson!

                  Where are you, boy?

                                            [dog barking]

                                               [creaking]

                                            [dog barking]

Christopher Herrmann: Come here, come on.

Joe Cruz: Aah!

Matt Casey: (into radio) Man down! (over radio) Man down!

Mouch: I’m going.

                                    [Pass alarm beeping]                                                - title -

                                    [pass alarm beeping]

Matt Casey: Cruz, call out!

                     Cruz!

                                     [beeping continues]

Matt Casey: Hey, Cruz.

                     Cruz!

Mouch: You okay, buddy?

Joe Cruz: Uh, yeah, yeah, I think so.

Matt Casey: All right. We got to move.

Joe Cruz: [groans]

                                            [creaking]

                                   [indistinct shouting]

Matt Casey: Mouch!

Joe Cruz: Mouch! Mouch! Mouch!

Mouch: I’m okay.

Joe Cruz: Mouch!

Matt Casey: This way! Watch your feet!

Joe Cruz: Watch your feet! Gotcha!

                 Let’s go!

Mouch: [panting]

                                [indistinct background chatter]

Gabby Dawson: Mouch, you okay?

Mouch: Yeah.

Joe Cruz: Are you sure, man? Let ‘em check you out.

Mouch: I’m fine.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, Casey, how about you? You all right?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: You got a second-degree burn here.

Chief Boden: Take him to the hospital.

Joe Cruz: It’s nothing, Chief.

Chief Boden: Take him to the hospital.

Victim 2 (Girl/Child): You okay? Good boy.

Christopher Herrmann: Cruz is out of control.

                                                cutscene

                                           [dog growling]

                                        [back up beeping]

Kelly Severide: Hey, Whaley, any new updates on Renee?

Eric Whaley: She’s okay physically. They’re going to keep her on a

                       72-hour hold.

                       Psychiatric observation.

Kelly Severide: Did you talk to her?

Eric Whaley: She wouldn’t see me.

                      I, uh, I don’t know what to do.

                                              cutscene

Matt Casey: Thank you.

Gabby Dawson: Hey.

Matt Casey: Hey.

Gabby Dawson: How long are you going to freeze me out?

Matt Casey: I’m not freezing you out.

                     I gotta talk to Boden.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, sure.

Matt Casey: Cruz is still in the ER. He’s telling doctors he wants to

                      come back and finish his shift.

Chief Boden: Did you happen to notice if Cruz’s bunker gear had a

                       cape sewn into it?

Matt Casey: No, Chief. It definitely does not.

Chief Boden: Then please dissuade your man of the notion that he

                        is invincible.

Matt Casey: Sure.

Otis Zvonecek: (recording) And that’s how our fellow firefighter was

                           saved today.

                           56 hits in less than an hour. Just tell me this thing’s

                           not going to go viral.

Gabby Dawson: Glad to see Mouch’s near-death experience can

                            help drive traffic to your podcast.

Otis Zvonecek: The whole point of the podcast is to show people

                           what we really do.

Christopher Herrmann: You’re supposed to be looking up how-to

                                         videos on taping drywall.

Otis Zvonecek: All right.

Christopher Herrmann: We got to get back to fixing up the

                                         Bombadier, all right. We’re behind

                                         schedule.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, stop calling it the Bombadier. That name has

                            poisoned the well with the locals. We gotta…

                            re-christen it something else.

Otis Zvonecek: May I propose… Moustache Pete’s?

Gabby Dawson: No, you may not. We need something simple. 

                            A single,  evocative word like, uh, Solstice or

                            Perception or uh…

Otis Zvonecek: Pretentious? Or we could call it something fun like

                           Moustache Pete’s.

Christopher Herrmann: You can name it ‘out of business’ if we

                                         don’t get back on schedule.

Otis Zvonecek: Okay, okay, here we go. How to tape drywall, part 1

                           of… 15.

                           Gee, you know who I bet’s really good at drywall?

                           Casey. Too bad somebody got on his bad side by

                           fraternising with one Detective Voight.

Leslie Shay: Hey, uh, listen, I need…

Kelly Severide: Hey, have I thanked you lately for opening your trap

                           about Renee? Because she’s currently in a psych

                           ward.

Leslie Shay: Kelly, she needs help. How fun do you think this is for

                      her?

Kelly Severide: Yeah. What did you want to talk about?

                                 [station alert buzzes & blares]

(Over PA): Ambulance 61…

Leslie Shay: Tell you later.

(Over PA): Person down, Michigan and Upper Wacker.

Kelly Severide: [sighs]

                                                   cutscene

Matt Casey: Hey, Christie.

                                               [door closes]

Matt Casey: I have a new proposal regarding mom. Give me a call

                     when you can. Bye.

                     Hey, Mouch. You okay?

