#didn’t even say hi or anything/just asked that/also never met her aunt or any thought/consideration of me

[galariangengar]

One of my friends/roommates from my last year of college posted a note on Instagram last night saying something like “bitches be hating cuz they think my media is ‘toxic’”. Kinda shady and sus tbh… I checked my facebook and came across her page, and she has posted quotes of shit saying like “thank you to the real friends that check up on me from time to time” and “I don’t want to deal with drama. I just wanna live, laugh and prosper”. Like… idk what you’re going through (if anything bad/negative is happening with you rn), but that does seem hella shady tbh…

[imherongraystairstrash]

I think I speak on behalf of the fandom when I say we need a fic of jesse learning to shave (cause Tatiana sure as hell prob didn’t care, so maybe he just did it some rlly dumb way until Gideon teaches him AND ITS A UNCLE NEPHEW BONDING MOMENT). also I absolutely adore your writing ❤️

Why, thank you so very much! I'm sorry for taking so long to write it, but I loved this prompt! Once I started writing it, I was able to finish it in one sitting! I had to look up how to shave a beard though loll

I hope you enjoy it!

There's a first for everything

Characters: Jesse, Sophie and Gideon

Jesse didn’t know how to feel about living with his Uncle Gideon and Aunt Sophie. Before living with them, Jesse had only had a single interaction with Gideon, which is one more than he had with Sophie. If he had had any others, he didn’t remember. 

His Aunt Cecily, for example, had held him for a brief period of time when he was a baby at Will and Tessa’s wedding—how strange that he attended Lucie’s parents' wedding when he was a baby, considering she was his… well, Jesse didn’t exactly know what they were to each other yet; they hadn’t really had time to discuss it—something he has no recollection of. 

It was strange living in their house. He saw a few pictures of Sophie and Gideon’s children in the parlor when they were young. There was a portrait of Barbara Lightwood, the cousin he never had the opportunity to meet. He looked at her, eyes filled with the promise that she’d do incredible things. 

“She used to ask about you, you know?”

Jesse had startled, turning to find Sophie’s film frame by the door. She quietly walked over to him, so that she stood beside him, gazing at the portrait of her oldest daughter. There was a deep sadness in her eyes that Jesse could observe before he found out she’d lost a daughter. Though now, he could see a hint of resignation in her expression, an undertone of acceptance. As if she knew that this was the course of life.

“Did she really?”

“Oh, yes. ‘Mama, can cousin Jesse come to my birthday?’ ‘couldn’t we adopt cousin Jesse?’ ‘what is cousin Jesse’s favorite color?’” Sophie smiled a little. “She would fry my brain with questions about you. Sometimes Gideon would joke that she loved you more than she did anyone else.”

Jesse looked at the portrait more meaningfully. Who was this girl who had longed to meet him? How is it fair that she never got to? That he never knew anything about her? It felt so wrong to him, so painfully cruel.

“If I had known someone had liked me so, perhaps I would have made more of an effort to escape.”

He could see Sophie turn to look at him through his peripheral vision, though he glued his eyes to the portrait, not wanting to look at her. 

“We all loved you, Jesse. Gideon and Gabriel were desperate to meet you when you were born. We wanted nothing more than to take you with us the first time we met you and every other time we caught even just a glimpse of you.”

Jesse managed to peel his eyes off of the portrait because he didn’t want to seem rude, especially after Sophie and Gideon had insisted on him staying in their home. He offered her a half smile.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For caring.”

Sophie’s eyes softened considerably. 

And though they had never met properly before a couple of days prior, after that moment, Sophie and Jesse had shared a mutual affection for one another that only grew each day.

Is this what it’s like to have a mother? Jesse thought. Is a mother supposed to be someone who makes me happy just by walking into the room? Someone to what to tell your troubles to? Though Jesse hasn’t done it, he felt an urge to do so. And he has a feeling that if he did, Sophie would listen and offer advice that would most likely make him think of course! but at the same time, not feel foolish for not having thought of it before.

However, Jesse felt conflicted about how to act around Gideon. He’d never had a father, nor any sort of significant male figure present in his life for that matter. He had had a mother, however cruel she may have been. But he didn’t have the slightest idea on how men treated each other. He didn’t know how to talk to him.

Jesse looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He had to shave like he did every morning. He got the bar of soap and put some of the suds on his cheek. He got a pocket knife and began the chore that was shaving. The only good thing about being a ghost had been that he didn’t have to shave every morning.

“Jesse?” He heard someone call. He startled, causing the blade of the knife to slip, making a cut on his cheek. He flinched and washed off the soap that was making his cut sting. Thankfully the knife was blunt enough that the cut was very shallow.

“Yes?” He asked.

Jesse saw Gideon outside the bathroom door, that he had left slightly ajar. 

“We wanted to know if you wished to—are you all right?”

Jesse nodded.

“You’re bleeding,” Gideon said. His eyes caught sight of the knife in Jesse’s hand and his eyes widened.

“Oh right, yes I was just, having trouble erm, shaving.”

Gideon’s horrified expression turned into one of confusion. “Shaving?”

Now Jesse was confused. Surely Gideon shaved, did he not? Otherwise wouldn’t he have a beard?

“Erm, yes. Shaving.”

“With a knife?”

Jesse looked down at his knife. “With what else?”

Gideon’s mouth opened slightly, as if appalled and then, after a beat, closed. 

“I shall be right back.” He said. “Just, please put away that knife and stay here.”

Jesse furrowed his eyebrows but did as he was told.

Sure enough, Gideon came back after a short while with a box in his hand. He placed it on the bathroom countertop and pulled out a strange looking stick of some sort.

“This is a razor.” Gideon explained. 

…

“There you go,” Gideon said and Jesse ran the razor down his cheek.

He was a quick learner. Gideon only had to explain how to shave once, and it was enough for Jesse to understand. Save a couple of times where he almost shaved upwards, Jesse shaved flawlessly, not cutting himself once. Well, save the cut with the pocketknife.

Gideon couldn’t believe Jesse had even managed to shave with the dull blade. 

“Make sure to rinse it off a little,” Gideon said.

Jesse did as he was told. “I can’t believe this contraption exists.” He said. “And that I didn’t know about it.”

Gideon would have laughed if it didn’t make him incredibly sad. How could Tatiana not think to teach her son about shaving? She’d seen her brothers do it plenty of times. 

Or perhaps it wasn’t that, if not the fact that she didn’t let them help her in raising Jesse. He watched the slight grin on Jesse's face as he shaved with the razor and wondered what other things he didn’t know how to do because nobody had ever taught him. Gideon was almost sure Jesse didn’t know how to tie a tie.

He knew Jesse felt uneasy around him and Gabriel. It took him back many years ago, when he had first met Sophie. How her breath had quickened those first couple of training sessions when he came too close, or how her eyes were constantly darting between himself and Gabriel. It broke his heart then and it broke his heart now when he saw Jesse act similarly, replacing fear with uncertainty. 

“Now do I just wash it off, Uncle Gideon?” 

Gideon looked up. “Yes, that should be it. That was an extremely good first attempt, Jess.”

Jesse looked surprised at the nickname. Gideon hadn't intended on calling him that, it had just slipped out of him. Before he could feel regret however, he saw that Jesse was looking at him with wonder and a slight smile playing on the corners of his lips. 

Gideon smiled back. 

Sophie and Cecily would comment on the fact that most of the Lightwood men shared what they called the Lightwood smile; Gideon, Gabriel and Thomas all shared the same smile: a slight upturn of the corners of their lips, almost imperceptible if one wasn’t familiar with it. It was subtle.

Gideon had never seen it until he saw Jesse smile and it reminded him of Gabriel, years ago, when they were still boys. At the same time, he thought of Thomas, because that was his son’s smile as well.

Gideon had never felt more connected to Jesse than he had at that moment. He was grateful he was finally able to have a meaningful relationship with his nephew and hoped that he could teach him the things his father never could.

...

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[tommyspeakycap]

I love your work! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something about (toddler) baby Shelby having Alfie help her bake a cake for Tommy

omggggg that’s so so cute!!

A Bakers Help

The burly Camden Town ‘baker’ was nothing short of completely shocked when he heard a soft banging on his office door in the mid afternoon. His eyebrows had furrowed and he had kept his hand readily on his weapon so he was prepared in the event of an enemy being on the other side of the door. He was surprised to say the least when he tugged open the door and had to look down multiple inches to spot she who knocked on the door.

There stood a little girl. One he knew fairly well but who’s appearance outside his office was still a shock. That little girl was notorious around most of England, especially in heavily gang populated territories where the “Shelby” was a household name and everybody who knew that name knew the littlest member of the family was something akin to a jewel in Tommy Shelby’s crown. Alfie had been curious as to whether or not she was actually attached to Thomas Shelby’s hip in consideration to how much time she spent right by his side, teetering along on little legs so he knew she was safe right by his side. It wasn’t often that Tommy entrusted others to watch over his youngest sister, so it would be safe to say that Alfie was incredibly confused.

“Good morning.” The little girl greets, her lips plastered with a bright smile as she lifts a hand to wave at him. Alfie braces himself on either side of his doorway with strong hands so as to lean out of his office to look out into the ‘bakery’ to both the left and right before stepping back in. “Mhm yes it was actually. Where’s your brothers?” He asks, turning his eyes back to the girl in the doorway who fights to pull her wool coat back up from falling off her arms due to the fact it hadn’t been buttoned up. The girl shrugs, “Dunno...Can I come in?” She asks politely, “It’s very cold.”

Alfie Solomons squints his eyes and forms a crease between his brows, but even he can’t deny the chill in the winter breeze through the unheated factory and the shivering of the child, and so he steps to the side and gestures her in the door. Alfie hums, or maybe something more akin to a grumble, in thought as the five year old wanders around his office to take in the whole surroundings. “And where are your pikey brothers then yeah?” His voice rumbles deep and gravelly the same way it always does, not missing the chance or thinking twice about dropping an insult to the Shelby men as he speaks. The youngest of the clan shrugs her little shoulders. “Dunno,” she says again, “I’m with Ada. Told her i was going out to play.”

The words most definitely do worry Alfie Solomons after the girl with Tommy Shelby’s striking blue eyes and his heart in the palm of her tiny hand finishes speaking flippantly. It occurs to him that she’s simply too young to understand both risk and consequence. She knows that Tommy Shelby dotes on her like the little princess he believes her to be. She knows he loves her, he tells her every day. However, Alfie knows the far darker side to that love. He’s heard of people brutally murdered with remains unidentifiable after coming close to her, and although Alfie has no desire to harm a child who probably doesn’t even understand what it is the rest of her family do when she’s not around, that doesn’t reassure him even in the slightest that Tommy, Arthur, Ada and John Shelby along with Polly Gray wouldn’t rip him to shreds if they knew their little princess was stood in his office for whatever reason.

“Right,” Alfie states, “Better get you home then,” He strides easily towards the door to hold it open, but the little girl simply quirks one eyebrow and remains where she stands. “It’s Tommy’s birthday soon.” She declares, looking up at the hardened London gangster as if he poses no threat nor fear to her in the slightest bit. She smiles at him, big and bright. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know if he was violent, didn’t know if he was supposed to be scary. She just knew she had met him before, he was relatively funny as the 5 year old obviously did not pick up on the thinly veiled threats hiding beneath the verbal back and forth between her favourite brother and the man she stood with now, and more importantly than anything; she knew he was a ‘baker’. “You need a cake on your birthday, you know.” She adds very matter of factly, and Alfie Solomons doesn’t fight the little grin he gives. “And you’re a baker, so you can make good cakes. I need you to help me make Tommy’s cake for birthday cake time on Saturday.”

There’s virtually no way this little girl had just come up with this by herself. The way she acts, her generosity, her sweetness and her absolute insistence of cake for her brothers birthday was not something she had adapted by herself. Children don’t just come up with these things. That thought, for Alfie, means that those who have raised her have drilled a certain kindness into her. Thomas Shelby has raised his little sister to be the kind of kid who will find a man she thinks is a baker just because her brother told her he was, so that he can help her make a cake. That makes Alfie want to laugh. Tommy Shelby acts the part, but Solomons now knows he’s the type who taught a little girl about the importance of cake and birthday fun.

“Fine.” Alfie responds, out stretching his arm to gesture the little girl out into the factory. He did actually have a designated area for the ‘bakery’ just in the event that someone came looking or investigating and he needed to show there was actually a bakery there. He was thankful for that now, because he got the feeling that there was little to no chance he would have gotten away from the very very persistent little Shelby trailing behind him. It becomes apparent very quickly that little (y/n) will have no luck when it comes to seeing what was going on up on the counter, considering she wasn’t even nearly the same height as it, never mind tall enough see over it. Alfie has to get creative in that respect, eyes flicking around until they lands on a a stack of crates that he grabs a couple of to pile them next to the counter so that the youngest Shelby can contribute as she pleased to the cake making.

All things considered, Alfie was actually a fairly good baker. He didn’t come up with the idea of a bakery to cover his illegal business work for no reason. He knew he could bake if it was necessary (which it sometimes was to smuggle alcohol), so this ask from the little girl who had a list of ingredients and an exact image of how she wanted this cake to look, wasn’t a huge task for him.

In the process of the bake, Alfie learned a lot. He learned that little Shelby couldn’t quite pronounce her L’s (which Tommy was apparently working on with her), so she called him Afie. He learned that Tommy’s favourite cake was vanilla sponge, which was why it was a four tier vanilla sponge with extra strawberry jam that his sweet little sister had chosen. He learned that the little girl got here by very discretely tripping up her cousin, Karl, so that Ada was preoccupied giving him a plaster for his knee and stopping his tears and (y/n) snuck off from Ada’s London home in the direction she felt like she remembered Tommy going when he had taken her to Alfie’s bakery once, albeit leaving her in the car with Arthur and John. She had to ask for directions from confused strangers a few times, but ultimately she found the place on her own. Alfie learned that little Shelby talks a lot. She’s very clever, can follow instructions a lot better than most children of a similar age. It had become increasingly clear she didn’t see any problem with talking about the fun things she did with her brothers. The way Arthur and John like to throw her about to hear her giggles, how Tommy tucks her in every single night that he can. How he tickles her, how he still carries her around even though her aunt Polly protests it. How good her aunt Polly’s cooking is. How much she loves her family. She sees no problem with divulging these soft family moments, although Tommy would probably be absolutely appalled that people knew these things about him and his brothers. It made the head of the Peaky Blinders seem so incredibly mundane.

Alfie could see now why that sweet girl was so loved and held so dear by the family. He also had to wonder if she truly was one of them. She was funny and bright, she giggled with him and babbled on about sorts of rubbish. Alas, she was bossy as Thomas himself. She was loud like Arthur, sarcastic as John, self assured as Polly, as independent as Finn and opinionated as Ada. She made sure to tell Alfie exactly how to stack the first layer while she mixed ingredients for the next layer and he was kept on a very short leash, reminded every so often that he was not to dip his fingers in any of the mixtures and leaning over as he worked to tell him Tommy liked more jam than what Alfie had put on.

���Wait!” She yelps out, leaping off the makeshift kitchen stool made from those bottle crates to chase after Alfie until she reaches the man who was carrying the cake towards a box. “Finishing touches,” she insists, ever so slightly dusting the cake with powdered icing sugar to give a final decorational appearance. Alfie smiles subconsciously as the small girl stands back with a proud grin, turning her eyes to man holding the cake, “Thank you Afie,” she beams, her cute little way of saying his name never lost on him as his heart flutters. “Welcome, baby Shelby.” He responds as he slips it into the cake box he’d ordered one of his men to go and get without question.

Alfie was certain he would step outside his bakery and London would be burning. He expected to have Shelby’s killing people on the streets searching for their baby, their sweet little princess. He assumed (and rightly so) that Ada hadn’t told Tommy that she had absolutely no idea where his most precious little love was for genuine fear of his reaction and so she had mobilised some friends and acquaintances she had made while in London to try finding her little sister. Albeit they were evidently unsuccessful and absolutely no one expected little (y/n) to be baking with Alfie Solomons for her gangster brothers birthday because she just loves him so.

Ada literally burst out the front door frantically when she saw the car headlights pull up outside her house, wrapping herself tightly in her coat as Alfie Solomons lifts her little sister down out of the car. The 5 year old stands innocent as ever next to the man who Tommy never truly knows if he can trust or not as he reaches back into the car to lift out a white cake box with two strong hands. “Better keep a closer eye on this one yeah?” He gestured his head to (y/n) who runs towards Ada and jumps into her open arms to be squeezed incredibly, almost painfully tightly. “Never run off like that again!” She hisses, her concern and anxiety clear behind her words as she speaks into her sisters soft hair, stroking it with her hand for some form of reassurance.

“Sorry Ada,” she hums cutely in response, “We made Tommy a cake though, for his birthday!” Ada let’s go of (y/n) and turns to the little girl. “Go inside and find Aunt Pol, i’ll be in shortly.” She says as she eyes Alfie Solomons with the stoney faced glare he assumes she learned from Polly Gray and her often stoney resolve. “Bye bye Afie!” The 5 year old chimes, scuttling up to him to wrap her arms around his legs for a moment before turning and running off with a wave at the doorstep with Alfie a little bit to stunned by how kind she was to him despite the bad man he was to do much else than wave after her. “You,” Ada snipped, cutting him out of his thoughts and crossing her arms firmly over her chest, “Baked a cake with my little sister?” Her words leak with confusion, eyebrows furrowed with her head tilted in question as she continues to be unable to think of any reason why Alfie Solomons hadn’t turned the little girl away or even used her as a bargaining chip with threats of harm to the child if Tommy didn’t do as Alfie wanted. Instead he baked with her a cake for Thomas and she was returned without a bump, not even a hair on her head harmed. He had returned the little Shelby who was uncharacteristically clumsy for a Shelby without her falling off of anything, burning herself on any ovens or accidentally eating something she was supposed to.

“Yeah.” Alfie responds, shrugging his shoulders at the same time. Ada steps closer to him to try in some way to read what he’s not saying, her heels clicking with each step. “And you want nothing for it?” She presses, her eyes narrowed as he shrugs. “Birthday gift innit yeah?” He grumbles, handing the cake to Ada. “She’s the best of you lot,” he states firmly as he turns his back to climb back into his car, “Keep her that way yeah?”

Ada’s frown turns to a soft smile as she nods, watching as Alfie Solomons pulls his door shut firmly and turns on his ignition.

“Mr Solomons, Oi!” She calls after him, forcing him to roll down his window to hear what she has to say. “Thank you.” She breathes, “For looking after her and bringing her home. And for the cake.” Alfie nods his head in acknowledgment. Ada isn’t sure what else to say. She still feels fairly nauseous at the fact her little sister was missing for virtually the whole day and littered with further nerves at the fact Tommy would be around to pick her up in a half hour and it wasn’t like little Shelby to keep quiet about anything, especially not when it came to Tommy and especially when it came to her adventures that her favourite brother hadn’t been part of, so assuredly she would let him know all about her baking day with Alfie after the cake was revealed tomorrow afternoon for his birthday. Alfie knew this too and he imagined he’d get a visit from the head of the Peaky Blinders relatively soon after he found out.

Tommy would probably be as confused as Ada as to why Alfie looked after little (y/n) the way he did. Alfie couldn’t even really explain it himself, she just warmed up his heart and the sweet little girl showed Alfie truly why Tommy loves that little girl so much. She brings laughter and happiness and fun. She brings light into a very, very dark life and Alfie appreciates that dedication Tommy had to keeping her safe a lot more now. He himself now had a soft spot for the kid and there was a part of him that knew for a fact he too would be making sure no one in his circle was breathing words of harming that little girl who had promised she would bake with him again, and had his birthday written on her hand so she could bake for his birthday.

Maybe the Shelby’s weren’t so bad after all.

[nerdzzone]

Luckless Romance

Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.

Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-

Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.

Please let me know what you think! 

_____

August 2015

Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.

That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.

It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.

I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.

But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.

Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.

I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.

There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.

But it was more than just that.

There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.

Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.

"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"

"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"

Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.

"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."

His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.

"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"

I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.

"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."

Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.

"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."

There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"

My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.

"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"

"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."

It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.

"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."

"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"

"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."

Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.

"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

"As long as she promises to make better choices."

I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."

Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.

Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.

"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."

"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.

"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"

He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.

-

"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"

"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."

"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."

"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.

"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."

"Terrible is harsh!"

My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.

"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."

"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."

Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.

"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."

"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."

We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.

"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"

"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."

Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.

"Beginners luck!"

Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.

However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.

"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"

"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"

"It was clearly on your side!"

"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."

"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."

I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.

"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"

"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."

"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."

"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.

"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"

My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.

-

Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.

My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.

"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."

I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.

I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.

I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.

That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.

"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"

"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"

"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.

"Really? That's not a great area..."

"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."

"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."

"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."

"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.

"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."

Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."

"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."

Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."

I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."

Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.

"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."

"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."

"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"

"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."

"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"

"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."

"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."

"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.

"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."

"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"

"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."

"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."

"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."

I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."

"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."

"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."

Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.

"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"

"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."

They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.

"Really? Could I see them?"

"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."

I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.

"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"

"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."

We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."

I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.

"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."

"I did not!"

"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."

"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."

"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."

I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.

"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."

"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.

"You're just drunk."

"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."

There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.

"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."

Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.

My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.

I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."

"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."

Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.

"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.

"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"

Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."

"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."

"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."

Friends.

Good friends.

His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.

Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.

At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.

I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.

I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.

Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.

As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.

---

July 2016

And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.

I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.

But we kept things very much friendly.

There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.

My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.

I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.

"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"

"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."

"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."

I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.

"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."

"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"

I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.

"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."

"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."

"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."

Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.

"You're impossible."

"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."

"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."

The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."

I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.

It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.

"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."

"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."

"Nah, this place is great!"

"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."

"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"

I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.

"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."

I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.

Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.

"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."

"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."

I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.

"Then we'll stay in?"

"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."

"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."

"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."

I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.

"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."

He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.

"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"

"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."

"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."

"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."

"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."

"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.

"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."

"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."

"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."

"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."

I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.

"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."

"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."

"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."

"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."

Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.

"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."

I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.

"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."

"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."

"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."

"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."

I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.

-

Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.

"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."

Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.

"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."

The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.

"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."

"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."

"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"

"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."

"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."

I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.

"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."

Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.

"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."

"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."

That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.

"What was it about then?"

"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"

Chris shrugged.

"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."

"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"

"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.

"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."

Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.

"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"

I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.

"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."

"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"

I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.

"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."

"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."

I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.

Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.

"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"

He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.

"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"

Demonstrate.

Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.

Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"

Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.

His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.

He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.

It was now or never.

Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.

He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.

I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.

There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.

I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.

It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.

Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.

Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.

As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.

"Are we really doing this?"

I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.

"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."

I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.

In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.

Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.

"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."

His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.

"Alright, that's fair."

I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.

My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.

"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.

"So, you're like, always this strong?"

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."

My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.

"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."

Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.

"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."

With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.

I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.

Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.

"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."

"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."

He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.

I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.

I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.

"Now, it's your turn."

"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."

I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.

"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."

His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.

So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.

"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."

I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.

It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.

Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.

However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.

"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.

I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.

His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.

"Like what you see?"

His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.

"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."

"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."

Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.

I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."

I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.

He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.

As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.

"Well?"

"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."

Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."

Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.

He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.

"Thank you."

I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.

I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.

I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.

"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.

It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."

A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.

"You heard about that?"

He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.

"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."

His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.

My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."

His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.

The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.

After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.

I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.

-

The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.

I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.

Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.

After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.

By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.

One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.

But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.

-

Part Two

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces

[fantastic-rambles]

Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity

Characters: Kyan Reki, Shindo Ainosuke, Kikuchi Tadashi, Kyan Koyomi, Kyan Chihiro, Kyan Nanaka, Shindo Ainosuke’s aunts

Warnings: Minor character death (Kyan Masae), funeral, car accident, drunk driving, adoption, family drama (Adam’s aunts are involved, of course there is)

Word Count: 2k

Summary: When Reki’s mother dies in an accident, he and his sisters are adopted by the Shindo family in order to give them a reputation for supporting humanitarian/charitable causes. However, since Ainosuke’s aunts cannot stand the children, they are relegated to the servants’ quarters, where Tadashi is assigned to help take care of them when he’s not attending to Ainosuke. While he struggles to take care of his siblings, Reki finds himself growing closer to the quiet, enigmatic man who serves the popular politician.

Chapter 1: In which the Kyans bid farewell to their mother and start a new life with the Shindos. [Written for TadaRekiWeek2021 | Day 1: Family]

Reki felt numb. It had already been a week, but he still couldn't believe that this was real. Koyomi clung to him, sobbing, while Nanaka and Chihiro wailed in the arms of two women he'd only just met. They handled the twins awkwardly, as if they'd never held children before, and their efforts to soothe them were largely fruitless.

"Mom! Mom!" Koyomi cried desperately, her tears soaking into the front of Reki's new suit. The tie was also too tight, but he couldn't find the strength to reach up and loosen it as he stared at the memorial photo of his mother. She was smiling at them, oblivious to their misery, and looking far more at peace than she did in the casket, her body mangled almost beyond recognition.

A drunk driver. A freak accident. They'd been orphaned by nothing less than sheer bad luck, and Reki had no idea what was going to happen to them now.

And he glanced sideways at a somber, older man whose head was bowed as they faced the altar. Shindo Ainosuke. He hadn't known anything about the man until he came into their lives, swooping in like some sort of hero to adopt the unfortunate children who were just as equally victims of the drunk driver. After they'd met a few days ago, though, Reiki had looked their savior up online, discovering that he was a member of the National Diet, elected to represent Okinawa. Even though Shindo was young, his political career seemed promising, having been active in writing and pushing through several bills on environmental issues. He was popular and handsome, and he seemed to be generally taken seriously even with a mostly female fan club that quickly caused tickets for any of his fundraising events to be sold out quickly.

Though Reki could understand why. He'd watched a couple interviews that had been uploaded online, and his new father--who wasn't even a decade older than him--seemed to be naturally charming as he demonstrated a breadth of knowledge and a sense of humor while explaining policies in a way that even he could understand. And more than that, Shindo's words could stir up his indignation or appease it. He was incredibly persuasive, but in a way that at least appeared to be entirely genuine.

What he couldn't understand, though, was why the man had decided to adopt all of them.

Shindo had been strangely tight-lipped on the matter, asking for the public to respect their privacy and grief, which was considerate of him, but the web was on fire with rumors. Of course, some of them were patently ridiculous, such as the one that had said the man had been having an affair with Reki’s mother, and others that claimed the twins were actually his children, even though they looked nothing alike and were clearly Reki and Koyomi’s siblings. But then there were others, the ones that said he was doing it for political clout, so that he could trot out the orphans and profit off their tragedy. Those ones seemed much more likely, even though the man had invested plenty of resources in keeping the media away: putting them up in a hotel when the paparazzi began to stake out their house, renting a private car service to drive them around, and and generally catering to their every need. In the appearances on TV that Reki had seen, Shindo always declined to discuss the siblings, deflecting the conversation to other topics and appearing appropriately somber.

