#i choose to believe zoey is oblivious to them

[highlifeboat]

So I don't talk about Mortuary Assistant like... ever (despite it being fucking amazing) but drawing Zoey made me think about her and Rebecca meeting each other for the first time.

Like Rebecca drops in to get her pay stub or something and they kind of chat for a little bit because "Hey you're my co worker I never see nice to meet you" and then out of nowhere Rebecca goes

"So, do the demons give you trouble during the day?"

And Zoey stares at her like

[samanthadalton]

Star crossed lovers (au) part 4

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

in this chapter specifically there are mentions of guns too 

reader discretion is advised

taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @rxssians @helpconfusedpersonhere @dopeyouth 

(i just wanted to thank you guys for your patience with this fic because i know im not the most consistent with my posting so thank you for reading, also i’ll fix any errors later on) 

word count: 4.9k 

part 1: part 2:  part 3:  

Never bring a knife to a gun fight

Rumours of Poppy’s outburst at volleyball practice began to spread like wildfire, students all around Belvoire gossiped about the intentions behind the strawberry blonde’s confrontation. 

Some of the stories fabricated insinuated that Bea threatened Poppy to counter her friends’ behaviour, while others believed that Poppy was simply doing some charity work by helping Belvoire’s least fortunate. Not one of the rumours came close to the truth, that the girls were just simply in love. 

Saturday rolls over quickly and Poppy’s in her bedroom with Veronica sprawled out on her bed, hugging a pillow to her chest, while Poppy lays on the other side of her. Chloe however,  awkwardly sits on the edge of the bed, ostensibly feeling apprehensive about being in the same room as Poppy as she reels in from her last one on one confrontation with the strawberry blonde. 

The two girls laying down, engage in idle chit chat until they’re pulled out of their conversation when the dumb blonde lets out a small cough capturing their attention. 

“So.. are you sure you can’t ditch your dinner plans and come to the party?” She anxiously places some of her hair behind her ear, as she meets Poppy’s gaze but the blue-eyed girl holds the eye contact, determined to mitigate some of the awkwardness from the room since she’s barely spoken more than 10 words to the strawberry blonde since Thursday. 

Poppy and Veronica share a look, the unspoken words covertly communicating their plan to go to the party in the south, but the two girls remain silent, avoiding the question. Chloe stares at the two girls, oblivious to what the shared look actually means, and when her question remains unanswered she opens her mouth to ask again until Poppy clears her throat slightly and sighs, “I told you Chlo, it’s a work dinner, we don’t have a choice, our parents are forcing us to be there.”

“Yeah but you could I dont know, speak to your dad? I’m sure he would understand”

‘I’m a Min Sinclair, I can’t pick and choose what dinners I can and can’t go to, it doesn’t work like that,” Poppy adds a bit of sterness to her tone hoping the dumb blonde would get the point and leave it alone but Chloe’s infuriating relentlessness compels her to keep cracking down on the strawberry blonde, inclined to make her change her mind. She drags her body from the edge of the bed to the middle, and perches herself on her knees as she faces the two girls, “the party won’t be as fun without you guys there”. 

Poppy lips move to an imperceptible frown as her mind and heart begin to battle over whose party she should go to tonight. While she promised Bea she would go to the party tonight, Chloe was acting suspiciously clingy and things between the two girls were still fragile. Warily watching the strawberry blonde lost in speculation, Veronica intercepts before Poppy can come up with an answer, “have you met her dad Chloe? There’s no way Mr Min Sinclair will let us miss the dinner for a party, don’t be stupid” 

Veronica’s cutthroat tone is enough for the dumb blonde to stop pushing and she purses her lips in retort. Veronica almost feels bad so she adds, “but I agree, the party is gonna be dead without the two of us there” she smiles and slightly nudges Poppy with her shoulder hoping to alleviate some of the awkwardness. However to her dismay, the atmosphere slips back to being awkward and the girls reside in the uncomfortable silence that follows until Poppy’s phone begins to chirp with messages. She apprehensively picks up her phone but can’t help the smile on her face when she sees Bea’s name pop up on her screen.