Mouch: I came to you a while back, about Cruz… how there’s

              something off about him, and you told me to shut up.

Matt Casey: In so many words, I guess.

Mouch: So are you still in charge of our truck, or do I have to go

              around you and talk to Boden?

                                                cutscene

                                       [ambo door closes]

Gabby Dawson: Watching you and Kelly move back in and out of

                            that place is like watching a ping-pong match.

Leslie Shay: [chuckles] I know, I get it. I just hope he understands.

Lady 3 (Good Samaritan): I tried to get him to come inside a store,

                                            but he won’t move.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, it’s too cold for you to be out here, hun.

                            What’s your name?

Man 1: Mick.

Gabby Dawson: Mick, can you stand up?

                            You think you can walk over to that ambulance?

Leslie Shay: Come on, Mick.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, yeah. We got you.

                            Whoa, 70 over 50. What are you on?

Man 1 (Mick): [grunts]

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] Okay, fine. It looks like you might be

                            suffering from exposure, so we’re going to get

                            you to the hospital, all right?

Man 1 (Mick): No.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: It’s nice and warm at the hospital, Mick. You’ll like it.

                      Lots of pretty nurses.

Man 1 (Mick): Prettier than you two?

Leslie Shay: Come on, be realistic.

Gabby Dawson: Hey. Don’t worry about Severide. He’ll totally

                            understand why you need to move out.

Leslie Shay: I know, it’s just… after all the drama, it just sucks

                      having a lawyer make decisions about your living

                      situation.

                      Okay, Mick, just a little pinch.

Man 1 (Mick): [grunts]

Leslie Shay: Ahh! [pants]

                                          [curtains drawing]

ER Doctor: We’ll keep trying to convince him to consent to a blood

                    draw, but we can’t force him to. And unless he does,

                    we can only guess at what transmittable diseases he’s

                    carrying.

Gabby Dawson: And judging from this cocktail of antivirals, you

                            must think this guy’s a walking petri dish.

ER Doctor: Hep-B’s always a big risk. Also Hep-C. The interferon

                    therapy should protect you against those, but given the

                    tracks on his arms and symptoms, I think we need to 

                    treat you as though you’ve been exposed to HIV.

Leslie Shay: How soon can we test for HIV?

ER Doctor: Not for three months after exposure.

                    Here’s the first one.

Leslie Shay: [exhales]

Gabby Dawson: Hey, you’re going to be fine. The statistics are way

                            in your favour.

Leslie Shay: I mean, it’s like Russian roulette. Large bore needle

                     filled with this guy’s blood. If he has the hiccups, I’m

                     going to catch ‘em.

                                                  cutscene

                                           [tv in background]

Peter Mills: Hey, uh, Lieutenant, I was hoping to ask you a question.

                    Um, I was looking at the list of up and coming classes

                    at the academy, and I’m… I’m trying to figure out which

                    ones to take to, if possible, make a move to Squad?

Kelly Severide: Let me eat my cornflakes first.

Peter Mills: Yeah. Yeah, sure.

Chief Boden: We can finish the exposure paperwork later.

                        Don’t worry, Shay, you’re getting the best care

                        available.

Leslie Shay: Thanks, Chief.

Kelly Severide: What’s wrong with her?

Gabby Dawson: Needle stick.

Mouch: Ugh. Was he sick?

Gabby Dawson: Yellow, track marks, and he didn’t agree to a blood

                            panel.

Peter Mills: You okay?

Gabby Dawson: I just want this shift to end. Casey hates me, now

                            my partner gets stuck.

Peter Mills: Casey?

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, forget it. It’s fine.

Peter Mills: Screw him. He doesn’t understand you, it’s his problem.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Mills.

                                           cutscene

Leslie Shay: Even if it’s just Hep-C, it’s, you know, 80% of infections

                      are chronic, and um, I’d be on disability for months,

                      and if Daniel’s lawyer finds out… [lightly sobs]

Kelly Severide: You’re getting ahead of yourself.

Leslie Shay: [sighs]

Kelly Severide: Wait for the test to come back.

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

                      [sighs] Um… the lawyer said that living with you isn’t

                      normal  enough [voice breaking] So I have to move

                      out. I’m sorry.

Kelly Severide: You do whatever it takes to keep you, Clarice and

                           that baby together.

Leslie Shay: Yeah. Thanks.

                                              cutscene

                                      [tv in background]

Joe Cruz: Hey, Mouch.

Mouch: How’s the arm?

Joe Cruz: Burned but fine.

                 Hey, man, I wanted to thank you again.

Mouch: It’s in the job description, right?

Joe Cruz: Yeah.

                  Hey, also, I think I owe you an apology.

                  [sighs]

                                             cutscene

                                       [knocks on door]

                                           [door shuts]

Gabby Dawson: [sighs] I realise you may not understand why I went

                            to Voight. 

