#even stuff in the dryer I can’t let it sit in the drum because it gets damp

[atlafan]

every time I have to text my landlord to tell him something needs to be fixed I feel so bad, but isn’t it my right to reach out to the landlord about maintenance things? I’m not used to doing this without someone else to consult the issue with, maybe y’all can help. This is what I sent him after sending a hello and sorry for being a pain text:

The basement floor has gotten wet near the washer and dryer, probably from all the rain. The little carpet next to the dryer was saturated. It’s really moist down there so a few of my boxes have gotten a little moldy. That’s on me for keeping cardboard directly on the floor. I’m planning to move some stuff to the dryer side of the basement, but it’s hard for me to stay down there for long periods of time because I have asthma. There’s a ton of sawdust, so between that, the little bit of mold, and how moist it is it’s just not great. I feel bad even complaining because I know how lucky I am to have the extra storage and the on-site laundry, like I’m super grateful for it. I just wanted to bring some of this to your attention. Idk if there’s a way to rent like a large de-humidifier just to dry the place out or something? I have a small one that I’ve been using in the sun room. I had it in the basement but I was emptying it like every four hours. I’d even pay to have a cleaning service come if it comes to that but I wanted to reach out to you first

[watermelonlipstick]

Losing

This was written as a request for the eternally lovely @samwisethegr8​. Hope you like it, baby! Idk where the chipmunk stuff came in, I must’ve had forests on the brain or something. As always, I’d love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Losing

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3283

Summary: Losing her hair following a spell makes it challenging for the reader to feel like herself. 

Warnings: swearing, fluff, hair loss

           Dean knows better, by now, than to say anything about the beanie you straighten as you get into the backseat, giving you some soft eyebrows in the rearview mirror that are maybe worse than if he’d kept joking about it. Typical, for the spell making your hair shed like some cartoon pulling out fists in a temper tantrum to be one of the few you’d seen hang on after the casting witch died. You’d been doing research for weeks now on ways to get it back with nothing to show for your efforts except a few stomachaches from attempted potions (and one influencer-inspired collagen and ACV concoction you’d dumped out after feeling ridiculous). Sam had convinced you that getting back into the swing of things might make you feel better, and was trying a little too hard to be cheerful next to his brother in the front seat.

           “The weather’s so nice today—sometimes you forget how good the sun feels, being in the bunker for a while.” He flashes a smile over to Dean expectantly, willing him to say something encouraging too. Dean looks exasperated for a fleeting second before relenting.

           “Yeah, uh, great day for a drive.” You catch the tail end of his tiny eye roll in the rearview mirror.

           “If you guys are going to treat me like an invalid I’m out of here.”

           “Invalid? I just think it’s a nice day out,” Sam says, trying for indignancy through his put-on ignorance and not quite hitting it. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he’s able to hold onto it for about 2 seconds of eye contact before his face relaxes into more familiar kindness. “Okay, fine, sorry. I’m just happy you’re coming.”

           He’s unphased by your glare back at him, keeps up the sympathetic puppy dog eyes because he knows your snark is coming from a pit of frustration and self-consciousness. Just like Dean’s tenderness of omission in not saying anything about it today, it’s simultaneously comforting and annoying. You feel a lump forming in your throat. “Stop looking at me like that.”

           “Like what?” Sam seems a little hurt.

           “Like I’m dying or something. Both of you. I’m serious, you’re making it so much worse.”

           Dean catches your eyes in the reflection. “Kid, you just seem so fuckin’ bummed. It’s only hair, it’s probably even going to grow back.”

           “Easy for you to say, you’re not going fucking bald! So, are we going or are we doing group therapy in the driveway all day?” You can hear that you’re being too harsh but can’t muster up the energy to stop, flopping into the seatback with your jacket balled in your lap. Sam and Dean exchange a look and Dean turns the key in the ignition.

           It really is a nice day, sun streaming through the windows of the Impala and cutting the still-slightly-chilly spring air just enough to be pleasant. You make a conscious effort to let go of your indignation, counting farm houses on the way out of town as a sort of meditation. Dean starts singing along to the Deep Purple tape playing, and when he catches a glimpse of your smirk he really hams it up, banging out the drum line on the steering wheel and pulling faces that would make Billy Idol jealous. After a few bars you can’t help yourself and start to laugh, the excited accomplishment that breaks through Dean’s act to light up his eyes sending a pang right to your heart. He holds his fist up in a facsimile of an invisible microphone to Sam, who plays along. By the end of the next song the Impala is rocking like Madison Square Garden, radio up so loud you can barely hear your own thoughts as you scream-sing until you’re laughing so hard you can barely catch your breath. The music changes over the next few hours,  the volume turned down for snippets of conversation or debriefing about the upcoming case from Sam then back up for one of Dean’s favorite B-sides, and by the time the sun is going down you’re genuinely only thinking of how hungry you are while Dean turns into a diner that stands alone sharing a parking lot with a strip mall.

           Dean’s two steps toward the restaurant by the time Sam has the back door opened to offer his hand to you. He looks surprised when you don’t take it right away, standing there awkwardly for an extended beat with his palm outstretched and his head tilted like a curious dog.

           “I’m not going in.”

           Through the windshield you can see Dean stop and turn back toward the car, jamming his hands in his jacket pockets like he thinks he’ll be waiting in the chilly evening for a while. Sam wraps his fingers around the top of the door and runs his other hand through his hair. “Babe, come on, it’s just some stupid diner. No one will even notice.”

           “Sam, I’ll notice. Forget it. I’ll wait here, you guys go—grab me a sandwich or something.”

           His lips tighten into a sympathetic but frustrated line and he looks over the car to his brother, who shrugs without taking his hands out of his pockets. Loud enough that you can hear him through the windows and around the car, Dean calls out, “How’re you planning on talking to the sheriff if you won’t even walk into a diner, hot shot?”

           You match his volume. “Good point—I’m not planning on talking to the sheriff, I’m staying in the motel.”

           Sam takes a deep breath and winces. “You don’t know anyone here and we’ll never see them again. You’ve gotta eat something. Please?”

           “You’re not the fuckin’ Elephant Man, you’re a chick wearing a hat,” Dean offers loudly, absolutely not helping. Sam shoots him a look that says as much and clenches his jaw. Dean shrugs and opens his jacket with pocketed hands as if to say ‘what?’ Sam jerks his chin toward the diner and Dean nods, spinning lazily on his heel to walk in alone. When Sam moves forward, you slide over on the bench seat to allow him to sit next to you in the backseat.

           “It’s just hair.” He says, low and soothing, just above a whisper. “You’re still the same person.”

           You let your head roll back onto the seat behind you. “You don’t get it—my hair was the only pretty thing about me.”

           Sam’s face contorts in disbelief like you’ve just told him not only are unicorns real, but you have one in your duffel bag. “What?��

           “You heard me,” you repeat, training your eyes Dean through the diner window, winking at a woman in her mid-twenties whose cheeks are full and cherubic under bright, friendly eyes. You can see even from here that she bites the inside of her lip to keep from beaming back at him, holding onto his gaze for a beat longer than necessary before taking her tiny notepad back to the kitchen.

           Sam shifts to put himself more directly in your line of sight. “Baby, the pretty thing about you is you. These hands are beautiful because they’re yours, because they, I don’t know, put an extra dryer sheet in with the laundry so it smells amazing, scratch Dean’s back when he can’t fall asleep. Your eyes are the first ones I want to see every day, not only because they’re beautiful—and don’t argue with me about this for once, please—but because they’re the same ones that always seem to notice that last symbol we’re looking for after I’ve read a stupid book of runes 400 times. Your lips—” he pauses, touching your lower lip with his thumb so light it could be a feather, “—are beautiful because they’re the only ones that I can hear your voice through. Was your hair beautiful? Of course. And it’ll be beautiful again.”

           “You don’t kno—”

           He rolls his eyes. “I do know, but even if it isn’t, you’ll still be you. You can borrow mine if you want.” Sam’s eyes are so earnest, so sweet as a tiny smile tugs at his mouth, that you can’t help yourself as you lean forward and press your lips to his. The way he kisses you back is such naked affection and relief, slipping a hand around the side of your neck to cradle your jaw, that it’s hard not to believe it’s how he really feels. 

           The moment is broken when Dean opens the driver’s side, startling you enough to take a sharp intake of breath against Sam’s cheek. “Quit sucking face and look alive,” he says, nonplussed as he hooks an arm over the front seat to hand you a paper bag filled with Styrofoam boxes.

           “That was, ah, fast,” Sam replies, and it’s almost steady enough to hide the stammer.

           “3 BLTs, not like they fucking built the Great Wall. Waitress in there said there’s a motel in the next town over, 10 minute drive.” He waits until you have the bag supported with a hand on the bottom and one taking the handle from him. Sam squeezes your thigh once before slinking back into the front seat, but Dean’s eyes stay trained on you. “Touch my fries and die.”

           You manage to keep your mitts off everyone’s fries until you pull into Walnut Suites a few minutes later, thinking to yourself it sounds like some kind of hotel for squirrels and hope sort of absentmindedly it’s one of the kinds of motels that decorates to a theme; even when they’re stupid—maybe especially when they’re stupid—anything to break up the monotony of thousands of motel rooms over the years is welcome in your book. Sam coming out of the office dangling a room key attached to a plastic walnut is evidence that you might be in luck, and you grab the food as you get out of the backseat.

           Dean already has your duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “This feels light; you bring your gun?”

           You wait a second to see if he’ll figure it out himself, but Dean only raises his eyebrows and juts his chin out like you haven’t heard him. “Hardly need a blow dryer now, do I?”

           If there was more light in the parking lot you’d probably have been able to see Dean’s cheeks flush as he cleared his throat to cover. “Uh, right. Do still need a gun though, so as long as you’ve got that.” He offers Sam his bag and shuts the trunk as his little brother reaches the parked car.

           “Apparently we’re in the chipmunk room.” Sam’s going for above-it-all but he knows you secretly like this kind of shit and drops the key into your palm with a wink. “It’s the only one with queens instead of fulls.”

           “Whatever,” Dean grumbles. “I’m hungry enough I’d eat a damn chipmunk.”

           “What does that even mean?” Sam asked, annoyed in a way only a sibling can be as the brothers trail after you to the room.

           “That I’m fucking hungry, what do you think?”

           “A chipmunk is like, the smallest animal you could possibly say. It doesn’t make any sense; anyone could eat a chipmunk.”

           “You trying to chow down on a chipmunk kabob, Sammy? Aren’t you like 99% vegan now? It’s the principle of the thing.”

           Sam rolls his eyes in over the top sarcasm. “Yeah, I’m vegan now, that’s why I’m about to eat a BLT with mayo, dumbass.”

           “Bacon doesn’t count. And it’s about timing; you said chipmunk room, I said I could eat a chi—you know what, I’m not explaining this to you. You either understand comedy or you don’t.”

           As you open the door, the light from the room illuminates Sam’s bitch face kicking back on his neck. Winchester bickering had already put a smirk on your lips but the décor was everything chintzy you could’ve hoped for; forest embroidered quilts on the beds and a chain of hand-holding chipmunks that appeared to be hand painted in a waist-high border around the walls. The bed frames were made of those stripped logs that could look very chic in otherwise minimalistic Scandinavian architecture, but here they looked impossibly cute and dorky with chipmunk stuffed perched on each bedpost. Dean seems not to notice any of it at all, throwing his duffel on the bed closest to the door and snatching the bag of food out of your hand.

           The three of you eat watching Alf while sprawled on various furniture. When the half-hour flips the programming over to Mork and Mindy, you offer Dean the rest of your fries and get up to stretch your back. “Either of you dying to use the bathroom? I want a shower.”

           Both shake their heads so you grab your ditty bag and head to the reasonably sized bathroom, trying not to be startled at the large Chip and Dale portrait painted onto the back of the door that reveals itself in the mirror when you go to set your things down. It’s clean and the water pressure is good, which is far more than you can say for many similar places you’ve stayed in, and you linger in the shower longer than you need to, shaving your legs twice for an excuse to stay under the water and out from under the oppressive weight of your self-consciousness here where the boys can’t see you. Washing your remaining hair as quickly as possible and chuckling once, mirthlessly, at the lingering reflex to squirt the amount you used to need into your palm, you finally leave the shower with only momentary nausea at the amount of hair you have to grab from the drain to let the water empty. For the ever-growing list of pros and cons for shaving your head you’d been building in your head: no more shucking these sopping hairballs into tacky little wastebins across America. You wrap a towel into a turban around your head more as a reflex of propriety than anything, marveling again at the amount of rituals there are—were—around hair. Maybe being unburdened by that would be freeing. And it feels sentimental in an annoying pseudo-useless way staying attached to the hair that remains, like lingering in the victimization of this stupid spell when you could just as easily shave your head and be done with it, become some kind of Tank Girl badass version of yourself and pretend you’re too cool and tough to care about girly shit like ponytails and the way Sam held his nose to the crown of your head sometimes, took a deep inhale of you and smiled so you could feel it laid on top of your hair like a tiara more precious than any you could imagine. In any case it won’t be right now, so you throw the loose t-shirt you’d gotten from your bag over the towel on your head and slip on some athletic shorts before heading out to the room.