But that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t deriving some sort of benefit from it. Even though Shindo didn’t discuss it, other programs did, some praising his generosity and humanitarian ideals while others took a more critical view of his decision to do so. So Reki didn’t know what to think. But he was sure that he’d figure it out eventually, since he was going to be living with the man.

When the funeral finally ended, Reki let Shindo lead them out to the car, a comforting hand laying on his shoulder. Koyomi’s cries had subsided to soft sobbing as she clung to her brother, and the man’s other hand rested on her head. He let them climb into the backseat first, with Koyomi half-falling over Reki, before taking a seat as well and accepting Nanaka and Chihiro from the women holding them. The twins had fallen asleep, exhausted from their wailing, and they stirred a little during the transfer, but the man gently rocked them until they were still again.

“Get the curtains, will you, Reki-kun?” he asked, his voice soft so as not to disturb any of the girls, and Reki nodded dully, reaching up to tug the curtain over his window while Shindo did the same on his side. And then Shindo leaned forward to speak to the driver.

“Bring us home, Tadashi.”

The other man nodded, and the car purred to life, pulling out of the temple and easing past the crowd of reporters outside until they reached the clear road. But Reki wasn’t looking at the passing scenery, just staring down at Koyomi sniffling in his lap as he patted her head mechanically. Home. It wouldn’t be the house that he’d grown up in for seventeen years, or the hotel that he’d lived in for the last few days. It would be somewhere new, somewhere he didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it.

Father. Dad. Papa. He glanced at the man sitting next to him with the twins settled on his lap. What did he call him? And as if he felt Reki’s glance, Shindo looked over at him, raising his eyebrows slightly.

“Can I do something for you?”

"Uh. No, it's fine," Reki mumbled, looking away again. He was sure that Shindo was still staring at him, but he didn't look back, staring at the dark curtain until the sound of the engine shutting off announced their arrival. But Shindo didn't move to open the door: instead, the driver--Tadashi--stepped out and opened it for his employer.

"Take one of the girls?" Shindo asked quietly, and Tadashi obeyed, bending over to gather Chihiro into his arms while Shindo got out with Nanaka. Reki had to wake up Koyomi so she could stumble out of the car ahead of him, and the two of them stared up at the enormous mansion that towered above them. This was where they were going to live from now on?

Another car pulled up beside them, disgorging another chauffeur who opened the door for three women. Two of them had been the ones who hadn't known how to handle the twins, and the third looked similar enough that they all had to be related: sisters, perhaps? Originally, Reki had thought they were other members of Shindo's staff, maybe part of his political entourage or something. But seeing them here, emitting a sense of confidence that bordered on arrogance, made his heart sink. There was something about them that he just didn't like, though he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Ainosuke. We've discussed this issue together, and we are in accord. You will keep the children in the servants' wing," one of the women declared. "They are simply too ill-mannered to be allowed in the main house as we had originally planned. We've never seen such awful behavior before in our lives. If they can learn to act like civilized people, then we can revisit this issue."

Reki's eyebrows snapped together at the insult to his family, and he took a step forward, only to be stopped by Shindo shifting his weight slightly to get in his way, a move that the man seemed to disguise by adjusting the girl in his arms.

"My dear aunts"--they were his aunts?--"please consider their circumstances. They are all still children, and they have all just lost the only parental figure that they know. If they are to become part of our family, then they must of course reside in the main house. We've already prepared rooms for them."

"Don't talk back to us, Ainosuke," the woman retorted. "We were against this from the beginning, but you insisted. We have already compromised this much for you, so you can do this for us. I'm sure that Kikuchi can find somewhere to get them settled. Handle it."

Then she turned on her heel, heading toward the entrance, and Shindo sighed, glancing over his shoulder at Reki with an apologetic expression.

"It's fine. I'd rather not live with her," Reki interjected before the man could say anything. "Just tell us where we're supposed to go."

Shindo seemed to hesitate, but then he nodded, glancing at Tadashi, who also nodded before starting to walk around the side of the house. There was an entrance there, and Tadashi shifted the girl in his arms to pull out a set of keys to unlock it and push the door open. Shindo let Reki and Koyomi follow the man inside before taking up the rear, and they walked in silence until Tadashi turned off the hallway into a room.

It was sparsely decorated, with a bed in the corner, a dresser with a mirror, and a wardrobe. Another door was slightly ajar, leading to what Reki assumed was a bathroom, and Tadashi carefully lay the girl in his arms onto the bare bed.

"This will be your bedroom, Reki-san. Please excuse our lack of preparedness; I will see to it that it is properly furnished and decorated by the end of the day. If there is anything else that you require, please inform me, and I will endeavor to fulfill your request, so long as it is reasonable. For larger requests, I may need to discuss it with Ainosuke first to receive his approval. Koyomi-san, you and your sisters will share the next room, and the same offer is extended to you. We have already hired additional staff to help take care of Nanaka-san and Chihiro-san so that the burden does not fall upon the two of you. Do you have any questions?"

Tadashi's formality, in addition to Shindo's aunt's statements, made Reki shake his head, feeling intimidated and out of place. But he caught Tadashi's glance at Shindo before Tadashi nodded slightly.

"Then I will go take care of that now. Please excuse me."

The man left, and Shindo stepped forward to lay Nanaka down next to Chihiro before crouching down to look at the other two.

"I'm sorry. This probably isn't the best first impression," the man apologized, grimacing slightly. "But I do want you to know that I really do want to be here for you. I'm too young to be a father to the two of you, so if you would like to treat me as an older brother, I'd like that. If you have any problems, if you need any help... just let me know, okay? Don't be shy, please. I am fairly busy with my work, but I'll always try to make time for you if you need it; for the times that I really can't, you can talk to Tadashi. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Reki mumbled, a sentiment echoed by Koyomi, and Shindo smiled, a little sadly, as he reached out to place a hand on each of their shoulders.

"I truly am sorry for what you went through. I wish that this wasn't necessary. And I'm sure that you've already realized this, but... it's probably best if you stay away from my aunts."

Reki and Koyomi both nodded, and Shindo squeezed their shoulders reassuringly before he straightened up.

"Then I'll give you some time to settle in. If you need anything and you can't find me or Tadashi, just ask any of the other servants and they'll let us know."

Reki watched Shindo leave, passing by Tadashi as he came in with his arms full of linens. He still felt out of it, but he helped the man make the bed before they moved on to the girls' room to prepare that one as well.

[everywhereallofthetime]

Some Girl ... Part 3

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: None.

// * // * //

Mason smoothed Sebastian’s thick, silky hair and then offered his hand to Shawn. Shawn reached out to shake it, completely caught off guard by what Charlotte had said, although trying not to show it.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Mason said with a cautious smile.

Shawn only nodded his head in response.

“He’s a little nervous about meeting everyone, so why don’t you give us a few minutes.”

“Of course. I’ll bring Bash in,” he said, taking the stroller from her hands. “Take your time.”

Shawn reddened more and more with every step Mason took toward the house. The moment he shut the door behind them, Shawn turned on Charlotte, understandably upset.

Before he could even open his mouth, Charlotte held up her hands in a placating manner. “I swear, I had no idea I was going to say that, and I’m sorry. I wouldn’t blame you for storming off right here, right now, but please, just hear me out.”

He didn’t respond, but he also didn’t walk away, so she continued. “You’re going through some shit right now, right?” she said, rhetorically. “Just come in and forget about everything for a few hours. You can snuggle Bash, have a few drinks, eat some fantastic food, - better than you can find in any restaurant, I swear, - play some cards, watch the game, or swim.”

She could see him defuse right before her as she talked.

“We have a pool table, air hockey, and darts, too.”

There was still a tinge of panic in his voice, when he said, “What if they know who I am?!” Wait. Was he honestly considering this? He had wanted more time with Charlotte and Sebastian.

“I would be surprised if they did. Valerie and the twins definitely would have, but they’re not going to be here tonight. Try to avoid playing the guitar or singing, just in case,” she smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I haven’t picked up my guitar or have had any reason to sing for a while.”

Her heart plummeted. “Shit. I’m sorry, Shawn,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive.” All she wanted to do was hug him.

So, she did.

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he returned the embrace. She felt and heard him sigh deeply in her arms.

When she ultimately eased away from him, he met her eyes and asked quietly, “What was that for?”

“It looked like you needed it.”

He had. He really had. He didn’t know just how much he had needed it before it happened. He was again surprised at how well she seemed to read him.

“I really should have thought before putting you in this situation. I’d still like you to consider it, as off the wall an idea as it is. I could introduce you with a different name. And if anyone grows suspicious and says to me, ‘he looks like Shawn Mendes’, I’ll just say, ‘I know, eh? Why do you think I let him into my bed?’”

He laughed then. It was a beautiful sound.

“You don’t really look like the Shawn the public is used to anyway.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” she reassured him. “You’re usually a little more...polished. Clean-shaven, perfectly coifed hair, except for maybe that one stray curl that drives all the girls wild,” she teased. “Personally, I find the darker, slightly longer hair and the stubble terribly sexy.” That earned her a little smirk.

Charlotte’s eyes met Shawn’s with as much warmth and hope as possible. “Things will get better, Shawn. It may not feel like it right now, but it will. I promise.”

She reached out to tenderly cup his cheek. “Having your heart completely destroyed fucking sucks, but it will heal, and things will get better.”

Shawn had gone through a myriad of emotions and feelings in the past hour. From apprehension to delight. An unburdening and acceptance. A spark of anger. Surprise, sadness, comfort. A moment of joy, a moment of indignation. And altogether more compassion than he’d gotten from anyone outside of his family and friends.

He hadn’t felt much of anything except devastation and anxiety since he and Camila had split. To feel so much more, so many positive emotions, within such a short amount of time, was invigorating. He stood straighter; his heart felt lighter.

“So, what do you say?”

He licked his lips and bit softly on the bottom one.

“Nobody is going to expect anything of you. They’ll just want to get to know you. I never talk about Booker, - I don’t believe I’ve ever even said his name to them, - so you can say whatever or be whoever you want.”

“They’re going to hate me for not being around for Bash.”

“If it even comes up, tell them you didn’t know until recently, right now even. We ran into each other at the liquor store and, ‘hey, remember me? Surprise, you’re a dad’.

“My family is amazing, I promise. And they’re all starting to gather in the doorway and at the windows,” she laughed. “We should probably head in, if we’re going to.”

He looked toward the house and took a deep breath.

“This might help to get you out of your head.” Before he even comprehended what was happening, her hand was at the nape of his neck and her mouth was against his; a quick, startling press of her lips. Just as his shock melted into response she was pulling away.

“I kinda wanna do that again,” he whispered. It was Charlotte’s turn to be surprised when suddenly he was kissing her back, open-mouthed, and soft-lipped.

Shawn hadn’t felt any sort of spark with anyone since his heart had broken. It felt good, exceptionally good, to kiss and be kissed again.

Their eyes met and they both smiled.

“Come on,” she said. She slipped her hand into his and led him up the front walk.

// * // * //

Stepping through the front door Charlotte called out, “Everyone, this is Peter.” She already expected that Mason would have told them all that he was Sebastian’s dad. “Peter, meet...everyone.”

She met the eyes of her family members, one by one. All eleven of them had gathered in a relatively small area. “I told him you were amazing; don’t prove me wrong. Be nice. He’s actually a really great guy. Now go. We’ll make the rounds. Don’t overwhelm him.”

Most everyone scattered throughout the house, a few spilled into the backyard. Elisa, with Sebastian, Jack, and Mason were the only ones who still stood before them.

“You met Mason outside. He’s my cousin, but he's more like an annoying little brother,” she smirked. He gave her upper arm a gentle shove.

Charlotte introduced Jack next. “This is my uncle Jack.”

“There won’t be a test, don’t worry,” Jack smirked, shaking Shawn’s hand.

“He’s the closest thing I have to a dad, so he may grill you a little.” She looked pointedly at her uncle. “Go easy on him, Jack...

“And holding Bash, of course, - she has trouble sharing him, - is Elisa, my aunt, my second mother.” Elisa smiled and her eyes sparkled. “Yes, he is insanely attractive, but your husband is standing right beside you, so behave.”

They all laughed at that. Shawn blushed, which only made him more appealing, and his heart had flipped a little when Charlotte had said he was ‘insanely attractive’. Okay, so there was a spark on her end too, apparently.

But he wasn’t ready for a new relationship, he reminded himself.

Surprising everyone, Sebastian reached for Shawn. He almost fell out of Elisa’s arms doing so. Shawn caught him easily. “I’m sorry,” he automatically apologized to Elisa, pulling him close and holding him secure. He instinctively dropped a kiss on top of his little head. Sebastian grasped Shawn’s necklace and started babbling happily.

“No honey, you don’t have to apologize,” she said rather dazed and amazed.

Charlotte looked in awe at her son in Shawn’s arms. She missed the look that passed between Elisa and Jack.

To break the hush that had fallen, Jack asked, “So Peter, how do you like your steak?”

“Medium, medium rare.”

Jack clapped Shawn on the shoulder. “Good man.” He then disappeared into the kitchen, Mason following.

“Charlie will show you around. Make yourself at home,” Elisa smiled softly before heading off to the living room.

Charlotte linked her arm through Shawn’s. “Why don’t I get you a drink before you meet everyone else.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” he chuckled and allowed her to lead him further into the house.

// * // * //

By the time the steaks were ready, Shawn had also met Beth and Lyle, Annie, Will and Diana, Josh, Doug, and Rob.

Annie and Beth were Elisa’s best friends. They had also been the best friends of Charlotte’s mother, Emily. The four of them had been practically inseparable their whole lives. Lyle was Beth’s husband. Will was Charlotte’s uncle, - Elisa and her mother’s older brother, - and Diana was Will’s wife. Josh and Doug were Will and Diana’s sons, and Rob was Doug’s best friend.

“I’ll help you remember,” Charlotte whispered to Shawn.

Shawn had thus far had a beer and a shot of tequila. The drinks had helped him relax, but he was taking it easy. He might let himself get pleasantly buzzed later that night, but he didn’t want to get wrecked in the presence of Charlotte’s family.

He may not have been Sebastian’s dad, but he wanted to make a good impression on the people who thought he was, and who had welcomed him into their home.

// * // * //

Dinner was unbelievable, as Charlotte had promised him it would be, and he was satisfyingly full.

The questions that had been asked of him throughout the evening were unobtrusive and considerably basic in nature. Again, as Charlotte had said, they just wanted the chance to get to know him. And like Charlotte, they were easy to talk to. Conversation was fun; he found himself smiling and laughing more than he had in a while.

He noticed Charlotte watching him, and when he smiled or laughed there was a look of pure happiness in her eyes. It made his heart flutter.

// * // * //

Part 4

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG 15 Imposter Syndrome Part 12

Here's day 5! Tagging: @sparkles-and-hens, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @maple-writes (also thanks for Volt!), @pen-of-roses, @thoughts-of-nora, and @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Hugo!)!

The next night, it was time for Atwater, no, Hugo to have his tracker taken out. We were friends now, so I should probably actually call him by his first name. I walked over to him with a smile. Volt was sitting off to the side watching out into the forest. “So, about when I said I wouldn’t bother you, there is one thing…”

“I’m shocked,” he said as he kept a completely straight face and didn’t change his inflection at all. “What?”

“Would you like to get rid of that tracker? Then the Capitol would think you’re dead! I could get it out!”

He smiled. “Ah. So in this case, ‘bother you’ has the meaning of ‘jab something pointy into your arm where lots of major arteries are.’ Have I mentioned I have this quaint hobby where I collect heartbeats? I’d like to keep doing that, thanks. I had another way of getting rid of the trackers.”

Had? I tried to match his humor and eyed his pockets. “How many hearts do you have in those pockets, then?” My smile slipped away. “I’ve successfully extracted three trackers, one of which I did without a prior wound on the tracker arm! As you have seen, all three of the tributes are still alive. I promise I won’t do anything stupid!”

Volt sighed. “I think that ship has sailed.” Rude. She turned to Hugo. “Though she’s right this time. It’s probably for the best to get that out.”

He cringed and ground his teeth, but he eventually hung his head and held out his right arm for me. “Keep in mind, I got a nasty left hook, so don’t try anything,” he muttered, flexing his left hand’s fingers. “…Please.” Quieter.

Noted. I just needed to get out my handy knife and…Wait. I didn’t have it. Again. Well, shit. I guess I’d have to reveal my magic then. Good thing there weren’t any cameras around here. I pulled out my flask of emergency water with a grimace and took a shuddering breath. “So, just to warn you, I have this magic where I can crystallize liquids around me. I’m going to crystallize this water to cut out the tracker. It’s very sharp and strong, so it will make a clean cut.” I paused, bracing for his response.

“…Magic. Oh. We, uh, didn’t ever get fancy stuff like that in District 11. I guess I’ll believe it when I see it. As long as it’s clean water…” He grabbed his water bottle and held it out to me. “Do you want to use this instead? Or do you need…special water?” He sounded suspicious. Brilliant.

I shook my head. “I can use whichever water you’d rather me use.” I pocketed the flask and took the bottle instead. I took a deep breath and activated my magic, which meant I started to glow. I waved my hand, and the water in the bottle rose up and crystallized into a sharp knife. I grabbed the knife and deactivated my magic. “I’ll be quick.”

I was keenly aware of their stares as I cut out the tracker, bandaged the wound from the remains of my tattered sleeves, and pulled an ice flower from my pockets (it somehow didn’t melt) and put it on top of the bandage to help the wound feel a little better. I laughed nervously as I started shaking. “Scorpio suggested something to numb the pain for the next time I took out a tracker.”

“Considerate.” Hugo’s voice wavered a little. The cannon went off, and his eyebrows went up. “Oh. So…okay. Thanks.” A smile played on his lips, but it went away quickly.

Volt shifted to lean against a rock instead. “Glad that worked.”

I…I actually showed someone my magic. I had actually confessed that I had magic. What was wrong with me? Shit. I nodded. “No problem. Don’t mention it.” Now, my voiced wavered.

“…So, is that, like, a technical implant, or—how’s that work?” Hugo asked, but then he shifted away. “Ah. Never mind. ‘Don’t mention it.’ Got it. Forget I asked.”

Well, I had already given away a big secret. Might as well continue. I nodded, but I couldn’t look at either of them. “It’s fine. No, I was born with it. My mother had the magic, and I wasn’t supposed to be born, but she hid me. But then the Capitol found out, and they had me disposed of, but that didn’t work, as you can tell.” I could barely stop myself from talking.

“Bastards,” Volt mumbled. “Good thing they failed.”

Okay. Okay. Subject change. I laughed nervously. “Thanks. But, enough about me. Is the ice working?” I glanced over at Hugo before looking away again.

“Uh…I guess…I mean, I think it should probably get stitched, but there’s not an ambulance of surgeons in here, and you managed it with a pretty small cut, so I think it’s fine.” He was rambling too.

“Try not to get it infected.” Volt nodded towards him. “Try to keep it out of anything dirty until it scabs over.”

If I let myself speak, I’d probably tell them my whole life story, so I just nodded. Hugo seemed to have a better grip on the situation. “Alright.” He paused and smiled, holding his arm away from himself. “I’ll just keep it away from my damn mouth, then, eh?”

It was just getting colder, and I wanted to keep the subject away from my magic right now. I sighed and rubbed my arms. “You better be grateful for the sleeves I shredded for you. I’m going to freeze now.”

Hugo started to say something a few times but couldn’t get it out until he managed: “Thank you, sleeves.”

“It’s late.” Volt stood up and gathered some blankets to get us to go to sleep.

I grumbled. I wasn’t even tired. “Okay, mom.” In a lighthearted tone, of course.

 “Do we gotta set up a watch rotation? I saw they did that in other Games.” Hugo paused. “They, uh, usually didn’t end well, but…”

I nodded. “Sure. I can take first watch, if you’d like.”

“Good plan.” Volt cleared her area and settled down. “Seems like it’s gearing up to be a cold night, though, you might not want to wander off too far.”

Wow. Aunt Reeves had never been so worried. I laughed and sat down on the sturdy rock Volt had vacated. “Sure thing, mom.” I winked, if she could see me.

She sighed and mumbled to herself. “I’m no mother.” While Hugo laid down in the most uncomfortable position imaginable.

I laughed. “Well, what a coincidence, I had no mother. So, I can think of you as a mother if I want.”

Volt looked over at me and opened her mouth to say something but decided not to. She stared back upwards. “If you insist, I guess I can’t stop you.”

I leaned forward. I needed to keep my mind off some things, and I had some questions. “I know this is completely opposite of helping you fall asleep, but I am curious. Why don’t you see yourself as a mother? You did adopt that boy, didn’t you? Wasn’t his name Skyler?”

“If we get out of here, you’re going to have to hook me up with your informant.” She groaned. “But it’s complicated. Umbra Ursi hadn’t counted on me double checking the cargo and I couldn’t just ignore him when I did.”

I smirked. She hadn’t answered my first question. Sneaky. “But you’re basically a mother to him, I’d think. So why do you want to insist you’re not? Anyway, you’ve got all the concerned mother phrases down!” Hugo turned to his side so his back was facing us.

She huffed, putting her hands behind her head. “It’s not my fault the both of you keep running around like little kids. It’s a miracle you’re both still alive.”

“I don’t believe in miracles. If I’m still alive, it’s my own damn fault,” Hugo muttered.

She glanced over at him. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Some’d say so.”

She still hadn’t answered my question, but I wasn’t going to nag. I turned to Hugo. “And some wouldn’t say so. Like us.” I stuck my tongue out at him, even though he probably couldn’t see it.

“You sure say a lot for someone who’s supposed to be sleeping.” He didn’t sound like he believed a word of what I said.

“Hey, I’m supposed to be keeping watch, so I’m actually supposed to be staying awake.”

“……………….Oh. Right. Well. Don’t let me distract you.”

I shook my head. “Also, we’ll need to work on your trust issues and low self esteem once this is all over,” I mumbled.

There was silence before Volt took a deep breath. “For what it’s worth, I went into this resigned to having to kill you both. Seems that didn’t quite work out.”

Hugo sat up. “Wait, really?” He laid back down quickly, though. “Never mind. Not surprised.”

Me neither. I smiled. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m thankful it didn’t work out.”

“I don’t know why I thought it would,” she mumbled. “Seems I still can’t convince myself to be cold enough.”

I decided to channel Hugo. “What, you’re not cold enough now?” As I rubbed my arms to make them warmer. Damn Shine not being able to make the coat collapsible too.

…And I shouldn’t have thought of them. Worries about my crew pushed to the surface. What was going on? Had they really all been captured? What was Churi doing to them? What could I have done to stop that? What should I have done?

Hugo’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. “Hey, Volt. Thanks for not killing us. Or pushing me off that chariot. I thought you were gonna. I don’t know why…It’s just…the world sucks. And you gotta…I just have to stand there and wait for it to kick my legs out from under me. Again and again. I don’t…but…You’re okay. Even you, hat lady.” I was flattered by the nickname. “You kick the world. Not my knees. Maybe I’m wrong. But you guys’re alright.”

Shit. I was going to start crying. Should they really think that of me when I’d screwed up so much? I gave a wobbly smile. “Well, you two were the first ones I met here, and I’m glad I did. You’ve just gone along with my shenanigans, and I’m so grateful. Thank you for believing in me.” Even if all your belief is misplaced.

Volt raised her eyebrows at him. “Push you? I was scared you were going to fall off almost the entire time.” She yawned and pointed at me. “And your technique needs work, but you do have talent. You both do.”

Shit, shit, shit. I stared out into the darkness, since I was supposed to be keeping watch anyway. “‘Needs work’? More like it doesn’t exist at all. I…I’m not nearly as good as you seem to think.”

Hugo buried his head in his arms. “Define ‘good’,” he muttered. “Bar’s too damn high. Seems like you’re trying…in the…right direction. Can’t that be enough? Better than me, anyway. I gave up trying a long time ago. I was just gonna get myself out. You at least thought of literally anyone else.”

“But none of that matters if I can’t follow through on my promises. Luckily, Reine will be able to get everyone out because my crew—” Shit, I was crying. “I’ve lost contact with my crew, and they’ve probably gotten captured, and they’re being hurt because I was foolish enough to try this plan, and if it wasn’t for Reine, everyone would have died because I’m not smart enough to do it right.” My voice cracked, and I started sobbing. I had let them down.

Volt sat up and waved me over, which I could barely see through the blur of tears. “Come here, Triel.” I hesitated, but complied, leaning up against her as tears continued to fall. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and it was just some comforting. It felt like home. “You did your best. If your crew is anything like mine they wouldn’t fault you for it. They’re probably worried about you too.”

I took a shaky breath. I just felt so responsible for everything that had gone wrong. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault if something happens.”

“We were going to die anyway.” Volt shrugged and glanced at Hugo. “And what are you talking about giving up long ago?”

“Wait, wait, go back to that hasty generalization of ‘something’,” he said instead. “I’m no expert, but that doesn’t sound healthy.”

I frowned as my own thoughts chased away. “Something…goes wrong? I guess?”

Volt still watched Hugo. “You should give yourself more credit, Hugo, that’s all.”

“Oh, for what? Snooping around while everyone else is doing the real work trying to change the fuckedupedness of all this?” he snapped, then he curled up a little more. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell. Just tired. I’m gonna get us overheard…just wanted to join the pity party, I guess.” He sighed and said woodenly, “I will take what you said into consideration. They should really use more emotionally stable people than teenagers for this.”

Well, dang. He was awesome, and he still was so hard on himself? “We really have to work on your low self esteem,” I mumbled. 

“Better than nothing.” Volt shifted, opening her other arm if Hugo wanted to take it.

“Ditto, asshole.” That was certainly directed toward me. Affectionately, though. Ha. He hesitated but shuffled closer to Volt, but he didn’t hug like I had. Yeah, he didn’t like hugs. Good to know. “We can all go to group therapy once this’s over.”

I settled into Volt's arm a little more. She was just such a comforting presence. After a little while of quiet, she whispered, "I got married after the Reaping. It might have been our only chance, and I might never see them again." 

Hugo didn't say anything, but I sniffled. Great more tears. "That's so sweet," I whispered back. You didn't even let the damn Games stop you. You must love them so much."

  She nodded, gently fiddling with the watch around her wrist. "I do. We've been apart before for months and months but it was different. We both knew I would be alright and I'd be able to come back and see them eventually but not this time. This time it was goodbye." Her breath caught. "I can't imagine what this is like for them."

I just hugged her tighter as Hugo spoke. "...I'm sorry."

"They'll be alright." She sighed. "Eventually. They're tougher than they think. It's the others I'm worried about." She paused. "Rick's clever and the most reliable partner I could hope for but he's not a decision maker and I don't know how he's going to do on his own and Skyler's still so young and he doesn't handle his feelings very well and I…" She leaned forward and pressed her hand to her forehead, propped on a bent knee. "I don't know what they're going to do now that I'm gone."