                            I didn’t have another choice, and it made all the

                            difference in Antonio’s case.

Matt Casey: He threatened me and my fiancé.

Gabby Dawson: He saved my brother, Casey.

                                           [knock on door]

Mouch: Cruz is back, in case you’re interested.

                                              [door closes]

Joe Cruz: I screwed up, Lieutenant. It won’t happen again, believe

                 me.

Matt Casey: I tried that once already. When you told me you could

                      live with your sins, that turned out to be a lie.

Joe Cruz: Lieutenant, you got to believe…

Matt Casey: This is not a conversation! If you’ve come to hate

                      yourself, if you’ve decided that you don’t deserve to

                      live, well, that’s your problem. Do you wanna stand

                      at the ceremony where we pin Mouch’s badge next

                      to Darden’s because he burned to death trying to

                      save someone who’s already dead inside? If your

                      badge isn’t on Boden’s desk by next shift, I’ll go to

                      the police about Flaco. It’ll mean the end of my

                      career too. But hey, I’ll pound nails for a living.

                      What I can’t do is stand by and watch you

                      endanger one more of my men.

                                               [somber music]

                                                   cutscene

Lady 4 (Real Estate Agent): The kitchen’s just being redone. New

                                               cabinets, new appliances, laundry 

                                               hook-ups are right over there.

Leslie Shay: Okay.

                      Um… school wise, uh, I know Wesley’s young, but…

Lady 4 (Real Estate Agent): Oh, it’s never too early to think about

                                               that. We’re in the very desirable Bell

                                                elementary school district. But I

                                                have to be honest with you. I’ve

                                                got a lot of people interested in

                                                this unit.

Leslie Shay: Okay, can you just give us, like, a second?

Lady 4 (Real Estate Agent): Sure.

Leslie Shay: Thank you.

Clarice: Uh, okay. Thank you.

              So the uh, the lawyer says that Daniel’s attorneys could find

              out about the needle stick during discovery.

Leslie Shay: Look, Daniel’s lawyer can say whatever he wants.

                      What that judge is going to see is a family ready to

                      provide Wesley with a warm and loving home… in

                      a very desirable school district.

Clarice: You’re right [chuckles lightly]

               I’m sorry.

               We’ll take it.

                                             cutscene

                                             [buzzer]

Kelly Severide: [sniffs]

Renee Whaley: [clears throat]

                          [scoffs]

                                         [door closes]

Renee Whaley: What, you expected a straitjacket?

                          Why are you here exactly?

Kelly Severide: Because your brother asked me to come.

Renee Whaley: Poor Eric. He thinks he’s finally cracked the puzzle 

                           that is Renee.

                           All this nonsense about me sleeping with Dean.

Kelly Severide: I’m not here to argue about that.

Renee Whaley: Oh, right, because as my life turned to ashes, you

                          just coasted on and forgot all about me.

Kelly Severide: You don’t know anything about my life.

Renee Whaley: [scoffs] I know that Kelly Severide is doing just fine.

                          We’re done. Take me back.

                          Open the door.

Kelly Severide: Renee.

                                         [keypad beeping]

                                               [buzzer]

                                            [door closes]

                                               cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: Dawson, you have absolutely no idea what you’re

                           doing, huh?

Gabby Dawson: What are you talking about?

Otis Zvonecek: Call Casey.

                           [sighs]

                                         [metal clanging]

                                    [wall plaster dropping]

Christopher Herrmann: What the hell?

                       [metal clangs & wall plaster dropping]

Otis Zvonecek: Whoa.

Christopher Herrmann: Stephanidies didn’t say anything about a

                                         safe.

Gabby Dawson: What do you think’s inside?

Christopher Herrmann: Nothing good. My luck don’t run that way.

                                              [metal clangs]

Otis Zvonecek: Well, let’s open it and find out. Worst-case scenario,

                           it’s empty.

Christopher Herrmann: What if it contains a decomposed head of

                                         some gangster that went missing in the

                                         ‘20s? Next thing you know, this bar gets

                                         wrapped in crime scene tape, and we

                                         can’t get back in here.

Otis Zvonecek: If there’s a mobster’s head in there, Moustache

                           Pete’s gonna be famous.

Gabby Dawson: We’re not calling it Moustache Pete’s.

Otis Zvonecek: Yes we are.

Christopher Herrmann: Forget it. That safe is bad news.

                                         Look out.

Gabby Dawson: Hey Herrmann!

                                                   cutscene

Matt Casey: Each week my shift moves up a day. Tuesday and

                      Friday this week, Monday and Thursday next

                      week. I’ve drawn up a list of house rules that

                      mom would have to agree to. Uh, curfews, when

                      she can have visitors. You can add whatever you

                      want to the list.