           You were in the shower for even longer than you thought because Dean is in his standard “just-before-sleeping-on-the-road” outfit, having lost the flannel he wore that day as well as his belt. The jeans will come off just before he gets in bed, pooled on the floor with neatly set boots beside the mattress so he can jump into them like a firefighter if he needs to, an old habit that you’d stopped making fun of the Winchesters for when it actually had come in handy a few times. Sam usually folds the jeans and sets them on top of his boots next to your bed. Dean grabs one of your hands and flips it over for inspection as you walk by. “Surprised you’re not a raisin. Going to send this county into a drought.”

           You roll your eyes good-naturedly and toss your toiletries on your bag as you head to your bed, watching Sam brush his teeth in the kitchenette sink. Dean follows with a tight handful of clean tee and boxers as Sam comes back to you, the younger Winchester grabbing the back of his collar to tug off his t-shirt and toss it on top of his bag in one fluid motion before folding back the sheets and getting in. Over your shoulder, the shower turns on and you can hear Dean humming through the door. The beanie you’d taken off was exactly where you’d left it, and you flipped your head over to take off the towel on your head and replace it with the hat as inconspicuously as possible.

           “Babe, you don’t—” Sam starts softly, stopping when he sees you turn back to him with your jaw set.

           “Can we just go to sleep?” you reply, almost succeeding at keeping the sting out of your voice. He bites his lip and nods mostly to himself, flicking the covers on your side back in invitation. You crawl in, turning your back to him partly to be wrapped up by the warm shell of his body and partly so he can’t see your face. A large hand covers your hand where it lays on your sternum, intertwining your fingers in his and pulling you back into him a touch. After a long minute of listening to the shower-dampened noise of Dean going through Skynyrd’s greatest hits, you feel Sam’s voice through the knit on your head.

           “I feel like we’re camping.”

           “What?” you ask, genuinely confused.

           “You wearing a hat to bed, you only do that when it’s freezing.”

           “I really don’t want to tal—”

           “I know you don’t, but I just…you’ve been boxing me out for weeks now. Listen, I know I don’t get it, I know it’s not the same as if it had happened to me, and I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this, but I don’t care about your hair. I mean—fuck—not like that, I care about it because I care that it’s affecting you, but I just wish I could get you to understand that nothing about the way I think of you has changed. You’re always going to be the sweet, funny, badass girl I’m beyond lucky lets me hang around. It’s like this spell took your hair but the real punishment is putting this wall up around you.”

           You take a deep breath to steady your voice and realize there’s no way you’re going to be able to talk without it cracking, instead just yanking the hat off your head and letting it fall to the ground beside Sam’s jeans. He hesitates for a second before pressing his face to you, and you can feel the smile against your scalp. It’s a struggle, but you manage not to wince when he kisses a spot you know is effectively completely bald.

           “You smell good,” he murmurs against you, and you don’t know why it’s that simple statement, after all the flowery poetic things he’s said for weeks and especially today, but there’s something about the total acceptance, no hint of the disgust you thought was inevitable no matter how hard he tried to insist wasn’t there, that melts you. It’s enough to unwrap some of the defensive prickliness you’ve built up, and the amount of emotional energy you’ve been putting into keeping it there dissolves the way it sometimes does the second your body realizes the adrenaline of a hunt is no longer needed and you crash in the backseat of the Impala. The heat from Sam’s body and the delicate sound of his heavy breathing on your neck puts you to sleep before Dean’s out of the shower.

-

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[ssfghfrrggf]

Heavy is the Head Chapter 2: Let’s Go Find Our Lost Lovers

ao3 link

“Casey? Casey? Hey! Captain, wake up!”

Casey wakes up to Stella shaking him and shouting at him, only it doesn’t sound like she’s shouting everything is muffled by the ringing in his ears. But he can tell she’s yelling by the expression on her sooty face.

“I’m fine,” he grunts and sits up, his head spinning as he looks around the darkness around them trying to make out some familiar feature in the beam of his flashlight. Everything hurts like he’s been sent through the spin of a dryer, and his skin feels hot and sharp- like the unbearable shriveling hot it gets when a room is getting dangerously close to flashing over. “What the hell happened?”

“We almost roasted what happened,” Stella pants and wipes her face with the back of one gloved hand. 

Casey nods and blinks his eyes a couple times. He remembers now. They’d been on the landing of the second sublevel when the fire had come through the door, Stella had tackled him out of the way and that’s the last thing he can picture clearly.

“The stairs came down on top of us,” she says, shining her flashlight up the stairs behind him to reveal what looks like a wall of cement blocking their way back up.

“The good news is, we made it to the third floor,” Casey says, directing his own light toward the number painted on the wall. They must’ve rolled down an entire flight of stairs; it definitely feels like they did. He’s bruised in places he didn’t know he had. “We can get to Severide and Brett now.”

“I don’t know if that’s going to happen Captain,” Stella breathes and shines her flashlight on the doorway. The door has been blown off its hinges and on the other side of it is a solid wall of debris.

“Damn it,” Casey spits and punches his fist into the hard ground; he barely even feels it. The more he thinks about Sylvie being stuck down here the more his chest tightens out of fear and panic. “We have to get to her.”

“Captain-”

He grabs up his halligan and hauls himself to his feet. There’s no telling if Severide got to her, for all Matt knows she’s trapped somewhere on the side of the slab of concrete blocking the doorway. A halligan is no sledge hammer, but he’s done more with much less. He starts his swing, but Stella jumps in front of him grabbing both his arm and the shaft of the bar.

“Woah there cowboy!” She says urgently and restless his arms down. “You can’t just go whacking away at stuff! I know you want to get to Brett, but you don’t know what that thing is supporting. You could cause a secondary collapse!”

“I have to find her!” Casey argues and tries to yank his tool free from Stella’s hands, but she tightens her grip.

“Casey. I know you want to find her! Trust me! Kelly’s out there somewhere in all this mess too! I want to find him just as badly as you want to find Brett, but we can’t just go blowing through debris. That blast probably brought this whole place down. We gotta use our heads, Captain!” Stella shouts and yanks the halligan out of his hands.

“But…” Casey starts to protest but gets hit with a sudden wave of dizziness and collapses back onto the hard ground, everything around him spinning.

“Captain!” Stella’s cry is distant and gets drown out by the ringing in his ears intensifying.

***

Gallo’s been his fair share of blazing infernos, but the heat wave that came off the parking garage as the gas ignited was like nothing he’s ever felt before. It was blistering…

 Cruz grabs him and shouts something at him, but he can’t make out a word of, just a deafening ringing in his ears. The world is spinning around him and his eyes are stinging from the heat and the dusty smoke, but he can make out blood coming out of the squad firefighter’s ears, and he looks as dizzy and out of it as Blake feels.

“Cruz are you okay?” he shouts, or at least he hopes that’s what he shouted, as he grabs hold of Cruz’s arm and turns his gaze toward the parking structure that’s now more of a pile of rubble than anything else. It’s hard to make out much more than that through the smoke and dust.

The squad firefighter tugs at Blake’s arm to get his attention, and says something as he points at his ears, but Gallo can’t make out a word of it. Part of him just wants to pass out, everything hurts and his head is spinning. 

“I can’t hear you!” Blake tries to tell him, and Cruz gives up on whatever he’s trying to say and grabs Gallo the shoulder strap of his air pack and hauls him to his feet. It’s not until he’s upright that he realizes just how bad his dizziness is, the only reason he doesn’t fall over is because Cruz keeps him upright as he tugs him back toward the relative safety of the trucks. As they stumble toward the trucks Mouch emerges from the dust to meet them.

***

“Are you two okay?” Mouch asks as he grabs onto both Cruz and Gallo. Neither of them look okay. Gallo looks like he’s about to fall over and they're both bleeding from their ears. He can also make out a couple burns on the firefighters.

“I think the explosion ruptured his ear drums,” Cruz pants, both of them nearly collapsing onto Mouch. “He can’t hear anything-

“Okay,” Mouch says, scanning both of them for further injuries. Gallo is definitely burned but nothing too bad. “Let’s get both of you to 61-”

“Mackey-” Cruz starts to ask, still talking a little louder than necessary. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if the squad firefighter also ruptured and ear drum.

“She’s fine!” Mouch promises and throws Gallo’s arm over his shoulder. The kid looks wholly confused.

“What’s happening?” he shouts, and the sound of the kids voice hollering in his ears makes his head hurt. He hadn’t been nearly as close to the explosion as Cruz or Gallo, but the blast still did it’s number on his head. 

“Chief, I got Gallo and Cruz,” Mouch says clicking on his radio to let Boden know he found them. “There in one relative piece.”

“Any sign of Severide, Casey, Brett, or Kidd?” Boden replies, he sounds relieved that at least two out of the six MIA firefighters are safe. 

“No sign of them, chief,” Mouch replies looking around the hazy air. The four of them had still been inside when the building went up in flames, so he’s not sure why he’s looking around hoping to see them. There’s a good chance he won’t see any of them ever again, not in one recognizable piece anyway.

***

Brett groans and tries to sit up but there’s something heavy laying on top of her; her head is pounding like nothing she’s ever felt before and she’s not entirely sure she’ll be able to keep herself awake- or even if she wants to try. Everything hurts and the weight bearing down on top of her isn’t helping; it’s not a solid weight like concrete or cement, it’s softer than that… like a body pinning her face first on the ground, but there are things poking her too. She blinks open her eyes and finds herself staring at a hand flopped a couple inches from her face. There’s a yellow reflective strip around the cuff of the thick black coat sleeve that the hand is coming out of. 

“Casey?” she whines and tries to roll to get him off of her, but he’s too heavy. She doesn’t really remember much of anything after sending Mackey up to radio to help, but she’s pretty sure Casey was down here with her, after all it would be him to come get her.

“Casey, please,” she chokes desperately and tries again to wiggle herself free from the weight bearing down on top of her. It’s hard to breath and she’s not sure if it’s from dust and smoke or the body crushing her. She knows just from being around the station that anyone in full bunker gear could easily weigh well over 200 pounds, and if she didn’t believe it before, she definitely does now.

“Casey, wake up,” she gasps, her fear running deeper than just not being able to breathe or being crushed the firefighter laying on top of her. Casey isn’t saying anything or moving, and her mind leaps to the worst possible explanation for it all. 

“Casey! Please!” she begs not really for herself anymore, she just wants him to be okay- to move or talk or just not be dead. She pushes at the ground trying to push his weight off her, but after a couple seconds of struggle she gives up and lets her forehead flop against the rough dirty floor. She has to get out from under him, not so much for herself, but for him. He needs her help. Sucking in a deep breath, Sylvie digs deep and mustering what’s left of her dying strength she uses her legs and arms to push herself onto her side and tip Casey’s dead weight off of her. There’s a heavy thunk as his air tank hits the ground. It’s only as she claws herself upright that she realizes it wasn’t Casey laying on top of her at all. It was Severide.

“Severide?” she chokes and leans over the downed squad lieutenant. She can’t tell if he’s breathing through all of his gear, but it doesn’t look like he is. “Severide, stay with me buddy.”

She presses her fingers against his neck in search of a pulse, he flinches as he hand makes contact with his hot skin.

“Brett?” he groans and blinks his eyes open as he attempts to lift his head off the floor.

“Yeah, it’s me, but take it easy.” It’s hard to tell in nothing but the dim light of his flash light, but she’s pretty sure he has first and possibly second degree burns on the back of his neck. There’s also a deep cut on the side of his ear going from above one eyebrow to the top of his ear. And it’s oozing a significant amount of blood, nothing life threatening at the moment, but it’s also not good.

“I’m fine,” Kelly grunts and pushes her hand away from him as sits up and unbuckles the straps on his air tank.

“You don’t look fine,” Sylvie observes skeptically, but she’s too tired and her head hurts too much to put much effort into her argument. “You got a nasty cut on your head.”

He frowns and gingerly pokes at the side of his bloody head. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Severide can you please just let me look at it?” Sylvie requests. He’s probably a long ways off from passing out of blood loss but it’s better safe than sorry since they appear to be trapped and he’s the one who knows how to get them out.