 "Hopefully, you won't have to find out. But…" I paused, trying to find the right words. "I'm sure they'd do fine because you helped them and taught them what you could."

 "Yeah. We're doing our best to get people out of here.  There's got to be at least a chance, right?" 

Look at Hugo, having hope, or at least trying to! Volt leaned back again with a deep breath. "I hope you're right, both of you. She glanced at me. "Are you still awake enough to keep watch or is it my turn?"

I yawned but shook my head. I had stayed up way later than this before. "I can stay awake a few more hours at least." I got up and say back down on the rock from before.

 "Well, wake me when it's my shift, alright?" Hugo said. "G'night." He settled down again.

I just smiled a little as I kept watch. We were good friends now, and I hoped we could stay in touch after the arena

[reyescarlos]

sanctuary || a tarlos fic

chapter 2/3 read on ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carlos laughs at the theatrics. “Like I said, hands down the best in town.”

“I definitely have to come back here soon. Is tomorrow too sudden?” he jokes.

They fall into a comfortable silence as they eat. Every now and then he looks over at Carlos and on some instances, he finds the other man glancing at him too.

“So, what is that you do?” Carlos asks conversationally after a time.

TK licks his lips, pulling in the lower one. It’s a harmless question, in general, but for TK it’s actually a loaded one. When making the move down to Austin, he also made the tough decision not to hop back into work. The time for himself is certainly needed but it makes him anxious thinking about having to explain why he isn’t currently part of the 126.

“I’m a firefighter. Or I was. I’m taking a bit of a break right now,” he finally settles on. It’s a half truth as he hasn’t fully explained but the last thing he wants is to unload all his drama on a man he’s only just met a few days ago.

Carlos considers his words and nods, dipping one of his chips into salsa. TK prepares himself for an onslaught of follow-up questions but they never come. Instead, Carlos gives a response he wasn’t expecting at all.

“I can understand that,” he says, popping the chip into his mouth and making quick work of finishing it off before he speaks again. “What we do isn’t easy. Sometimes you need to take time to recharge before heading back out there again. In order to really help others, we have to be at our best.”

TK can only stare at him. He was so sure Carlos was going to hound him with questions about what prompted the break but instead he opted not to pry at all. TK wasn’t used to that sort of thing. Most people would make it their personal mission to find out the details but not Carlos. Relief soon washes over TK.

“Yeah, definitely. I plan on getting back into the swing of things soon, though. Until then, I just live vicariously through my dad. He’s the new captain over at the 126. Whenever I’m ready, I’ll be working alongside him.”

A part of TK is chomping at the bit to get back to his old routine but he knows he still needs a bit more time to feel as if he’s standing on solid, stable ground again.

“Wait, seriously? My best friend is the EMS captain there.”

“Michelle Blake? No way, I’ve met her a few times. She seems pretty great.”

Carlos nods enthusiastically and laughs. “Damn, maybe you’re right and this town really is too small,” he muses, TK not missing the reference back to their conversation outside the boba shop.

“See? Six degrees of separation is too high of a count for this place.”

Carlos tosses a chip at him but TK is fast and swats it down to the table.

“Jerk. Is that any way to treat your new friend? You wouldn’t want to go giving me the wrong impression of your precious Austin, now would you?”

Carlos makes a face and it’s undoubtedly one of the cutest things TK has ever seen.

“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

“Oh, man,” TK laughs, “you have no idea.”

~*~*~

At lunch, TK finds himself incapable of looking away from his screen. He and Carlos have been chatting since morning with Carlos sending him updates and random pictures of odd things he sees while out shopping with his aunt Lucy. TK has seen everything from ridiculous items for sale at a thrift store to Carlos frowning in a chair with Lucy’s purse on his lap, reflected in the store’s mirror while his aunt is in the changing room. This most recent image is instantly followed with a text reading “SOS!”

TK grins at his phone, zooming in on Carlos’ face. The furrowed brows, the pleading brown eyes, the pout. It’s almost too much for him to handle.

“Earth to TK. Are you with me here, bud?” Owen says.

TK snaps his head upward, finally tearing his eyes away from his phone. “What’s that now?”

Owen shakes his head and laughs, lightly kicking at his leg. “My god, where is your head today?”

TK smiles bashfully and shakes his head. “Right here on my shoulders.”

“Could have fooled me. I could have sworn I saw it floating in the clouds. What’s going on with you?”

TK opens his mouth to speak but closes it back, shifting in his seat to turn to face his father. Try as he might, TK cannot erase the wide smile that breaks across his lips the second he looks at him, his thoughts already filling up so deeply with images of Carlos’ face. A part of him feels silly for being this caught up with someone he’s just befriended but he and Carlos have spoken every day for the last two weeks. Carlos is truly his first and last thought each day. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all in one breath just how much they’ve grown close to each other. It leaves TK’s head spinning.

“You met someone, didn’t you?” Owen says, his grin mirroring his son’s perfectly.

“Wow, you beat me to it.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t exactly a hard guess to make. Tell me all about him.”

TK draws in a deep breath to collect himself. “His name is Carlos and he is…kind of unreal,” he laughs. He can feel his cheeks warming up. “I don’t know. We talk all the time and it’s just…nice? Normal. It’s good to have a friend in this city.”

“A friend, hmm.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Owen holds up his hands, letting out a playful laugh. “Nothing, nothing. Friends are great to have but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this worked up over one before.”

“Yeah, well, Carlos is a special friend. It’s different with him.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” his father says, lifting his brows.

“Seriously, it’s not like that. At least it can’t be right now.”

Owen’s smile fades from his face as he looks at his son and TK can feel a sinking sensation in his chest. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a less than platonic pull towards Carlos but the man knew nothing of his last relationship and the major impact it had on him. There were still so many secrets, ugly truths that TK hadn’t shared yet and was, truthfully, terrified to ever do so. Things with Carlos were light and carefree. For someone like TK who had been living so long with a darkness in him, he wanted to preserve this kind of joy for as long as possible. He thought perhaps it made him selfish to a certain degree but he couldn’t help it. For the first time in over a month, he felt weightless. A feeling like that was too rare and he was in no position to pass it up.

“Why do you say that?”

TK scoffs and shakes his head. “Come on, dad. We both know why we’re down here in the first place. Look at what happened the last time I fell hard for someone.”

“But look at how far you’ve come since then,” his father counters. “Look, you may have a real chance at something great here, whatever it may be. It’s been over a month now, TK. I think it’s time you start taking some wins. You’ve more than earned them. I haven’t seen you this happy in ages.”

TK swallows the lump in his throat, the guilt that rises like bile. His life and actions didn’t only have consequences he had to face. While he knew his father didn’t hold it against him, TK couldn’t help but to feel responsible for them upending their lives and moving away from home.

“I don’t want to wreck this. Carlos is a good guy. Genuinely good, you know? I don’t want to mess that up or put anything bad on him. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Owen searches his face but TK can’t bear it and looks away, back to his plate.

“Tell me about him. How’d you two even meet?”

TK hesitates, fumbling with his fork and turning it over in his hand. He still hasn’t mentioned his panic attack out on the bridge that night. After all, he’d returned home in a better mood than when he left and had been fine in the weeks since so it didn’t seem like something worth mentioning or making his father concerned over. But now, being asked so plainly about how he met Carlos, it feels like something he needs to disclose. TK was skilled at hiding things but he made a vow to himself on the plane ride from JFK to Austin-Bergstrom Airport that he’d truly turn over a new leaf and maintain transparency with his father going forward.

He licks his lips and clears his throat before speaking, avoiding his father’s gaze until he finally speaks.

“When I went out running a few weeks back, I sort of…had a moment. My head was kinda all over the place and I needed a break.”

Owen shifts in his seat, his eyes glued on his son. It was such a bittersweet thing having a father that cared so much at times. On one hand, TK was comforted in knowing that his dad was always willing to listen but on the other, it made him dread his father hearing all the less than pleasant things he had to say from time to time.

“What do you mean?”

TK sets his fork down. “I don’t know. I was thinking a lot about Alex and it just got to feel like too much so I stopped out on the bridge to get myself together.”

“TK—”

“God, no! Not like that. Sorry.” TK sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “It just so happened that I stopped there. I swear, dad. Anyway, clearly it looked troubling because Carlos was on duty and he came up to me to make sure everything was alright. He got called away to an active B&E and I thought that was the last time I’d see him. But literally the next day, after group, we bumped into each other downtown and exchanged numbers.”

Owen settles back against his seat, his fingers splayed on the dining room table. TK watches the parade of emotions that flit across his father’s face from fear to uncertainty to controlled hurt.

“I should have told you more about that night,” TK admits. “I just didn’t want you to worry. I’m so tired of making you worry.”

Owen places a hand on TK’s shoulder and gives it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Whether you tell me everything or not, I’m always going to worry. That just comes with the gig of being a dad. But what makes it easier is if we’re on the same page at all times.”

TK meets his father’s gaze and nods, worrying his bottom lip. Owen sighs softly and drops his hand, trading a concerned look for a warm smile.

“So, Carlos is a cop. What an interesting first responder pair you guys make,” he teases.

TK is glad for the joke as it alleviates some of the tension in his chest. He laughs and rolls his eyes.

“It’s crazy; what are the odds, right?”

Something warm glints in his father’s eyes and TK is almost moved to tears because of it. He can admit he’s been particularly hard on himself over the last month and a half, so convinced that he shouldn’t even allow himself to move on from Alex. He feared he wasn’t ready and that he couldn’t be trusted. But already, in such a short time, he was willing to give a part of himself to Carlos. He didn’t stand much of a chance, in truth. He couldn’t imagine a single person who wouldn’t be disarmed by the other man.

Owen searches his face for a moment as TK focuses back on their conversation.

“Looks like the tide’s starting to turn for you down here in Austin; things are really picking up. Maybe meeting Carlos is just the thing to make you more comfortable.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he parrots. I hope, he thinks.

~*~*~

The next day TK is in his room folding laundry when his phone lights up on his bed. TK cranes his neck to read the text from Carlos.

Hey, you busy tonight?

TK puts down the shirt in his hand and grabs his phone to reply, seeing that Carlos is already typing out another message to him. He waits for it to come in.

If you are, feel free to ignore me. I know it’s kind of short notice to be making plans.

TK can only roll his eyes to this. How many times and how many ways does he have to show Carlos he has nothing else going on in the Austin? And even if he did, Carlos would always be the better option; any plans he may have had could easily be tossed to the backburner.

Ah, yes, let me check my oh so busy schedule. Please hold.

A few seconds later he sends:

Hmm, sitting around the house doing nothing. Online shopping. Scrolling through social media right before bed...yeah, sorry. Booked solid for the evening, I’m afraid

He takes a moment to appreciate his own humor before his phone is vibrating with an incoming call from Carlos.

“How may I help you?” he greets.

“Do you make it your mission every day to be a pain in the neck?” Carlos’ voice is so light and teasing it makes TK’s heart clench in his chest. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to the way they complement each other so perfectly.

“We all have special skills in life. One of mine just happens to be pushing your buttons, what can I say?”

Carlos groans and sighs. “What have I gotten myself into?” There’s no bite to it. If anything, TK can practically see the smile he knows is painted on Carlos’ lips right now.

“I told you there was no going back. So, what’s going on tonight?”

“Ah, right. I thought we could hang out and I could take you to one of my favorite bars downtown.”

TK’s shoulders stiffen at the mention of a bar. He hasn’t stepped foot in one in what feels like forever. He knows he isn’t obligated to drink and that Carlos probably wouldn’t even notice or care if he didn’t indulge. It’s just been easier to eliminate the temptation by steering clear altogether. But a Friday night out with Carlos isn’t something he can shy away from, especially not when Carlos sounds excited to share something special to him.

“Yeah, I could go for that,” he replies.

“Yeah? Great. I’ll text you the address and we could meet up around 9 or so. I hope you’re ready for some dancing.”

“Is this going to be a hoedown? A real, genuine Texan hoedown?”

Carlos’ laugh is strong and clear. TK feels like patting himself on the back for job well done. His favorite thing these last two weeks has been making that sound come about. It does something to his heart to know that Carlos is happy, mainly because of him.

“Yup. I’m looking forward to seeing your moves, New York.”

“I won’t disappoint. I can promise you that much.”

“I never had a doubt.”

TK opens his mouth to reply but can’t. His heart is racing and all he can picture is the two of them out on the dance floor, moving together. It’s an image that lays down roots in his mind and grows so large it’s all he can see.

“Damn, I have to get back to work but I’ll see you tonight, alright?” Carlos says, bringing TK back to the present moment. “I’ll send you the address in just a minute. See ya.”

The call ends before TK can even get a word out but he figures that’s for the best. Carlos has managed to stun him into silence, a feat not many people are capable of.

So maybe his budding friendship is proving to have more weight to it than he wants it to. All the telltale signs of a crush are there, regardless of if TK is ready for them to be or not. It’s not as if he had much of a choice, he reasons. Right from the start Carlos caught his eye and every day that they’ve spoken since has only served to strengthen that. The other man would make such offhanded remarks but TK had to wonder if Carlos was even aware or if it just came by so naturally that he truly didn’t notice. TK wasn’t sure which he preferred.

If Carlos wasn’t being intentional in his flirting, then they were truly just friends and he could be okay with that. Simply having someone to talk to so frequently that wasn’t related to him was a major win. But if there was some sort of hidden code behind his words, TK was almost nervous about uncovering it. In a life post-Alex, he hadn’t been prepared for the possibility of meeting someone he could actually see himself with. But maybe he was alone in thinking there was even something here. And that, TK knew above anything else, was the worst conclusion of all.

~*~*~

“I don’t know what I was expecting but this wasn’t it,” TK says as he and Carlos enter the bar.

“Maybe you’ve seen too many movies? It’s clouding your judgement.” Carlos bumps his shoulder lightly against TK’s arm.

“You might have a point there.”

It’s a lively night and the place is comfortably filled with people already out on the dance floor, moving along to the music being played by a live band in the corner. TK stays close to Carlos’ side even though the place isn’t that crowded and they aren’t likely to get separated. But Carlos doesn’t seem bothered by their proximity. He merely throws a warm smile over his shoulder at him as he leads them to the bar and TK does his best not to melt right there on the spot.

“What are you drinking?” Carlos asks, holding up his fingers to signal the bartender.

“I’m good with mineral water for now,” he replies casually, his eyes fixed on Carlos to see his reaction but the man simply nods and orders for them when the bartender comes over, opening a tab.

If there’s one thing TK has been learning about Carlos these last few weeks is that he doesn’t push in the way virtually everyone else he knows would have. TK appreciates that more than he’ll probably ever be able to express to Carlos.

He takes the glass Carlos hands him, slick with condensation and thanks him. TK is unable to pull his eyes away from Carlos’ mouth as it takes a sip from his beer bottle, his throat going a little dry. He soothes it with a swig of his mineral water and averts his gaze and instead focuses on something safer like the crowd of people dancing. The music becomes a bit more folky and the footwork a bit more intricate but TK is fairly confident he can follow along easily enough.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Carlos says, forcing TK to glance back at him.

“What? About me dancing? Pfft, I can hold my own out there.”

Carlos eyes him from top to bottom and back again. It’s such a simple move and yet it makes TK’s skin tingle to be held in his gaze. Not for the first time since meeting Carlos, he wonders what the man thinks when he looks at him. Smugly, he hopes Carlos feels the energy between them too. Surely, he does, TK reasons. There was nothing casual about that look just now.

“Alright, let’s see it then.” Carlos downs the rest of his beer and sets it down on the bar. TK follows suit, finishing off his drink in kind.

He isn’t expecting Carlos to reach for his hand but he gives it up willingly, feeling warmth course through him that has absolutely nothing to do with being surrounded by people. Carlos leads them right to the center of the dance floor, a large smile on his face. He doesn’t waste a single second in falling into line with everyone else. TK does his best, trying hard not to look at his feet. That’d be a dead giveaway that line dancing is kind of a foreign concept to him. He manages well enough after a few seconds.

“There you go,” Carlos encourages.

TK can’t take his eyes off him. There’s something just so alluring about watching Carlos move freely, completely at ease and assured in his movements.

They keep dancing for a while, TK relaxing into it and matching Carlos beat for beat. The music eventually changes to something slower, couples remaining on the dancefloor and settling in close to each other. TK looks around at everyone before glancing to Carlos who gives him a questioning look. TK gives a small smile, silent confirmation that he doesn’t mind having this dance with Carlos. He keeps his eyes on Carlos’ face, trying to decipher the expression in them. It’s like he can see it all in real time, Carlos making the decision to try for something a little more. The man brings his face closer but TK stiffens in his hold and takes a step back.

“I think I’m gonna get some air. Just a sec,” he says, pursing his lips and walking off.

He’s cursing himself for panicking and being a coward. The most frustrating thing is knowing that had he been in a different place mentally, he absolutely would have followed through on kissing Carlos. He’s spent a fair bit of time over the last two weeks picturing what that would feel like. Here it was now the opportunity was presenting itself and TK’s initial reaction was to run.

He stands outside of the bar, leaning against the building with his eyes closed, replaying the exchange over and over.

“Do you just want to get out of here?” he hears Carlos say. When he opens his eyes, Carlos is standing right in front of him, his face unreadable. “We could go for a drive, if that’s alright with you.”

TK pulls in a breath and nods. What he wants to do is apologize a million times and let Carlos know that none of this is his fault. Carlos is truly perfect, almost scarily so as far as TK is concerned. He can barely take the shift in Carlos’ mood. Not even five minutes ago the man was smiling brightly. Now he looked unsure and uneasy, all because of TK. If he could have even a minute to explain, TK would be grateful. A car ride with just the two of them was ideal.

Carlos nods too and leads the way over to his car, the two of them climbing inside. Neither of them says a word as Carlos brings the car to life and begins to drive. TK knows he should be the one to break the silence but his thoughts are a riot in his mind and nothing makes sense. Every time he starts to form a sentence in his head, the words don’t sound right. Carlos keeps driving, eventually coming up to an empty area.

He stops the car and looks over at TK. In his eyes is fear and concern, so much so that TK feels guilty, already able to see that Carlos blames himself for the awkwardness earlier. It’s so incorrect and misdirected but Carlos is already speaking before TK can even dispel the man’s thoughts.

“I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Carlos’ chest rises and falls heavily. TK isn’t used to seeing him uneasy and it doesn’t sit well.

“God, Carlos, no. You didn’t—I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

TK sighs and tilts his head back against his seat. The silence in the car presses down on his ears but he needs a few seconds to get his thoughts in order.

“The whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing completely applies here, as cliché as it is,” he starts out, turning his head to look at Carlos.

Carlos’ expression is so serious, like he’s truly giving his full attention over to TK, like he sincerely wants to understand what he’s thinking or how he can help. The level of kindness and sincerity Carlos has shown him since day one is unparalleled and given how his last relationship ended, TK is in awe of the fact that someone is willing to extend this generosity to him.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet. In time, I really do want to share it with you because I think you could be good for me. Knowing you has already been good for me and you don’t even realize it.”

TK swallows thickly before pressing on. Carlos remains perfectly still, searching his face. TK can’t help the fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach. This man owes him nothing and yet here he is, willing to hear him out.

“I was a bit of a mess back home. I was in a pretty serious relationship that sort of blew up in my face and I just…I couldn’t stay in the city anymore. My dad got offered the job down here and the timing…it seemed like the univere’s way of giving me something of a clean slate. I’m not where I want to be exactly but I’m working on it.”

He stops short then, his breathing shaky. This was more than he thought he’d share with Carlos this early on and while it feels scary to admit to such heavy things, it’s also freeing. Carlos may be new to his life but every instinct of TK’s is telling him that he can trust this man beside him.

Carlos finally moves, reaching out and holding onto TK’s hand. He doesn’t lace their fingers or anything, just simply holds on to it, as if reminding TK that there’s someone here with him. TK’s eyes start to sting with unshed tears.

“Thank you for telling me,” Carlos says. “I know it couldn’t have been easy. We don’t…I’m just happy to be your friend, honest. We don’t have to make something of this. Seriously, just knowing you is enough.”

Despite his best efforts to stop them, TK can feel traitorous tears running down his cheeks but he can’t find it within himself to be embarrassed over it. Being around Carlos is like existing in a judgement free zone. With his free hand, he wipes at his face and Carlos gives him a soft smile. The sight alone is like a balm over TK’s hurt.

Carlos leans forward, resting his forehead against TK’s. It’s such a tender expression that TK’s breath hitches and his heart skips a beat.

“You’re going to be okay,” Carlos says softly, confidently as if he has some crystal ball that can predict this.

Either way, TK gladly takes the assurance as a fact, clinging to that promise like a life raft in a heavy storm.

[creepy-spooghetti]

A Hapless Endearment [Creepypasta x F. Reader]

Chapter 4 - Take Me Away, A Secret Place

———

The morning eventually comes, and it brings the bright, cheerful sunlight with it, much to Y\n's relief. The golden rays shine in through her window pane, forcing her to press a hand to her eyes and give herself a chance to adjust to the light invading her vision. She's kept herself awake for the whole rest of the night, starting from when she woke up from that horrific nightmare at around eleven-thirty and absolutely, under any circumstances, refused to go back to sleep.

Troubling subjects have been laying heavy on her mind for the past six hours, and no matter what she does to rid herself of them, it never works. At least, it hasn't yet. She's tried scrolling through the internet, watching YouTube videos, she even started another painting, though she only managed a few brush strokes before she scrapped it altogether and fell to the floor in a tired rage.

She isn't going to deny the fact that she's mentally exhausted, from both the lack of sleep and anxiety that's been creeping through her nerves the entire day thus far. After around two hours of laying in bed, she decided to get up and go downstairs for a glass of water. Then she decided against it, mainly due to the fact that she already had a perfectly good bottled water sitting right beside her bed. She considered wandering down to watch some TV, or eat some food, or virtually anything she could do to get her mind off of what had happened, but also blew off that idea fairly quickly.

She didn't want to be the reason for her grandparents waking up, especially because of a stupid little dream. Even though she, herself, knows that it wasn't just a 'stupid little dream'. Whether it has a deeper meaning or not, it terrified her, and that's all the convincing she needs to not want to have one like it, or one even worse. She just fears that she would be scolded for having such childish agitation over something that, in all reality, can't even physically hurt her.

Well... the things in her head can't hurt her. But what she saw... was that really in her head? Sure, one could blame paranoia, panicked delusions, a tired, frantic state that made her hallucinate something that wasn't really there. Like sleep paralysis, though she knows for a fact that she wasn't experiencing sleep paralysis.

So what was it? Maybe a strangely-shaped tree bent by the light in the right way to make it look scary? Some type of humanoid animal? Or perhaps it was just her imagination playing tricks on her, after all? She isn’t entirely sure, but she does know that whatever it was, it was unsettling and very out-of-place.

And then there’s the nightmare. That is the second time in barely three days that she’s had a nightmare like that. Sure, bad dreams are no stranger to her; she’s been experiencing them since she was a little kid, though they became more common after her life started to fall apart. But none of them were like that. Her mind had never been in such a gut-wrenching, sinister state before, and it deeply concerns her.

What would make her think up such a scenario? Her cousin, one of her very best childhood friends, being dead? Right before her very eyes? She’s thought, maybe it has something to do with the odd conversation that she shared with her grandfather just a day prior? But he didn’t say anything that should ever make her think anyone was murdered. Especially Wyatt.

Although it’s still a mystery to her, she knows that nothing like that could’ve happened during her long absence… right? If it had, someone would have called her dad to inform him, then he would have told her. He isn’t the best person or the best father by any stretch, but surely he wouldn’t keep her in the dark about something so horrific, right?

She’s tried to forget about it, even though she knows that it’s likely going to be something that sticks with her for quite a while, and she’s tried to calm herself down. It was just a dream. Nothing more. She hasn’t anything to worry about. It was just a startling vision that her mind created to scare her. It’s all the stress finally getting her, that’s all.

A feeling of dread and terror has settled inside of her stomach, and though it has faded considerably since she awoke, it’s still there and very present, plaguing her mind, repeating the nightmare over and over again in her head, making her miserable. As if it’s saying, “The worst has yet to come”.

She will ask Nana and Pops. She will get to the bottom of why her aunt, uncle, and Wyatt never, supposedly, come down to visit. Once she gets them to answer, finds out why her grandpa was acting so suspicious yesterday, gets it through her head that it isn’t as bad as she’s made herself think it is, then maybe, just maybe, she won’t be bombarded with such terrible thoughts each time she tries to sleep.

She blinks, adjusting to the bright, bulbous orb that slowly appears from behind the trees, and watching as the stars fade away, the moon following close behind them. The sky changes from a deep, royal blue to a vivid maya in the span of only a few minutes.

Her eyelids feel heavy, and even without checking the time she knows it has to be around six-thirty to seven in the morning based on the low place that the sun rests in the sky. She leans her back against the wall, letting out a soft, distressed sigh and allowing her eyes to shut for but a brief moment. Any more and she would drift back off to sleep, and she doesn’t want to do that. Not any time soon. Not until she’s been reassured that nothing like what her dream suggested actually happened.

Rubbing her eyes to rid herself of the drowsy feeling still messing with her senses, she sits up fully in her bed, finally able to convince herself that now would be a good time to go downstairs and start her day. Quietly, of course, so she doesn’t wake her grandparents.

Maybe she can make them breakfast like Nana has done for her so many times, recently and in the past. She’s never been a very skilled cooker, but she can make simple things like scrambled eggs, bacon, and French toast. What’s the worst that can happen? Okay, she can set the kitchen on fire, or make the stove explode, or overcook/undercook everything and give the residents of the household food poisoning, but she prefers not to think of those unlikely—but possible— outcomes.

With a small mental protest, she wearily rises out of bed, walking over to her closet to find some decent clothes for the day and changing into mentioned clothes before heading toward the bathroom, although somewhat cautiously. She’s still on-edge about the events that took place mere hours ago, and she figures that she probably will be until she can get another, more light-hearted subject on her mind. Like making breakfast for two people she loves. It sounds like a fool-proof plan to her, and she fully intends to stick to it.

She isn’t exactly sure what time they wake up, but her guess is somewhere between seven-thirty to eight, or even eight-twenty-five. The hall is still considerably dark, thanks to there being no windows around to light it up a bit, and it makes her nerves spike as she hurries to the targeted room.

Once there, she closes the door quietly and turns on the light, her eyes falling on the mirror straight in front of her, and she leans against the sink, studying her reflection with a blank mind. Her hair has most definitely seen better days, though that’s something easily fixable. Her eyes are the problem.

They look almost completely drained of energy, and the dark rings right beneath them make it clear that she didn’t rest well the night before. She dips her head down after turning on the faucet and splashes cool water against her face, hoping to get rid of some of that ‘I just woke up and I’m exhausted’ look that her reflection stares back at her with.