Christie: Matt, no.

Matt Casey: Christie, I need you. Please, at least on the days I’m on

                      shift.

Christie: Will I have to learn how to lie to her parole officer too?

                                         [chair slides back]

Christie: Mom.

Nancy Casey: Christie.

                        You look wonderful.

                        Wow, you realise this is the first time we’ve all been

                        together as a family in, like, 15 years?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Nancy Casey: I guess the real purpose of this meeting is to [sniffs]

                        discuss the mom problem.

Christie: Okay, fine. I’ll talk to Jim.

Matt Casey: Okay. Now let’s eat.

                      The chicken sandwich is great, by the way.

Christie: I’m a vegan [clears throat]

Matt Casey: Since when?

Christie: [scoffs] Going on ten years, Matt.

Matt Casey: I did not know that. I… wow.

                     Is that like a vegetarian, or is it the eggs thing? You

                     can’t eat anything?

Christie: Oh my gosh.

Matt Casey: What?

Christie: Do I seriously have to explain this to you?

Matt Casey: What? No, that’s fine.

                                          cutscene

                                     [knock on door]

Kelly Severide: Hey, did you get my message?

Eric Whaley: Yeah. What did she say?

Kelly Severide: Nothing that matters. She’s angry.

Eric Whaley: At me?

Kelly Severide: At me. At… at… at everything.

                          Look, I-I’m sorry, but all this was against my better

                          judgement, and now she’s spinning out, so…

Eric Whaley: No, I get it. I get it. Thanks, Kelly.

                      This is, uh, it’s my last shift at 51. I’m glad we got the

                       chance to work together.

                                          [door shuts]

                                            cutscene

Mouch: Is Cruz gonna grace us with his presence today?

Matt Casey: I don’t know.

Mouch: You talk to him?

Matt Casey: I did.

Mouch: How’d that talk go?

Matt Casey: Don’t worry about it, Mouch. I talked to him. That’s all

                      you need to know.

                                      [locker door shuts]

                                              cutscene

Priest: “You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the

              coming wrath? Produce good fruit as evidence of your

              repentance. Even now, the axe lies at the root of the

              trees. Therefore, every tree, which does not bear good

              fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. I am

              baptising you with water for repentance, but the one

              who is coming after me is mightier than I. I am not

              worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptise you with

              the Holy Spirit and fire. And do not presume to say

              to yourselves, ‘we have Abraham as our father.’”

Child 1: Look, mom, a fireman.

Priest: “And raise up children to Abraham with these stones. Then

             Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan to be

             baptised by him. John tried to prevent him, saying, ‘I need

             to be baptised by you, and yet you come to me?’ Jesus

             said to him… [continues speaking in background]

                                            cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: I read the whole thing, front to back. There’s no

                           codicil in this deed about any safe.

Gabby Dawson: We bought the bar, lockstock, and barrel. That

                            means the safe rightly belongs to you, me and

                            Otis.

Otis Zvonecek: Along with whatever’s inside. Whether it’s an old

                          stamp  collection or bearer bonds or, gold

                          doubloons.

Gabby Dawson: You’re outvoted Herrmann, two to one.

Christopher Herrmann: We didn’t buy that bar hoping to find

                                        buried treasure. We bought it as an

                                        honest investment. And for the first

                                        time in my life, I feel like I’m onto

                                        something good and real. Now

                                        whatever is in that safe, somebody

                                        put it in there and locked it away for

                                        a reason. Why don’t we leave it alone

                                        and get on with our plan?

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, we’re gonna open the safe.

Otis Zvonecek: Seconded.

                                   [station alert buzzes & blares]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Ambulance 61, Battalion 25. Bomb squad

                  assist, Wrightwood and Jesse.

Dispatcher: (over radio) CPD be advised, divert all traffic. Bomb

                     disposal unit on site in Lincoln Square.

Peter Mills: So what exactly is our role in a bomb squad assist?

Christopher Herrmann: Nothing. Not unless the bomb tech snips

                                         the wrong wire.

Matt Casey: What’s the story, Chief?

Chief Boden: A tenant committed suicide in his car around back,

                       shot himself in the head. But the police are suspect

                       because the deceased was turned down four times

                       by the CPD, and there is a gasoline smell coming

                       from the inside.

Man 2 (Bomb Tech Squad Lt): Zoom in.

                                                   Our mast camera confirmed the

                                                   place is wired.

Man 3 (Bomb Tech): We should cut our way in.

Kelly Severide: We have access to the apartment above?

                                         [whirring]

Man 3 (Bomb Tech): That’ll do it.

Kelly Severide: Great, we’ll get out of your way.

                             [indistinct radio chatter]

Man 3 (Bomb Tech): Whoa. There’s a woman down there.