He sighs and rolling his eyes hands her a flashlight so she can examine his injury better.

“We’re still in the elevator,” he comments as she scoots closer to him.

“We’re in the elevator?” she asks and looks at him in shock. She hadn’t really taken much time to examine her surroundings, but now that he says it… “What happened to the two victims?”

Severide ducks her gaze with a guilty expression. “They were still out there when the explosion happened.”

“You left them!?” Sylvie chokes in a mix of shock and anger. “Sev-”

“It wasn’t like that Brett,” Severide snaps interrupting. “I was the only one down here and the only way I was getting all three up was to put you guys on the elevator. I moved you first because you were the only one who didn’t have air. Then the gas blew.”

Sylvie sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose trying to stave off the pounding in her head; she feels bad for jumping down Kelly’s throat. She should’ve known he wouldn’t leave two victim’s on purpose- really she did know it. Everything is just so scrambled right now and her head feels like it’s going to explode.

“Sylvie, are you okay?” Severide asks with gentle concern and gives her shoulder a little reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m fine-”

“Lying to each other isn’t going to work, Brett,” he prompts.

“Fine, my head hurts and I feel like I just got crushed by  250 pounds of firefighter,” she says teasingly. She knows Kelly did what he had to, to protect her from the explosion and she’s grateful for it even if she still feels like a pancake.

Severide snorts and shakes his head. “I wasn’t about to let one of my paramedics get baked. Besides Casey would probably kill me if something happened to you.”

“And Stella’ll kill me if I let you bleed out from that head wound,” Sylvie replies and pulls out her pocket knife so she can cut off the long sleeves of her shirt. They’re not the ideal bandaging, but nothing about their situation is ideal and all her supplies are lost somewhere outside the elevator so her sleeves will have to work for now.

***

“You two need to take the next available ambulance to hospital,” Boden says, taking a second to divert his attention from the scene to Cruz and Gallo.

“No way, chief,” Cruz says standing up indignantly, his lieutenant and friends- members of his family are still down there beneath the rubble, and he’s not going anywhere until he knows they’re safe regardless of the pounding in his head and how muffled everything but the ringing in his ears is. Gallo doesn’t say anything to back him, just glances between the two of them looking really confused, and still dazed; Ritter taps him on the shoulder and shows him his phone screen, evidently typing out the conversation because after a second he looks up defiantly at Boden.

“I’m not going anywhere either!” He says a lot louder than he needs to.

“You’re both going to the hospital to get checked out, that’s an order!” Boden shouts, with a kind of foracicity that’s rare for him. “I don’t want to hear any more argument about it! Go with 57.”

“Yes chief,” Cruz mumbles and dips his head submissively before grabbing Gallo by the arm and pulling him up off the back bumper of 61. The truckie tries to pull back, but Cruz tightens his grip and tugs him along. He’s tempted to sneak off and help in the search behind Boden’s back, but if he does that Gallo will follow, and there’s no disputing that he needs to take a trip to the hospital to get his ears checked out.

They haven’t made it far before Gallo gets stumbly like he’s dizzy.

“Hey buddy, we’ll take it slow,” Cruz says comfortingly despite knowing the young firefighter can’t hear him, and puts one of Gallo’s arms over his shoulder to support him.

“Is my hearing going to come back?” Gallo asks, in a loud whisper.

Cruz looks him in the eyes and nods. He’s not really sure if it’s true, he hopes it is. He’d never admit out loud, but Gallo’s a damn good firefighter and a good kid with a bright future in the cfd ahead of him. It’d be awful if hearing loss got him booted. He wishes he could give Gallo more assurance than just the head because he doesn’t look convinced, but any words Cruz tries to say to him will be lost. He gives Gallo another nod yes, and then continues helping him toward the waiting ambulance.

***

“Damn it,” Stella hisses and throws down her halligan, it clatters loudly on the landing of the fifth sublevel, and Casey lifts his head from where he had it rested between his knees to squint at her.

“Should I repeat the speech you gave me?” he says dully, trying and failing to poke fun at her.

“No,” she replies in frustration and sinks to the dirty ground, leaning against the metal door blocked shut by debris.

“What’s eating you, Kidd?” Casey asks, leaning his head against the railing of the stairs.

“I didn’t tell him,” she says, tipping her head back against the cool door.

“Didn’t tell him what?” Casey questions lifting his head up to look at her better.

“My promotion came through and I didn’t Kelly. Which is kinda hypocritical, isn’t it? I’m always trying to get him to tell me stuff, and now I’m doing the same thing he used to do,” she replies sighing heavily. “And now we’re stuck down here, and he’s stuck down here and it’s all so messed up…”

“Your promotion came through?” Casey breathes, like he barely believes it. “Stella that’s great, you can tell Sev when we get out of here. He’ll be thrilled.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to take it,” Stella interrupts him and closes her eyes bracing herself for whatever speech her captain is about to give her. Gallo had a good point this morning. If she doesn’t want to be talked into taking it than that more than likely means she doesn’t want it, and shouldn’t take it.

“You don’t want to leave 51,” Casey says understandingly and rests his chin on his knees. He looks too tired for much speech giving.

“Yeah,” Stella says. 51 has become her family and she can’t even properly process the idea of not working there anymore.

“You haven’t told Sev because you don’t want him to talk into taking it,” Casey adds with a sigh.

“It’s stupid, right? I’ve worked so hard for this and now suddenly I’m thinking about turning it down,” she says in frustration.

“I don’t know, family’s family, Stella. But whatever you want, Kelly will back you. I know that much.”

“I was gonna tell him, you know? We just got this call before I could…”

“He’ll get it,” Casey mumbles and closes his eyes.

“Hey, how’s your head feeling?” Stella asks sitting up straight and examining Casey from where she’s sitting.

“Awful,” Casey mutters.

“We should keep moving,” Stella says. He seems to be getting more drowsy and they should keep moving so he doesn’t have the chance to sleep.

“In a couple minutes.”

“Now captain,” Stella insists and grabbing up her halligan she stands up. She offers Casey her hand. “Come on. Let’s go find our lost lovers.”

Casey cracks a dazed smile and takes her hand.

***

“Looks like we dropped,” Sylvie says, peeking out the hatch in the top of the elevator and scanning the shaft with Severide’s flashlight as she stands on his shoulders. The only number she can see is a six a couple feet above them which means they dropped three floors.

“What’s the closest floor?” Severide grunts through gritted teeth. Holding her up is probably more of a struggle than he’ll admit outloud.

“Six,” Sylvie reports. She can see the doors a couple feet above them.

“How high up is it?” Severide asks.

“Five or six feet,” she calls back.

“That’s doable,” he mumbles to himself like he’s calculating something in his head. “I’m bringing you back down.”

“I’m going to need a knee up from you,” Severide says as soon as Sylvie has her two feet back down on the elevator floor.

“You realize how crazy that sounds, right?” Sylvie asks, not entirely convinced he’s serious.

“Yeah, but I need to get up there,” Severide replies. “Well we both do. But I can’t reach that high without a boost and you can’t pull me up if I send you up first.”

“But you can pull me up,” Sylvie finishes for him. In theory it makes sense, but she’s not entirely sure she’s physically capable of hoisting him up.

“I don’t need much of a boost,” Severide says, eyeing the ceiling. For a guy who has the side of his head sliced open he’s very lively. “Just a push off your knee and then I should be able to reach and pull myself up.” 

Sylvie’s not entirely convinced he can make it, but it’s their only option so they have to try.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure Brett,” Severide says encouragingly and gives her a little pat on the shoulder.

“How’s your head feeling?” Even in the dim light of the elevator she can make fresh blood dripping down the side of his face from under the makeshift bandage wrapped around his head. 

“It’ll be fine,” Severide replies with a nonchalant shrug. “We’ll worry about it once we’re out of this elevator shaft, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” she agrees and getting down so she’s on one knee directly under the roof hatch. “Then let’s hurry up and get out of here.”

“You ready?” 

“Ready,” Sylvie says, and grits her teeth as he puts his boot on her knee and pushes off. His weight is only there for a second and then he’s hanging in the air from the hole in the ceiling, he’s only there for a second before he pulls and wiggles his way up through the hole and disappears.

“Alright, hand me up my halligan,” he says poking his head back through the hole and reaching down to her with one arm. She picks up the heavy metal glorified crow bar and hands it up to him.

“Now it’s your turn.”

She reaches up with her hands and jumps, grabbing Severide’s hands before she falls back down, as she does the whole elevator groans and shifts like it’s about to fall.

“Severide…” Sylvie chokes questioningly, looking up into his face as he starts to pull her up.

“It’s fine, Brett,” he grunts, hauling her up through the hatch. “The elevator’s not going anywhere.”

“You seem pretty sure about that,” she pants as she flops down on the roof of the elevator roof next to Severide.

“As long as we get out of here quickly, we’ll be fine,” he says standing up and studying the door to the shaft next a couple feet above them.

“What if it falls?” she asks, unsure about the stability of the structure they’re standing on.

“We’ll be out of here before that happens,” he promises, but it sounds a little like he’s trying to convince more than just her. “I just gotta get that door open, which shouldn’t be too difficult.”

***

“Got it,” Severide says triumphantly and pushes his halligan down between the doors of the elevator to stop them from closing again. He knows this elevator predicament isn’t even half the struggle they have ahead of them, they still have six stories worth of rubble they have to make their way up, but he lets himself revel in the small victory a little. 

Brett gives him a congratulatory pat on the back and a weak smile; he’s pretty sure she’s hurting more than she’s letting on which makes two of them. His head hurts and the burns under his coat are hurting a little more with each passing minute, but he’s gotta keep it together and get them out of this mess.

“Ladies first,” he says and intertwines his hands to make a step for the paramedic to give her a little boost up. She probably doesn’t really need it, but it’ll help her out and make it easier on her.

“Thanks Kelly,” she replies and steps into his hands and clammers through the elevator doors as he gives her a little push. Kelly pulls himself up after her and pulls the halligan free from the doors as he clears the door frame. 

The air is thick and hazy with smoke and he can see the red flicker of fire coming from a couple places around them. 

“How are we going to get out of this?” Sylvie breathes hopeless and glances over at him with scared blue eyes.

“One step at a time, Sylvie,” Kelly replies and tucks one arm around her shoulders to pull her into a reassuring hug. “We got this, okay? It’ll be a walk in the park.”

Brett lets out an amused snort and shakes her head, but doesn’t look encouraged.

“Come on, you were a farm kid. It’ll be like climbing around in a hay loft,” Kelly adds, trying to encourage her. “It’ll be fun.”

This time he gets a real smile out of her.

“See? You just gotta think of it as something less scary than it actually is. It won’t get in your head that way.”

“Do you realize how long it’s been since I climbed in a hay loft?” she asks.

“Isn’t that one of those things they say is like riding a bike?” Severide jokes.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Brett says through gritted teeth and puts on her determined face.

“Here, put this on,” Kelly says and plops his helmet down on top of Brett’s head. It’s a too big and falls over her face. 

She pushes it back up with a grin on her face. “Does this make me a member of the squad?”

“An honorary one, sure,” Kelly says and adjusts the interior head band on the helmet so it will stay put on her head. “And put these on,” he adds, handing her his gloves. “There’s all kinds of stuff laying around you don’t need to be cutting your hands on.”

His gloves are absolutely too big for her, but there’s no adjusting them so they’ll have to do.

“Okay, let’s get out of this hell hole,” Sylvie says, slipping her hands into his gloves.

***

“Maybe there’s a way we could keep you at 51,” Casey says as they make their way further down the stairs. They’re almost to the sixth sublevel now and he’s not entirely sure he’s going to have the energy to climb back up through all the rubble when they finally figure a way out of the staircase. His head is pounding and the edges of his vision are getting blurry; on top of that his whole body is aching from the tumble down the stairs he and Stella took. He’s sure she’s hurting too, but she seems to be keeping it under wraps better than he is.

“If you’re suggesting I try to talk Herrmann into retiring, you hit your head harder than I thought you did,” Stella replies glancing over at him.

“That’s not what I was suggesting. I was just saying there might be someway, because believe me, nobody wants you to go anywhere, but you also shouldn’t pass up this amazing opportunity.”

“It’s a nice thought, but I don’t really see a way for me to stay and get my promotion,” she says as they both come to a stop on the landing of sixth sublevel.

“Frame’s bent,” Casey points out after briefly scanning the door.

“Yeah, but there’s nothing on the other side blocking it,” Stella says peaking through the window. “We might be able to bust it open.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Casey adjusts the grip on his halligan. Everything hurts and he’s sure  that if not for the adrenaline pumping through his body and his need to find Brett he’d be passed out by now. They have to get through the door and they have to get back up to the third floor.