B 💖

Hey beautiful, can’t wait to see you at the party tonight 

Zoey’s looking forward to seeing Veronica tonight but don’t tell her I told you that otherwise she’ll kill me 

Also can’t wait to see what you’re gonna wear tonight 👀🥵

After reading the series of texts from Bea, Poppy’s practically grinning like a Cheshire cat as she types out her response, her attention shifts solely focusing on the brunette and she mentally reprimands herself for doubting which party she should go to, since the choice is undoubtedly clear. 

Past memories of her going to parties with Bea surges through her mind and she revels in the memory of her first ever southside party. She recollects how nervous Bea was as the 15 year old girls made their way to the drinks table and Bea accidentally spilled her drink on Poppy’s top, after having a couple of beers beforehand, and Poppy teased what a lightweight she was. Bea’s face practically reddened with embarrassment as she offered her girlfriend to wear her hoodie to cover the drink stain, while she walked around the party in her tank top and caught a cold the next day. It was the small moments like that that made Poppy appreciative of Bea’s kindness and thoughtfulness and reminded the strawberry blonde exactly why she loves her. While reminiscing about the past, Poppy’s practically pulled from her thoughts when Chloe taps her leg, frowning. 

‘Who are you uh talking to Poppy?” 

Poppy visibly stiffens and turns off her phone, her mouth begins to feel dry as her brain goes into overdrive trying to come up with an authentic lie. “Just uhh going through my insta dms, the amount of creativity these creeps have is hilarious” 

Chloe gawks at Poppy, not entirely convinced but she nods in response, not wanting to press the matter further. Veronica quickly sits up, a soft gasp leaving her lips as she stares at the time on her phone, “Crap, I gotta go and edit my video so I can upload it tonight”, she gets up to grab her bag and Chloe uses the opportunity to leave with Veronica as she knows that her and Poppy are yet to still be on normal speaking terms. After a few goodbye hugs and a promise from Veronica that she’ll see the strawberry blonde tonight, Poppy walks them down to the front door and watches the girls leave. 

Just as she’s about to head about to her room, a voice booms out from the living room, Poppy freezes mid-step on the stairs and internally sighs, ‘crap’ she thinks to herself, her dad’s home. 

“Poppy, come over here for a second”, Poppy mentally braces herself and holds her head up high, keeps her posture straight and walks into the living room to see her father sitting on his favourite chair and a stack of documents on the table beside him. 

“Hi daddy”, she places a sweet kiss on his cheek and he makes a gesture for her to sit opposite him on the sofa. He places his hand on the frame of his glasses and takes it off and begins rubbing at the glass with the hem of his shirt before placing it back on his face. 

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you this week princess, how was your first week as a senior?” 

Poppy usually gets nervous when speaking with her father about any aspect of her life really, because he isn’t always the most affectionate or warming person. She purses her lips together in thought before answering, “It was good daddy, I’m in a lot of the AP classes so I’ve been making sure I stay on track for what’s expected for the classes”. 

Her father beams at her response and slaps his hand against his knee, “that’s my girl”, but his expression quickly sobers as he fixates his gaze on the blonde, “so, you didn’t run into any problems this week?” His tone is almost intimidating and suggestive as Poppy subtly sinks into the sofa a little, her thoughts beginning to run wild as she struggles to grasp at her father’s implication.

“Uh no, not really dad” 

“Huh, I heard that friend of yours, Chloe? She had a fight with that Hughes girl on the first day back. You wouldn’t be foolish enough to indulge in something so trivial would you now?” 

Poppy clings to the edge of the sofa with a deathly drip, knuckles turning white at the mention of Bea but she lifts her body slightly in an attempt to show her father she isn’t fazed by her name and clears her throat slightly, “no dad, Chloe thought it would be a funny joke but I ended up getting detention for just being in the courtyard.” She begins to shake her head a little, “I would never involve myself in something so ludacris” she exaggeratingly rolls her eyes and fidgets with her perfectly manicured nails, soliciting her lack of interest in the topic. 

Her father gleams at her with a hint of satisfaction, and curtly nods his head at her before swiftly changing the subject. “Rita, tells me you’re planning to go to a party tonight?” 