                                [suspenseful music]

Leslie Shay: The neighbour say it’s his ex-wife.

Man 2 (Bomb Tech Squad Lt): My guy will go in and see if it’s

                                                   secure and your guys can bring

                                                   her out.

Chief Boden: (into radio) Severide, you sure you want (over radio) to

                        do this?

Kelly Severide: (into radio) We’re here, right? (over radio) Gonna

                           need a jump bag, though.

Chief Boden: (into radio) Copy that.

Kelly Severide: All right. Okay.

Man 3 (Bomb Tech): Carpet’s wet. Gasoline.

                                   She’s been stabbed. Come on down.

Kelly Severide: (into radio) Dawson, Shay, she’s got a steak knife

                          stuck in her abdomen.

Gabby Dawson: (into radio) Pulse?

Kelly Severide: (over radio) Weak.

                          Hey, can you get us out that door?

Man 3 (Bomb Tech): There’s quick, and there’s safe. Which do you

                                   want?

Kelly Severide: I wanna save this woman’s life.

Man 3 (Bomb Tech): Huh.

Kelly Severide: Huh?”W-What huh?

Man 3 (Bomb Tech): A small incendiary device set to spark the

                                   gasoline. This’ll take a few minutes to

                                   disarm.

Kelly Severide: She doesn’t have a few minutes.

Man 3 (Bomb Tech): I got two more wires splitting here. It’s wired

                                   here too. Headed… Here we go.

                                   I got at least 5 pounds of mixed ammonium

                                   nitrate. Well that plus the gasoline is a

                                   fertiliser bomb.

Kelly Severide: (into radio) Hey, Chief, (over radio) is everyone

                           back?

Chief Boden: (into radio) You just get yourself down here, Kelly.

Gabby Dawson: (into radio) How’s she doing, Severide?

Kelly Severide: (into radio) Weaker.

Gabby Dawson: (over radio) How much blood’s on the floor?

Kelly Severide: (into radio) Uh, it’s not that much.

Gabby Dawson: (into radio) Then she’s bleeding internally. You

                            gotta move.

                            (over radio) Pack that knife, so it doesn’t shift when

                            you move her.

Kelly Severide: (over radio) Where the hell’s that jump bag?

                           (into radio) Whaley’s here.

Gabby Dawson: (over radio) Use all the gauze and tape he’s got to 

                            keep it secure.

Eric Whaley: Someone’s always got it worse.

Kelly Severide: Ain’t that right.

                          (over radio) Packing around the knife. Hey, we need

                          that door open now.

Man 3 (Bomb Tech): (over radio) Attempting to disarm the door.

Chief Boden: (into radio) Kelly. Kelly.

Man 3 (Bomb Tech): (over radio) We’re good. Door’s open.

Kelly Severide: (over radio) Woman’s coming out.

Eric Whaley: Who says engine only knows how to put out a fire?

                                                 cutscene

Matt Casey: Okay. I’ll talk to Boden.

                                                [door shuts]

Mouch: [sighs] What happened, Joe?

                                             [knocks on door]

Joe Cruz: I kicked in that door, convinced Leon was in there.

                 I even knew I was too late.

                 But it wasn’t Leon, it was Flaco.

Mouch: Dead. It was Flaco, and you were too late.

Joe Cruz: All I could think was, if I pulled him out of those flames, I

                  might as well throw Leon back in.

Mouch: Ah, you don’t know that.

Joe Cruz: I thought that God was just handing me the answer to my

                 problems.

                 But now I know it was the devil. I thought I could run from

                 him, non-stop. First one in, last one out [shaky breath]

                 And then I almost killed you. I could have killed Otis or

                 Herrmann or Casey, all because I’m weak [sobs]

                 But now I know… I’m the one that has to suffer, not you.

Mouch: Joe, I forgive you.

Joe Cruz: [sobbing] It’s not right for me to bring my sins into this

                 house and have my brothers sacrifice for what I did.

Mouch: Joe, listen to me. I forgive you.

Joe Cruz: [sobs]

                                      cutscene

Chief Boden: What can I do for you, Casey?

Mouch: Lieutenant! Can I have a minute?

Matt Casey: Now’s not a good time, Mouch.

Mouch: Yes, it is.

                                   [door closes]

Mouch: You don’t have to do this to him.

Matt Casey: There’s more to it that you know, Mouch.

Mouch: He told me everything. Now I don’t know if he was waiting

              for God or Flaco’s ghost or just somebody to say it, but

              he needed to know what he did was okay. He screwed

              up. He knows it. But he was taking care of his family.

              How far would you go for the ones you love? How far

              have you gone?

                                          [door closes]

                                             cutscene

Peter Mills: [chuckles]

                                         [phone rings]

Leslie Shay: Hello?

                      Yes, this is Leslie Shay.