“Am I being a complete idiot for thinking about turning this promotion down?” Stella asks and slams her shoulder into the door in an attempt to bust it open.

“I don’t know, Kidd,” Casey says and moves to stand next to her so he can help try to force the door free. He doesn’t want Stella to transfer out, her loves her like family and 51 wouldn’t be the same without her. But it’s not his place to tell her that. Sometimes people just have to spread their wings and fly, and he doesn’t want to hinder that by telling her his feelings. “I guess, the way I see it is, are you going to regret it if you don’t take it.”

“You ready?” 

“Ready.”

They both hit the door at the sametime and Casey can feel it give a little. He can also feel the jar sent up through his body that makes his vision go blurry for a second until he blinks his eyes clear again.

“I don’t know is the thing,” she says through gritted teeth and hits the door with the head of her halligan. 

“You could always take it, and then when a position opens up at 51 transfer back,” Casey suggests. “Ready?”

“Ready,” They hit the door again and this time it screeches a little as it gives a little more. “I guess I could do that.”

“And it’s not like you’ll leave and never see us again.”

“It’ll just be weird being away from you guys is all.”

“Personally, making the switch to leader would probably be easier when you don’t know the crew. People don’t try to pull the friend card to get away with stuff. Like when I first made the switch to lieutenant me and Sev’s old buddy Darden was the worst about that kind of thing,” Casey says. Andy has always been a bit of a piece of  work; he was a goof and one hell of a firefighter but he always had that little bit of bull headed defiance where he’d dive into any situation head first without much of a second thought. He was never unmanageable though, he just never quite got used to the idea of taking orders from his best friend and in the end it got him killed. Matt’s always wondered if it was someone else up on that ladder with Andy giving orders if he’d still be alive. “Besides, finding a new crew could be fun.”

Stella looks him in the eyes, but doesn’t say a word as she slams her foot into the door and forces it open. “Let’s go find Sylvie and Kelly.”

***

“I need a breather,” Sylvie huffs as Kelly helps her scramble up a leaned over pillar of concrete creating a kind of ramp to the next level of the parking garage. She doesn’t really need a breather, but she can tell he does and there’s no way he’s actually going to take one for himself. She wants to get out of this smokey and dusty air making her lungs burn and her chest tight, and she wants to stop feeling so trapped, but Severide needs a rest and the only way to get him to take one is for her to say she needs one.

“We can’t rest long, we gotta get out of this smoke,” he says, shining his flashlight around them. “And we’ve still got a good three or four stories to go.”

“I know, I just need a minute.”

“Hey, you’re doing great. At this rate we’ll be up and out in no time,” Severide promises and gives her a little pat on the shoulder.

“How's your head feeling?”  she asks, from what she can tell there’s no fresh blood dripping down the side of the lieutenant’s head anymore, it’s all dry and crusty now.

“It’s still fine, Brett,” he replies.

“And you wouldn’t tell me if it wasn’t,” Sylvie says flattly.

“Bingo,” Severide chuckles with a playful wink. “You ready to get going again?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she sighs. It’s probably best they hurry up and get out of here and get him up to the surface, then Stella can yell at him to take care of himself. Sylvie doesn’t have the energy right now.

They’re about to pick up and start moving again when Severide’s radio crackles and Casey’s voice sounds over it. ‘Does anyone copy’ is the only thing Sylvie gets from his transmission through all the static and popping, but he sounds exhausted and even a little scared.

“This is Severide, Casey I copy,” Severide says, clicking on his mic. “Casey can you hear me?”

“Sev-” is all they get in response before the radio cuts out again.

“Casey, we are on the 4th sublevel. I have Brett. Do you copy?” Severide says loudly. 

“Below… stay put…” 

“Case, repeat that,” Severide says looking to Brett in confusion. They get no reply. “Casey, do you copy?”’

There’s still nothing but static as they wait in silence for Casey to repeat himself.

“Damn concrete,” Severide spits angrily and slaps the ground. “Casey do you copy?”

“What did he mean ‘stay put’?” Brett asks, looking around them. They have to get out of here, staying put isn’t an option.

“I don’t know, I don’t even know if that’s what he said,” Severide replies in frustration. “We gotta get out of here.”

“But what if he did say to stay where we are? There could be a fire above us or something.”

She wants to get out of here, probably more than Severide does, but if Casey told them to stay where they are, he probably has a good reason.

“I’m not sitting around down here on my ass, Brett. We need to get out of here, and you need to get your lungs checked out because of all that gas you inhaled,” Severide says. “Now let’s get out of here.”

Sylvie decides not to argue with the squad lieutenant and follows him as he heads off into the darkness without another word.

***

“I’m sick of trying to get this damn thing to work,” Stella says and shoves her radio back into her radio pocket.

“Kidd, take a breath,” Casey says quietly and sits down on a piece of debris. His head is spinning and he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to be able to hold out. He hadn’t been able to make out much of what Severide said, but he got the part about him having Brett which means she’s safe. There’s no one better and more likely to get her out of this than Kelly. 

Stella shakes her head and cups her hands around her mouth. “KELLY!”

“Kidd! Enough!” Casey snaps, her shout is the last straw. He can’t take it anymore; he feels like his head is about to explode. “He’s fine. Him and Brett will get out of here on their own. We just have to find our own way out. Okay? So please, quit yelling.”

Stella stops and her expression softens. “Casey, you don’t look so good.”

“I’ll be fine if you just take it down a notch,” Casey replies softly. He’s not sure if that’s true. He’s exhausted and now that he knows Brett is safe with Severide he’s not sure if he can still find the same drive to climb his way out of here.

***

“Joe!” 

Joe flinches a little at the sound of his wife’s shrill worried cry as she comes through the doors of the hospital, eyes wide and scared.

“Chloe!” He calls and stands up to greet her.

“Joe, are you okay? I saw the collapse on the news and then the hospital called-”

“I’m fine,” he promises, interrupting her and wraps his wife in his arms. “I ruptured one of my ear drums, but other than that I’m fine.”

“You did what?!”

“It’s okay, the doctor said it’ll heal in a week or so. I’m okay, Chloe.”

“You promise?” she says and cups his cheeks in her soft hands.

“Yes,” Joe replies softly and grabs one of his wife’s small hands. “I promise

“Well you look like a mess,” she says scoldingly and brushes off the top of his head. She’s starting to relax a little. “What happened?”

“It was a gas leak, something sparked it and the whole place came down.”

“Is everyone okay?” 

Cruz ducks his head. When he left Casey, Kidd, Severide, and Brett were all still down there and unaccounted for. He should’ve never let Severide keep going by himself.

“Oh baby…” Chloe breathes. 

“Casey, Kidd, Severide and Brett were still missing when I left,” he mumbles, and keeps his gaze on the floor. He can’t lose any of them; he won’t be able to take it.

“Come here,” Chloe whispers and pulls him close to her, tucking his head into her shoulder. “They’re all tough, they’ll be okay. They’ll be okay.”

***

“Is there any word from the hospital on Gallo?” Ritter asks, taking a second to stop and talk to Boden. He knows the chief is very busy, but he at least has to try to get an update on his friend’s condition. He’d walked to the ambo himself, which is a good sign, but he looked like he’d been struggling.

“Yes, he’s going to be fine,” Boden says before returning his attention back to the radio and three in coming truck companies. Ritter turns away and leaves the chief to his business, that’s all he needed to hear, just a simple yes.

“Hey, Ritter, get over here!” Herrmann calls and waves him over to 51. “Grab a hose bundle. We’re heading to the delta side to help engine 18 knock down some flare ups they have over there.”

“You got it,” Gallo says and pulls a bundle off the engine. “Do you know what the word is on Captain Casey and them?”

“Yeah, squad 6 is coming to assist. Capp and Tony are planning on saddling up and going down with them,” Herrmann says, pulling his own pack of the truck. “Don’t worry about them. They’re nothin’ but a group of stubborn bastards. They’ll be fine.”

From the look of things Ritter isn’t so sure about that, but his lieutenant seems pretty sure of himself and not worried, so the best Darren can do is trust him. There’s not time to worry right now.

***

“I need a breather,” Sylvie pants and flops down on the hard ground. This time she needs it for herself. It feels like they’ve been going for hours, and the going has been slow and hard. She’s exhausted and everything hurts.

“Okay, take your time,” Severide replies and sits down next to her. He seems relieved that she’s asking for a break. “I’m going to try to get Casey on the radio again.”

“Okay,” she mumbles without picking herself up. She wishes Severide could just carry her the rest of the way out. They have at least two more floors to climb and then navigate their way out of whatever rubble is sitting on the surface.

“This is Severide, does anyone copy?” Kelly says, keying his radio.

“I read you Sev,” Comes a response from Casey. There’s a little static and interference, but for the most part the Captain’s transmission comes through loud and clear. Sylvie lets out a sigh of relief, it’s good to hear his voice again; he sounds exhausted, but he’s okay. “What floor are you on?”

“Probably two, but I’m not exactly sure.” Severide sounds so relieved. “Are you sending people down to find us?”

“Negative, me and Kidd are a floor below you. We can’t get contact with the surface.”

“What the hell are you doing below us?” Severide demands, losing his calm at the mention of Stella.

“We came to get you,” Casey replies. “Stay where you are so Kidd and I can catch up, and activate your pass.”

Severide lets out a frustrated sigh before replying to his friend. “Copy that Captain.”

***

Stella hears Kelly’s pass device long before she sees him, but when she finally gets eyes on him it’s like seeing him for the first time in what feels like forever. He’s banged up and looks exhausted, but he’s okay. He’s okay.

“I was so scared,” she breathes as they meet in the darkness of the parking garage.

“I know,” he whispers and wraps his arms around her. “I’m okay.”

“No more building collapses,” Stella says, resting her chin on Severide’s shoulder. It’s so good to have him back.

“I wish I had a say in the matter,” Kelly replies and pulls away from her. “Now we just need to get out of here.”

They both glance over at Casey and Brett who are still celebrating being reunited with a passionate kiss.

“Hey, love birds, we should probably get going,” Severide calls and throws a pebble at Casey’s head. Casey holds up his middle finger, and doesn’t stop kissing Brett. Stella can’t help but laugh at the shocked look that comes across Kelly’s face at being flipped off by Matt. For the first time since this whole mess started she doesn’t feel completely on edge. “I can’t believe you guys actually came down to get us.”

“We were heading down when the place went up,” Stella explains. “We knew there was no way you were getting three victims up by yourself.”

“You guys are crazy,” Kelly says shaking his head.

“That’s what love does to you,” Stella replies and gives him a quick kiss on the lip.

“Okay, we’re ready,” Casey says, finally breaking away from Brett. “Let’s get the hell out of this hellhole.”

***

“Have you heard any word from squad 6?” Ritter asks Mouch as he helps him set up the scene lights on 81; the sun is setting fast and they don’t long to get the lights on.  It’s been well over an hour since the members of squad six and squad three went into the collapsed parking garage to look for the four missing firefighters from 51.

“Not as far as I’ve heard,” he replies glancing over his shoulder at the smoking mountain of rubble. “Radio contact is gonna be rough, so I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t hear anything until they come out.”

“How are you and Herrmann so calm about this?” Ritter finally asks as Mouch fires up the generator.

“We’ve been around a long time, kiddo,” Mouch replies and hooks his thumbs into his suspenders with satisfaction as the scene lights click on, lighting up the darkening air around them. “But don’t mistake our calm for not caring. It’s killing us not knowing as much as it’s killing you.”

“Hey! We’ve got movement near the entrance!” Herrmann shouts as he runs past Mouch and Ritter. Darren can hear the excitement in his lieutenant’s voice. “And chief’s got squad six on the radio! They’ve got our people!”

Ritter looks to Much half a second and then follows after his lieutenant; he can hear Mouch running after him. By the time they reach what used to be the entrance of the parking garage the members of squad six are already emerging from the rubble, Severide, Casey, Kidd, and Brett with them.

“Come’er you idiots,” Herrmann says lovingly and somehow manages to grab all four of them in the same hug. Darren joins them, relieved to see all four of them okay and in one relative piece; when Mouch catches up he joins in the hug. Herrmann is the first one to break from the group hug and shoos Mouch and Darren back a little. “Let’s get you guys to an ambulance.”

***

“Hey, you escaped the scene,” Casey says as Boden knocks on the door to his hospital room. Dr. Halstead had checked him for a concussion, which apparently does have, and then insisted he spend the night for observation. His head still hurts, but the fluids they have him are helping a little.

“The district chief took over the scene, and told me to come be with my people,” Boden replies, closing the door behind him.

“I may have gotten my bell rung pretty good, but I haven’t forgotten about our conversation this morning,” Casey says, holding his chief’s gaze. The man laughs nervously and nods his head.