“Umm, yeah, just a celebration party at Ford’s house, his parents know about it and- ” 

Hayden Min Sinclair raises his hand in the air and the words die out of Poppy’s mouth as she awaits for her dad to speak, “just be safe, and make sure you’re home before 12, just call Carter if you find yourself in need of a ride home”. Of course, Mr Min Sinclair would never offer to pick up his daughter himself, he knows that his daughter should be less dependent on him and should be able to fare for herself. Poppy briskly nods and moves to stand, “Well daddy, I should let you get back to your work”, she gives him a polite smile and moves towards her room, letting out a huge exhale as she closes her bedroom door. She hates hiding things from her father, but he makes it impossible for her to confide in him at all, it’s times like these where she wishes her mother was still here. 

……

Bea spends her afternoon alone after dropping her sister off at her friend’s house for the weekend and worries about her mom being AWOL and has concerns when she doesn’t pick up her phone. It isn’t until the late afternoon her mom casually strolls through the front door, her makeup has practically vanished, with only a few remnants of it smudged across her face. She moves towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water until Bea’s stomps towards the kitchen with a scowl etched onto her face as she pulls Isabella away from the sink to face her. 

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling and texting non-stop” Bea raises her voice and points accusatively at her mother who in response blanky rolls her eyes at Bea and moves towards the cupboards scrounging for some food. Bea’s blood begins to boil as she balls her hands up into fists, her knuckles turning white, she pushes her mom against the counter and lifts her face up to look into her eyes, “You’re fucking high aren’t you?”. She takes in her mom’s features, seeing her incredibly red eyes and her chapped lips, and her slightly slanted demeanour. 

“Get the fuck off me” Isabella pushes Bea away from her, “last I remembered I’m the fucking parent here” 

“Then act like it!” Bea screams at the top of her lungs, her breaths heavy, her tone enraged as she stares down at her mother, “I have better things to do than to worry about where you are or whether you’re laying dead in a ditch somewhere” 

Isabella just places her hands on her head, trying to dull the noise sprouting from Bea’s mouth, “God, you’re hurting my head” she sniffles and simply grabs a packet of chips from the cupboard and a bottle of vodka from under the sink and retreats to her room without saying another word. 

Bea chest heaves heavily, she has no idea what to do about her mother, sometimes she wishes that she wasn’t there, then maybe she would have less to worry about. She could be a normal teenager with normal problems, instead of constantly babying her mother and being a second mom to her sister, but she remembers that she should be lucky to have a mom, no matter how shitty she might be. Her phone in her pocket buzzes and she grimaces a little when she sees the text from Poppy

P💋

hey babe 

V and I decided to go to Ford’s party just for a little bit 

Just to make a few quick introductions but we’ll be in and out of the party 

Can’t wait to see you 🥺

Bea feels a tiny pang in her heart but at least Poppy wasn’t going to completely ditch her for the night. She hoped that tonight would be just about them, that for once Poppy would let go off all expectations and just focus on herself. But Bea knew Poppy carried the world on her shoulders, that being a Min Sinclair meant that she had to sacrifice a lot, but sometimes Bea felt like she was the only thing being sacrificed, that she was the only thing that could easily be cut off. She types out a half-hearted reply to Poppy, something along the lines of ‘can’t wait to see you too’ and with that she grabs her jacket, turns around to catch a quick glance at her mother’s closed bedroom door and leaves for the party. 

……

Poppy and Veronica are walking towards Ford’s house, the faint thumping of bass music echoes throughout the neighbourhood while the girls are fixated on their hair and outfits as they walk towards the front yard. Both of the girls are wearing smart suits, to make their lie about going to a company dinner more compelling. They leave their real party outfits in the back of Veronica’s car which is parked a couple of blocks away from the house and before they enter the house Poppy grabs Veronica’s hand. 

“I told Bea that we will be in and out of the house, so let’s not waste any time. We just say a few hellos and then we go” she flips her hair throwing it back over her shoulder while Veronica rolls her eyes. 

“Hey you’re the one who decided to stop by Ford’s party, I would rather be in the southside partying it up there.” 