                       He consented to a blood draw.

Gabby Dawson: That’s good isn’t it?

Leslie Shay: Mmhmm, mmhmm.

                      Okay, thank you.

                      He’s clean, he tested negative for everything [sigh of

                      relief]

                      Oh…

                                          [giggling]

                                          cutscene

                                           [buzzer]

                                        [door shuts]

Man 4 (Orderly): Good luck, Renee.

Renee Whaley: Yeah, thanks.

                           For real?

Kelly Severide: Come get in the car. There’s something we need to

                           see.

Renee Whaley: Go to hell.

Kelly Severide: You’ll full of it, you know that?

Renee Whaley: Oh I am, huh? Is that gonna get me into your car?

Kelly Severide: Ignore everything that’s real, go ahead.

Renee Whaley: Whatever.

Kelly Severide: Your brother was a hero today.

Renee Whaley: That is so low.

Kelly Severide: You stopped, didn’t you?

                           30 minutes. Then I take you anywhere you want to

                           go.

                                               cutscene

                                          [saw whirring]

                                        [metal clanging]

Gabby Dawson: [sighs] It’s just a box.

                            We never should have opened this.

                                        cutscene

                                   [car door shuts]

Matt Casey: Mom’s just getting her things.

Christie: Okay.

Matt Casey: Thanks for agreeing to this, Christie. I really think it’ll

                      work.

Christie: Yeah, well, tomorrow morning at 8:01, she’s all yours

                again.

Matt Casey: Understood.

Christie: Friend of yours?

Matt Casey: Nope

Nancy Casey: That’s Cheyenne.

Matt Casey: Your old cellmate?

Nancy Casey: Yeah.

                         You two gave me back my freedom, but I don’t want

                          to be your problem anymore. So I’m gonna go stay

                          with Cheyenne until I figure out what’s next.

Matt Casey: Mom, I don’t think your PO is going…

Nancy Casey: Aww, don’t worry I’ll sort things out with Kendrick.

                        But I’m not gonna be the wedge that drives you two

                        apart anymore.

                        Oh, be a brother and sister again, okay? You know,

                        be there for each other.

                        Hey, how’s it going?

Lady 5 (Cheyenne): Hi.

                                        [car door shuts]

                                            cutscene

Lady 4 (Real Estate Agent): Are we gonna sign the lease or not?

Leslie Shay: Yes, we are. We definitely are, I’m sorry. I can’t get a

                       hold of her. Um…

                       Oh, hey.

Clarice: Hey.

Leslie Shay: Did you get my message?

Clarice: Yeah, that’s, uh… great news.

Leslie Shay: We should sign the lease.

Clarice: Uh, actually, would you mind giving us a second?

              So, um… Daniel offered to settle. You know, split custody, I

              mean, if I move to New York with the baby.

Leslie Shay: Good, that’s great. He blinked.

Clarice: I took the deal

Leslie Shay: What?

Clarice: I just, I can’t keep fighting him anymore, Les. So I’m gonna

              go to, uh, I’m gonna go to New York.

Leslie Shay: No, Clarice. Just stand up to him. We can win this.

Clarice: I’m leaving tonight.

              Shay…

                                           cutscene

                                    [engine rumbling]

Renee Whaley: Okay, I get it.

Kelly Severide: Come on.

                                  [car door shuts]

Renee Whaley: [scoffs]

                          [huffs]

Kelly Severide: It’s quieter than I remember.

Renee Whaley: Please don’t.

Kelly Severide: You’re the one who said life never looked simpler

                           than it did from right here.

Renee Whaley: Well, that was crap. Sometimes a view is just a

                           view. [exhales]

Kelly Severide: You know, I never had anything close to a real

                           relationship since you.

Renee Whaley: Really?

Kelly Severide: One girl I liked… really liked… but she left. Or I let

                          her leave. I should have made it work, but

                          sometimes, it’s easier just to let things fall apart.

Renee Whaley: I slept with Dean.

                          And now I see you, and I see my family. And all I can

                          see is what I lost.

Kelly Severide: Sometimes a view is just a view.

Renee Whaley: [chuckles]

                          [sniffles]

Kelly Severide: I’ve missed you.

Renee Whaley: I figured you hated me.

Kelly Severide: Oh I did.

                          But not anymore.