“I didn’t think you would,” he says, a mix of amusement and sadness coming across his face. 

“Come on chief, what’s eating you?” Casey presses.

“There’s a chief’s exam coming up in a couple months and I want you to take it,” Boden replies.

“And leave 51?” Casey asks. Being completely honest he thought it was a little crazy that Stella wanted to turn down her promotion to stay at 51, he understood it. It just seemed wrong, but now that he might be facing the exact same decision he’s pretty sure he’s about to do the same.

“No,” Boden replies calmly. “And take over 51.”

“What?”

“I’m not as young as I once was,” Boden says. “And I’m not getting any younger. I’m ready to retire, but I want to leave the house in good hands, and I know you’ll take care of it.”

Casey doesn’t even know what to say.

***

“Oh that’s gonna scar,” Stella says, slipping into Kelly’s exame room as April finishes giving him stitches. She didn’t really realize how big the cut in the side of his head was until now.

“Shut up,” he says flatley.

“No, it’s a clean cut, and I’m great at making my stitches pretty and neat,” April says, and starts wrapping his head. “You don’t have to worry about your pretty face.”

“I think it’d be hot,” Stella says with a shrug and plops herself down on the exam table next to him as the nurse finishes up.

“Dr. Choi wants to keep you overnight for observation. I’ll come back and get you when we have a room for you,” April says, getting ready to duck out of the room.

“Thanks April!” Kelly calls after as she closes the curtain behind her. “You were kidding about it scaring, right?”

“Your hair will cover most of it up,” Stella says lovingly and kisses him on the cheek.

“Hey, what’d you want to talk about earlier?” he asks, looking over at her.

“Oh.” She wasn’t really expecting to tell him about the promotion just yet, but she’s not going to lie to him, and she does need to tell him. “I got offered a lieutenant’s position at another house.”

Kelly raises both eyebrows in a mix of excitement and surprise. “Stella-”

“I don’t know if I’m going to take it,” she blurts, interrupting him.

“Of course you are! You worked so hard for this, and if you turn it down they’ll bump you to the bottom of the list,” Kelly says, looking more confused now.

“Kelly, I don’t want to leave 51. It’s my home, my family.”

The confusion leaves his face and he closes his mouth.

“And I haven’t made up my mind yet either.”

“Stella Kidd,” Kelly starts, and takes her hand in his. “You are the most deserving person in the world of this promotion, and I can’t tell you how proud I am of you. And whatever you decide I will still be proud of you.”

Stella smiles at him, and for the first time since getting that letter her insides don’t feel like they’re twisted up in nights. “Thank you Kelly.”

***

Two days later…

“Case that’s huge,” Kelly says, taking his cigar out of his mouth, Benny and Grissom had always wanted him to shoot for chief, but it was never something Kelly wanted or even something he could see himself doing. Casey on the other hand, Casey was born to be chief; he’s got the head for it and that little bone in him that can play politics. Kelly’s definitely with Boden, the best person to take over the house is Casey. “What’d you tell him?”

“Nothing,” Casey says staring out into space. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“You’ve gotta take it. You were born for the job, and there’s no one better out there to take over the house. You know how things work there,” Severide replies. “Tell me you haven’t ever thought about it?”

“I mean yeah, I’ve thought about it, but not in a way like it’s a reality,” Matt says and takes a puff of his cigar.

“Have you talked to Brett about it?” Kelly asks.

“Yeah, she thinks I should take it too.”

“She’s a wise woman, that one,” Kelly laughs

Casey sighs. “I kind of have to do this, don’t I?”

“Only a crazy person’d turn it down,” Kelly jokes and nudges his friend with his elbow. Having Casey as a chief would change things drastically, not just for the two of them, but for the whole house, but it’s better than having an outsider come in.

“Then maybe I will,” Casey snorts. “You seem to think I’m pretty crazy.”

“Case, I’m serious. You’d be a great chief, and do you really want someone coming in and taking over the house? Boden built the house to what it is today, and I think he always had one of us leading it some day as his end goal. We both know that was always gonna be you. He trusts you with everything he has worked to build,” Severide says firmly. “At least consider it, and consider what will happen if you don’t take his offer.”

Casey turns his gaze away from Kelly and stares out into the distance, deep in thought as he puts his cigar back in his mouth.

“And I’ll back you all the way,” Kelly adds.

***

“Chief, you have a second?” Boden looks up to see Casey poking his head into his office.

“Of course,” Wallace replies and stands up to greet the truck captain. He knows the chief pitch was a lot to throw at him, but he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t have absolutely faith in Casey’s ability to lead the house. There’s not a single better person he can think of to do it. Ever since Matt Casey was a probie Wallace had a feeling he’d one day grow to take his job.

“I’ve decided,” Casey says holding his gaze, the captain looks a little like he’s about to jump off a bridge. “I’m going to throw my hat in the ring for battalion chief.”

[teamrocketmemes]

ACNH - Pascal’s Deep Thoughts - Part 9

meme inspired by the shit pascal says in new horizons

Wanna learn to cook? Try getting good at one recipe, then branch out. From there it's all just spices.

Want to attract a bunch of otters? Scallop-shaped hot-air balloon, maaan... Otters for miles.

Water bottles are too full. Chip bags are too empty. I've tried to fix this, but my chips keep getting soggy.

Watermelon confuses me, maaan. Why can't we just call it fruity-foam melon? It's not foolin' anyone.

We call them "rams" because they ram into stuff, so shouldn't otters be called "Bob"?

We did gnats dirty. Didn't even let 'em suggest a better name. We were like, "Gnat." Then they were gnats.

We need a new word to describe tasty leftovers. I think we should go with "re-licious," maaan...

We should tell rainbows it's OK to relax. They're always so intense. We put too much pressure on 'em.

We've got card sharks, pool sharks, loan sharks... Sharks need better vocational training, maaan.

WHAAAAALES.

What if all the planets and stars are just, like, huge atoms? And we're all just part of a giant <random object>?

What if, like, ancient myths and legends were true? Archaeologists would be so confused.

What the folks at the smoothie shop don't want you to know is...they're just throwin' things in a blender.

What's up with crossword puzzles, maaan? Why are they so upset? Why not kindword puzzles?

What's with the first eight clouds? Are they sorta good, but nothing to write home about, or what?

When I swim in the sea and get wet... the ocean gets a little bit dryer. Do I, like, owe the ocean an apology?

When my head gets cold, I put on my hat. My hair appreciates it. Everyone needs a little help now and then.

When someone tells you to hold your horses, you tell them no. Maaan, they're way too heavy!

When you can't sleep, maaan, you gotta wonder if maybe sleep just can't YOU.

Where did my hat come from, maaan? Like, did I put it on once, or...was it just always there?

Where do you throw a garbage can when you want to get rid of it, maaan?

Wherever you are, whether you're in a house or in your own head, make it comfy. You be good to you, maaan.

Whether you walk or run, you're gonna get there when you get there. That's why I backstroke, maaan.

Which came first, folks named Stew, or stew? And if it was stew...what's that mean for my friend Stew's stew?

Who was the first to think that eating shellfish was a good idea? Must have been an otter...

Whoever decided "humdrum" meant "boring" must never have actually tried humming or drumming.

Whoever named quicksand had the right idea. Regular sand is reeeeal slow, maaan.

Whoever said you only sink or swim must not, like, know about pool noodles, maaan.

Why are they called whiskers, maaan? Whenever I use 'em to whisk stuff, it always ends badly.

Why do people say they've got an "iron in the fire"? Wake me when there's a marshmallow OVER the fire.

Why do they call it a "briefcase" when that's where I keep my boxers, maaan?

Why do you always see dragons sitting on piles of gold? Maaan, haven't they ever heard of banks?

Why is it an insult to call someone childish? Being grown-upish is way worse. Ask any grown-up.

Why is it called "a letter" when they always have more than one letter? Why isn't it "some letters"?

Why is it called falling asleep? Sounds painful, maaan. Floating asleep...that's what it's all about!

Why is it that fastening something means making totally sure it doesn't go fast? Words, maaan.

Why'd they stop calling glasses spectacles, maaan? Guess they just couldn't live up to the hype.

[mondoholic]

Josh Homme spoke to Kyuss World Radio about the 25th anniversary of KYUSS's final album, "…And The Circus Leaves Town". The Californian four-piece split three months following the LP's release, resulting in it being less critically and commercially successful when compared to the two KYUSS albums which helped birth the stoner rock movement — 1992's "Blues For The Red Sun" and 1994's "Welcome To Sky Valley".

"I'm not good at keeping memorabilia and I'm not too nostalgic because I guess it makes me feel a little sad sometimes," Josh said. "And I feel like there's such a huge pile of things to do. And sometimes I feel like when I look at a picture or something, I go, 'Man, it'll never be that. That's only where it was.' So I tend to focus forward.

"Hearing that [the album] is 25 years old, that makes me happy. It makes me a little bit proud that I got to do something that long ago, and I'm not dead yet. [Laughs]"

Asked if he had an inkling that "…And The Circus Leaves Town" would turn out to be KYUSS's swansong when he chose the LP title, Homme said: "I think the way Brant [Bjork, drums] left [after] 'Sky Valley' was a real shock, and it was very much like the rug being pulled out from under you. Because I didn't really understand [why he was leaving], and he was never able to make it really clear. Because I think it's difficult, too — when you're young like that, it's difficult to say, 'I need to go this direction.' When he left, he had our manager tell us that he was leaving, so we didn't really get to speak to Brant. And one of the things that he had said was, 'I think the band should be over.' And I really loved Brant. And I think that was a difficult moment to hear your friend was gone and he wasn't explaining why and that he thought it should be over.

"One aspect that I always agreed with is that bands, especially at that time, I was adamant that bands shouldn't go on too long," he continued. "At the time, I really felt like you do your best work, and when you realize you've done your best work, that's when you should explode the band — to preserve it is to destroy it; that you end [the band] at the absolute apex of your creativity as a group of people. And for me, personally, and I probably should have shared this, but in my gut, I was, like, 'We'll do one more record, and it'll be everything we have.' And so when I suggested that title, I think I knew that that was it, or I felt that it was coming to a close. It just felt very sort of Edgar Allan Poe, or it felt like 'Something Wicked This Way Comes', which is one of the [most] beautiful I've ever seen for a book. It's just got this beautiful ominous darkness to it. And so '…And The Circus Leaves Town' just felt timeless, and it's over, and you watch the exit on the horizon."

In March 2012, Homme and ex-KYUSS bassist Scott Reeder filed a federal lawsuit against Bjork and ex-KYUSS singer John Garcia over their involvement in the band KYUSS LIVES!, alleging "trademark infringement and consumer fraud." Five months later, a judge ruled that Garcia and Bjork could not release any recordings under the name KYUSS LIVES! and warned them that future concerts under the KYUSS LIVES! mark "might continue to subject them to liability for trademark infringement."

Asked if there is any scenario under which he would consider taking part in a KYUSS reunion of some kind, Homme told Kyuss World Radio: "My philosophy has always been, never do a reunion, never do a sequel. It's not what it was; it's what it is. And that's kind of how I've felt. A legacy that involves having been at the epicenter of a scene that got created, it's so fragile; it's like an ice sculpture. And I don't wanna be a blow dryer on that thing. That being said, I was in full support of KYUSS LIVES! and I would go to the shows and I told them as much, until what Brant and, unfortunately, what John tried to do. And that was terrible."

Elaborating on the breakdown of his relationship with Bjork and Garcia, Homme said: "All you have to do is show each other respect and say, 'Hey, we wanna do this, and we wanna talk about it.' Once Scott Reeder told me they were wanting to put out an album, I said, 'Let's sit down and talk.' So Scott and I went and talked to John and Brant. Sorry, it wasn't Brant — it was just John, because the band as it is, Brant had quit, so he wasn't part of that, what it was when it stopped, [which was] me and Scott and John. So I said, 'This is a discussion for me and you and John.' So I went and talked. And I said, 'We should find out a way for you guys to continue that's respectful.' You don't trample on what the legacy is and that you kind of let everyone understand what's going on moving forward. And the name they chose was a little unfortunate, 'cause it's actually literally saying KYUSS is alive again, which wasn't my favorite thing, but I was, like, 'Who cares?' But unbeknownst to me and Scott during that meeting, they'd already applied for a trademark to steal the name away. So I'm sitting there talking to these guys in good faith, and their managers, and they'd already applied, and you have, like, 20 days to object to the application. So the notion that I'm sitting there talking in good faith about how they could continue, and meanwhile, at that exact moment, in another room somewhere, they're applying to take the trademark for the name KYUSS so we wouldn't own it anymore, so John and Brant would own it. And so John had felt like he was robbing himself for something, and that's just not right — I don't play that way. And it also meant that they couldn't be trusted to be honest. 'Cause I'm sitting in a room, and instead of telling you that, it's like being stabbed in the back, essentially. There was no choice but to actually take action, because you can't sit down and say, 'Let's talk about this,' because now you told me that I may say something to you with my right hand, but my left hand might be stabbing you in the back. It's made it impossible to trust what was going on. And Scott and I both were, like, 'Jesus.' And it was only three people — me and John and Scott. It was, like, 'John, what are you doing? You are allowing you and Brant to take the name from you and me and Scott.'"