Her eyes get wider and already, she feels more alert and aware of her surroundings; the exact thing she was wanting to accomplish. She then does everything she deems necessary before she goes back out, snatching her phone from off of her bed and her Bluetooth wireless earbuds, and trekking down the stairs, taking joy in the fact that natural, bright light is shooting through the windows and illuminating the majority of the main floor.

She spots Marshmallow sitting atop a chair, seemingly content grooming himself and only sparing her a short, unphased glance as she appears at the bottom of the staircase. Smiling lightly, she makes her way over to him and squats to his level, currently not caring if she interrupts his self-given bath, stroking his head in greeting and giving him an affectionate kiss on his cheek.

“Hey, little buddy,” she says, her voice lowered as she gingerly scratches his chin. “You having a good morning?” His mouth latches around her finger, not hard enough to make her bleed but she’s certain his sharp teeth will leave indents for a few minutes once they’ve left. She pulls her hand back and rolls her eyes. “Yeah? Me, too.”

She stands back up and straightens her posture, catching a glimpse of the front door before she looks back down at him curiously.

“You ready to go out?” She points at the door, and he seems to get the gist of what she’s saying because he releases a meow of protest and stretches his body out. “Well, I know it’s early.” She crosses her arms. “That doesn’t mean you can’t go hunting or whatever.” Marshmallow jumps from his position on the chair and walks toward his empty food bowl, looking back at Y\n expectantly. “Oh, c’mon. You’re perfectly capable of going out and getting your own food.”

She’s met with a loud and, frankly impatient, meow, and she huffs but begins her small journey to the pantry nonetheless.

“Fine, fine. You win.” When she arrives, she gazes idly through the various cans of food, bags of flour, and boxes of cereal and rice and beans, trying to locate the bag of branded cat food she knows has to be in here. “Last time I was here, they kept it in this room…” She mutters to herself, bending down to look beneath the shelves. Her eyes land on a red and white bag, the top ripped open and a metal scoop resting inside.

Instantly recognizing it as her desired item thanks to the large cat head printed on the front, she takes the handle of the scoop and dips it farther into the brown pebbles of cat food, walking back out soon after and dumping it in Marshmallow's bowl. He lets out a satisfied meow and sticks his nose into it briefly, as if checking that it isn't fake, before seeming content enough and beginning to eat it.

Y\n pats him on the head and returns the scoop to its rightful place inside of the pantry, closing the door behind her and going to the kitchen. She turns on the overhead light, enabling her to see a lot better than she could previously, and grabs different ingredients from the fridge, including a carton of large eggs, cheese, water, vanilla extract, syrup, and a pack of bacon. Then she moves to collect salt and pepper, a loaf of Sunbeam bread, cooking oil, a whisk, a mixing bowl, three separate skillets, and three plates.

Happy that Nana has all of the stuff that she needs in order to create this easy and, hopefully, good-quality breakfast, she puts in her earbuds, turns on some music, and begins by mixing up the scrambled eggs and putting a few strips of bacon on a skillet. Not having made breakfast in quite a while, she's a bit rusty, and it takes a few moments to remember what exactly she's supposed to do, though she gets the hang of it pretty quickly, and in around thirty-five minutes, she has the food all ready to eat and is washing up the used dishes after dividing everything up and pouring them onto plates.

I wonder when they'll get up... she thinks, glancing at the food then at the staircase that leads up to their bedroom. Breakfast will get cold if they don't come down soon. As if on cue, she hears a set of heavy footsteps from upstairs as they stop by and go into what she assumes to be the bathroom. Drying her hands, she grabs two of the three plates, walking into the dining room and setting them on the rectangle table before going to get the third one. As she passes the door again, she sees Marshmallow sitting and pawing at its surface, not-so-subtly implying what he expects of her.

She inwardly sighs and looks down at him with a raised eyebrow, resting a hand on her hip. "Really? Now you want to go out?" She receives a 'meow' in response, and she rolls her eyes but unlocks the door nonetheless, Marshmallow standing and backing away to ensure he doesn't get hit by it swinging open and then waiting for her to push the screen open. On his way out, he rubs against her leg and lightly flicks his tail in her direction, a gesture she takes as appreciation before he jumps off the porch and disappears around the corner of the house.

Around that time, she hears a door on the second floor open and that same pair of footsteps walking closer to the staircase, and she turns her head to look behind her, seeing her grandpa cautiously making his way down, making sure to hold onto the wooden rail for support. She shuts the door and plasters a smile across her face, stepping forward to greet him once he reaches the floor, though he speaks before she can.

"Hey, hummingbird!" he says, glancing at the clock hung on the wall beside the door to check the time before meeting her gaze. "What are you doin' up? It's only seven-forty-eight." Her smile turns slightly timid and she holds back a yawn, instead opting to keep her response simple so she doesn't make him worried and shrug her shoulders.

"Uh, well... I just, thought I'd get up early. Make breakfast..." Then her eyes widen and she signals toward the dining table on the opposite side of the living room. "Oh yeah, I made breakfast! Is Nana gonna be up soon, too?" He shakes his head in the negative, giving Y\n a friendly pat on her shoulder and walking toward the table.

"Nah. She didn't sleep very well last night, she probably won't be up for a couple of hours yet." Y\n glances at the plate of food laying on the island in the center of the kitchen, feeling a pang of pity erupt throughout her chest. She grabs it and places a sheet of plastic wrap over it diligently and puts it on a shelf in the fridge, hoping that Nana will feel like eating when she does finally get up.

She fills two glasses with milk and brings them back into the dining room, giving one to Phil and the other she keeps, taking a seat in one of the four identical chairs placed around the table. "How come? Was she having bad dreams?" Part of her wonders whether or not her grandma is suffering the same symptoms as herself, though she seriously doubts it. But it never hurts to ask, she supposes.

"Heh, no." He takes a bite of eggs, taking his time to finish his reply, and she takes his silence as an opportunity to begin eating, as it seems like she won't have to be in any hurry to say anything for a few moments. She has to admit, she didn't do a bad job with making the food. The eggs could use a bit more salt, but other than that, she's quite proud of how it all turned out, especially since she hasn't made a proper meal in several months. "Just aching joints, mostly. That and stress."

She lifts her eyes curiously at this, and he continues looking down at his plate, taking steady bites and not seeming to acknowledge her questioning gaze, nor what he had said. After around thirty seconds of silence, she breaks it, wanting to know what would possibly be stressing her grandmother out so much that it interferes with her sleep. "What do you mean stress? Is there something wrong?"

Only now does he meet her eyes, his face morphing into one of realization, and he furrows his eyebrows. "Well, yeah..." His voice wavers ever-so-slightly, and it's so precise that even Y\n almost doesn't notice it. "I mean, w-with your parents, and everything."

"Why would my parents stress you guys out?" She can tell that at least part of his statement isn't 100% true, though she doesn't want to pressure him and instead be easy with it. After all, if he wants to tell her, he'll tell her. "They're my problem, not yours."

"Darlin', if your parents aren't treating you right, that makes them our problem, too. Especially your dad." Perhaps she just isn't used to people willingly getting involved in her personal life, but those two sentences sound so strange to her. They also sound touching, so much so it makes her heartbeat speed up. "We're not going to stand aside and let you be neglected and mistreated."

She swallows, trying to keep the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes at bay, and takes a shaky breath. "Well... thanks, Pops..." Her tone is soft and genuine, probably the most genuine it's been in quite a while, and she sends him a grateful smile. He briefly returns it, turning his attention back to his food and continuing to eat.

A couple of minutes pass, and silence is all that's heard as the two enjoy the meal, Y\n's mind swarming with thoughts. How could she have forgotten how pure her grandparents are? How has she gone nearly half of her life without their wholesome influence? How could her father just get rid of almost all connections with them and act like they don't even exist? It's a totally shameful thing to do, and that fact is only just now making itself apparent to her. How could he? After they raised him? After they gave him and Aunt Darcy all of their love? How could he just stop talking to them like that?

It's bad enough that he refuses to visit with them, but then he goes and forces her to do the same thing? How could her father be so utterly selfish that he abandons what should be two of the most important people in his life? It doesn't make any sense to her. Then again, her father hasn't really made much sense since all of this pointless drama started, so she guesses it won't get much more sensible from here on out.

At least her aunt still treats them like her parents. Or... she did the last time Y\n was here. It's unknown what she does, now, which makes the dream she had flash into her mind. Just what happened between her aunt and her grandparents? Taking a composing breath through her nose and biting the inside of her cheek somewhat nervously, she speaks, again. "Pops... can I ask you something?"

"Anything, Y\n. Ya don't have to be shy around me." She averts her gaze to a wall, gathering her thoughts and attempting to form a coherent sentence.

"Well... you said, yesterday when I asked about Aunt Darcy, that you'd tell me later." She tries to keep her voice raised enough so he can hear her well, as his ears aren't 'what they used to be', as he's told her. "And... well, it's later, so..."

She sees him stiffen and stare down as if trying to sort through his thoughts, and she waits patiently, if not anxiously, for his response. It's clearly a serious matter that he feels hesitant to discuss, but surely it can't be anything like what her dreams suggested, right? No, absolutely not. She would've been informed a long time ago if something like that had happened. They probably just lost touch. Maybe they moved far away from here and they feel sad talking about it.

"Y\n..." He catches her full attention when he starts, and he almost seems to crumble under her apprehensive gaze. "I think you should wait and talk about this with your grandmother. I'm afraid I'm not the best, uh..." He rubs the stubble on his chin and releases a humorless laugh. "I don't explain things very well."

"Please?" She really doesn't want to resort to begging, but she has to know. If her mind is going to be put to ease, it needs to know that her dream is nothing more than that; a dream. What she saw isn't real, and it will never be. So she can relax and enjoy the rest of her vacation with her grandparents. He opens his mouth like he's about to further argue his point, but she beats him to it. "I don't care if you're not good at explaining things. Just tell me? Please?"

He stares across the table at her for a good minute before finally letting out a defeated sigh and sliding his now-empty plate to the side in order to give him room to rest his arms comfortably across the wooden surface in front of him, muttering something about how 'she'd have to know eventually'.

"Look, Y\n..." He looks like he's currently straining himself for the correct words to say, and she doesn't take her eyes off of him. "...around a year and a half, two years ago..." He meets her e\c orbs, his own holding great pain and hesitation. She subconsciously squeezes the fork within her hand, her lips parting slightly in anticipation. What happened? Did they get into a fight? Did Aunt Darcy and Uncle Marvin get divorced? "...Wyatt disappeared. And... and Darcy and Marvin were murdered."

Her breath hitches as her mind tries to comprehend this newly-delivered information. No, no... that couldn't have happened. All of it was a dream, nothing more. Her mind didn't predict anything. It couldn't have. No, Pops has to be joking... but what if he isn't? She leans forward in shock, eyebrows raised and heart skipping a beat as she forces one single word out of her mouth. "Wh-what...?" It comes out as a whisper, and he runs his fingers through his white, thin hair.

"I-I really shouldn't be telling you this."

"How...?" She fights the tears in her eyes and gulps, nervous to hear his answer. He only shakes his head.

"That's too descriptive, I don't think you need to—"

"Were they stabbed? S-strangled? Shot?" She isn't sure why, but she wants to know. Despite how painful it will be. She tilts her head in distress and considers the way he stares at her, seeming to contemplate what she said. Her eyes are pleading, desperate, and her bottom lip quivers vaguely.

"They... they were stabbed. Probably by the javelin that Marvin kept in the living room, because it was missing, a-and the wounds were... messy, they said." She drops her fork and shoves her plate aside, resting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands as she comprehends all of this. How could this have happened? These are things that are only supposed to take place in movies, on crime shows, not in real life. It isn't supposed to happen to her family.

"And... and Wyatt?" Her voice is muffled and quiet as her stomach quickly becomes queasy.

"Nobody knows. He just... vanished." Her heart gets caught in her throat and she releases a small sound similar to a whimper. "There are theories that he... that he killed them and then took off to get away from the law." She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping strands of her hair.

"H-he wouldn't. He loves them..."

"I know. I think that's an absurd theory, myself." He rests a consoling hand on her arm in an effort to bring her comfort. She barely even registers the touch and focuses on the thoughts running rampant through her mind. How could her aunt and uncle be dead? How could her cousin be missing? How could anybody think he had anything to do with it? "I knew this would be a lot to handle, I'm sorry, darlin'."

"Wh-why didn't I know about this?" She lifts her head just enough to meet his eyes, her voice unsteady. "If it happened that long ago, why was I kept in the dark?"

"Trust me, we tried to tell you. We tried to tell your dad, your mom, but neither of them listened to us. They ignored our calls, wouldn't let us get on the phone with you. You deserved to know, and I'm sorry it's taken us this long to tell you." She can't stop her hands from shaking as a tear rolls down her cheek.

"Y-you mean Dad... Dad didn't care that his sister was dead?" Bitterness and a form of disbelief lace her voice as her eyes seem to bare holes into the table in front of her.

"He didn't want to believe it. I think he convinced himself it didn't actually happen and refused to acknowledge any of it." A rich, overwhelming fear washes over her and nearly makes her throw up as she bites her lip, so hard it almost draws blood, though she doesn't pay attention to the pain. Her eyes narrow in on Phil and she removes her hands from her face to get a better view of him, and so her voice wouldn't be indistinct.

"You... you're not joking, are you?" He shakes his head slowly, and goosebumps form along the skin of her arms.

"No... I'm so sorry. I know you were close with them..."

"I, uh..." She stands to her feet, grabbing her dishes and not having the stomach to finish her breakfast. "I'm gonna... go. Out, f-for a walk." As she walks around the table and past Phil, he lightly takes hold of her wrist to get her attention, and she glances down at him with glossy eyes.

"...I didn't want to scare you, or make you feel so bad, Y\n. I just... didn't want to lie to you."

"N-no, it's okay," she says, though her tone implies otherwise. "Thank you. I-I wanted to know." Before he can say anything else, she easily pulls away from his grasp and heads toward the kitchen, dumping her scraps in the large trash can before washing the dishes, putting them in the drainer to dry, pocketing her phone, and going toward the front door once again. "Um, if Nana wakes up  before I'm back, please tell her that there's food in the fridge."

Not waiting for a reply although not exactly expecting one, she exits the home, shutting the screen behind her and speed-walking toward the white gate. She finds herself in a hurry to get some privacy, be in solitude so she can express herself more clearly without fear of being judged. Though tears now stream freely down her cheeks, she tries to hold them back until she's concealed in the thick greenery of the forest, and she takes the very same path she did yesterday, and many times before, this time not paying attention to what she steps on and what she doesn't.

She stumbles several times over the thorny plants and uncut weeds until eventually making it to a tamer area of the trail, wrapping her arms around herself and letting out squeaky sobs. Is it just a terrible coincidence? Her dreaming about Wyatt dying then finding out his parents was murdered and he's missing? Or is there something deeper going on? She can't seem to think past the fact that her aunt and uncle are dead, or the fact that her cousin just seemingly vanished without a trace and has yet to return.

Since she's arrived here, her dreams have had a menacing, eerie atmosphere to them, though she assumed it was just the stress of everything manifesting itself into the form of something specifically created to put fear in her heart. She didn't think they meant anything more, not so much so that they invade her mind during the day, every day, without end. But... was she wrong?

How can they be gone? Just like that? Her eyebrows furrow and her eyes narrow in both incredulity and anger. And how could Dad know but not tell me? I'm his freaking daughter, for goodness sake! And they're his sister, his brother-in-law! His nephew! How could- how could he just act like nothing happened!?

A pathetic whimper escapes through her lips and she shakes her head, quickening her pace and keeping an eye out for a connecting path in particular that she and Wyatt used to take to get to the river. They used to take that path, together, when they were kids. That would never happen again. Because he's missing and probably won't ever come back.

Oh God... this means Nana and Pops are the only ones left... She sniffles and sucks in shallow, sharp breaths as she comes to this realization, slowing down absentmindedly. She was my only aunt, he was my only cousin, Marvin was my only uncle... they were my closest relatives that actually gives a crap about me.

Seeing as how her mother's parents disowned her when she was only seventeen because she got impregnated by a man who was, at the time, twenty-two, she never got to meet them and didn't hear too much about them, outside of insults and general hate. Her mom's sister, Giana, didn't visit a lot, and when she did she was always snobby and selfish, and it was apparent to Y\n that she didn't really care for her niece very much. She was clearly only after the money that Y\n's father and mom had at their grasp.

In other words, her mother's family left much to be desired. At least her dad's side of the family loves her, which is something she's beyond grateful for. But now part of them is gone. Only her grandparents remain. Does her father even care about that? Has he ever stopped and thought, 'ya know, maybe I should stop acting like a scumbag and spend time with my parents before it's too late', or 'I should be there for my sister's funeral'? Doubtful. If he did it was a mere idea that he quickly brushed aside and labeled as 'ridiculous'.

Y\n wouldn't be so angry with him had he at least let her still see them, at least a couple of times a year, maybe on holidays, but that simply isn't the case. If she had been allowed back here years ago, she would've been able to spend quality time with all of them before that horrible event occurred. But now it's too late. All thanks to her selfish jerk for a father.

She releases an infuriated scream and turns to kick the nearest tree, causing a bird that was sitting on a branch previously to fly away in alarm, likely thinking that it's under attack and wanting to get away before it gets hurt. She could care less about the winged creature at the moment though and continues to kick the tree a total of three more times before collapsing on her knees in a sobbing, shaking, and heartbroken heap.

Even if she tried, she'd be unable to keep her negative emotions to herself. But she doesn't want to. She wants to cry, cry until she can't anymore. Nobody's around, she's completely alone. What harm will it bring? Salty tears slide down her face and hit the ground with a tiny splash each time, and she leans forward and rests her forearms on the grass beneath her for some sort of stability.

She can hardly believe this information, no matter how many times it runs through her head. It seems surreal, almost like a dream. But this isn't a dream. Right? It would be amazing to wake up and find out that Marvin and Darcy were alive and well, and Wyatt was still here, living a happy life. But that scenario is very unlikely to be true. Still, she hopes. Maybe it's all in her mind. She pinches the skin on her arm and instantly winces, waiting to wake up in her bed. But she doesn't.

She crashes further to the ground and her pained wails become louder. Why them? Why some of the sweetest people in her life? Why did they have to go? Why couldn't it have been a bad person? Someone whose only goal in life is to make others suffer? Why couldn't it have been her own parents instead of Wyatt's? As terrible of a thought it sounds, she can't seem to make herself think any differently.

Who would do such a thing? Who would murder somebody with a family that they love, that loves them in return? Have they no empathy? No compassion, no remorse, whatsoever? Clearly not. A sudden snap of a twig draws her attention and she cranes her neck to the side, gazing through swollen, glassy eyes and trying to see past the trees and find whatever is the source of the noise. Seeing nothing and brushing it off as an animal or her imagination, she turns back toward the ground, attempting to gather her bearings to continue her walk in peace.

After a couple of minutes, she catches her breath, calms herself down enough to be somewhat aware of her surroundings, and leisurely rises to her feet, wiping the remainder of the tears away with the back of her arm and beginning to walk forward, once again.

She spots a familiar trail, shrouded by even more briars and thick plants, that she remembers to lead to her and Wyatt's old 'Hangout', as they used to call it, where the water is just clear enough to be considered 'clean', where a small mountain covered with boulders rests, where a large oak was planted beside the river many years ago and made the perfect place to sit and play cards, share stories, or just stare down below into the beautiful scenery and beyond.

That was the way it used to be, almost eight years ago, and that's the way she hopes it is, now. Maybe it will be just like a painting frozen in time. Maybe it hasn't changed at all. Guess I'll find out...

She struggles to swat away the plants and duck under branches, looking extra closely for low-hanging spiderwebs that happen to be in the direct path of her head. Her heart aches, there isn't a doubt about that. But below that aching, below the pain, there's anger. Pure vexation, all directed at her father. Yes, she knows he wasn't the one who killed them, but he's the one that kept her from seeing them. Perhaps she should focus all her negative energy around the actual person who caused their deaths. But she can't, not right now. The real villain, in her eyes, is the man whose self-centered personality, along with his total disregard for other peoples' feelings, made the last of her childhood and beginning and middle of her teenage years miserable.

Her mother isn't innocent in this either, with her cheating on her own husband, disacknowledging that her daughter even existed most days anymore, and overall disloyalty toward her family makes Y\n angry. Makes her strongly dislike her. But Y\n's mother had almost nothing to do with these family issues, no. Her father caused that all on his own. She's sure the only reason her mom didn't communicate with them is because he told her not to.

Y\n recalls turning to her mother for answers when she couldn't get anything out of her dad, and she only responded with, "You'll have to ask your father", or "I'm not the one you should be questioning about that". Every single time. So she stopped, after all, what's the point in asking about something if all you get is vague, useless answers in response?

She looks back when she gets the sudden feeling that she's being followed, and flinches in surprise when she meets the chestnut eyes of a fairly normal-looking boy, with messy brown hair and an innocent-looking face. He seems to be around her age, perhaps a couple of years older, and he puts his hands up in defense as if taken off-guard by her startled reaction.

He's taller than average, and she takes a cautious step back when he begins speaking. "O-oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." His voice is deep and has a mature sound to it, and she furrows her eyebrows in slight suspicion. Who is this guy? How long has he been there?

"Were you... following me?" Her tone holds wariness, and he sends her a friendly smile to show her he means well, though she gets the feeling that maybe it isn't as sincere as he makes it seem.

"Uh... yes? But—you don't have to get creeped out or anything, I'm not a stalker." She raises an eyebrow and takes another step back, trying to make as much distance between herself and this random person as she can in case he were to try and attack. "I just moved here and was exploring around, then I saw you walking around and figured I'd say 'hi'."

She considers his posture, his appearance, his upright demeanor, before meeting his eyes again, her muscles relaxing and deciding he seems genuine enough, though she won't let her guard down completely. She isn't extremely concerned about the way she must look to him, and he isn't commenting on it, much to her relief. "...Really? Where do you live?"

"About a mile north from here." He nods his head in that direction and sticks his hands into his hoodie pocket habitually. "My mom thought I should get out and get familiar with the area."

"And how do you like it?" She tilts her head, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. He shrugs.

"It's nice. Pretty quiet most of the time, but it's a good area to unwind, I guess." She nods in response, and he takes a step closer, something that doesn't go unnoticed by her. "What about you?"

"I'm here visiting some family while my parents are away on business." She said the term 'family' instead of 'grandparents' without even thinking about it, something that makes her chest tighten when she realizes that very thing.

"Cool. You been here before?"

"Not since I was a kid."

"How come?" She narrows her eyes up at him and her voice hardens slightly, not willing to give a stranger a lot of personal information about herself. Maybe it's the fact that she hasn't interacted much with anyone outside what was necessary for quite a while and it's making her feel overly-cautious about meeting new people, but something about this person seems strange. She can't quite put her finger on it, all she knows is that she feels weird around him.

"Family issues." There's a certain tension that begins to form between the two of them, and she shuffles on her feet uncomfortably, not sure if this guy wants to maintain some type of conversation with her. She was never the best at reading people and knowing what they were thinking. A few moments pass.

"So... where are you going?"

"Um..." She glances behind her, to the unconquered trail that she was taking before he appeared, and jabs her thumb backward to show him. "There's a river and a tree and stuff down there, I was just seeing if it's the same as I remember it being."

"I don't mean to be the annoying know-it-all, but..." He uses his eyes to signal around them in an obvious manner. "There are trees everywhere." A huff exits her nose and she rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, well. There is one tree there that's more special than the ones here." He chuckles lightly and nods.

"Fair enough. Mind if I tag along?" She presses her lips together after hearing this seemingly harmless request, thinking it over. "Hey, I know that face. Don't worry, I'm not gonna slaughter you or anything when we get there."

"Heh, no, I wasn't—" She runs her hand through her hair and grapples for words that won't make her seem paranoid or stupid.

"You were." He grins mischievously, walking closer to her, and she steps to the edge of the path in response, still not fully trusting of this evidently nice individual. "It's okay. Look, I'll even go first so I can't stab you in the back." She bites the inside of her cheek and watches as he passes her effortlessly and stops a few inches ahead. "You were following the trail, right?" She nods. "Then c'mon and we'll 'get familiar with the area' together."

"I'm already familiar with the area," she says, hesitantly following behind him when he starts walking.

"Okay, okay, then let me get familiar with the area and you will just... stay familiar with the area, I guess." She can't stop the amused smirk that etches itself across her face as she falls in place next to him, though keeps a fair distance between the two of them. As 'fair' as the distance can be, at least. She's content that she's found something that will hopefully distract her for a little while just so she won't have to think about the current horrors of her life. "So what's your name?"

"Y\n." She briefly meets his eyes and repeats his own inquiry. "What about you?"

"Nice to meet you, Y\n. I'm Jack."

[eolian-234]

The Hourglass

Previous Chapter Fifteen: Down Once More

Summary: In a world where his family is gone, Peter believes he is living on borrowed time, but when he runs into Tony Stark that will all change. Will he fight for more time or is all lost?

Hope you are all doing well. Short but important

Chapter Sixteen: Confessions

Tony drove them in silence on the way home from the hospital. His hands gripped the wheel too tight and from the back-seat Peter could see the veins shadowing the tendons in his fingers. Tony’s eyes drifted from the road to gaze at his two passengers too often for comfort but neither of them said anything. Peter shifted once, twice, and a third time in his seat as he felt eyes on his face but still, the thick silence continued.

At their arrival he opened the doors, made sure to grab their bags, and after checking to see how they were doing, stiffly walked behind them the whole way. His darkened expressions acted like a dreary cold on their already subdued party. Rhodey kept his friend’s mood in mind, allowing him to sulk and simultaneously fuss over them, until the man headed straight for his room and punctuated their arrival with a slammed door.

“Tony,” Rhodey called after and sighed at the lack of response as he slipped of his shoes. He shivered and began coughing. Deep, scratching coughs came from his chest sounding painful and draining. Peter hurried to the kitchen. He brought back a glass of water before grabbing a kettle for tea.

Rhodey plopped down on the couch. Peter paced in the kitchen, waiting for the water to warm and just stopping himself from rushing to his room. So fazed was Peter that he didn’t even notice the couch they settled on with barely more than a wince.

Rhodey noticed and asked between sips. “Why don’t you ever sit here?”

Peter fiddled with the handle of his teacup and glanced out the window weighing what he should say. All of his well thought out plans flew out the window when Rhodey had fallen into the lake. If he had only said something, told them it was the lake from before. The lake he had once upon a time fallen into then they wouldn’t have gone. He was confident enough to know their consideration for him would have outweighed their need for fun. If he’d confessed, Rhodey wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Full transparency was always the right way to go. Mostly.