                                        [engine revving]

                                          [door closes]

                                        [car door closes]

                                          [engine starts]

                                                - end -

Definitions:

Skirt-chasing = A man with amorous intentions who habitually seeks our female companionship

Lightweight truss construction = Consists of top and bottom members that run parallel. These are referred to as chords and are made of wood. These chords are cross – connected for support by wood that forms a web like pattern. The wood members are connected together with a fastener made of stamped sheet metal containing spikes

Hep-B = Hepatitis B is an infection of the liver caused by a virus that’s spread through blood and body fluids. It often does not cause any obvious symptoms in adults, and typically passes in a few months without treatment. But in children, it often persists for years and may eventually cause serious liver damage

Hep-C = Hepatitis C is an infectious disease caused by the hepatitis C virus (HCV) that primarily affects the liver; it is a type of viral hepatitis. During the initial infection, people often have mild or no symptoms. Occasionally, a fever, dark urine, abdominal pain and yellow tinged skin occurs. Hepatitis C can usually be treated with antiviral medicines. These need to be taken for several weeks. You can catch Hepatitis C from contact with blood of an infected person, such as sharing needles. It’s very rare to catch it from having sex.

Interferon therapy = It is a possible treatment for a number of different types of cancer. It is also used to treat conditions other than cancer including Hepatitis B and Hepatitis C

HIV = Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV) is a virus that damages the cells in your immune system and weakens your ability to fight everyday infections and disease. HIV can be transmitted from 1 person to another. There’s currently no cure for HIV, but there are very effective drug treatments that enable most people with the virus to live a long and healthy life.

Codicil = An addition or supplement that explains, modifies, or revokes a will or part of one.

Ammonium nitrate = Is a chemical compound with the chemical formula NH4NO3. It is a white crystalline solid consisting of ammonium and nitrate. It is highly soluble in water and hygroscopic as a solid, although it does not form hydrates. It is predominantly used in agriculture as a high-nitrogen fertiliser. Ammonium nitrate, which is used in fertilisers and bomb making, is a salt made from ammonium and nitric acid, and is highly explosive. The more ammonium nitrate, the bigger its explosive capacity. Once a reaction is sparked, ammonium nitrate explodes violently.

PO = Probation officer

[lavenderek]

So you're saying you don't think "underage" fic is gross. Is that what youre saying?

well, no. yuck. what i’m saying is, what exactly and specifically do we want to happen?

there should not be explicit fic about underage characters, got it. so what age can they not be under? 18? 16? what country’s laws regarding the age of consent do we prioritize? like, i think it’s gross that the age of consent is 16 in some places, but i’m an american, so i would, wouldn’t i? so ok, what if we hedged it a bit and put the age as like, 14? that way it’s not little kids, it’s all teenagers. but no, gross, 14-year-olds are children. fun fact: so are 16-year-olds. they are also children.

what about fic about two teenagers having a consensual encounter? should all romantic or sexual fic have to be about adults only? your answer to this may very well be “yes,” and that’s completely valid. a teenager writing fic might disagree. somebody who’s a big fan of a show that’s about a bunch of teenagers might disagree. should there be an adults-only section on the site? there’s already a “stop, you have to be 18″ box to check before you can access explicit fic, so how do we verify a user’s age? they can just lie about their age and click through anyway. you have to be 18 to make a youtube account and i’ve had one since i was 13. i remember very deliberately choosing a new birth year when it asked for my birthdate.

then you get to slightly greyer areas like large age gaps, or heavy role play between consenting adults. i have absolutely witnessed fic that’s clearly written to be CP, but it’s tagged as age play. so like, for all intents and purposes this is CP, but if you roll in like “hey, this is fucked up,” they can be like, “oh, so you read this picturing actual children, sicko?? you have a problem with two adults doing shit in the bedroom??? how dare you!!! don’t like don’t read!!!”

it’s kind of like on porn sites, how they make like nasty inc*st stuff but call it “stepmom” or whatever, like oh, they’re not actually related! sure, joseph, thanks for covering all your bases

so we can’t ban kinks. or can we? should we limit depictions of serious addictions or domestic abuse too? torture, or even body horror? these are generally accepted to be dark content.

i’m not trying to engage in whataboutism, i’m naming actual, relevant questions about shit that’s disturbing in real life (no offense to kink people who follow codes of consent and conduct) and can be incredibly upsetting to encounter online. shit that i can’t imagine wanting to read, let alone write.

these are the questions that we, you, i, people pro-a*3 and people anti-a*3, are all asking, and not a single one of us can or should answer them unilaterally.

so it’s like, oh, okay, so there should be no oversight at all? should there be no rules? no, obviously, that would be horrible, i don’t trust any of these fuckers to conduct themselves civilly. so there should be some rules, but not too many rules. that’s what we have now, and clearly the way things are now isn’t working because a lot of users are reasonably very upset.

should there be a voting system, and rules are set by a popular vote? should certain words be flagged and you can’t post the fic with that word in it? should there be a thing where when you post a fic, you have to select the ages of each character and that’s listed at the top of the fic? what if they age during the fic? should there be a flagging function, where you report someone for not using sufficient tags? users will find workarounds for all of this. you know they will. so mods will have to be very specific about the rules and introduce, like, a vetting system for it. which is a lot more manpower and a lot more chances for subjective judgments.