Homme continued: "I suppose at the end of the day, they didn't need a blessing [to play KYUSS music], but I was giving it to 'em. I want those guys to do well. And they were playing KYUSS music for a generation that had only heard of it and never heard it. I didn't see the harm in that. But trying to usurp it and take it away was just like dirty pool. The problem with all that stuff is that in a lawsuit or something like that, everyone loses; everyone looks bad. People that have loved KYUSS for so long go, 'Fuck these guys.' And that's terrible. That's why I say it's so fragile. That's why I say I've always wanted to err on the side of don't finger bang the ice sculpture; it's gonna break. If you don't touch it, it's just classic. But you don't punctuate the end of a band with a lawsuit. Those things are tragic, and they're awful. And then they lost, because, of course, you lose when you do things like that. But that damage is awful.

"But to be honest with you, and to answer your question, there have been times I thought it cannot end that way, and the only real way to end it correctly now would be to play," he explained. "And because they sort of perverted the punctuation and they knocked the wing off this beautiful dragon that's an ice sculpture, and the only way to put the motherfucking wing back on would be to [play again].

"I have thought about this, especially in the last few years, to do something special, and even to make up for that mistake of Brant and, unfortunately, John, to make up for it. [I thought we should] play and give all the money away. Like, play for the fans — cover your costs and make it five bucks. Figure out a way to be, like, this is how the punctuation will end the sentence of this band. Because it was never about money — it never was about money. It never was about fame, and when it felt like that was the move they were making, I was so sad."

After KYUSS split in 1995, Homme went on to form QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE.

In a May 2012 interview with RolllingStone.com, Bjork stated about Homme and Reeder's lawsuit, "They don't want to mention that they trademarked the name KYUSS after I left the band, assuring that I had no rights in KYUSS's future. They're both accusing John and I of doing something that they actually did themselves. Their inner conflict is this: both Josh and Scott want control and money from KYUSS LIVES!, but they don't want to participate and they ultimately don't want us to exist. The double standard is unbelievable."

He added, "Josh and I were the creative force within the band and after the completion of our second record, 'Blues For The Red Sun', we developed an opposing view on how the band should exist and operate. In 1992, Josh discovered publishing, which is the financial revenue stream for songwriting. After that, he wanted to write all the songs. As a drummer, I couldn't make him play my songs. I wasn't going to compromise my heart and soul and play drums for Josh to make money in a band I started. So I left the band. I was a confused, angry and sad 19-year-old idealist who sacrificed my love of my band for what I believed in. Two and a half years later, Josh would break up the band after John confronted him about the same thing; his need to control the band for personal gain."

[thedropdeadhandsome]

Unexpected Visitor

Jaehyungparkian x Fem Reader (Fox hybrid)

Pt 2

Word count: 4k or something

Contents: fluff, nudity, humor, supernatural, sexual content, banter, jaehyungparkian

Summary: Basically the plot is about Jaehyungparkian discovering a fox in the cold outside, taking it home then in the morning freaked out over the Fox becoming a beautiful woman. This is all my original idea, please enjoy, sorry I can’t do the read more thing on mobile ☹️

(Words written in italic is the readers thoughts)

Laughter was filling up the room in which the group called Day6 occupied, even though it was raining outside you barely could hear the pitter pattering of the rain droplets hitting the windows, since the boys were so loud on the radio program they so happen to be guests on.

“Like i said before if Brian didn’t take all my lines in the song and focused on his own parts then the fans can hear my sexy voice and appreciated what real talent is” said the man with glasses known as Jae, wearing a shit eating smirk as those words left his lips, knowing he had triggered his band mate by that name.

While the others in the room started chuckling with laughter, some with tears slipping out, the one known as ‘Brian’ began to respond to Jae’s teasing “Eww Eww Eww” the male started “It’s Young K, say it with me Young K” he added while putting his large hand through his coloured hair.

Jae chuckled as he raised his hand pointing to Young K “You ain’t English Bro! You are B R I A N! Give up” Jae responded looking pleased with himself as he leaned back in his seat.

“No I’m Jae” Young k retorted as he kept his mouth shut having enough bickering.

With that the rest of the show went smoothly, a few teasing here and there, jokes mostly made by Jae towards Wonpil because he is such an easy target.

Meanwhile outside amongst the heavy rain and wild winds, people moving quickly to get indoors and warm up from the cold and wet weather. Boots splashing in the shallow puddings “god damn it!” You exhale annoyed as you continue walking along the foot paths with your big umbrella shielding you from the heavy rain outside, trying to shield your body more with the umbrella from the rain drops as you head towards your place.

“I hope the rain dies down, I can’t afford an unfortunate accident or changing into my fox form while I’m out here, damn weather man! I hope you got drenched” you muttered out loud furiously trying to keep yourself as dry as possible.

Passing a few more streets, ignoring some random men trying to use some cheesy pick up line on you, you finally made it to your apartment. Turning your body so the umbrella faced the street, shook off the water droplets before closing up the umbrella then entering the building, “thank you” you responded automatically as someone held the door out for you, making your way to the elevator doors and lucky getting in before they closed.

“Just in time” you thought as the elevator made its way up to the floor your apartment was on. Getting out of the elevator once reached your floor, taking out your keys, jingling of the keys as you put it in the keyhole, walking in once door was opened, taking the keys out, closing door with a push by your hip, placing umbrella in the stand, slowing removing jacket and hanging it up, removing boots and putting them in their spot.

Moving towards the living room, taking the remote into your hands and aiming it at the television as you press the button that turned it on “hmm no” switch channel “no” changes again, “okay” you smiled leaving the music channel on as it was playing an assortment of music from the 90’s to early 2000’s. Turning to face the window seeing lightning flashes by, shuddering unconsciously at the image “lucky I came inside when I did” you sighed, turning off the television before making your way out of the apartment to go check on the laundry you had drying in the dryer earlier.

Back at JYP building Young K looking at Jae slightly annoyed “Jae Hyung, could you please stop calling me Brian while we are doing interviews and stuff like that? My stage name is Young K, so use it” he said with a soft sighing trying to get his band mate to understand.

“Yeah sure, but you are Brian now and forever, I will never call you Young K because you aren’t Young K you are and forever Brian deal with it” Jae said back as Wonpil started fussing as Dowoon was busily looking for his drumsticks “Hyung! Have you seen my drumsticks?” He asked only looking in the same spot near his chair for five minutes.

At the bickering of the two older members that act more like children Sungjin’s eyebrow twitched, taking a deep breath “Jae Hyung, Young K please stop bickering you are acting like a married couple having a quarrel” he took a breath “and Dowoon you haven’t looked anywhere else beside the chair you’re seated at right? If I get up and find them, then I will scold you for not looking for them In the first place” he said irritated as he was dealing with Jin, Ken and Sandeul in the chat room wanting to catch up.

Dowoon trying to hold his gasp as he found his drumsticks on his drum kit, looking around trying to see if anyone notice, putting an finger to his lips as he made eye contact with Wonpil, Wonpil nods which Jae scoffed at Sungjin’s words, Young K checking the time and gathering his things.

“Alright, I’m heading home before the nasty storm hits” Young k spoke finally breaking the silence, “so am I” Jae added as he turned his phone off “Are you guys coming or have you got other plans?” he ask as he started getting his things.

“Nah, I got plans with Jin, Ken and Sandeul” Sungjin said as Dowoon sat on his seat “I’m going to practice for a bit then go visit my parents” Dowoon declares as Wonpil added “I’ll be with Dowoon”

Jae nods “ah okay, well see you guys later” he said as Young K left the room with him then began heading out into the rain with their jackets and umbrella’s on, walking straight to their home.

After putting the dry clothes away, you went down to the mailbox to get your mail, unfortunately since you have been stressed out due to work and personal life as well as the weather which doesn’t help, your body couldn’t take it and decided to switch to your fox form, an internally scream was made, sitting in the pile of your own clothes with your keys at your side “are your kidding me?” You thought as your body went into action to collect your belongings, to put them in a secret location so when you can turn back into your human form, you can collect your things and act like nothing has happened.

Exhaling sharply, looking around you decided to try and conceal yourself but you ended up tipping a potted plant over and getting yourself wet and dirty “why do I have to be stuck in this form?” Anger slightly filled you as you think about all the other times you changed forms which was such bad timing, Lucky this time it wasn’t at work or in the middle of a store or on the way home.

Leaning against the mess you created, you started feeling done with yourself when you heard two males talking and heading in your direction. Having to try and hide but you had no time until one male spotted you and looked completely shock as he tapped the other males shoulder before leaning down towards you.

“Don’t come near me!” You thought continuously as the male with the orange hair and beautiful eyes opened his mouth “hello little one, how did you get here?” Young k said as Jae smirked “you know it can’t talk Brian, so why try?” He said teasingly.

Young K sighed “I know that Jae, but the fox must be scared” he said, taking in the fact that the fox was wet, covered in dirt and the potted plant was all over the floor.

With a heavy sigh Jae began to tidy up the mess you made, making you very apologetic towards them for tidying up your mess. Without uttering another word, Young K scooped you up of course you tried to get out but he wouldn’t let you go “okay little fella, stay still we’ll take you some where warm” he spoke very sweetly displaying a breathtaking smile which made your stomach flip.

“I’m not a fella!” You thought “no don’t look at me like that” you add trying to stay still.

“I didn’t agree to this, but I guess it’s better then leaving it here and having someone take it to pet control” Jae added, carrying everything else as the two headed towards their apartment.

Once entering their apartment a very musky scent went through your noise making you shudder and curl up into the orange haired males chest.

“I got the lights” Jae said as he turned the lights on, both men removing their shoes, closing the door before they both looked at one another. “I’ll get this little one cleaned up and then i can start cooking” Young K discussed with Jae before the two went their separate ways.

Setting their belongings down where they belonged, Jae removed his jacket and dried his hair with his towel before turning the  tv on to hear the news, sighing at what the new reporters were saying “Yeah right! They should hire a new weatherman, he can’t do his job correctly, I call bullshit” he muttered while taking a seat on the couch before changing the channel to something more entertaining.

“Ah ah ah, no stay still” Young K said as he was washing your fur gently with warm water while you shake and try to get out of the tub. His hair with water droplets and his clothes slightly damp because of your persistence in shaking the water off you like a dog. “Come on sweetie? I can’t get you clean if you fight me” he said trying to negotiate with the fox, which was you.

“Why does he keep persisting? Can’t he just go so I can turn back? Honestly, who thought they would be in my apartment building” you thought as he picked you up and started drying you, walking over to Jae to set you down beside the glasses wearing male “alright, I’ll start cooking. Keep an eye on her, she seems to like to bolt” Young k said as he headed towards the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

“Of course Brian” Jae said sarcastically while doing a salute, looking down at you with a smile before finishing off the drying, not even questioning how he knew that you were a female.

When dinner came around it was easy to get you to eat as you decided to go along, since they will catch you if you run or fuss because you didn’t eat anything, and besides how could you refuse when both these men look at you so lovingly in your fox form.

“They’ll definitely never look at me like that once I become human again. We’ll go back to only acknowledging each other if we cross paths in the hallways” you thought letting a sigh out as you curled up on the couch as both men took turns showering and discussing things you weren’t interested in listening too.

The boys were trying to convince you to leave the couch but unfortunately you weren’t moving. “Come on, come with Brian to bed” the orange haired male said, the one with the glasses sighed after trying for fifteen minutes “seriously, if Sungjin finds her we are screwed though you could just grab her” he said causing Young K to roll his eyes “then go grab her Jae, if she bites you it is your own fault” he said smirking as he then left the light on knowing the others will be back and heading to bed after giving you one last look.

Leaning down to your level Jae looks at you closely “You are very stubborn fox but you can come to the room if you want, no rush” he said giving you a pat that made you annoyed yet happy that you leaned into his touch, he then went to the same room and kept the door open.