Still, he wasn’t sure if he should tell Rhodey why the color green brought a sour taste to the back of his throat. His aunt wasn’t someone he talked about often, or ever. He wiped his palms against the thighs of his pants. May was precious to him. He was protective of her now that he’d failed to be in real life. Peter kept her close in his heart, locked away and safe from any who would try to take her away from him a second time. Rhodey placed a hand stopping the fidgeting he hadn’t realized he was doing. Peter thought back to how nice it was waking up from the nightmare with someone there for him. Maybe he should share her. She wouldn’t be forgotten or gone from him if he did. Her memories would be greater than him now. May and a piece of her light would reside with Rhodey if he shared.  

He never thought he would admit Tony was right but he was. It was time to break the endless cycle he was trapped in. That timeless aching in his chest so familiar to him now trembled at his reached decision. Against all odds he would do as Tony said and trust them not to bring any more pain to him.

“My aunt. I lived with her for a long time and our apartment was broken into. They held me there. It could have been the exact same couch, for all I know. She insisted it was olive green. And I saw her… she was shot in my living room. I was… I’ll never forget.”



“Shit. I’m so sorry Peter.” He shook his head. It was done now, though said in half-sentences and rambling words. His chest tightened. It wasn’t fair to burden someone with his worries and nightmares. But Rhodey put his arm around Peter’s shoulder and pulled them together. The sideways embrace was warm and comforting. Peter settled back into the couch, chest easing until a languid tiredness returned to his countenance.

“Is Tony okay?” He asked wondering about the boy’s odd behavior.

“It’s not your fault. Tony’s protective of his family and yesterday probably brought a lot of bad memories to mind.” He sighed and turned to face Peter. “Did he ever tell you why he was at the hospital?”



“No and I never asked. Everything happened so fast.”



Rhodey nodded. He fell back against the couch and the mood shifted into something more pensive. Peter stared at the curtains, limp and dark, across the room. Not even the light from the moon could squeeze through the cracks.

“I know and I’m so happy it did. Tony’s parents were killed right before Christmas. He was there, hurt in the back and unconscious because of the impact. Tony had been in the hospital for over a month refusing medicine and an evaluation of his mental health. He met everything with anger and resistance. I was worried about him, more than usual that is. His eating habits were nonexistence and they had a watcher with him most nights but then you showed up. It was the best thing that could have happened, in all honesty. And, well you know, he’s Tony but there was something he could focus on.”

“I don’t want to be burden.”



“Peter, you aren’t. We were stuck in this depressing cycle before you arrived. You’re timing couldn’t have been any better.” Rhodey said with a small smile.

Peter’s stomach dropped.

This could be the moment. He could tell them everything and by doing so protect them from any harm in the future. He could confess to knowing them and their circumstances to make sure they would never meet. Rhodey and Tony could be safe and live their lives without worry about him. If he ever made it back to his time it would be… empty but ultimately worth it.

He would be calm and careful. Only telling them certain parts. Peter got up nodding to himself.

“Peter?”



“Wait here.” Peter walked down the hallway and stood in front of Tony’s door before knocking. He could hear paper shuffling from inside under the music. His patience began to wear thin and Peter was about to lose courage when Tony called out from inside.

“Nobody’s home.”



“Tony? I Need to talk to you and Rhodey. Please.”
There was a pause. The loud music turned off and he came out. They trailed one after another into the living room. Tony sat next to Rhodey on the couch and Peter stood before them. His heart pounded against his ribs. He imagined his pacing digging into the carpet and forming a tunnel he could climb down to hide. Was he going to do this?

“I have something to say and I would ask you don’t interrupt before I finish. Also, that you try to believe me.” He checked to see that they understood. Though Tony still had a furrowed brow from earlier they both focused on him with unusual seriousness.

“What are you talking about Peter?”
Of course, Tony couldn’t sit still for long, he would have to talk fast. He swallowed and just blurted it out.

“I’m from the future.”



Oh no. He’d said it. Peter stood frozen on the spot, staring past them at a point in the wall of no importance. His breath was too fast and too slow all at once. Peter was frozen, reality, as much as he could tell, was still going. Time passed at a snail’s pace and he took that as a sign he hadn’t disrupted any time space continuum. He clenched his hands together. Nothing was coming apart at the seams. He was there and whole in body and mind. If he ignored the incredulous looks, it would’ve been hard to imagine he’d confessed to the impossible only a second ago.

The two on the couch were in a rare state of silence. Peter took a large breath and began again.

“I know it sounds out of this world but I was attacked in my time and fell into the lake, the same one outside. I fell in and woke up in the hospital here. I don’t know why or how but it happened, or has yet to happen. I dunno time travel is confusing. But I can feel it more now than before. It’s worse than before, I think, because I went into the water. There’s this grit on my skin and this sound of sand running against itself, like the constant falling in an hourglass. I think my time here is almost up.”

Peter hadn’t realized all of this before he said it. But the words didn’t stop coming and they felt right to him. His time was up here. It was all so vague and confusing. Maybe saving Rhodey was why he came back. Maybe it was meeting them again. Maybe he was looking for reasons where there wouldn’t be one. The hollowness in his bones grew deeper. Peter bowed to the ground out of breath.

“I have to go.” He whispered. Peter rubbed a hand along his wrist and turned to pull back the curtains so he could stare out the window. Ice and snow stared back with a remote intensity that made his stomach clench. Rhodey and Tony gazed at him. He could see their minds, ever on the move, turning with the new information. Peter had to give them credit. The two didn’t denounce him or laugh at his statements. They gave each other a shared look before staring back at him.

“You’re one strange kid, you know that Peter?” As serious as Tony could ever be. They all smiled at one another, relieved the tension was broken, but Peter’s earlier words cast a shadow in their eyes.

Thank you! About five more chapters to go.

Next chapter Seventeen: Kaleidoscope of Memories 

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Too Deep

Switch AU

Oh boy, this is a fairly long one. Not too long, but it all focuses on basically one of our boys: Jackie. After the last story, he has some things to deal with. How does someone adjust to regular life after everything that’s happened? Well, perhaps Jackie doesn’t deal with it in the best way, but he’s figuring it out. I had fun with this chapter, so I hope you guys have fun reading it!

More of this AU found here

Jackie woke up to sunlight coming through the window. The curtains were open, letting the sun brighten the room. He’d asked Rama to leave them open all the time, but they’d been a little concerned about people looking through the bedroom windows. The two of them agreed to keep them closed at night but open during the day. Jackie was a little worried about that at first, but it worked out. 

Glancing at the clock, Jackie noted that it was about 11:30 a.m. Well, he couldn’t just lie in bed all day. Yawning, he sat up and stretched, throwing away the covers and standing up. Quickly, he rummaged through the clothes in his drawer, pulling out some new ones. He pulled the curtains mostly-closed, then backed up into the corner to quickly get dressed. That involved taking off his red hoodie, changing clothes, then putting his hoodie back on. He instinctively started to finger-comb his hair before remembering that JJ had cut it for him a week ago. Which he was really grateful for, of course, even if it had taken a while to get used to the feel of short hair.

Taking a deep breath, Jackie grabbed his glasses, putting them on before opening the curtains again and leaving the room. Upon walking out into the hallway, he immediately picked up on the sound of voices. And froze. One of them he recognized as Rama’s, but the other was strange. It sounded female. Jackie shook his head, and took another deep breath. He headed towards the living room, poking his head through the doorway.

Rama was there, chatting with a blonde woman he vaguely recognized. They immediately noticed him, and smiled, waving him over. “Hey, Jackieboy. How’re you?” They gestured to the woman. “You remember Ms. Davidson, right?”

“Um, kind of?” Jackie said quietly. He didn’t know her name, but he sort of remembered her face. “Weren’t you...the one who brought me to the hospital?”

“That was me. And please, just call me Stacy.” Despite being on almost the other side of the room, Stacy held out her hand for a handshake. When Jackie didn’t move, she slowly lowered it. “I always wanted to check up on you after that first day, but I’ve been so busy. When I finally got the time, you’d been checked out. But I got your address from that lovely Dr. Green, and thought I’d pop in today. Your...spouse—” She glanced over at Rama to see if that was the right word to use, and they nodded. “—told me you were still asleep, and, well, we got to chatting. How are you feeling?”

Jackie couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a trap. Distorter’s tricks and illusions had never been this elaborate, but he still couldn’t get rid of the lingering doubt. After a too-long moment of silence, he decided on being nice, but not too enthusiastic. “Still dealing with everything, but better,” he said, trying to put some cheer in his voice. “At least I don’t need to use the cane as much anymore.”

Rama chuckled. “Is Marvin upset to lose a kindred spirit?”

“Ha, maybe a little. Well, I’d still need to use it to stand for too long.” Jackie took a few steps backwards. “Well, I’m...going to get breakfast, now.”

“Oh. Alright, Jackie,” Rama said. “But after you’re done, can I talk to you? Nothing bad, I promise.”

“Uh—sure.” Jackie gave them a tight smile. He backed up until he hit the other wall, then turned and hurried into the kitchen.

Deciding what he wanted was a task all on its own. He didn’t want anything too difficult to make, but he also didn’t want anything too plain to eat. After a moment’s consideration, he ended up taking out the box of Michelle’s favorite cereal—sugar was a strong taste, right?—and pouring it into a bowl. He went to the fridge to get some milk, but as soon as he opened the door and reached inside the cold—

Cold air, cold concrete, everything cold enough to cause constant shivers. He’d tried to curl up as best as he could, but there was nowhere to hide. The room was stark and bare and dark. How long had it been? Must’ve been a few hours, at least, but something told him it was more than that.

Eventually, the door opened. He heard it, though there was no shift in the light. He also heard the footsteps. A hand grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head upward. “Oh no, are you cold? Well, just think, it could be worse! Next time, you could get locked inside the refrigerator. Those things are big, once you’ve removed all the shelves.” He shook his head, the motion tearing at his hair, muttering words that were muffled by the cloth in his mouth—

Jackie managed to slam the fridge door closed. He stood with his hands pressed against the door for a while, feeling his heart suddenly pound rapidly in his chest. And he took a deep breath. On second thought, he didn’t need milk.

He sat in the dining room at the table and quickly ate through his cereal. Once done, he could still hear Rama in the living room chatting with the Stacy woman, so he pulled out his phone and got lost in a coloring app for a while.

Eventually, he heard the front door open and close, and then Rama knocked on the doorframe to announce their presence—something they hadn’t always done, but something he appreciated, since he was rather...jumpy lately. “Hey Jackieboy. You good? Did she...freak you out or something?”

Jackie smiled at them. “No, no. I just...wasn’t expecting someone to show up. She seems alright.”

“She’s nice, yeah.” Rama walked over and sat down at the table across from him. “I like her. She, um...might be coming over more. Just thought I’d tell you now.”

He blinked. “Oh?”

“Yeah, she was in the country for some personal business, but now she’s decided to take an extended vacation. I told her we should meet up, and we exchanged phone numbers, so...nothing’s guaranteed, but she might be coming over sometimes.” Rama paused. “Is that okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” Jackie shrugged. “If you like her, I like her. Though I would...um, appreciate it if...if she does come over, if you’d tell me when she’ll arrive. Just so I can...prepare.” He thought about trying to laugh, but it was too much effort. “Has Michelle met her, yet?”

“No, but I’m sure they’ll get along. Stacy says she’s good with kids. Apparently doesn’t have any of her own, but she was an aunt.” Rama leaned back in their chair. “Speaking of Michelle, what are we going to do for her birthday?”

“I dunno, what does she want? Party? Presents, of course.”

Rama laughed. “Yeah, of course. We should talk about what to get her, her birthday’s only a month away.”

Jackie stared at them, then sat up straight. “Oh fuck, her birthday’s only a month away!” He hit his forehead. “God, I totally forgot! Well, no, a-actually, I didn’t...didn’t forget, I just—I haven’t been keeping track of time—well, no, I’ve been trying to, but it just—it just slips away—”

“Jackie, calm down, it’s fine,” Rama said.

He didn’t respond, too busy checking the calendar on his phone. “Shit, it’s the third, it is only a month—and it’s only a week until Anti’s birthday, I have to get him a gift too, but that’s not too hard, but Michelle has a whole party and—”

“Jackie, it’s fine.” Rama reached over and put their hand on top of his. “It’s not your fault. I can do most of the stuff this year, it’s not like I don’t have the free time.” They chuckled a bit.

“But you still have to write, because that’s your job and all, but I—”

“Take it easy, Jackieboy. You’re still...getting better, it’s not good to push yourself.” Rama squeezed his hand. “I’ll be right here if you need anything, and so will your friends.”

Jackie took a deep breath. “Thanks, Ramram. Is...is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

Rama, who’d been giggling a bit at the nickname, suddenly turned serious. “Well, no. You see, this woman called the house phone this morning before Stacy showed up. She said she was some sort of detective.”

“...oh.” Jackie nodded. “What did she say her name was?”

“Um...Kikilolo...no, sorry, Kikelomo. She also said she’d been waiting for you to call her, but since you haven’t yet, she found the home number in the phone book and called to check on you. She, uh...” Rama hesitated. “...wanted to know if you would be up for...coming in. To talk about what happened.”

“Who still uses phone books?” Jackie muttered. “Well, detectives, I guess.” He didn’t acknowledge anything past that.

“Jackie...” Rama sighed. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but...nevermind.”

“No, go ahead. Say what you were going to.”

“I just...think it would be a good idea if you told this detective about it,” Rama said slowly. “So she can help. What if...the same thing happens to someone else?”

Jackie looked down at the surface of the dining room table, tracing the whorls of the wood with his eyes. He took a deep breath. “That’s...a good point. Maybe I’ll...I’ll call her.”

“You sure?” Rama said.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “In fact, I’ll do that right now.”

He picked up his phone and stood up. Swaying for a moment, he turned and went into the living room, sitting down on the sofa. Rama followed him, watching as he dialed a number. He’d stared at the small card the detectives had given him in the hospital for so long, that he had the number memorized by now. Taking another deep breath, he listened to the ringing on the other end.

Three rings later, a voice on the other side picked up. “Hello?”

“H-hi, Detective Kikelomo?” Jackie said. “It—It’s Jackie Parker, remember me?”

“Ah, Dr. Parker, good to hear from you!” Kikelomo’s voice brightened. “I just spoke to your spouse this morning, I assume that’s why you’re calling?”

“Y...yeah, they said you wanted to talk to me? About...everything?” He glanced down, noticing his hand on his lap was shaking slightly.

“Well, if you’re up to it, we were thinking...”

Her voice trailed away. Or rather, Jackie stopped listening. He’d glanced down at his hand for a moment, curling his fingers into a fist to stop the shaking, and in the process his wrist had slipped out from under the sleeve of his hoodie. Twisted, raised scars covered them, running in a line—

“This is entirely your fault.” Though he still couldn’t describe the voice to save his life, it was far too familiar. Also familiar were the hands pulling and twisting his arms behind his back. He wanted to cry out, to struggle, but his captor was pressing down heavily on his mind, gray fog weighing down every thought and impulse. Though that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when his arms and joints were pushed into a position they shouldn’t be in.

“I’m not taking this off. For a while, if ever,” the voice muttered. One hand held his arms in place, the other tightened the plastic zip-tie around his wrists. “Though if you behave and be nice, I’ll put your arms back into a less...stressful position.” The hands let go, and the fog lifted from his mind. Instantly, his arms jerked, and he cried out, muffled sounds of pain as he tried to settle back into something more comfortable. But it was impossible. His muscles were already shaking from the effort of the unnatural position. The plastic tie was digging into his wrist—as it would continue to, for months, rubbing and eventually cutting into his skin—

“—would you be up to that, Dr. Parker?” Kikelomo asked.

Jackie blinked furiously, shaking his hand so that the sleeve fell back down over his wrist. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Tomorrow at eight a.m. At the station, if you’re comfortable with it, though I understand if you’re not.”

“No, I-I can be there. Eight in the morning, sharp.”

“Great. Me and Laurens will meet you there. See you tomorrow.” And she hung up.

Jackie dropped his phone—did not put it down, just opened his fingers and let it fall onto the couch cushions. He looked over at Rama, who waited. “So...guess I’ll be...going to the police station tomorrow.”

“At eight, I heard that part.” Rama nodded. “And you mean we’ll be going to the police station. The hospital still hasn’t cleared you for driving, remember?”

“Oh.” He’d almost forgotten about that. “Um, if you’re busy, I can call Jameson and ask him. Or take the train.”

“No, it’s fine, we have to drop Michelle off in the morning anyway, you can just come with me.” Rama smiled and nodded, as if it was settled. “Though if this is going to be, like, an appointment, you should probably get ready.”

“Um...yeah? Of course?” Jackie nodded. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, um...” Rama now looked a bit embarrassed. “I, um, noticed you’ve been wearing your hoodie a lot. And by that, I mean...all the time.”

Jackie folded his arms, feeling the fabric of the hoodie sleeves. “This is my favorite hoodie.”

“I know, but...well, you never wore it to sleep before,” Rama pointed out. “It...it needs to be washed. And while you’re doing that, you can, uh...wash yourself.”

Jackie suddenly laughed. “‘I’m washing me and my clothes,’ you mean?”

Rama couldn’t help but laugh too. “That’s a good one. Ah, rip Vine. But...well, seriously.” Their expression became serious again. “You, uh...haven’t really....I mean, maybe I haven’t seen it, but I haven’t noticed you, uh...” They stiffened, suddenly resolved. “Oh fuck it. Jackie, you haven’t taken a shower or a bath since you got home.”

Jackie had no response to that. For a moment he was frozen, staring at nothing, his shoulders hunched protectively. What was he supposed to say? To any of this? How was he supposed to tell them that he kept wearing the hoodie because he hadn’t had it...there, so if he wore it, he knew he was really back home? Let alone the whole situation with...He laughed nervously. “Are you saying I smell?”

“No. I mean, you do, but you actually smell like our cherry hand soap, nothing bad that I can pick up.” Rama shifted awkwardly. “But, uh...you might start smelling worse if this goes on any longer. By the way, I, uh, noticed we’ve been running out of hand soap real quickly.”

Well that was weird. It certainly wasn’t because he’d been using excessive amounts of their foamy hand soap to try and keep clean. Without water. No water, he didn’t ever want to see—Jackie took a deep breath. “Um...okay. I can...do that later tonight.”

“You sure?” Rama asked skeptically.

“Yeah. Definitely.” Jackie managed to pull off a smile.

“Okay...if you’re sure.” They headed towards the hall. “I’m going to go get some writing done.”

“Oh, I-I’ll come with you.” Jackie scrambled to his feet. “I’ll just—just get my laptop and headphones and—”

“And hang out in the room with me?” Rama raised an eyebrow, chuckling a bit. “The same thing you’ve been doing for the past two weeks?”

“Um...yeah, that, if it’s okay.” Jackie felt his face growing warm. “I won’t say anything or look at what you’re writing.”

“I know you won’t.” Rama gestured for him to follow them. “Well, c’mon.”

Jackie’s expression brightened a bit as he hurried after them.

———————

Later that evening, well after Rama had picked Michelle up from school and after they’d all had dinner, Jackie found himself standing in the doorway to the bathroom, clutching the sides of the door frame. His eyes were fixed on the bathtub. He must’ve been standing there for five minutes straight, and he knew it was starting to get ridiculous. He took a deep breath, and promised himself he’d step inside. And he did. One step. And then he was frozen again.

Another deep breath. And he took another step.

Another deep breath. And he closed the door behind him.

A few more deep breaths. And he walked over to the side of the bathtub.

He stared down at it, rubbing his arms. He was still wearing his hoodie, but of course, he’d have to take it off, along with everything else, to take a shower or a bath. Right? Maybe if he just left it on—and maybe if he left the shower curtain open while—

No, no, that was ridiculous. He could do it the normal way. After a few more minutes of blank staring, trying to work himself up, he reached forward and turned the handle for the...should it be hot? Or cold? Well he’d turn both on, of course, but which first? Burning, searing hot water, or shocking, freezing cold water?

Another moment passed, another deep breath passed, before his hand quickly darted forward and turned on the cold water with a squeak of the handle. Water spurted out. He slowly reached out and put his hand in the stream—

—cold—freezing—gasping, thrashing—pouring down from above—he was smiling at him, always smiling, make it stop—gasping, gasping—please stop—please—stop—

Crying out, Jackie threw himself backwards, and next thing he knew, he was out of the bathroom altogether and running down the hall. He passed the doorway to the office and slowed down, burying his face in his hands. He tried to take deep breaths. Deep breaths, deep, calm, everything’s fine.

“Jackie?” Rama opened the office door. “Is everything alright?”

“Ah—!” Jackie spun around, eyes wide with alarm, but then he smiled shakily. “Yeah, I’m just—I forgot our washing machine was broken.”

“It’s not—”

“So I’m gonna just walk down to the laundromat and—and wash my hoodie there. I-I’ll be right back!” He hurriedly walked down the hallway, not turning around to look at Rama again. He was almost out the door before he remembered he needed money for a laundromat, so he turned back around, grabbed his wallet from the table it was sitting on in the living room, and then left, not noticing how he slammed the door behind him.

———————

It was actually kind of...nice, to be in the laundromat. It wasn’t too far away from home, and it smelled clean, like detergent. Sure, the tiles of the floor were a little cold, but the music playing over the intercom was pleasant. And there were people there. An attendant at the front counter, and two other customers doing their washing. Jackie actually found himself relaxing a bit. While his hoodie was going through the cycle, he sat on top of the washing machine and checked his messages on his phone.

It looked like none of his friends had messaged him in the past few hours. They were probably busy. He knew Anti liked to start recording at around this time of day, and Schneep was probably at work. And Marvin wasn’t very good at texting at all, he preferred phone calls. Curious, Jackie sent a quick text to JJ. Hey, what’s up?

The reply was quick. Hello Jackie!! Not much rn, but I found a new spell that I could start testing soon :D

Oh, cool! What is it?

Animal transformation!! Very advanced, but I think I could handle it after some study. Will need someone else to supervise, tho, in case things go wrong. Do you want to come over?

It felt like Jackie’s heart froze. To your house? Like, now?

Well not now, like in a few days. I just thought you would be interested and would like to get out. But of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to.

In truth, Jackie hadn’t seen his friends in person in a while. It must’ve been at least a week and a half, probably more. He’d told them all that he needed space, and they were happy to accommodate. But really, he missed seeing them. Maybe he should go visit? Couldnt Marvin help you? he texted.

Well yes, he’s going to. But with this spell, it’s advised to have as many people watching as possible. Again, only if you want to, tho.

He considered the idea of leaving. Going out into the city didn’t seem so bad. Seeing friends. Going into another house—

The door was locked, which was about what he expected. The windows were boarded up from the outside, some of them with shattered glass that he didn’t dare step towards, not after what had happened with the broken mirror. He noticed a fireplace, and briefly considered ducking inside, but he was in no shape to climb up a chimney. So he settled on the door. The knob wouldn’t turn when he tried, the wood wouldn’t shudder when he kicked and pounded on it. Tears were streaking down his face. He screamed, asking, pleading for someone passing by on the street to hear or somehow see him, but nobody was coming, and then there was someone behind him—

Jackie shivered. No, JJ’s town house wasn’t the same thing as...there. But...Maybe another time, bud.

Alright, JJ replied. My door is always open, you know.

I know. Jackie paused, then sent another message. So anything else new? Maybe with Marvin? He could keep the conversation going. That wouldn’t be too difficult. Really, he just...wanted to think about anything else.

Eventually he was done washing his hoodie. Once it came out of the dryer, he immediately pulled it on. The warm cloth felt good, and it smelled like the slightly flowery detergent he’d borrowed from one of the other customers. It was nice to wear again, especially on the short walk back home.

But once he was back home...he found himself pausing outside of the doorway. It was almost like...he didn’t want to go in. But that was ridiculous. This was his house. It was a safe place. So...why didn’t he feel safe?

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to open the front door and go inside. This was alright. He could do this.

———————

The next morning, a loud noise started blaring in his ear. He bolted upright with a shriek, rolling over and falling off the side of the bed. It was a dark room—no no no no, it had all been a lie! He never went home, he was still there—but his hands were free, he had to get out of here while he could! He scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door, slamming against it. He felt for the knob, turning it. The door opened easily, and he fell onto the ground outside, surprised. That wasn’t right...also the hallway was lit up...

“Jackie?”

Jackie looked up, seeing Rama down the hall. They were still in their pajamas, but they’d shoved their red beanie onto their head. And they were looking at him, clearly concerned.

Realizing that he wasn’t where he’d thought he was, Jackie hurried to stand up. He laughed nervously. “Sorry about that. Guess I forgot I set the alarm...wow, it’s dark outside.”

“Well...it’s a little after six am in the fall, so that makes sense.” Rama walked over to him. “You...you doing okay, Jackieboy?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just forgot.” He laughed again.

“Okay.” Rama didn’t look convinced, but they moved on. “I’m guessing you set the alarm so that you could get ready for the thing you have with the detective today?”

“Yeah. I figured two hours would be enough time.” Jackie backed up. “Wow, the alarm is...still going. I’m gonna go turn that off.” He turned around and went back into the bedroom, closing the door on Rama.

He turned on the light switch, illuminating the small bedroom. How could he have mistaken here for there? This was exactly why he’d wanted the curtains open all the time. So he wouldn’t wake up and think he was back in that...other bedroom. He’d gotten into the habit of sleeping well into the daytime, so when he usually woke up, the sunlight would be shining through the glass and lighting up the room, showing that it wasn’t the same place. But now that it was early and dark outside...that was different.

Quickly, Jackie turned off the alarm on his phone and opened the curtains on one of the windows. See? He could see outside. The familiar view of the small backyard was comforting. Sighing, he went back out into the hallway.

Rama had moved into the kitchen, and they were now messing with the stove, making bacon. When they saw Jackie come in, they smiled. “Alright, you look good.”

“I doubt that,” Jackie muttered.

“Well, you’re right, you look like tired shit.”

Jackie gasped, mock-offended. “Rama, I thought you loved me!”

Rama laughed. “I’m just saying it like it is. Unless that was somehow very offensive in English, in which case I plead ignorance.”

Jackie rolled his eyes. “So...you’re making breakfast?”

“Yes,” Rama turned their attention back to the pan. “Do you want to take a shower while I do this? It’ll be a while.”

“Um...” Jackie felt like his feet were rooted to the spot. “Sure, I’ll...I’ll do that.” He took a deep breath, and stepped out of the kitchen.

Okay. He could take a quick shower. Just like...a ten minute shower. That wouldn’t be too bad. Just five minutes. He’ll set a timer on his phone. Maybe for five minutes, actually. 

Much sooner than he would’ve liked, he was back in the bathroom. Once again staring at the bathtub. Okay, starting with cold water hadn’t gone well yesterday. But he didn’t want to start with hot water, either. What if he turned both knobs at the same time? That might work. Jackie took another deep breath, and quickly grabbed both knobs with both hands and turned. Water gushed out of the spout.