all of the above is why it operates on a tagging system instead. i’m gonna be real, i only go on a*3 to read comments on my own shit lmao, and even when i did go on there more often i never went in the tags searching for fic. so is there a blacklist function? is there a flagging function?

if there is a flagging function, maybe they make it so that if the flagged user has violated the rules, their account is suspended and their fic made private for the duration and until they add necessary tags.

cool, a compromise. but uh-oh, it turns out Mod A agrees that this fic is n*ncon, but Mod B thinks it’s just vague, not n*nconsensual, and doesn’t feel comfortable banning the fic. or it turns out User didn’t post anything flaggable, they were reported by somebody who is targeting them for some reason, or by someone who is more stringent about n*ncon than somebody else would be, like, it’s gotta be enthusiastic and verbal consent or else it’s skirting the edges too much.

it’s like, we’ve already witnessed censorship (please take this word usage gently, i know it’s touchy but it’s the word to use here) being a problem here on tumblr with their stupid nipple ban. there’s a double standard regarding whose nipples are explicit and whose are kosher for public consumption. people have to appeal their shit getting flagged and sometimes nothing gets fixed regardless. i’m sure other people are pleased that there’s less of a chance of them accidentally scrolling past a picture of a hard dick at work.

so you get it, this is a problem that’s more complicated than “all of x should be banned and if you post it there’s something wrong with you,” a belief you’re more than entitled to hold but can’t base, like, fanfic legislation off of. you get it you get it.

you get it, but like, what is the fucking deal with those “fandom moms” who go off on soliloquies about the days of old or whatever the fuck whenever this topic comes up? what about the weirdos who are like, “what’s next, banning gay fic????” yeah, if we allow gay marriage you can marry a tree, that’s how it works, thanks tiffany.

but no, the reason they do this is NOT that they think lgbtq content is comparable in any way to CP. the reason they do this is that this exact problem has taken place on every site that has ever hosted fic. and many previous sites did think lgbtq content was comparable to CP. it was categorized as adult content and hidden.

that’s why a*3 exists in the first place. it was to avoid godmodding and absolutism. it’s supposed to be more or less self-governed. i don’t want there to be CP on a*3 any more than you do, but i also don’t trust randos to decide what is and isn’t acceptable content. this topic is not new.

i’m in support of stronger government regulation in real life because it can be argued that certain actions and systems violate human rights. everybody deserves food and shelter, for example. the same can’t be argued in this case because some creep writing CP doesn’t violate my rights. i find it offensive and i don’t think they should be writing it, but my right to click the back button is intact. there is no institution making it impossible or even difficult for me to not read fanfiction. the creep could just as reasonably argue that their right to post what they want is being affected.

why is this response so long? is it because i can’t shut up? yes, but also because this is a complex issue and that’s why nobody has taken significant action on it.

people are also big mad.

i’ve never understood this impulse to see somebody not doing a thing you want them to do and assume it’s out of malice or incompetence, anyway. i don’t know anybody who volunteers for a*3 but it’s my assumption that given the choice to have us all pissed at them, or have us all not pissed at them, they would choose to have us not be pissed at them. it just seems like the reasonable reaction to have. and like, i’d be pretty shocked to part the kimono and find out they’re all CP-loving gargoyles and a*3 actually stands for A lot Of child abus3. that is the reason i have not been like, “fuck a*3.” because what are they supposed to do, you know?

there’s no simple or inarguably morally right solution here. the princess is in another castle. just post fic on tumblr, i guess? make another hosting site that’s exactly like a*3 but romantic characters can only be like, 21?

i actually think the legal age in the US should be raised to 21, not joking. your brain literally and biologically isn’t finished developing at 18. teenagers lack the world experience to make decisions that adults make.

somewhere there is an 18-year-old or a person who moved out and became self sufficient at 18 who hates this sentiment. there’s a teenager in an abusive home who would be intensely demoralized by the prospect of having to remain beholden to these people for three more years.

and there’s a parent who is relieved to know that their kid can’t be preyed on by army recruiters for three more years. there’s a person who got into a car crash with a teenager who misjudged whether or not they could make a turn who’s like, yeah, she could probably have benefited from a few more years.

nothing is as simple as it should be. i agree with you, but i’m not willing to pass blanket judgments with regards to actions that should be taken. and honestly, given how little i actually go on the site, i don’t even have a dog in this fight. so all my opinions on it are moot anyway.

(side note, if you are in an abusive home and you can’t make your own bank account, or if your bank account is monitored by your abusive parents, maybe try venmo? you can get a debit card that pulls directly from your venmo balance. a surprising number of places accept venmo payments, and this way you can save up money in secret.)

anyway uhhhhh seeya