While you were out on the couch being stubborn, the two men sat on Young K’s bed making small talk. “It’ll be better if we stay here, she’ll come in here and then the others won’t know she was in the house” Young K said as Jae added “but why do I have to be here?, I know it’s easy so she won’t wander but I do have my own room” a sigh left Young K’s lips “you don’t want to be in the room with me? Fine, you miss out if she comes in here” he said pretending to sound offended which caused Jae to sigh and stay back “fine we wait” he said in agreement.

As the night went on a huge horrible noise made by the thunder sent you fleeing into the room the boys were in. As much as you hated being stuck in this form, the thunder was just to much for you to take. Getting into the bed which so happened to have both of the boys lying in it with the middle of the bed free just incase you came, “they are very sweet”. Getting closer to Young K as the thunder made another cracking noise which got you to make a whining noise as you curl into Young K’s chest while shaking slightly.

“There there, it’s okay” both boys say as they were in a light sleep while you were trying to get comfortable. You have no idea when or how you finally slept but you were completely grateful to have those two beside you while this bothersome weather continued to captivate the city, your only worry was how they’ll react when you return to your human form.

The next morning, the sun was starting to shine in the bedroom of Young K’s where the first to awaken was Jae, rubbing his eyes he slowly opened them before putting his glasses on, turning his head towards where Young K was when his eyes widen and covered his mouth. He was completely shocked to see a beautiful naked woman in the bed that was shared between the three of them, scratching his head slightly as he was sure they didn’t bring a woman back to the apartment, only the fox which wasn’t there anymore, then getting more confused by the fact that the woman was naked, “okay, firstly calm down and close the door so the others don’t come in” he said mostly to himself, getting up and closing and locking the door, sighing out in relief when he noticed he wasn’t naked so he didn’t have sex with her.

Returning back to the bed, his eyes scanned Young K to identify if he did anything which came back negative as Young K was still wearing clothes, he was sure neither of them would be having sex while the other slept in the same bed, talk about awkward let alone weird. Looking back at the woman resting, all Jae wanted to know was who she was and how did she get in here.

Fortunately god was listening to Jae’s silent prayers as you slowly turn your body towards him which got him flustered seeing you completely naked, your eyes slowly open as you slowly leaned on your elbows “Good morning” you spoken softly, getting flustered for being nude, trying to cover yourself with the bed sheet as much as you can. “I can see you got some questions for me?” you added as Jae nodded swallowing hard “yes I do, but I should probably get you a shirt” Jae said getting up trying to get up but fell over from his foot getting caught in the sheets, which got you to giggle which sent Jae into an even more flustered mess.

“Jae can you please stop making so much noise, I am trying to sleep here” Young K mutter, slowly rising up as he rubbed his own eyes, once he noticed you in your naked glory he had a blush across his cheeks as he tried to not let his eyes linger on your body, “Y..y..your naked! How? When? Huh?” He stuttered as you both made eye contact.

“Good morning” you smiled at Young k as Jae joined back on the bed, unsuccessful in retrieving a shirt for you to cover yourself. Nodding at his questions you looked at both males “Firstly I am very grateful for your hospitality you both gave me, I’m sorry for being very stubborn with you” you began to say as you notice the little scratches you gave Young K as he was cleaning you up earlier. Looking at Jae you nodded “yes I am the fox you took into your home last night, I am naked because when I return to my human form I am all natural, yes I am a hybrid so I can if I so choose to, I can show my ears and tail in this form but it’s a little inconvenient in my daily life” you stated starting to use your fingers to brush your hair to detangle it.

Both boys looked in shock hearing you answer Young K’s stuttered questions. “Okay, I can believe your this ‘hybrid’ but firstly could you tell us your name and how you got into the building” Jae said calmly as Young K passed you a shirt which you happily put on with no hesitation, ignoring the air quotes Jae used earlier.

“My name is y/n” you said softly looking at the amusingly “I actually live here in this building, my apartment isn’t that far away from your own” you added as you sighed “I changed form while going to check the mail, tried to hide myself which I knocked over the potted plant and then you guys came which shocked me and now I’m here in your apartment” you explained feeling very awkward since your heart is racing just having them so close.

With your explanation, Young K gave a nod with a reassuring smile “ah I can see that, I have noticed you a few times around the building, I didn’t expect you to be the fox since I have seen you once before” he stated then looked to Jae then back at you “I could go find your things if you like, then you can go home right” he adds as you nod unsure if he was trying to kick you out or help.

Before you could ask Young K how and when he saw you in your fox form before, he already left the room leaving you a little dejected since you had so many questions of your own, but you guess you being a fox hybrid is more important right now.

Young K left to go get your belongings but before he could get to the living room, Sungjin stopped him “did you hear that our next door neighbour Ms y/n (last name) didn’t return home? The rest of our neighbours are worried since she never had done that” Sungjin said concerned as Young K nods “unfortunately I didn’t see her or hear anything about it, but I’m going to check the mail so I’ll look around” Young K said as Sungjin nodded as both went in different directions.

Back in Young K’s room, Jae was asking very odd questions “So have you ever changed form in the middle of sex?” He asked as he found this situation amusing.

“Uh no, but I can bring in the tail and ears if that’s what you would like master” you teased as you then let out a sigh. Running your fingers through your hair “but seriously how am I supposed to return to my place with your band mates still here? Don’t you guys have work?” You questioned as you gave a soft smile.

Jae nods thinking about that “actually today we have no work, I do think our leader is here but not the oth...hmm” he began taking a break to think “well maybe if you can go back into your fox form we could do it that way, but it would be suspicious if both Young K and I Ieft the place together but on the other hand I could always lie” he said which caused you to laugh at his plan because he was just causing more trouble for himself.

“Yes I can change forms at will, that is probably the best because you wouldn’t want to be in an scandal right?” You said as Jae nods “you are well aware on who we are aren’t you?” He said pleased, hopefully you would be his fan.

You gave a nod “of course I am, all of us in the apartment building was informed on you boys moving in, plus I am a big day6 fan, though I can’t attend any concert or fan meets in case I accidentally change form” you explained sadly just as Young K returned fluster with your articles of clothing, mail and keys. Not sure how exactly he got it past the other boys but you are very grateful “thank you so much” you said happily causing both of them to get bashful.

After explaining the situation to Young K, you three decided to act and take you back to your apartment. Once both of them got changed of course you didn’t look, you changed back into your fox form which got both of them intrigued “Brian, you should definitely have a fox as your animal character” Jae said as Young K smirked “and you should have a chicken because you are chicken little” Young k bickered back, of course Jae has another come back to that which lead to Sungjin ignoring the both of them as they left their apartment without a problem.

“First checkpoint is a success” Jae said smirking at Young K and you which made Young K roll his eyes “yeah but you are still horrible at games, that’s why Sammy, Amber, and McKay refuse to play with you” Young K grin as Jae yawned trying to play it off as if it didn’t bother him “nah, they are just intimidated by my awesomeness” Jae responded which got you to giggle to yourself while they headed towards your apartment.

Once reaching the apartment door, Jae took your keys which had a key-chain of day6 which got them to smile to themselves, putting the key in and opening the door, you jumped out of Young K’s arms and bolted towards your bedroom to change.

“Oh wow you can smell lavender? No Lily? lemongrass?” Jae said as Young K shook his head as both men removed shoes, closed door then headed to the living room. Young K placing your belongings on the kitchen bench as he passed it “No it’s vanilla” he adds before taking a seat on your couch.

Once you got dressed, you returned amused by the guesses they made on what scent was lingering in your place. “No unfortunately it’s Jasmine” you spoke, putting your things away as you brought some refreshments “I love the smell of jasmine but I don’t own any plants because I’m forgetful, busy” you explained as you took a seat beside them.

Taking the glass of water simultaneously both boys took a sip then set the glass down. Jae feeling happily that there wasn’t any flowers around to screw with his allergy. “Oh look at the time, you both properly should go get something to eat or would you like me to make you something?” You asked, not wanting to force them to stay but giving them an option so you don’t come across as one of those stalker people or someone like that.

“Sure I wouldn’t mind eating, though could I help? I’ve been trying to learn as much as I can” Young K said as Jae scoffed “We’ll both stay after all we will like to become good friends with you, right Brian?” Jae said and Young K sighed “Hey! it’s Young K” he stated which got you to laugh.

“Alright sounds good, I would love to become good friends with you guys” you said with a smile, slowly rising and heading towards the kitchen with the annoyed Young K and the teasing Jae tailing behind you.

“This is the start of a very beautiful yet cheesy friendship or more” Jae whispers towards Young K which Young K responds with a nod “definitely but don’t think you will become the favourite” he adds as the boys bickered and helped you with making a late brunch.

What in the world have you gotten into? Your not sure but you will never regret getting the chance to meet these two lovable dorky men.

[breeeliss]

If you're Still taking alluralance ideas, I'd love a laundry Room au. Like One of those ones where A thought they were alone So they Were Dancing around while they Fold and makeout with fresh out of the dryer Clothes and then they hear laughter, And it Turns out that B was Just folding in the Shadows and now it's Awkward

allurance

ao3 + masterpost 

//

the laundry room in lance’s apartment was, to put it quite frankly, fucking horrific. he was pretty positive is used to be a torture chamber in the past, but maybe that was the marathoned hours of american horror story talking. 

either way, it wasn’t uncommon for lance to put off his laundry for a couple of days because he was terrified of going down into the basement by himself. people could make fun of him all they wanted, the place looked like something out of a saw movie. 

the fluorescent lights always flickered, the floors were disgusting, the boiler made the most horrendous noises, and the gaping, dark storage room pressed to the back of the room was currently without a door and left plenty of room for lance to imagine what kind of monster or murderer was hiding in the shadows. 

he really needed to cool it on the true crime podcasts. 

but there was no excuse today. lance was officially out of underwear so he needed to stay down there and get at least one load done. so lance plopped his speakers on top of his laundry basket, plugged in his phone, and played the only song he knew that could fill him with a sufficient enough amount of courage to plunge into the depths of the basement. 

“be a man” from the mulan soundtrack. 

once the drum line got started and li shang’s voice echoed through the room, lance immediately got pumped. yes, he was gonna fucking get down to business. this laundry was gonna get done and he was gonna make mulan proud. it’s not like he had anything else to do on a saturday night. might as well twerk it out to disney songs while his boxers dried. 

he was sorting through his clothes as he sung rather loudly along to the lyrics. he threw a glare over to that hellishly dark storage room while he worked as if that was going to stick it to whatever was hiding in there. 

“not today, satan,” lance called out. “i’m about to hit this chorus and your demonic ass is about to be shook.” 

lance was measuring out the detergent the minute the chorus dropped, and he really went in and stretched out those sixth grade glee club muscles. he had this song memorized for years – as every respectable millennial disney baby should – and he couldn’t help but start dancing around the room as he poured in his soap, danced over to his basket, and started throwing clothes in. 

“you’re a spineless, pale, pathetic, lot,” lance sang, really getting into character. “and you haaaaaven’t got a cluuuuuue – woah!” 

lance turned around to grab from the basket, and for a moment he thought it was a ghost standing in the doorway of the laundry room. but he realized it was just a girl – one he recognized, maybe from four doors down, he’s mad he can’t put a name to that head of dyed grey hair. she was holding her own laundry basket under her arm as she laughed at the performance he was unintentionally putting on for her. lance coughed into his arm and tried to play it off like he wasn’t totally making a damn fool of himself, but then the next verse of the song came on and the girl in front of him thoroughly surprised him. 

“i’m never gonna catch my breath,” she smirked. 

lance’s eyes widened. “say goodbye to those who knew me.” 

she dropped her basket on the laundry machine next to him. “boy was i a fool in school for cutting gym.” 

“this guy’s got ‘em scared to death!” 

“hope he doesn’t see right through me!” 

“boy i really wish that i knew how to swiiiiiiiim!” 

“BE A MAN!!!” 

they both roared into the chorus with so much overdramatic vigor that lance was sure people on the first floor could hear them. but who cares, this was a classic. and this super cute girl was seriously giving him a run for his money with how well she knew these lyrics. god, she even held that long note at the end of the chorus like a total champ. they let the song keep going on without them as they collapsed into laughter against the dryers. 

“oh god, i haven’t heard that song in a long while,” the girl laughed. 

“seriously?” lance gasped. “i watched mulan like…last week.” 

“it’s one of my favorite disney movies. well, that and aladdin. you can’t forget aladdin.” 

lance pounded on his chest. “princesses of color. represent.” 

the girl snorted into her hand and started to throw some of her sweaters into the washing machine. “sorry to interrupt you, but i had to jump in.” 

“oh please, you did me a favor. that harmonizing we had going on was…” lance pressed his fingers to his lips and made a loud chef’s kiss to the air, “perfecto.”

“well, singing is always better when you have company,” she said. “besides, i was sort of hoping there was someone else down here. this laundry room always creeps me out.”