Jackie laughed, a sound on the border between triumph and hysteria. Good, step one done. This time, he did not reach in to check the temperature. He’d turned both knobs at once, so that meant it would be fine! It would be fine...if he could just actually step into the tub.

Again, the thought occurred to him that he really, really didn’t want to take off his hoodie. But he would have to. Maybe he could...step inside and then take it off? Could that work?

He took several deep breaths. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, he swung his legs over the side. Splash. This was fine. The water was barely an inch deep. It was okay. Never mind the way his heartbeat had skyrocketed when he first felt the water.

Jackie managed to stand up, clutching the edge of the windowsill. He almost knocked over the bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and lotion sitting on the sill, but he managed to avoid that. Was the bathtub filling up? Well, of course it was, but would it keep filling up, or was the drain unplugged? He shook himself. It wouldn’t matter. He’d only be five minutes. Perfectly manageable.

Reaching over, he grabbed the shower curtains closed, making a familiar rattling sound. He froze.

“Looks like you need some help, then.”

“No.” Jackie squeezed his eyes shut. “No, no, no, this is fine, this is different. This is good. I have to do this. It’s fine.”

He took one more deep breath, and opened his eyes, keeping up the stream of reassurances. There was just one more step to get started. And then he’d...have to worry about everything else. Keeping one hand on the windowsill, he bent over and turned one last knob.

Water came pouring out of the shower head above.

—There was no getting away from this. The inside of the bathtub was slippery, and with his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t get out. He tried to, of course. Kicking and thrashing sent water flying everywhere. Though it made no difference. He was already soaked through, his teeth chattering from the cold seeping into his bones. The spout was pouring more water into the tub, even though it was already overflowing. How long had he been in here before he’d woken up? It must’ve been a while.

He tried once more to climb out, but his legs slipped, and his head went under the water. Gasping, he pushed himself upright again, spluttering.

“No, no, don’t get up.” He didn’t know when Distorter had gotten there, but he was here now. He grabbed his hair—it was always the hair, always, always—and twisting the strands between his fingers, shoved his head under again. There was no time at all to get another solid breath in. Under the water again, and his lungs immediately began screaming. He tried to pull away, but the grip was too tight. He had to get out, he had to breathe—

“Dad?” Michelle opened the bathroom door. “Dad, are you okay?”

Jackie shrieked, and tried to spin around. But of course he slipped, falling against the shower curtain and instinctively grabbing it. The pole above was ripped free of its supports, and came tumbling down with Jackie. He collapsed on the edge of the bathtub, the shower rod knocking him on the head.

“Oh my god!” Michelle covered her mouth. “Dad, stay there, I’ll get Ren!” She turned and ran, leaving the door open.

Jackie blinked for a bit, head aching. He looked up. Water from the shower continued to rain down, landing on his face.

It was hot this time, and he was screaming. Steam was filling the small room, thick enough to choke on. He was on fire, burning, burning, burning. He couldn’t just stay here, he had to get out! Wiggling and thrashing, he probably would’ve found some way to throw himself out of the tub if Distorter hadn’t been there holding him down. One hand on the back of his head, tangled in his hair, the other one on his back, pushing him down. And Distorter was laughing.

“You were complaining so much about the other ones, I thought this would be an improvement! See, isn’t it nice that I listened? Friends listen to each other, and try to make each other happy. Aren’t you happy?”

He shook his head furiously. Tears were stinging his eyes, running down his face. The zip-tie was cutting into his wrists again, and the hot water was agony on the new cuts. He was saying something, but even he couldn’t figure out what it was, aside from some sort of jumble of words asking for it to stop, promising to do anything if this would just stop—

“Jackie, Jackie, look at me! Jackie, you have to look at me! Can you stand up?! Can you talk to me?! Say something! C’mon, Jackieboy!”

He felt something hit his face. Blinking, Jackie looked up at Rama’s worried face.

“Okay, good, you’re looking at me.” Relief flooded their features. “Can you say something? Anything?”

Anything? He couldn’t think of anything. Except... “Make it stop,” he mumbled, dazed. “Please. Please, I’ll...I’ll be good, I promise...”

Rama’s eyes widened. They looked over their shoulder. “Why don’t you go eat breakfast, mijita? We’ll be right there.” Tiny footsteps pattered away, and they turned back. “Jackie, what’s wrong? What do you want me to stop?”

He blinked, and glanced up at the water.

It was warm now, a bearable temperature. But there was something in the water, something grainy. Salt. He knew this meant something terrible, but he couldn’t figure out what, and even if he could, Distorter was pressing down hard on his mind again. He couldn’t move.

The mirror in the bathroom was broken. Shards littered the counter. He watched as Distorter picked up one of the larger pieces. His ever-present smile widened, and then he was back next to the bathtub. He grabbed his hair, pulling him close. “This is going to hurt. A lot. But it’s what you get for being like this.”

The shard of broken mirror dug into his cheek. He gasped. Then it sliced into the other. And Distorter let go. He dropped the mirror shard, and instead picked up a plastic bucket, like one a kid would bring to the beach. Smiling wider still, he used the bucket to scoop up some of the salty water. His hand still in Jackie’s hair, he tilted his head back, and poured.

Jackie screamed.

There was a squeaking sound, and gradually, Jackie realized the water had stopped. Rama appeared before him again, placing a hand on either side of his face. “Okay, it’s off. Is this good? Do you feel better now?”

“Hmmh.” Jackie nodded slowly. His eyes darted around the bathroom. This...this wasn’t the same room. This was...his. Back at home. He wasn’t...

He started to cry.

“Oh...oh, Jackieboy, it’s okay.” Rama pulled him close, not minding how he was soaking wet. They wrapped their arms around him. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Jackieboy. Mi corazón. You’re safe here.”

For a long, long moment, Jackie just let himself be held. But after a while of these reassurances, he shook his head. “I...I don’t feel it.”

“You don’t feel what?” Rama asked gently. “Safe?”

“Y-yeah...that.” Jackie squeezed his eyes shut. “I should be, I know, but everything here just reminds me of...there. And him.” He buried his head in Rama’s shirt. “I didn’t want to feel like I was drowning again...”

“I see...” Rama muttered. “Oh. Oh Jackieboy, I’m so sorry. I should’ve known. If I’d known how you felt, I wouldn’t have forced you to—”

“You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you,” Jackie interrupted. “I—I should be normal again by now, because I’m almost better from all the physical stuff, so I should be...better in other ways, too. But I-I still don’t want to grow my hair out again, and I said I would do that when...”

“No, no, Jackieboy.” Rama rubbed circles on his back. “This is going to take a long time to recover from. It was...an...ordeal, what happened to you, and it will not just go away. Especially not if you try to push yourself to go back to some kind of ‘normal.’ Things are not normal right now, and they might not ever be the old normal again. But that is okay. Do you understand?”

Jackie let out a sob. “I’m just...so tired. Of not feeling alright when I’m here.”

“I know, Jackieboy, I know.” Rama paused. “Maybe...you should talk to someone about this? Not those detectives, I think it’s clear now that you’re not ready for that. But a therapist? You know the hospital suggested that, but you never...said if you wanted that.”

“That...that might be a good idea,” Jackie agreed.

“So we’ll try that?”

“Yeah...we can try that.”

Rama pulled away. They smiled at him. “That’s great. Now...can we get out of the bathroom? Or at least the tub?”

“Oh. Yeah, that would be a good idea.” Jackie let Rama pull him up and help him step out of the bathtub. He winced as he saw the broken shower rod and curtain leaning against the wall. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, we can afford a new one,” Rama dismissed. They brushed a few strands of wet hair out of Jackie’s face. “I have to go take Michelle to school, you know. Will you be okay home alone?”

After a moment of serious consideration, Jackie nodded. “I’ll just...hang out in the front room. And look out the window.”

“Alright, but you know you can always go sit outside or something if it bothers you.” Rama leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Jackie’s forehead. “Now let’s get out of here.”

——————— 

The next hour or so went by fairly easily. They had breakfast, Jackie changed out of his wet pajamas (though he ran the hoodie through the dryer real quick and put it back on), and Rama took Michelle to school. Jackie did indeed hang out in the front room the whole time, looking out the window and not looking back into the house. Soon, he saw the car pulling back in. Later than he would’ve expected, though. And his eyes widened when he saw someone else step out of the car as well as Rama and follow them inside the house.

“Jackie, are you okay?!” Schneep flung open the front door, immediately crossing the room to sit on the sofa next to Jackie. His eyes looked him over.

“I’m fine, uh, but what are you doing here?” Jackie asked, baffled.

“I thought you might want to see friends,” Rama explained, shutting the front door. “I also dropped by Anti’s, but he didn’t answer. Would’ve gone by the other two, also, but they live in the opposite direction.”

“They said you hit your head in the shower, are you okay?” Schneep repeated.

“Um, I am now.” Jackie had been quick to check out the injury, and aside from a bruise forming, he didn’t think it was too much of a problem.

“Good, good.” Schneep nodded. “They also said, ah...you...were not having a good time. Recently. Would you...like to talk about it?”

Jackie felt tears welling in his eyes again. “I...don’t know.”

“Alright, then we will not talk about it,” Schneep said. “But if you need a professional to talk to, I know a good therapist. His specialty is not in...this area, but I am sure he knows others who are. Or who...do. Whatever is the correct phrase.”

“Is is like, ‘others who has a specialty’?” Rama asked.

“Maybe it is ‘others whose specialty is,’” Schneep said. He nodded. “Yes, that sounds right.”

“English. The most confusing language,” Rama muttered.

“Oh, very true,” Schneep agreed.

Jackie laughed. Once. It faded away quickly as he looked around the room. “I don’t know, Volt, I just...feel like I have to get out of here.”

“Well, you can,” Schneep said. “What is the problem you are having?”

“I...it just...” Jackie waved vaguely at their surroundings. “It’s...a house.”

Rama frowned. “Well, there’s not much we can do about that. Except move.”

“I’m not asking to move, Ram,” Jackie said, tired.

“What if you stayed somewhere else for a while?” Schneep asked.

“Like where?”

“Well...” Schneep shrugged. “If you are worried about the ‘house’ part, then I live in an apartment. And it is very open, nothing like a house with rooms.” He waited for an answer. When Jackie didn’t give one, he hurried to add, “Only if you want to, of course, I am not going to make you—”

“It’s a good idea,” Jackie interrupted. “I’m just...a little worried about Michelle. I’ve been gone for so long...would she be okay with...?”

“Jackieboy,” Rama said. “She’s a strong girl. And smart, in an emotional way. I’m sure we could explain to her, and she’d understand.”

Jackie looked down at his hands, sitting in his lap. For a moment, he caught another glimpse of the mangled scars around his wrists. He quickly pulled his sleeves down over them. And looked up at the two others. “I think...this would be good, then. Only temporarily, of course.”

Rama smiled, and nodded. “Of course. When would you want to go?”

“I don’t...know. Volt, when would you want me to move in?”

“Whenever you are ready,” Schneep said. “We could even do it today, I have nothing going on.”

“Not today.” Jackie shook his head. “What about...tomorrow? In the morning?”

“That sounds good,” Schneep said.

“I’ll make a note of it,” Rama said, walking over to the other two and sitting on Jackie’s other side. “Hey...Jackieboy?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Schneep nodded. “And your friends do, too.”

Jackie blinked. And smiled. It was small, but it was real. “Thanks, guys. I love you too.”

It was nice to know that, whatever changed, however he felt, that would still be there.

[theatrelove3000]

Moving Day

Hi! I hate writing these so I am keeping it short. I procrastinated this for the last 13 days but I finally finished it! Also, @thatavengersbitch if you post about my misspelling Stark tower, you will get no Irondad.

Summary: Loki and Noelle move into Stark Tower and watch the Baby Starks.

Warnings: Idk. Swearing maybe? There are references to sex but nothing to crazy. Mostly kissing.

Moving Day

Noelle PoV:

“I think that is everything.” I say breathlessly as I drop the last box onto the floor of the bedroom.

Loki comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. Placing a kiss on my cheek and setting his chin on my shoulder, he starts to complain.“I still do not see why we cannot just share a bed chamber. I know they do not know we are courting but... well. I don’t really sleep without you.” Loki says softly.

I turn in his arms to face him and wrap my arms around his neck. “We are going to share a room. We just can’t do so publicly yet. We have to lay low for a while.” He huffs and pouts, his lower lip jutting out slightly. I laugh and press my lips to his for a moment before backing away and starting to unpack the boxes. 

“Are we going to let them believe we are simply friends? I am not sure if you have noticed but you do not look at me the way you would a friend.” He asks, picking up his box of books and starting to put them in the bookcase.

I scoff, “Me?! What about you? It’s like you have suction cups for fingers!”

“Me? Initiating physical contact? Never.” He comes up behind me and growls the ‘never’ in my ear. He is close but not actually touching me. My automatic reaction is to lean into him. It isn’t until after I did it that it occurs to me that I proved his point.

He laughs triumphantly and wraps his arms around my waist, bending to kiss my neck. Before we can go any further, we are interrupted by a knock on the door. I sigh and Loki groans, releasing me. I open the door and am met by the Iron Man himself.

“Good, you aren’t busy.” He enters the living room, looking around.

“No, no. We aren't unpacking or anything.” I mutter sarcastically. Tony didn’t seem to hear me.

He rounds on me and starts talking again. “So I have a gala tonight and I remembered that you aren’t the biggest fan of crowds so I wondered if you could watch Morgan tonight. Pete is staying here, too, so he will help out. I am willing to pay you to babysit if you want.”

“I’m down. What time are you leaving?”

“About 6:30. I can drop her here but she needs to end up in her room at my place.” He adds, glancing at a text he got.

“We can chill in the lounge and carry her to her own bed.” I say. I catch a glance at who he is talking to and what the contact name is. Spiderson. “Have you adopted the kid yet?” I chuckle.

Tony’s head shoots up to glare at me. “If you must know, I just talked to his aunt about it. I am waiting for the paperwork to show up.”

“That’s fantastic, Tones!” I hug him and he willingly reciprocates. We have been working on physical affection and he has gotten a lot better about it. “Congratulations. Have you told him yet?”

“No. I am waiting for the paperwork to ask him. Don’t say anything about it yet, okay?”

“Got it. Hey! Could I take Morgan with me to the grocery store? It would be better for us to go later in the day so that we aren’t recognized as much.” I throw an arm around his shoulders.

“We normally have things delivered if you’d prefer that than going to a store. We haven’t really been going out since the news of Sokovia broke. Quite the uproar.” He pokes my ribs, trying to make me laugh through the seriousness of his statement.

“Nah. I got this. I am better at disguises than you dweebs. Sunglasses, baseball caps, and hoodies? Amateurs!” 

“You can change your appearance at will!” Tony argues back.

“You can?” I hear a voice behind me and both Tony and I jump.

“By the Norns, Loki! That isn’t funny. You can’t just pop up behind me like that; you’ll hurt yourself.” I warn him, raising an eyebrow.

He laughs and teasingly pats my head. “But then I would never get any of those amusing reactions. And you didn’t answer my question, Noelle.”

I sigh, “Yes I can change my appearance at will. I practiced with Frigga after you fell from the bridge. I thought I told you this?”

“I feel as though-”

“Okay! Time out for thee and time out for thee.” Tony stops us dramatically, “Focus on issues or focus on me.”

Loki and I pause for a moment, looking at the man of Iron. 

“So the kid showed me Thomas Sanders and I think he’s funny. Sue me!”

“I am using that.”

“Thanks a lot, Tony.”

“Blame the kid! Will you come with me for a bit? I need some help with things only you know the answer to.” Tony tips his  head towards the door.

“Uh, sure. You keep unpacking, I will be back.” I say to Loki as I follow Tony out the door.

We head to the elevators and he pushes the button leading to his personal apartments.

“Are you sure he is safe to be around?” he asks.

I roll my eyes and sigh. “Yes. If you are worried about how he will be with Morgan, he had a son before. And from what I have seen at the garden parties, he is excellent with her age group.”

“Wasn’t his son a horse though?” 

“No!” I laugh, “He was Asgardian and looked like we do. Those stories of his ‘children’ were rumours Thor made up and spread to the Midgardians that worshiped them.”

Tony chuckles. “Whatever. If you stay with him, fine. Don't leave him by himself.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He opens the door to his apartment and I am suddenly hit with the smell of pizza and the sound of a toddler playing with her future older brother.

“Hey, kiddos!” I say as I walk in.

“Auntie Elle!” Morgan cries.

“Hi, Baby Stark! How are you?” I ask, lifting the two year old up and onto my hip. She nuzzles into my neck and Peter comes over, doing the same. 

“We are great! Morgan and I missed you. Have you brought Mr. Loki this time?” Peter questions lively.

“I did! He is downstairs unpacking the apartment. He is gonna be helping me watch you two tonight.”

Peter does one of those weird dances and Morgan squeals. The children have never met Loki but Peter really wants to and Morgan doesn’t really know the difference. She is too young to have prejudices against other people. 

I set Morgan on her feet and watch her take off back to the table where she colours while Pete does his homework. I spot Pepper enter the room and make my way over to give her a quick hug.

“Are you settling nicely? Apartment is to your liking?” She asks me, pulling away and patting her daughter’s head. 

“It’s wonderful. Thank you both for letting us move in. We really appreciate it.”

“Nonsense. You don’t need to thank us, Elle. You are family. We wouldn’t have let you live in the streets.” Tony chimes in, draping an arm around my shoulders. “Plus, free babysitting!”

“Woah, woah, woah there, Iron Man. You said you’d pay for my services.” I tease, pushing him away.

He laughs and ducks away from me, “Are you asking for compensation, Lady Darkness?”

“No,” I sigh, “But I am not totally opposed to you buying my groceries?” I cock an eyebrow at him. Pep laughs and hands me a credit card with my name on it. 

“Company card. Whatever you need, we got you.” 

“Thanks, Pep. I am going to go help Loki unpack the rest of our stuff. That is, unless you need me for anything else?”

“Nope. get outta here. See you in a few hours!”

I wave to the children and head back to my room.

~~~~~Le Time Skip~~~~~

Loki is sitting in a chair with a book open in his lap while I am in the common kitchen making tea for both of us. When I finish, I take him one of the mugs. He thanks me and lets his fingers linger on mine for a moment longer than necessary. I walk away before he can decide that he doesn’t care if the others know of our relationship. 

As I sit on the couch and open my book, I hear the elevator doors open and the patter of two little rubber soles running as fast as they could to the couch. 

“Hi!” cries the culprit of the noise. 

“Hello, Morgan! Are you ready to go to the store with me?” 

“Yes!” 

“Okay. Let me put my shoes on and we can go.” I tell her and set her on the couch next to me. 

“We will be back around one or two. Behave yourselves, don’t burn down my tower.” Tony pops his head in and sends Peter into the room.

As I lace up my combat boots, I hear Peter approach Loki. I look up to watch what the kid does.

He sticks his hand out to shake Loki’s hand. “Hi, I’m Peter!”

Loki glances at me before setting his book aside and taking Pete’s hand. “Loki of Asgard.”

Peter releases Loki’s hand and bounces on the balls of his feet. “So… are you really a… bad guy? Auntie Elle says you aren’t but you hear things.”

Loki smirks at the spiderling’s question. “Well, Peter. My villainy varies from moment to moment.”

“Okay! So on a scale from one to ten, ten being, like, killing puppies and one being ‘I’ll spit on your hotdog’, where are you right now?” 

Loki chuckles and purses his lips thinking about it. “Maybe a three?”

“Cool.” Peter says happily, “Just let me know if it gets above a six okay?”

Loki nods and whispers in my mind ‘I like him.’

‘I knew you would!’ I reply. “Okay, kiddos!” I say, out loud this time. “Are we all ready to go to the store? We need to get stuff to make cookies!”

Morgan cheers and tugs my shirt to lift her up. “Before we go… Morgan, this is my very, very good friend, Loki.” 

The toddler gives him a big smile and he waves at her, smiling just as wide at her. The four of us get on the elevator and take it down to the garage level and load into one of Tony’s cars. I drive because a car is not a horse and Loki doesn’t get to drive Tony’s Mercedes. 

~~~~~Le Time Skip II~~~~~

After making cookies, we all sit on the couch for a while and watch Morgan’s favorite movie: Frozen. Morgan is weary of Loki at first but after he uses his magic to turn off the lights and makes a glowing golden orb appear, she is totally comfortable with him. She even tells Peter, “Issa wizard, Petey!” making all of us laugh.

As the night grew later, Morgan warmed up to Loki considerably. She actually ends up crawling over to him and leaning into him during the movie when she gets tired. She falls asleep on his chest and he carries her up to her room. 

She wakes up when he sets her down and she asks him to read to her. 

“Of course, smár einn. What would you like to hear?”

She grins, scrambles out of bed and over to her little white bookcase. She pulls out the book she wants and hands it to Loki.

“Goodnight Moon?” He reads the title and she nods enthusiastically. He nods and helps her back into bed. He sits beside her after she tucks herself in. “Ready?”

“Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown. In the great green room; there was a telephone; and a red balloon; and a picture of; the cow jumping over; And three little bears sitting on chairs; And two little kittens; And a pair of mittens; And a little toy house; And a young mouse; And a comb and a brush and a bowl full of mush; And a quiet old lady who was whispering ‘hush’” 

Baby Stark is falling asleep but is obviously trying to fight it. She keeps trying to keep her eyes open after a particularly long blink. I have to admit I feel a little sleepy myself, what with my lover reading one of my favorite stories from my childhood aloud. How could you not with a velvet voice like his?

“Good night room; Goodnight moon; Goodnight cow jumping over the moon; Goodnight light; And the red balloon; Goodnight Bears; Goodnight chairs; Goodnight Kittens; And goodnight mittens; Goodnight clocks; And goodnight socks; Goodnight little house; And goodnight mouse; Goodnight comb; And goodnight brush; Goodnight nobody; Goodnight mush; Ang goodnight to the old lady whispering ‘hush’;Goodnight stars; Goodnight air; Goodnight noises everywhere.” He finishes at a whisper. She is asleep. 

“Well done.” We hear a whisper at the door. I jump slightly but Loki doesn’t react much. “She never falls asleep that fast.” Tony says, slightly begrudgingly. 

“His voice is soothing to everyone. I am half asleep myself.” I nudge Tony as we all walk out to the elevator. “Have fun tonight?”

He rolls his eyes. “Tons. I am going to bed now. Thank you again.”

“Any time, Tones.” I say as the doors close and Loki and I are finally alone.

He stands relatively close to me and lets his fingers brush my own. If I wasn’t positive of the cameras in the elevator, I would kiss him right here and now.

‘I figured as much.’ He says.

‘I want my bed.’ I groan.

‘I love when you are in bed.’ He smirks. I roll my eyes and elbow him, causing more of a bruise to myself than any damage on him. He chuckles as the doors open again and we enter our apartment. 

As soon as the door is closed behind us, my back is to it and his lips are on mine.

“Calm down.” I whisper against his lips when we come up for air.

“It is difficult knowing that I am in a society where touching you isn’t scandalous and not being able to because we have to keep our relationship a secret.” He growls against my throat. “I am touch-starved.”

I laugh and run my fingers through his hair. “I really am tired, Loki.” I whisper.

“Let me escort you to our chambers then, my love.” And with that, he scoops me up into his arms and carries my to the bedroom. He sets me on the bed and I start to stand up to change into pyjamas but he pushes me back down. He moves to the dresser and pulls out his black sleep pants and my flannel shorts. He throws them to me as I start peeling my clothes off my body.

“You didn’t give me a top.” I tell him. He pulls his own shirt off and hands it to me.

“Problem solved.” 

I laugh and tug his shirt over my head, breathing him in. He smells like tea and old books and the forest. Like home. 

Laying back, I settle against the pillows and watch him move across the rooms to catch the lightswitch. He crawls in next to me and lets me curl into his warmth. 

“You are very good with her.” I whisper.

“She reminds me of Nari. Just as happy as he was.” He mutters.

I let my hand stroke his face, comforting him anyway I can. Nari dies centuries ago but the loss of a child never heals completely. “He loved you.”

“He would have loved you, as well.”

I smile. He thinks his son would have loved me.

Loki starts humming to me. It’s an old Asgardian lullaby that never fails to knock me out. 

I fall asleep minutes later.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 85

Chapter Summary -  Danielle and Tom wake up after finally being able to sleep properly again, but the day is anything but easy.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @jessibelle-nerdy-mum​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @damalseer​ @hiddlesbitch1​ @winterisakiller​ @fairlightswiftly​ @salempoe​​ @wolfsmom1​​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom woke after sleeping soundly for the first time in over a week. Danielle was curled up against him, her fingers gripping his t-shirt as she seemed adamant to keep him next to her.

They had enjoyed their meal in the pub, it was as delicious as she had said it would be, their conversation, since they had discussed the serious matters in the car, was light-hearted and pleasant; Tom telling her about Milan and some of the clothes he had seen and Danielle telling him of what occurred in Ireland during her time there.

He shifted slightly and Danielle groaned, her head getting tucked in more next to his shoulder. "That is not an overly comfortable place to be." He smiled.

"I beg to differ, it's a great place to be."

"How long are you awake?" Tom questioned, noticing her sleep was neither slurred nor half incoherent as it tended to be immediately after she woke.

"A few minutes."

"You said nothing."

"I didn't want to, I just wanted to relax like this."

"I can relate." Tom looked around the room, it was dated, but in an antique manner. "So this is your grandparents' house?"

"Yep, my dad was born in this room."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm, my aunts and uncle too."

"Wow, what about the hospital?"

"Tom, the nearest hospital is over an hour away in Galway, my grandparents didn't have a car, my dad would have been starting school by the time she'd have walked there." Tom chuckled next to her. "It was the done thing, you had them at home with a neighbour helping."

"You said your grandparents were farmers?"

"Yeah, the farm sheds are mostly gone, but there are a few outhouses left. The fields were sold by Nan so she'd be able to keep the house after granddad died, hence why this little acre is going to be worth a pittance." She stretched. "I better get ready for the auctioneers actually." she made to move but Tom stopped her, his cerulean blue eyes filled with lust. "Tom, we can't," she warned; her voice a whisper. The night before they had been tired on their return from the airport and their stop for dinner meant they were late getting back, so they stripped to their underwear and had fallen asleep quickly.

"I know," He acknowledged, Danielle had warned him that the walls were thin at best and her cousin was in the next room and she knew her aunt would be there soon. It was one thing to be in a bed together, something she knew Bernadette would be angered by anyway, but if they were heard doing anything, that would only cause issues. "But you know what we have not done in a week?" Danielle's brows furrowed. "I have not kissed you." he leant over her, looking for permission to kiss her silently.

"If we do, will you control yourself?" She asked quietly.

"I have little choice." leaning up, she pressed her lips to his, a sensual moan escaping her as she did so. "Okay, enough; I can't, not if you are making noises like that, if you are going kiss me like that, I will…" Tom pulled back.

"Yes, I can feel that." She grinned, implying she could feel a very hard and eager appendage on her thigh.

"You can hardly blame me, I have you back." He smiled, looking down at her before his face went solemn. "I am so sorry about…"

"It's done." Tom's brow furrowed. "Though next time we have an argument, don't try and use sex as a Band-Aid."

"I wasn't trying to, I just wanted to show you how much I love you." He explained. "I hope there isn't a 'next time'."

"We will argue Tom," She scoffed, he toyed with his hair, "We just need to deal with it better."

"I like how you say 'we'." He smiled. "So many people, myself included, can be unable to look at their actions."

"No one is perfect Tom."

"I come fairly close though, right?" He joked.

"Maybe to some of your crazier fans, but I know you better." Danielle kissed him again. "I better get up for the auctioneer."

"This room is cosy," Tom commented, watching as Danielle got some clothes out of her suitcase.

"This whole house is really, wait until you see everything. We came in in darkness, you have not seen it properly yet." she grinned.

Curiosity got the better of him and Tom got out of bed too. "I know this might seem vain, but your cousin…"

"Yes, she was staring at your ass yesterday," Danielle laughed.

"You aren't…"

Danielle tied the button of her jeans and zipped them up before coming over and cupping one of Tom's ass cheeks. "Well, it just happens I am with the man that won 'rear of the year', I have to accept that that can mean girls are going to be staring at your ass from time to time. I am also aware that a considerable amount of people are somewhat interested in the this," She snaked her hand to his crotch, "And you, in general."

"Out of curiosity, is it a dislike of doing anything in your grandmother's house in general or when others are here."

"The former," Tom swore. "You sound like someone who is going to suffer 'blue balls'," she scoffed.

"I may just, I have my sexy girlfriend and a desperate want to show her in a very thorough manner, just how much I care for her in every way." He said in a sexy voice.

Danielle was about to say something else when raised voice caught their attention. "The hell?" Tom finished putting on his pants and she opened the door, as soon as she listened to the no longer muffled voices, she groaned. "Bernadette is back."

"Your aunt?" Danielle nodded. "Was she supposed to be gone?"

"Herself and her husband Kevin were supposed to come back this morning after dropping Laura and Richard to Galway," Danielle told him. "Jesus, this is going to be fifty shades of bullshit now, she is going to be an absolute bitch." More arguing began, causing Danielle to listen to the words being spoken. "Oh?"

"Elle?"

"You know what, I think we better go down." Tom looked at her in confusion, "Laura needs saving."

"I thought you didn't really like her."

"I don’t have anything in common with her and we are not close, but I don't dislike her and right now, she needs someone to take some attention off her," Danielle explained. Unsure why Danielle was being so kind as to allow herself be a scapegoat, Tom tied his shoes and walked out the door behind her, on hearing what an older woman was effectively shouting at her daughter, he immediately agreed with Danielle's choice to go downstairs.

"And where is he in all of this, or is there even a he?" Bernadette demanded of her oldest daughter.

"There probably is a he, otherwise we've got the second coming happening in Galway, fuck Mayo and their beloved sighting of our Lady in Knock." Danielle scoffed walking into the sitting room. "And could you keep it down, there are people on Croagh Patrick that can probably hear you."

"You keep out of this," Bernadette warned.

"I would believe me, only as someone with a background in a medical field, I know the damage to the health of a pregnant woman that stress can cause, but you are being so loud it is involving me and you are making a holy show of yourself, which is utterly embarrassing for me."

"What embarrassment to you, this is nothing to do with you?" Bernadette dismissed. A moment later, Tom entered the room, doing his best to seem unphased by the horrible atmosphere and demeanour. "Who is he? Some hitchhiker you found on the side of the road last night I suppose."

"Yeah, I thought it wise to bring a random stranger home with me," Danielle stated sarcastically. "This is my boyfriend, his name is Tom and I can say here and now that though his family has never been anything but lovely to me, you have, in thirty seconds, embarrassed yourself in front of him, from your manner or lack thereof to your daughter, me and indeed him, so cheers for that anyway Bernie, and if you have nothing better to say or do, I would ask that you talk and not yell as we are all in the one house, which, though you seem to think is the size of Kilkenny Castle is actually a small farm cottage, so you know, we can hear you." Danielle walked into the kitchen, not saying any more to her family as her aunt stared at her in anger, her uncle looked at Tom as if wondering how he had not noticed the other man in the time they had been at the cottage, while Laura, who had been upset, stared at him as she tried to recognise how she knew him.

Tom, who felt incredibly awkward, gave a small nod of his head and walked into the kitchen after her. "She's as lovely as you described," Danielle said nothing. "Elle?"

"I'm sorry," She gave him a smile that was more of a grimace. "I literally look like I come from absolute mud."

Tom put his arms around her, "No, you warned me about your aunt and I met Siobhan and spoke to Richard who are both normal, well, Siobhan is a tad mental, but she is a nice person, so I know that you come from a normal family, but every family has that one person, they are not always a snob, but there is something about them that makes them less than pleasant," he kissed her head. "Though she's a special case on many levels."

"You have no idea." Danielle groaned.

"This house is gorgeous." Tom looked around. "Exactly everything I imagined a small farming homestead to be."

"Look out the window." Danielle pulled the curtain back. The design of the house meant Tom had to stoop down, the way he inhaled confirmed Danielle's idea of how he would take it. "That's why I love it here."

"Now I understand why you moved to Suffolk."

"It is a lot like here."

"Did you live nearby?"

"Not too far, a few kilometres away, a bit closer the water."

"Will you bring me there?"

"If you want, today is fairly full-on, but we will have to get a few bits, so we can pass it on the way to the shops." Danielle smiled before sensing someone in the doorway, looking around, she saw Laura. "You okay?"

"Thank you."

"Where's your Mam?"

"Gone to the car to call Uncle Richard that you have some 'dirty Brit' staying in Nan's room with you."

"Well then, at least you're not the only slut for the laundry." Danielle winked.

"Were those things actually real?" Tom asked, horrified.

"Yes, they were," Danielle informed him, causing Tom to shiver. "Tom, this is Siobhan's sister Laura, Laura, this is my boyfriend, Tom." Danielle introduced them to one another. Laura waved from the doorway. "How far along…?"

"Ten weeks, I thought I wasn't suffering too badly so I could come, but she went snooping my bag and found my folic acid and my appointment card," Laura explained.

"Bitch," Danielle growled. "What's your plan now?"

"I rang Julia, she's coming to collect me, Evan is going to meet me in Galway."

"Good, look after yourself, forget your Mam, you've someone else more important that needs you." Danielle smiled.

"Are you okay, mum is going for you in this thing."

Danielle winked at her, "I can handle Bernie, I have my dad's stubbornness and my mam's bitchiness."

"She always hated your mum."

"The feeling, I can assure you, was mutual."

Laura gave another small wave. "I am going to flee while she is on the phone having a conniption." She turned to see someone behind her. "Hey."

"Ready, I have the kids in the car?"

"Yeah, thanks, Julie."

"No problem, who is…?"

"Danielle and her boyfriend."

"Danielle has a...?" As another one of Danielle's cousin's poked her head in the door, her face turned to one of shock. "TOM HIDDLESTON!"

"Who?" Laura looked at Tom again.

"You…but…Danielle…Him…"

"Yes, he is Tom Hiddleston," Danielle confirmed.

"You are going out with Tom Hiddleston, you, Danielle, my cousin?"

"Yes." Danielle nodded.

"How?"

"I lived next door to his mother, we know each other a few years."

"You never said anything," Julia stated indignantly.

"In all fairness, who'd have believed me?" Danielle laughed. Julia continued to stare. "You're married with kids." Danielle reminded her. That did not stop Julia from staring. "Go, before your Mam is off the phone." Danielle encouraged.

"Wait, so he is famous, my mind isn't messing with me?" Laura asked.

Danielle sighed. "You literally asked Siobhan two days ago if she would see the new Kong movie with you."

"Wait, he's THAT actor…how did you…?"

Danielle shook her head. "As you can see," She turned slightly, Tom still had his hand on her waist, "my extended family thinks so much of me."

"But you're normal," Laura said, as though it was some type of defence.

"Well, I feel special." Danielle scoffed. "Thank you both, you are so good for the old confidence."

"But, he was with Taylor Swift…"

"Yes, was, now I have upgraded, substantially." Tom smiled politely, bringing Danielle closer to him.

"You have all the luck," Julia growled.

"Yes, I do." Danielle grinned. "Now, we are coming again soon so if you want a proper conversation, we'll meet then, as for now, you need to leave."

She's right, come on." Julia insisted, ushering Laura to the door. "You alright to handle Bernie?"

"I'm Mattie Hughes's daughter."

"Uncle Mattie always kept her in her box."

"Now it's my turn." Julia went outside, a cold comment to Bernadette as she did.

"She'll be in in a second," Danielle sighed.

Tom kissed her head, "You're able for her." Danielle gave a non-committal noise, "Will they say anything?"

"Does it really matter?" She heard Bernadette coming in. "Here we go." She inhaled deeply.

"In my mother's room." She began in disgust.

"Well, you want to sell the house so if me having my boyfriend in her room is a desecration to her, your going against her command to not sell this house will have her turning in her grave."

"Your father would be sickened."

Danielle felt her pulse race, "Yes he would, that his sister would think she can decide for the whole family what is to happen because she wants more money, a woman that doesn't know a days work getting up her own arse and for what, to keep up with people that wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire." She spat. "My dad would only care that I am happy and three seconds in Tom's company and I know he and Mam would be delighted. You hated dad, though that means nothing, you hate everyone, and now your daughter is having a baby that will have to realise that you are a twisted bitch too, so just go and get a loan like the rest of us and leave nan's alone."

"I will do no such thing you little tramp," Bernadette hissed, "And it's going to happen, so you better get out of the way."

"I can't actually, I have a realtor on his way." Bernadette's eyes bulged. "Oh, didn't Uncle Richard tell you? I am getting the house looked at, so it can get a proper assessment. I know you had your friend's son give a price, which I know it is fifty thousand over market value for anything in the area, so I am having a guy from McCarthy's in Galway take a look at it to make sure anything that any assessment given is a proper one." Bernadette looked at her in disgust. "So, you can stay or go, but I am staying, and I am getting it priced honestly. Then we will get back to you about it."

Bernadette looked to Tom, "What are you even bothering with her for?"

"Well personally, I find Elle to be a beautiful, intelligent and wonderful person to be around, my family adore her and in truth, I find her strength and independence to be exceptionally alluring."

"Too many big words for her there," Danielle warned. "Tea?"

"Please, darling." He smiled back. "Is there any porridge?" the pair began readying their breakfast as Bernadette became more enraged at their lack of attention to her and stormed off. "Luke will have heart failure with you yet."

"I know, I am worried for him."

"Are you serious you want too…?"

"Yes," She confirmed. Tom smiled at her lovingly. "You're all clear." At that, he frowned.

A moment later, Siobhan snuck out of the back room that held the washing machine. "Phew, so what are we having for breakfast?" She asked walking over, before turning to Tom "Ooh, is Chris single?"

"He's married, remember." Danielle reminded her.

"This is Marvel, there are about thirty guys called Chris." She retorted.

[teamhook]

A Chapter a Day... Savage Heart CS AU

Yes, a chapter a day.

This story will be finished by the end of the month. :)

A love story between a pirate and his savior. An innocent, beautiful, selfless woman meets a man with no manners, no formal education and not even a last name. Will Emma fall in love with Killian once she discovers that beneath his tough exterior lies a heart-wild, but a heart of gold? This is a Captain Swan AU

Beta-ed by the lovely @ilovemesomekillianjones​

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 5: Catch and Release

Flashback - The Road of Redemption

Once the betrothal is arranged, David Nolan decides he must leave his family in order to seek out a way to rebuild his own fortune. If he's able to, he won't have to see his daughter entered into an arranged marriage. As a young man, he had been betrothed to Kathryn Midas. His father George thought that it was the best match for the family.

He had hoped to never put Emma in that position. He had gotten lucky because Kathryn had fallen in love with Frederick Knight, a business partner of her father, and she married him instead.

David had met Snow not long after, and he is forever grateful to have had the fortune of meeting his true love and marrying her. Snow tries to stop him, but he refuses to stay. He wants his daughter to marry for love not to save them. He still has time.

Torn, David Nolan travels north. He has been hearing an awful lot about a booming port town called Arendelle. David Nolan soon arrives at Arendelle in search of a chance to redeem his family's good name. All he wants is to be a hero for his daughter, his family. There is one benefit of traveling so far, James' reputation didn't follow him.

The climate there is so different from Misthaven. It's cold and somber, there's no color. Or maybe, it isn't the town at all.

He misses his family, his beloved wife, and precious daughter. Milah too, Even without knowing her that well he misses the opportunity to be there. His desire was never to take his brother's place, but to enrich her life.

He soon makes friends with a kind woman named Ingrid Foster. He only approaches the woman at the market when one of her daughters runs straight into him. The girl reminds him so much of his little duckling, his sweet Emma.

Goodness, he is so homesick. He misses his love and his little girl. She is blonde too like his princess but a little more platinum than golden, with blue eyes. He hears a woman say the young girl's name, Elsa.

Elsa is chasing her younger sister Anna. Anna is a little bundle of strawberry red hair and blue eyes with an energy that never seems to end. Young Anna can talk for what seems like hours without taking a breath.

Ingrid apologizes profusely for the two young girls, but David just smiles softly. He then finds out that the lovely young girls are actually her nieces. That reminds him of Milah. He regrets not spending more time getting to know her better before leaving Misthaven.

Ingrid and David bond over tales of family and lost loved ones. He mentions the loss of his brother, and she talks about her sister and brother-in-law's passing.

Ingrid had never found love herself but gladly accepted the responsibility of care provider to both girls when their parents had perished. That is how she became Anna and Elsa Frost's appointed guardian. She has been raising the girls alone for the last two years. Anna is 9 years old and Elsa is a year older, like his Emma.

His longing for his family isn't as bad when he is around the young girls. His Emma would love Elsa and Anna. Someday he will be able to introduce them in person. In his letters, he tells her stories of both young girls and their antics.

Ingrid introduces him to some amazing connections and not long after his arrival, he has started a small trading business. David never knew he had such a knack for this type of business.

He imports anything from silver and silk to spices. Exporting goods include honey, wheat, wool, and various types of furs.

He is truly happy with the success of the small business. Sadly though, the business is growing and prospering a little too slow for his taste. He wants to go home. He sends letters and money to Snow with Archie Hopper's help. He lives very modestly and has no need for any luxury. No sacrifice will ever be too considerable if it meant his little girl's happy ending.

Arendelle Present

David Nolan has slowly amassed enough money to live comfortably. Would that be enough? He knows Emma and Snow have never desired riches.

Milah, on the other hand, has taken to the privileged lifestyle quite well. She enjoys luxury and craves more. Whatever he sends, it's never enough. That thought breaks his heart.

Throughout the years, each time he had sent money to Snow he would ask Archie if it had been enough for their needs. Archie would simply say, "Snow and the girls are fine." Then in the space of seconds, he would always add some sort of remark about Milah wanting to go on a trip or a new wardrobe. His niece's thirst for riches was unquenchable, and Snow always gave in, the money was eventually spent on something for Milah.

Sometimes it was for trips and others for jewelry or whatever she must have. Archie keeps telling David that even his guidance is not enough to deter Snow from granting Milah all she desires. Snow and Emma are extremely sensible when it comes to their expenses. However, the guilt Snow feels because of Milah's lack of a happy childhood leads her to just about squander the little bit of extra money he was able to provide them with.

His friendship with Ingrid has endured through the years. He happily takes the role of Uncle to both girls.

Anna has found love at the young age of seventeen, his name is Kristoff and he genuinely adores Anna. He seems a little eccentric but it's clear that he is an honorable young man. Soon they will marry. That is the kind of relationship David so desperately wants for Emma.

David and Kristoff bond soon after their introduction and David even offers Kristoff a job at Nolan Importing & Exporting.

The threat of the business becoming a target for pirates indicates the success he has accomplished. There have been rumors of a pirate captain from Misthaven making a move towards David's company.

That is how David crosses paths with a dashing Navy Captain by the name of Liam Long. Liam has an impressive reputation at a young age. He has been successful in his counter attacks towards all acts of piracy so far. David befriends the young man and introduces him to his adoptive family.

The young Captain takes to Elsa quite rapidly. Elsa, on the other hand, is a little more closed off, but it's obvious the attraction is not one-sided. Elsa and Liam start by being friends and are slowly moving towards more.

Soon enough, all these lives, near and far, will be intertwined.

~~~~~

KPOV:

In a dark corner of the local Arendelle tavern, Killian is deep in conversation with some of his associates. His eagerness to conclude the transaction has blinded him to see the officers arrive. To be honest he had stopped paying attention to any sort of officials long ago. He was so used to the corrupt Misthaven legal system that would gladly look away in exchange for a small contribution.

He's finally wrapping up the once in a lifetime endeavor and soon will be able to return to his love. Suddenly chaos broke loose, and it becomes apparent that Killian Jones has become overconfident in his excitement to get back to Misthaven. There is an eruption of swords clashing, chairs breaking, and even some cloth ripping. The yelps of the injured are heard throughout the room as swords pierce skin.

The aftermath is bloody and devastating. There are losses on all sides. The dead pirates, civilians, and military are scattered on the floor. In death, nothing differentiates the men.

This is how Killian Jones finds himself rotting away inside the Arendelle prison. He was so close to returning to his love. He no longer feels the need to pillage and plunder. The infamous scoundrel had finally given his heart away.

He had found an odd familiarity to the arresting officer, and had asked one of the guards for the officer's name. The answer was a simple Captain Liam Long. He had felt a connection to the man and for some reason, he had thought of his mother.

He had been so young when his mother died, and the memories, although faint, had stayed with him. To satisfy his need for the connection and trying to never lose her completely, a total stranger had made him pause and now he was rotting away.

He should have killed the Captain when the opportunity had presented. His death would have easily guaranteed the escape of what was left of his crew on his beloved ship and he would now be back in Misthaven.

Killian comes to the realization that love only makes you weak. He had fallen in love, and now he is in a prison far away from where his heart longs to be. Weakness or not, he will find his way home, to Milah.

~~~Liam's POV:

Captain Liam Long was the pride of the Arendelle Navy. He had come from a modest upbringing. He was sent away for his best chance by his parents. He had been almost six years old when he had arrived at his Aunt Annie's house.

She had always talked so fondly of his father, John. She barely mentioned his mother. Every time he would ask if he could send a letter home she would simply say, "Sorry Liam, but your mother is very ill and she will not be able to respond."

Then not so long after his arrival, his aunt told him his mother had died. That is something a child doesn't forget, no matter how young. His father would send letters for years until he also succumbed to death.

Liam had grown up to be an exceptional young man. He was seventeen years old when he joined the Arendelle Navy. Pure dedication drove him to rise in the ranks and became Captain at 28 years old.

Now Liam and his men find themselves walking into a seedy tavern on a tip. Quickly surveying the scene and coming to the conclusion there is, in fact, a big deal closing gives them the reasonable cause they need. Liam acts fast and gives his orders, detain everyone, dead or alive.

Soon he comes face to face with a man that he feels an instant camaraderie with, it makes no sense to him. The man is a pirate; he stands for everything that is bad form. The battle is quick, and Liam gets the upper hand, he captures the notorious Captain Killian Jones.

When Liam visits his Aunt, he tells her of his latest capture. The look on her face when she hears the name Killian Jones gives Liam pause. "Why did the mere mention of that name make you white as a fresh sail? Who is he?" He asks over and over to no answer.

Finally, she gets up and reaches in the cupboard in her small kitchen. She pulls out an old letter and hands it to him. Liam takes a breath when he recognizes the handwriting, his father's.

He slowly starts reading it, and the name Killian Jones takes a new meaning for him. He has a brother. Now he remembers his mother's maiden name, Jones.

"Why are you giving me this letter now? Growing up you never once mentioned Killian to me, ever. Father didn't either in any of his letters until this his last letter. I could have gone to Misthaven to look for him! He grew up to become a pirate. He had no one!"

"I only followed my brother's instructions. He wanted you to forget about Killian. You were young enough that the memory would eventually fade," Annie sobs.

"Yet, somehow I find myself holding a letter that was meant for me to have read after his death. The telling of a sordid tale. He is still my brother and you kept it from me, why? Oh yes, I read that too. My mother made a mistake and Killian was born from it. For someone that has always told me how important doing the right thing is and to be kind to the less fortunate, you sure did not follow your own teachings."

Annie simply answered, "My brother, while on his deathbed, grew a conscience. What are you going to do?"

Liam smiled and answered, "Be an older brother and release him. My record is impeccable; I will get away with a slap on the wrist." Liam leaves his Aunt's house and heads to the prison while still holding the letter. Once he arrives, he tells the guards he needs a word with the prisoner.

Liam is guided to the well-known cells, and when he finally reaches Killian's, for the first time since they had been separated, he looks into the eyes of his younger brother.

Liam asks the guard for a bit of privacy.

"Captain Jones, I remember hearing you mention to your associates there was a very specific reason for your urgent return to Misthaven. What was that reason?"

Killian looks at the Captain who captured him, and for some reason, he knows this man will appreciate a story of love.

"I was heading back to my betrothed. I am to marry once I return. I will be leaving this life to become an honorable man." Killian answers honestly as he has nothing left to lose.

"I will personally escort you to your ship so you can make the trip. Better late than never. Before I let you go I would like for you to read this letter."

Killian looks at Liam suspiciously before agreeing. Taking the letter to the most lit section of the cell he begins reading.

Killian cannot believe what he's reading. He has a brother, and finally knows the reason why his father, no, his stepfather hated him, though the identity of his real father is not revealed in the letter.

Not long after the cell door is opened, he is quickly engulfed in a hug from his brother. He returns the hug awkwardly.

Liam explains to the guard how everything was a setup and that Killian, in reality, was the victim of foul play. It doesn't take a long time for the guard to finally agree to let Liam leave the prison with Killian in tow. His excellent military record is the reason why his explanation is not doubted.

Once back on the deck of his ship, Killian thanks his brother Liam and sets sail. Soon he will be with his love.

Tagging:

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones  @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke  @superchocovian  @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian​ @andiirivera​ @djlbg​ @nikkiemms​ @jennjenn615​ @scientificapricot​ @officerrogers​

[tvdversefanfiction]

Canary Carnage

Chapter Thirteen: Killer Carnage

Warnings: I don’t own any of the rights, content or characters belonging to any of the DC content I use within the story along with not owning any rights, content or characters within The Vampire Diaries, Originals or Legacies.

18 Rating: Moderate/Graphic displays of violence, sexual innuendos, sexually charged scenes, SMUT, strong language and potentially triggering scenes.

Pairings: M/M, F/F, M/F.

Elijah Mikaelson couldn’t help but to be left feeling uneasy following Laurel Lance returning to New Orleans permanently although he definitely enjoyed having her back he could help but feel guilty for wanting her back in a city that held so much pain for the both of them.

However it was Lucas Lance’s return or rather the arrival of his Earth X doppelganger Lucas Wayne that Elijah was much more concerned by and so he wasted very little time in getting to know the infamous Blue Canary, quickly discovering that Lucas Wayne was a far cry from Lucas Lance.

Although there were similarities between the two doppelgangers other than their looks: Both Lucas’ were smart and calculating with a determined drive to stay alive, both had complicated relationships with their biological mothers and both had managed to capture the attention of Elijah’s brother Klaus Mikaelson much to everyone’s worries considering how bad the original hybrid’s curiosity with Lucas Lance ended.

“I see your settling into New Orleans rather well Mr Wayne.” Elijah greeted the Earth X doppelganger after vamp speeding into Rousseau's, speeding over to the bar counter to find Lucas Wayne serving drinks to customers with Josh stood by his side. “I believe your also living with the Lance sisters at their hotel.”

“I’ve got this,” Lucas told Josh before walking over to face off with the noble original vampire, leaving Josh to tend to customers as he spoke to Elijah. “The pristine suit which looks pricy as hell must mean you’re Elijah Mikaelson. I’ve met your brother Klaus he’s what I call an original stalker of sorts.”

“My brother Niklaus is merely being cautious you see your doppelganger Lucas Lance proved himself rather troublesome for everyone including himself and we don’t want a repeat of that for everyone’s sakes…especially your mother’s.” Elijah informed the Blue Canary.

“I get it Lucas Lance was the villain in your story but in mine people like you, your siblings and god even my mother were the villains.” Lucas replied to Elijah. “I’m here because I have nowhere else to go and I’m beginning to believe I’m here to save this city.”

“What is it you think that this city needs saving from?” Elijah scoffed at him as he took a seat at the counter.

“First guess would be the vampires who treat humans like walking snacks, the wolves keep themselves to themselves so they’re not on the agenda and the witches are pretty hit and miss.” Lucas answered him before going over to pour the original a glass of straight whisky before walking back over and serving Elijah his drink. “I’m not coming for anyone in particular but I won’t stand by if anyone or anything comes for the few innocents around here.”

“Are you threatening me Mr Wayne or are you threatening my entire family?” Elijah asked him before taking a drink of his whisky, only to smile at the taste of this whisky. “I guess you’re the kind of bartender who knows their customer’s drink.”

“I like Sara and I’m even fond of Laurel so when they tell me somebody’s good I’ll accept it until they prove otherwise however nobody has anything nice to say about Klaus Mikaelson and his stalking of me isn’t helping me think otherwise.” Lucas admitted to Elijah. “As for your drink consider it on me as a thanks for putting your brother in line…unless you want me to do the job for you?”

“My brother Niklaus isn’t someone who is easily handled especially considering how fond he was of your doppelganger…personally I didn’t see why.” Elijah informed Lucas before downing his drink and placing the empty glass onto the counter. “I much prefer this Lucas standing in front of me however morals are a rare thing around here and they tend to get you killed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind Mr Mikaelson.” Lucas responded with a sincere smile on his face before Elijah vamp sped out of Rousseau's and out of sight.

“Declaring war on the Mikaelson’s doesn’t end well for you trust me my friend Marcel once thought he could survive that family and let’s just say you won’t see him in New Orleans anymore.” Josh warned Lucas as he walked over to his new employee. “He was considered family to them as well.”

“I’ve dealt with murderous mothers, overbearing fathers, endless superhuman enemies and literally Nazi’s in my time I’m sure I can handle a vampire or two.” Lucas boasted to his vampire boss only to be met by Josh laughing at him.

“Funny your less evil than your evil twin but your just as foolish.” Josh scoffed at the Blue Canary. “Forgive me for my advice I’m just the only person in this city that doesn’t seem to have a death wish.”

Josh Rosza was far wiser than his years but hid behind an adorable yet admit-tingly dorky personality which had served him very well as a vampire especially considering everyone around him had died and yet he continued to advise his friends to follow suit only to see them take different paths.