“doesn’t it? i feel like someone is gonna pop out the shadows and kill me.” 

“i had a bloody nightmare about this basement the first time i came down here! swear on my life!” 

“well, if you ever need back up and a bomb ass disney playlist when you’re doing laundry, i’m your dude. that stuff helps.” 

allura grinned and shook her head at him as if she was surprised to see him suddenly standing in front of her. “i didn’t catch your name…” 

“lance,” he said, holding out his hand. “i feel like i’ve seen you before. i’m in 507 if that helps.” 

“allura,” she supplied. “and yes, i’ve definitely seen you going out for jogs early in the morning. i’m in 501.”

lance winked. “oh, well, hello neighbor. it was a pleasure dorking out to disney soundtracks with you.” 

allura bowed dramatically. “likewise. have you got anymore queued up?” 

“let’s see. i’ve got ‘be our guest,’ ‘friend like me,’ ‘let it go,’ and ‘i just can’t wait to be king.’ pick your poison.” 

“‘friend like me’ obviously,” allura scoffed. 

“right, right, aladdin junkie. why didn’t i realize sooner?” 

“jasmine was my spirit animal. i dressed up as her for halloween three years in a row back when my hair was still black. i was the splitting image of her.” 

“wait that’s so adorable. i’m so basic, i think i reused the same pirate costume for like five years.” 

“you were a pirate for five years?” 

“well, for the first year. next year i was a ghost pirate. then a zombie pirate. demon pirate. and a cuban pirate.” 

allura chuckled. “what on earth is a cuban pirate?” 

“a pirate with a cuban flag wrapped around his head that says truco o trato to all the gringos that answer the door.” 

he left her laughing so hard that she stumbled back a couple of steps and had to catch herself against the machine behind her. “are you like this all the time?” 

“please. this isn’t even me trying. you should wait until i really get the jokes going. you won’t survive.” 

allura shrugged. “i mean, i have to stay here until my clothes are done washing. so i’ve got nothing but time.” 

lance smiled. “alright. but remember. you asked.” 

“listen, if it keeps me occupied on a saturday night, i promise i won’t mind.” 

“well, if you eventually get tired of my jokes, i have aladdin on dvd back at my place. i could pop some popcorn and throw it on for us. i was getting kind of bored sitting in my apartment all day and laundry can only get so exciting.” 

allura bit her lip, distracting herself with loading the rest of her clothes. “i’d like that. i’ll bring blankets and some sweets i brought back from work.” 

“yes! sleepover! haven’t had one of those in a while.” 

“hm?” allura smirked, raising a brow. “want me to sleepover, do you? you ought to ask me to dinner first.” 

lance sputtered. “w-wha? no! no no. no, that’s not what i meant, no. totally platonic, buds being buds, watching a movie, five feet apart ‘cause we’re not gay.” 

“that’s a shame,” allura shrugged. “if you wanted me all to yourself, all you had to do was ask.” 

lance leaned into the start button on the washer at the same time she did and tried to play off the fervent jolt of excitement that lit up the length of his spine. “that was really smooth, allura.” 

she giggled. “why thank you.” 

“do you like takeout?” he offered. “i was thinking thai food.” 

“i’ll pay if you show me pictures of all of those pirate halloween costumes. i feel like i’m only going to believe this cuban pirate story if i see it for myself.” 

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Could I Request a fix with Winn Schott and 4. Romantic Gestures? (I love Winn and there are never enough fics about him)

Several things: - This did not turn out as Winn-centric as I’d hoped, apologies.- It’s also not romantic at all, sorry.- I know that’s supposed to be ‘fic’ but my brain ran with ‘fix’ so. *grabs a nail gun and some two-by-fours* Let’s do this.

...

Thealien bar is muted tonight.

Allsoft sounds and yellow light. There's only one game of pool; just ahandful of regulars leaning lazily over the table. Even thebreak—usually so sudden and sharp above the overlappingconversations—is easier on the ears. A muffled clacking, as opposedto a gunfire crack.

Karacan actually hear the song playing on the radio, words and all,without having to use her 'alien ears.' It's a familiar tune, but shecan't place the name.

Shelikes the guitar. Judging by the twang, it's country.

“Thisis nice.”

Winnis sitting next to her, not drunk, but getting there. His glass ismore empty than it is full, and there's a couple more just like itoff to the side, insides awash with the the white spiderwebs ofleftover foam.

“Yeah,it is,” Kara agrees with a smile.

“Thetwo of us,” Winn continues, sitting back in his chair, “catchingup after a long day of work. Just like old times!”

“Yeah,”Kara agrees again.

“Andlike,” he waves a hand. “Sometimes. Sometimes you just need afriends night, you know?”

Thisearns the first emphatic, “Yeah,”of the evening, as Kara slams her hand down on the table. Tempered,of course. “Yeah. I do know.” She's not drunk, but she's buzzed.Most of the alien ale she ordered is still in the glass, and thoughit's far more potent than any alcohol found on Earth, she stillmetabolizes it fairly quickly. She swears she can feel it burningthrough her system, already fading.

“Whydon't we have more friends nights, Kara?” Winn wants to know. “Whyhave we not had a Mario Kart rematch?”

Karashrugs, and nudges her glass around the tabletop, watching as itleaves a wet path in its wake.

“Idon't know. I guess we're just...busy?”

Winntakes a sip of his beer.

“Toobusy for Mario Kart?” he sounds wounded.“God, that'sdepressing. When did that happen?”

Karashrugs again. “We just. Have a lot going on,” she suggests. “Youknow. Saving the world. Work. Dating.”

“Mmfg,yeah,” Winn takes a swig of beer and nods. “I totally get thegamer stereotypes now. Having a social life? Leaves very little timefor video games. You know. In case you were wondering.”

“I'mshocked. Shocked, to find that gambling is going on in here!” Karasays, and Winn squints at the ceiling.

“That'sa reference. I don't know what the reference is...but that's areference.” He reaches over and pats her on the shoulder. “I'm soproud.”

Karalaughs, and considers taking a celebratory sip of her ale, but itdoesn't really taste good, and the buzz isn't worth the burn,as it turns out. “So how are things with Lyra?” she asks. Theyare catching up, after all.

Winndoes not answer right away.

“Oh,you know,” he gestures vaguely. “Things are. Things are...fine.”

“Just'fine?'” Kara throws in a surprised chuckle, because not even twoweeks ago, Lyra was all Winn could talk about.

Ofcourse. There was the whole...art theft thing, but last Kara hadheard, they'd worked that out.

“Great,I mean. Things are...great. Obviously,” Winn's eyes are on Kara,but she gets the sense that he's talking to himself. “We're good.You know, like you and Mon-El.”

“Right,yeah,” Kara grins. “Like me and Mon-El.”

Theystare at one another for a moment or two, and, in a bit of unplannedsynchronicity, both reach for their glasses and take a drink.

“Thisbeer it's—it's really good,” Winn says, returning his glass tothe coaster.

“Yeah,this...” Kara tries to remember the name of the concoction, voice just the slightest bit rough as the liquid stings the back of her throat. “Thisis also really good,” she lies.

Andthey're both sitting there, neither one willing to admit thattraitorous voices at the back of their minds saying: Things arenot great. (The same voice, that, in Kara’s case, anyway, adds: also, this drink sucks.)

Ofcourse, Winn is not drunk, but he is getting there. So heleans forward and plants his elbows on the tablet, splaying hisfingers on the surface, tapping the tacky surface for emphasis as hespeaks.

“Should...shouldit be so...difficult?” he asks, and he appears genuinelycurious about this.

Karaadjusts her glasses.

“Uh,should what be so difficult?”

“Like.Relationships, you know? Should it be...hard? A struggle?”

“Relationshipstake work,” Kara says, reciting the words without much feeling, butclearly with the implicit belief that it's more or less true.

“No,no, I get that,” Winn says, “I get the. The stayingtogether thing, needing work. Like. Ha ha, child of a broken homehere,” he points to himself and his laugh is possibly the saddestthing Kara has witnessed in a while. She rubs his shoulder. “Iguess, I mean.” He pauses, and stares at his empty glass. He huffsin annoyance. “What do I mean? Geez.”

“Itshouldn't feel like a fight all the time,” Kara says, andshe doesn't know where that comes from. What corner of her mind those words sprang from,words that have just. Tumbled out of her mouth.

(Maybeshe's a little more buzzed than she thought.)

Winnnods slowly.

“Yeah.Yes. That's,” he turns on the bar stool, so that he's fullyfacing her. “That's exactly what I mean. Like. It shouldfeel worth it, right?” He's animated now. “The, the hardstuff...should make the other stuff better, but...” heclenches his fists, unclenches them. “But it's just. All hard. Allthe time.”

Karastares at her hands.

“...Yeah,”she quietly agrees.

Fora while, they sit in mutual silence, both more than alittle...conflicted...over the turn this conversation has taken. Thebar seems loud again. The gunfire quality of the cue ball isback, the conversations stacking up on one another, rising in volume.The song playing on the radio is heavy on the synth and drums.

Kararegrets the alien booze, now. She has a harder time filtering, whenshe's not...fully there, in terms of higher brain functions.

“Iknow that look,” Winn says, indicating her slight grimace. “Weshould probably pack it in.” And Kara's fine to go along with thecharade. The, 'we've had too much, clearly this is just the beertalking, let's go back to our lives and pretend this conversationnever took place' charade. “Uber, or Lyft?”

Thatneither of them even entertain the possibility of calling uptheir significant other does not go unnoticed but. Again, like therest of this evening, it is swept under the figurative rug.Internalized and left to fester for another day.

“Ithink I'm just gonna walk,” Kara says. It's not far, and the nightair will feel good. The alcohol will burn off after a block or two,and then she can fly the rest of the way.

“Yousure?”

“Yeah.”

Winnends up going with Lyft, and the two pay their tab before headingoutside. As Kara anticipated, the breeze is nice. Not as cold as shewould prefer, but still bracing enough to help shake off some of thebar-melancholy that clings to the pair like unwanted dryer lint.

“I'llwait with you,” Kara offers.

“Thanks,”Winn says. He shoves his hands in his pockets, and Kara remembersthat it's probably colder out here for him. She offers her jacket.

Anyother guy would make some sort of weird fuss over the offer, butWinn just gratefully accepts the article of clothing and hunchesagainst the wind.

“Youever think about just,” Winn starts to say. Kara looks at him.“Just. Not. Trying so hard?”

Karadoesn't follow.

“What?”

“...If it's doesn’t feel worth it and it's hard--Wouldn't it be niceto...not force this stuff?”

Hesways a little, under the jacket, and his eyes are a touch unfocused.After an evening of getting there, Winn is, at last, drunk.

ButKara thinks she gets the idea.

Shethinks about how...easy all the other relationships in herlife are, compared to what she has going on with Mon-El right now. Sure, those relationships...they’re not perfect, but they're certainly more...Kara tries to think of a good word. Comfortable? 

She thinks about game nights with her friends, and movies with Alex,and how effortless it all is. How she can so readily navigatefriendships, and family.

Theromance stuff...

Shewonders if she'll ever have that figured out. Or, if she even reallywants to have that figured out. That it’s her decision, and not. Not...other people telling her that it is.

“Itwould be nice, yeah,” Kara agrees. She takes a deep breath, andforces a smile. “Guess we'll have to keep working on it.”

“Mmm.”Winn looks down the street, and spots the Accord that's supposed topick him up. He gives Kara her jacket back. “Yeah. We can. Comparenotes.” He sounds a little hopeful.

“Absolutely,”Kara means it. She...likes the idea, of having someone to talk toabout...this. Someone else who gets it. “When we aren'tinebriated.”

“Oh,don't do that, don't show off your...your big, fancy reportervocabulary. You're making my brain hurt.”

“Prettysure that's the beer, doing that.”

“Getouttaherewith your logic,” he flaps a hand at her, and laughs.

Yes,definitely drunk.

“Ithink,” Kara decides, right then and there, “that I should makesure you get to your apartment alright.”

Andagain, any other guy? Would put up a fight.

Winn,though, nods in agreement.

SoKara gets into the car with him, and when they arrive at Winn'sbuilding, she walks him to the door, and gives him a half-hug whilehe fumbles for his keys.

“Thanks,Kara,” he says. “You're a good friend.”

“Backatcha, Winn.”

“Friendshipis like, the best, right?” he says, opening the door. (Aftertwo or three failed attempts.) “Better than—” he stops, butKara knows what he was about to say. Or, at least. She's mentally filled in theblank herself. “...It's just the best.”

AndKara, clear-eyed and sober, readily agrees.

“Yeah,Winn. It really is.”