His first greatest loss was the love of his life Aiden who fell victim to the Mikael’s ruthless aunt Dahlia before he found himself losing his best friend Davina several times before losing her for what seemed like for good and in the last five years alone he had lost his close friend Marcel Gerard again due to the Mikaelson’s.

When Davina first returned to New Orleans five years ago Josh’s biggest fear was losing her again to a doomed fate but instead, she gave up her need for vengeance against Klaus as she fell back in love with Kol and got married.

Although the wonder witch still lived in the city their friendship had changed and became strained as Josh made clear his distaste over their handling of Marcel Gerard. Josh was determined to find Marcel being the only one who hadn’t given up on the updated original and that put a strain on his relationship with Davina Claire-Mikaelson.

However, in the last five years he had found himself forming a new friendship with the Black Canary keeping in touch over his mission to find his friend and her mission to save the world and now he had her son, or at least some version of her son, working for him and feared Lucas Wayne would either follow the same path as his doppelganger Lucas Lance or his estranged friend Davina.

Five years earlier Klaus Mikaelson had found himself growing rather close to Lucas Lance despite a determination to do anything considering the Red Canary was selfish, reckless, manipulative and calculating, all the things Klaus used to be before he became a father. It took him time to realize that what attracted him most to Lucas was how much the canary reminded him of himself.

Of course it grew more complicated as he learned more about the Red Canary realizing the meta-human was nowhere near as heartless as he’d have liked people to admit and far more troubled than even he realized unleashing Klaus’ need to want to help Lucas find his way like his siblings and his daughter helped him but unlike Klaus’ long and immortal life the Red Canary’s life was cut short.

Lucas Lance was never a great love of his life and Klaus doubted he would’ve been had they been together longer but his memory did serve as a painful reminder of a time he failed somebody he actually wanted to help and therefore the arrival of Lucas’ Earth X doppelganger Lucas Wayne only served to remind the original hybrid even more and for that reason he had been avoiding the Blue Canary like a plague until he was told to do exactly that and Klaus Mikaelson never did what he was told.

“Listen up Klaus because I’m only going to say this once under no circumstances whatsoever are you to come near Lucas. The last thing we need right now is your undead ass fucking up my sister’s chance of getting to know her son.” Sara demanded as she walked into the compound to find Klaus stood waiting for her.

“Just because my sister has grown fond of you doesn’t mean I’m not going to tear your head off for the nerve of trying to make demands of me besides the last Lucas found more danger with you than he ever did with me.” Klaus snapped back at the White Canary.

“That was different…we had just lost our mother…we thought there was no going back for him.” Sara replied with a clear sense of regret in her voice. “This is our chance to do right by him.”

“The only problem with that logic is Lucas Wayne isn’t Lucas Lance which means he’s not your nephew or your sister’s son. You’ve just let some stranger straight into your home because he looks familiar.” Klaus told her with a hint of judgement on his face, knowing Sara, Laurel and Rebekah were to blame for Lucas Lance’s demise.

“He is Lucas though or at least the way Lucas used to be until everything went to shit. This version of him is kind, loyal and heroic just like the baby brother I grew up with.” Sara admitted to the original hybrid as tears formed in her eyes. “He may have a different history and he may not know me or Laurel but he’s so much like the Lucas I used to know it makes me feel…”

“Guilty that you gave up on the original?” Klaus butted in, all too eager to make the canary feel even more guilty. “He’s not your second chance Sara and he’s not going to make it right how you and your sister plotted to murder your own blood all because he had an episode or two.”

“He murdered our mother that’s not an episode or two!” Sara reminded Klaus, furious that the original would dismiss her mother’s death like it was nothing, also furious that she gave up on her adoptive brother so easily and that he was reminding her of how she failed him. “Please just stay the hell away from this Lucas!”

“I’ll take it into consideration Miss Lance.” Klaus lied, knowing damn fine he was now going to make himself well known to the Blue Canary.

Klaus Mikaelson initially had no intention to have any contact with Lucas Wayne following their initial meeting weeks ago but after learning how much Sara Lance wanted him to stay away he just couldn’t pass an opportunity to put the White Canary in her place still loathing her for murdering his elder sister Freya Mikaelson and holding her just as responsible for Laurel in the parts they played in Lucas Lance’s death.

In fact, Klaus genuinely believed he had moved on from Lucas Lance’s death but the idea of his family being so quick to embrace a purer version of him angered the original hybrid far more than he thought it would and now he wanted to teach the Lance sisters a lesson for dishonoring the memory of a man they helped murder.

Caitlin Snow was a powerful woman long before she discovered she was a meta-human working as a well-respected bio-engineer at S.T.A.R. Labs alongside her fiancé Ronnie Raymond who was a structural engineer for the company but everything changed for her upon her fiance's mysterious disappearance eventually turning her from a loving and caring woman to someone with an ice cold heart as Killer Frost was born.

Caitlin chose a life of villainy following her heartbreak after discovering her powers of thermometric cryokinesis taking on the villainess mantle as Killer Frost leaving Caitlin Snow and all she worked for behind which led to her becoming enemies with some of the most powerful heroes including the Black Canary.

Killer Frost had a long and complicated history with Laurel Lance having once been best friends with the canary only to later become obsessed in bringing her down always failing until the death of the multiverse gave her an opportunity to arrive on Earth X, a world which followed none of the rules that the other worlds did in the now dead multiverse.

The realization that the Black Canary currently residing within Earth X wasn’t the Black Canary from her world hadn’t stopped her obsession especially with Killer Frost’s new friends, all of which were determined to destroy at least one if not all three of the canaries within New Orleans.

“In such a big and busy city, it’s quite remarkable to find such peace in a quiet little place like this.” Frost stated as she walked into the quiet Rousseau's bar to find Lucas Wayne stood behind the bar wiping down the counter. “Either you’re a really bad bartender or people are scared to come into this establishment.”

“I guess you’re officially stopping me from having to close anytime soon.” Lucas greeted the long white-haired woman as she walked over to the bar and sat down at the counter. “You look strangely familiar…have we met before?”

“Nope you don’t exist in my timeline or my world which also doesn’t exist anymore.” She replied, making it clear to the Blue Canary that she was from the multiverse. “This world is quite intriguing, but the only downfall seems to be there’s one too many Lances around here.”

“I’m a Wayne not a Lance but I’m more interested in who the bloody hell you are?” Lucas wondered just as Laurel walked into the bar looking horrified to see Killer Frost, who instantly rose from her chair and turned around to face the Black Canary.

“Killer Frost…you’re supposed to be long dead not to mention the world itself died after you!” Laurel said in shock, clearly uneasy to see an old foe.

“I’m not exactly the Killer Frost you know but I hate you just as much if not more.” Frost revealed to Laurel, as she found herself stood between both canaries. “If you think your Earth X son was the only one to jump ship before the death of the multiverse than you thought wrong.”

“You should leave now before you wind up just as dead as your other doppelgangers!” Laurel warned Frost, with a look of hatred in her eyes, a look Lucas had never seen from the Black Canary but had seen from the Black Siren one time too many.

“My father told me all about you, you were long dead on my Earth too but you were quite the formidable foe before that…in my world you were my twisted mother’s closest confidant so it only makes sense you hate the good versions of her.” Lucas piped in, once again showing a vast knowledge about the multiverse.

“You’re so much more than just a looker if only you were a bit redder instead of blue we may have got along!” Killer Frost told Lucas before lifting her hand in his direction shooting out a large ice blast from the palm of her hands as Laurel released a canary cry in her direction, the ice blast hitting Lucas and throwing him into the glass cabinet filled with alcohol destroying it before throwing Lucas down to the ground, as Laurel’s canary cry sent the villainess Killer Frost flying across the bar before hitting a wall and crash landing onto the ground.

“I warned you to get the hell out of here Caitlin!” Laurel shouted at the doppelganger of her nemesis. “Now I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”

The Blue Canary and Killer Frost both rose to their feet at the same time, the Blue Canary ready to charge at the villainess white haired woman while the white haired woman had all eyes on the Black Canary but before anyone could attack Klaus vamp sped into the bar, speeding all the way over to Lucas before grabbing a hold of him and vamp speeding out of Rousseau's with the Blue Canary leaving a confused Laurel Lance standing alone in the bar with her nemesis Caitlin Snow.

“Well I was planning on killing you both, but I suppose I’m not totally pissed it’s just you and me now!” Killer Frost told the Black Canary before raising her hand to release another ice blast in Laurel’s direction, just as Laurel released a large canary cry in the direction of the villainess.

If Laurel was going to win against Caitlin Snow’s ruthless alter ego Killer Frost then she had better get her head in the game but with the doppelganger of her son just being kidnapped by Klaus Mikaelson she couldn’t help but worry about Lucas Wayne and what the original hybrid had in store for him.

Klaus Mikaelson had learned a lot about the canaries during the five years in which Sara and Laurel had clashed with him and his family and although his siblings had built friendships with the Lance sisters he had kept wary of them deciding to instead study the canaries and learn their weaknesses.

Klaus was forever paranoid about betrayals and potential feuds after all his family’s worst enemies tended to be close allies at some stage before turning against them and so he found it wiser to study all that came into his life knowing how best to take them both down if he needed to, which he always did.

He knew Laurel’s canary cry was pretty powerful so much so that it destroyed the hollow and their blood was special enough to restore Elijah’s memories and he also knew the canaries could die just like Lucas Lance died or be turned into a vampire like Sara Lance.

The canaries were powerful but only as powerful as their cry or at least that’s what Klaus believed and thanks to a brief alliance with Nyssa al Ghul he knew exactly how to deal with a canary cry putting the Blue Canary exactly where he wanted him.

“This should give us some proper time alone!” Klaus stated after vamp speeding into Lafayette Cemetery with Lucas and putting a power dampening collar around the son of batman’s neck. “Don’t want you getting any advantage over me with that damn canary cry.”

Lucas wasted no time in grabbing a hold of the original hybrid’s arm as he bent himself over and threw Klaus over his back until the vampire hit the ground with force while Lucas twisted his arm, popping the arm out of its socket before harshly stomping his foot down on Lucas’ throat, easing off just enough to let the hybrid speak.

“I don’t need a cry to kick your ass Klaus!” Lucas shouted at him before Klaus grabbed a hold of the Blue Canary and flung him over his body forcing the canary to land on the ground next to the vampire, as Klaus popped his arm back into its socket after a series of groans.

“I hate you!” Klaus furiously stated to Lucas as he climbed on top of his body, preparing to strangle the canary only to be headbutt in the face by Lucas, followed by Lucas kicking the vampire upwards, before Klaus finally found his footing as Lucas stood up to face him.

“You don’t even know me!” Lucas snapped back at Klaus before the original hybrid sped towards him, only for the Blue Canary to deliver a series of punches across the vampire’s face before Klaus threw him to the ground, Lucas grabbing a hold of Klaus, making the vampire fall on top of the canary.

“I…” Klaus said before pausing as he looked into the eyes of the Blue Canary, as hidden feelings began to rise and suddenly the vampire found himself kissing a stunned Lucas only for Lucas to respond by grabbing the vampire and throwing his body over his own, making Klaus hit the ground harshly once again as Lucas rose to his feet.

“What the hell do you think your doing?” Lucas questioned Klaus, as Klaus quickly stood back up, both looking as confused as the other.

“You just look so much like him…” Klaus reluctantly admitted to the canary. “I guess the only reason I want you dead is because your forcing me to feel something I don’t want to feel.”

“I surprisingly understand where you’re coming from I mean I’m not going around trying to kill then kiss people but it’s not easy seeing a doppelganger of my mother whose nothing like her so I can only imagine how hard it must be to see a doppelganger of somebody you were once in love with.” Lucas replied to Klaus, surprising the original with his kindness.

“I was never in love with Lucas Lance…I cared for him, but I never loved him.” Klaus revealed to the Blue Canary, admitting not only to him but himself. “I don’t normally try to be a hero, but I really wanted to save him and not because I loved him but because he reminded me of him.”

“Sara filled me in on how you used to be a lot worse than what you are now which is saying something if this is the filtered down version.” Lucas joked with Klaus as he sat down on a nearby wall. “I guess my doppelganger reminded you of just how bad you were, how far you’ve come and how much better your life is because of it. You wanted that for him because if he could get it someone who was probably nowhere near as ruthless as you once were then in some way it’d be like you deserved the life your living but instead he got took down and you can’t help but think maybe you should’ve been taken out too.”

“Are you seriously trying to psychoanalyze me because I can promise you, I’m nowhere near as deep as you’re assuming, I am nor do I regret any action I’ve made in the past.” Klaus argued with Lucas, refusing to admit there was some truth in Lucas’ words.

“Sometimes heroes last long enough to become villains and sometimes villains find their way back to heroes once more but that’s not on anybody if they don’t find their way back least of all a thousand year old vampire whose actions are morally questionable on a good day.” Lucas explained to Klaus, as Klaus sat down next to the Blue Canary, listening to him despite looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. “I’m not Lucas Lance but I’m not some pillar of purity and goodness either we live in a grey world Klaus although admittedly redder here on Earth Blood. I can’t say what happened to my doppelganger was the right way to handle him nor it was the wrong way but what I can say is he’s not me and he’s not you either…it’s time to let it go.”

Lucas was right about Klaus holding onto the past righter than he could have possibly known as Klaus realized the words coming out of this Earth X doppelganger were wise and if he was wise, he’d take the Blue Canary’s advice.

It was in that moment for the first time since Lucas Wayne had arrive on Earth Blood that Klaus Mikaelson had started to see the Blue Canary for who he was and not just who he reminded him of.

Laurel Lance’s history with her world’s Caitlin Snow was very different to the one she had currently found herself coming face to face with: they had never been friends just enemies and it wasn’t the death of Ronnie Raymond which led to the birth of her world’s Killer Frost it was the death of Barry Allen which was her world’s first flash before Wally West took over the mantle.

Laurel may have never seen a good side to Killer Frost but she knew people who did such as Cisco Ramone and Wally West and it was those friendships that constantly put her at odds with the villainess making the Black Canary very wary of the manic meta-human but not fully unaware of her potential to be redeemed.

The Black Canary and Killer Frost’s fight lasted for a long time much to the expense of Rousseau's which had been destroyed from the inside out with broken tables, chairs and bottles spread across the floor with planks of wood and glass scattered everywhere as Laurel found herself beaten, broken and bruised while laid on a floor covered in the ruins of Rousseau's as Killer Frost stood above her looking victorious.

“I’ve always wanted to kill Laurel Lance, but I never thought it would be this easy.” Frost said while taunting Laurel, ready to kill the Black Canary. “It’s just a shame you’re the one who made it here but oh well every Laurel’s practically the same even the not so pure ones.”

“You are better than this Caitlin! I may not know this version of you but every version of you becomes like this because you lose someone you love.” Laurel told the white-haired woman, hoping to appeal to some humanity within her. “I lost my son my actual son and it broke me more than I ever thought it would but what your doing isn’t going to bring them back it’s just dishonoring their memory and what they meant to you.”

“Yeah here’s the thing I no longer care about anyone or anything.” Killer Frost replied as she magically formed an ice pick above her hand from out of thin air before Lucas sped into Rousseau's and clipped the power dampener collar around the white-haired woman’s neck before throwing her to the floor much to Laurel’s relief.

“You’re not going to believe me when I say this, but Klaus Mikaelson actually comes in handy from time to time!” Lucas declared as he walked over to Laurel, offering his hand to her and helping her get back onto her feet.

“Funnily enough I do believe it he always did have a soft spot for that face.” Laurel admitted to Lucas before the both turned to look at a pissed off Killer Frost whose was slowly getting back on her feet as her white hair turned brown.

“What are we going to do about little miss frosty?” Lucas asked Laurel who surprised him with a smile on her face as she watched Killer Frost’s hair turn completely brown.

“We’re going to help Killer Frost find Caitlin Snow once more.” Laurel revealed to a surprised Lucas, who was in awe of this version of his mother’s sense of forgiveness and kindness.

“Okay…but we’re going to need a cage or something to keep her in the meantime.” Lucas suggested just as Klaus sped into Rousseau's with a sinister smirk on his face.

“I may have a prison or two I’d be willing to lend the canaries…pending negotiations of course.” Klaus was eager to inform them all.

“Of course, you do!” Laurel scoffed while rolling her eyes, as she noticed Lucas and Klaus sharing a smile that made her feel very uneasy.

Laurel Lance had to deal with a lot since arriving on Earth Blood firstly the Mikaelson’s, then her twisted brother, then the Mikaelson’s and her brother only to then find out that baby brother of hers was actually her son before having to watch him meet a grizzly end but as she stood in the ruins of Rousseau's feeling the chemistry between Lucas Wayne and Klaus Mikaelson she had finally realized this was her all-time low.

The Black Canary was never a fan of the original hybrid, but she couldn’t argue with his weird sense of loyalty towards her son Lucas Lance even if it did confuse her she was happy someone was on his side especially considering she couldn’t be. However the Earth X doppelganger of her son Lucas Wayne was kind, honorable and loving, everything she believed Klaus Mikaelson wasn’t and the last thing she wanted was for the Blue Canary to end up just as bad if not worse than the Red Canary.

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 49-51

Chapter 49

So the queen of Adhira, Lira’s aunt, is, like, super disappointed with Lira and her shenanigans. Lira finally explains that while she loves her aunt, she doesn’t want to be her, aka refuses the role of planetary queen once more. I honestly have no idea what reasons Alara has for making Lira her heir, because Lira has evidently never shown any interest in politics. Why she won’t just make Lon her heir? He seems loyal and eager. Idk I guess feminism or something. Oh and we need a character conflict for Lira. Doy.

Anyhoo, Alara says that she’s been in contact with General Cortas and knows about his deal with the crew. She says she can instead offer Lira a position as a pilot for Adhira’s new starfleet. Which they apparently didn’t have before? She says they need a stronger presence “in the sky” if there’s another war, and like 1) that’s not the sky and 2) you mean to tell me that this entire planet of randos that do in fact train pilots judging by Lira’s existence ... doesn’t have a starfleet already?

Oh, but the ship Alara offers Lira is “the fastest model in the Mirabel galaxy”. The fastest model of ... what? Is it a frigate? A cruiser? A fighter? We don’t even get any made-up specs or even a general specialization, all we get is that it’s the fastest and coolest ship ever that everybody wants right now but it’s not even out on the market yet! Because that makes sense for the government that just admitted they had a minuscule starfleet to have. I would’ve accepted it if Alara tied the existence and offer of the ship back to her correspondence with General Cortas and the ship was a diplomatic gift from Arcardius, but it’s specifically mentioned to be Adhiran.

So ... these guys don’t have a meaningful “presence in the sky”, but they DO have the tech, the budget, and the marketing strategy to make the most wanted and advanced starship in the galaxy?

Oh, and this starship? Lira would pilot it as a commercial ship. So the queen wants to invest in a bigger starfleet ... except this one extra fancy ship she’s willing to throw away for regular trade? I mean I guess it makes sense if she doesn’t want to put Lira in danger but does want to sweeten the deal with a sick starship, but then I have to wonder why the previous info about the general and the lacking starfleet is even in here at all?

This whole situation is just doubt dot jpeg.

We find out that the offer only stands this once, and only if Lira immediately removes herself from her current mission and also leaves her crew to stay on Adhira. Apparently the super sexy cool new ship hasn’t even been built yet, it’s literally just a sketch, but Alara has set aside funds to start construction. But it’s also famous enough of a ship already that everyone wants it?

I’m no politician but the logistics of it all make my brain hurt. It’s just really ass-backwards, is what I’m saying. It really feels like Shinsay just wrote one word in front of the other without any consideration of the words that came before.

Oh and Lon is here also. I’m only saying this because he bites his lip and his blood is blue and I need you to remember this for future reference.

Lon and Alara tell Lira to pick them and ditch her friends because her friends are bad for her and tbh are they wrong? Are they though? Lira leaves to go mope about how uninteresting her character conflict is and finds Alfie and Dex.

Alfie sat beside him on the couch. The AI was oiling his gears while Dex oiled his insides with a bottle of Griss.

I had to read about Dex oiling his insides and now so do you.

Wait ... is Dex butt-chugging this Griss? Dex, you know that’s bad for you, bud?

Lira asks Dex if there was truly no way to save both Andi and his dad, to which Dex replies something appropriately dramatic that nobody would actually say out loud (something something tearing galaxies something), and Lira mopes out of that room as well in grim understanding of their symbolically similar situations before the chapter ends.

Chapter 50

We’re back with Andi. The girls are all “training” aka playfighting out in the open and inconveniencing the people around them while Andi angsts about how broken and sad and black her soul is and how everything is her fault including Valen’s and Lira’s pain and how much she just LOVES these WONDERFUL WOMEN she calls her crew and how HARD it was to open up to them after Kalee and Dex but now that she has she would never give them up for ANYTHING.

It goes on for literally pages and I’m not going to include it because 1) it’s pretty much a rehash of shit we already know and have seen her angst about and 2) the fact that Andi’s thoughts and character “development” is happening in her mind alone and the other girls are doing something else makes this feel really jarring and ironically disconnected. There’s nothing wrong with having emotional chapters where not much “plot” happens, but maybe have people actually, like, talk and interact with each other? Instead of just having one character think about how deep and damaged they are? Idk, just a thought.

Anyway, after several pages of pointless nonsense, Andi finally starts crying and tells the other girls that the new info from Dex and Valen’s whole deal has been taking a toll on her. She also apologizes to Lira, which, bonus points, and to the others for getting her into this. Unfortunately Lira undoes the apology and Andi’s attempt at taking responsibility and admitting to wrongdoing by saying she doesn’t need an apology and only needs to hear Andi complain so she can be the emotional sponge and fortune cookie advice dispenser of the group just like Shinsay always intended.

Now, to be fair, this section is honestly quite touching and I wish Shinsay had focused more on the friendship instead of ... well, literally everything else. Observe:

“I tried to kill [Dex]. What if I’d succeeded?”

“You didn’t,” Breck said. Her dark eyes met Andi’s pale ones as she spoke. “And now you know his side of the story, and he knows yours. You both did terrible things, broke promises, ruined a mutual trust. You can hold on to your anger, if you think that makes you strong.” She smiled a little then. “But brute strength isn’t everything, Andi. Trust me, I would know.”

Man, Breck is really wasted on this book, isn’t she? Or at least the concept of Breck. There isn’t much of her to waste in the first place, lbr.

Andi admits that if Valen tries to kill her when he wakes up, she’s not sure she’ll want to stop him. Um. Shinsay ... It’s time to close the laptop and go outside I think. You are not equipped to handle this.

The crew tells Andi that they can carry some of her burdens for her, which is very sweet, if only Andi showed the same thing in return. Right now all she’s done is mope around, think about how much she loves her crew because they’re just so supportive, and then unload her emotional baggage on them. To her credit, Andi seems hesitant and tells Lira she’s there for her too. Lira’s about to spill the blue beans when Alfie interrupts to tell them that Valen is awake. Lira says that whatever she was about to say isn’t important in what I assume is supposed to be dramatic irony? But watch this actually get forgotten and resolved without her input, making Lira some sort of prophet.

All in all, not the worst chapter, but definitely bloated.

Chapter 51

Andi is pacing back and forth and trying to hype herself up before the meeting with Valen. We find out that apparently, the entire planet of Adhira has no military, because they’re just SO peaceful? Yeahh ... no. The only way I’d accept that is if they had, like, some sort of mind-control abilities and networks of spies and agents in the governments of every other planet nation to prevent any conflict to turn on Adhira, which I doubt since they’re supposed to be the peaceful hippies of the story. It would be mad hardcore if that were the case, but alas, I fucking doubt it my dudes.

Besides, wasn’t Adhira in the war against Xen Ptera? Or did they sit it out but still celebrate the victory as if they helped? What’s going on there?

Also, it’s been four years since Andi last interacted with Valen, which I belive makes her 18-19? Meaning Dex was an older teen when he boned down mid-teens Andi. Ok ok ok ok.

Anyway, today is the day of Revalia, which the United Systems celebrate as it marks the end of the Cataclysm. Andi is not hyped. She’s also not hyped for the Intergalactic Peace Summit that’s happening.

[...] leaders from each of the four systems would be present to symbolize that peace still existed in the galaxy, and would continue to exist between the planets that made up the Unified Systems.

So ... Um. I know Shinsay probably think that “intergalactic” is a really cool sci-fi word and they’ve heard it used before so they had to put it here because it sounds science-y and official, but ... intergalactic means between galaxies. Not between star systems or planets. Given how the summit is defined, interplanetary would be more fitting because they’re all coming from different planets from different solar systems all within the same one galaxy. (Not entirely sure what fancy word would be used for multiple systems, but my point still stands.)

The secondhand embarrassment is strong in this one, y’all. Who edited this?

Gilly finds a Marketable Fuzzy Space Pet and convinces Andi to let her keep it, naming it Havoc. It’s impressive how not charmed I am.

Dex enters with Valen and Andi thinks about how different they are and how fucked-up Valen looks.

What horrors had he lived through?

Being thrown down a flight of stairs, for one. He was rotting at some point also. You know, from all the torture you know he went through for two years? Feels like you should probably know that. Oh, sorry, was that a Deep Rhetorical Question?

I should also mention that Alfie is getting on my nerves big time, which is frankly impressive on Shinsay’s part since I’ll eat up any naïve and emotionless robot character, gears and all, yet somehow they’ve written him to be obnoxious in their attempt at making him charmingly socially inept. I think the fact that I’m supposed to be finding him cute or funny is what’s making me really dislike him. Observe:

“I find the name quite fitting, Breck,” Lira added. “Every beast deserves a strong name.”

“Allow me to assist,” Alfie added, walking over on silent feet. “Havoc is defined, in the Great Universal Dictionary, as ‘great destruction or devastation. Ruinous damage.’”

[...]

Valen inclined his head at Alfie. “My deepest apologies that you’re programmed to work for my father.”

Alfie’s unblinking eyes stared at Valen. “I am detecting strong levels of distaste toward...”

“That’ll be enough, Alfie,” Dex interjected. “Why don’t you go check on the ship repairs? Memory could probably use some company.” 

At the sound of Memory’s name, Alfie’s posture straightened. “I find my gears are warming at an alarming rate. Excuse me.”

Is this supposed to be cute? Endearing? What is the point of Alfie in this story? Why is he here? It feels like his entire reason for existing is to be the silly comic relief and the stereotypical weird AI with no concept of normal interactions. I’m also hardcore weirded out by how horny he is for Memory. It’s making me genuinely uncomfortable for reasons I can’t explain.

Why do we need another comic relief guy? Dex, Gilly and Breck, and now the fucking Havoc (the weird shitty pet thing) all serve that purpose already. WHY DOES ALFIE EXIST?!

Anyway, Alfie leaves and Dex suggests that they all have an “adult conversation” (lol) and the chapter ends on Andi finally greeting Valen and it’s very dramatic.