Poppy piercingly shushes Veronica, and in one swift move places her hand over the ombre-haired girl’s mouth, “Are you trying to expose us or something? Don’t mention the” she conspicuously u looks around and whispers, “don’t mention the southside here” 

Veronica pulls Poppy’s hand from her mouth and exaggeratingly shudders while shaking her hands, “Oh no, I forgot the southside is like Voldemort we don’t speak of it” sarcasm dripping off every word she says. 

Before Poppy can answer, a series of screams reverberates from inside the house and a few seconds later, Poppy and Veronica are engulfed in a huge bear hug from Chloe, “Oh my god, you guys made it”, she screams enthusiastically while jumping up and down in her spot clapping her hands together. 

Veronica sticks her fingers in her ears are glares at Chloe, “chill Chloe, you’re gonna burst my eardrums” 

Poppy laughs and playfully slaps Veronica on the arm and turns back to face the dumb blonde, “We’re just passing by, just because we have to go to a stuffy work dinner doesn’t mean we have to show up on time” 

Chloe grabs the two girls by the arms and pulls them into the foyer where they’re greeted by more of their peers. Ford is already half naked with a red solo cup in his hand and he waves the girls over before offering them a drink which the two girls politely decline. 

“Oh come on, one drink won’t kill you” 

“We said we’re good” Veronica’s tone is cutthroat causing Ford to back off and resume his strip pong game. 

“Ayyyyyy there are my two favourite girls” Carter slurs his words slightly and slinks an arm over each girl’s shoulders and migrates the girl’s to the back of the living room where the speakers are playing. “I thought Chloe said you guys aren’t coming? You change your mind Pops?” he flirtatiously raises an eyebrow at Poppy who playfully pushes him back in return. 

“No we still have to go to the dinner” she gestures at her suit, “we just wanted to say hi real quick” 

Chloe ambles towards the girl’s and grabs Veronica’s hand and pulls her to the dance floor without waiting for the ombre-haired girl to refuse, leaving Poppy and Carter alone. 

“So… do you really have to go? I mean you could have a lot more fun if you stayed” he takes a careful step towards the strawberry blonde, closing the distance between the two as he leans in to whisper in her ear, “we could play strip pong”, he leans back a little to stare into Poppy’s eyes. 

Poppy lets out a small awkward laugh, “um, as much fun as that sounds, Veronica and I really should get going. I don’t wanna piss off my dad” she takes a step back from the quarterback and wraps her arms around herself.  

Carter gives Poppy a long unwavering look, one she fully couldn’t dissect and understand, but he breaks the silence, “well, I hope you have fun, Chloe was worried you were ditching us for someone else” 

“Yeah, my dad’s business partners. Because work talk is absolutely riveting and exactly how I wanna spend my saturday nights” her voice brimming with sarcasm as she gives Carter a quick hug goodbye and grabs Veronica and pulls her out of the house after making a few more rounds with the rest of the students of Belvoire. 

…….

“This is a party, loosen up a little” Zoey rolls her eyes and hands Bea a red plastic cup, before taking a small sip from hers, “don’t tell me the princess of Greensburg decided to not show up” 

Bea lighthearted rolls her eyes and takes a huge swig of her cup, “she said she’s coming, okay? She’s just saying a quick hi to her friends” 

“Yeah sure, because she would rather hang out with the people at the bottom of the food chain than preppy rich kids who can probably afford a better sound system and drinks than this” 

“Oh hush, you’re just in a sour mood because Veronica isn’t here yet” Zoey pinches Bea on her arm, “ow ow, okay, it doesn’t make it any less true though. I mean you practically begged me to invite her” 

“Shut up. I don’t care if she’s here or not. But let's just say I’ve been doing a lot of wishful thinking and I’m wearing my best bra tonight” she gives Bea a sly wink who just laughs. “So,, I still can’t believe you let Poppy off that easily after the shit that happened on monday” 

Bea stiffens a little, her expression quickly sobering as she turns to face Zoey, “look, we spoke about it and we’re moving past it. I told her she isn’t exactly out of the dog house but I’m not gonna sit here and wallow about it. What’s done is done” she gives Zoey a fixed look, meaning that she was done talking about it and Zoey raises her hands in defence

“Maybe if you let me beat Chloe’s ass then I would let Poppy off” Bea playfully shoves Zoey with her shoulder, “only if I can join you”, the two girls laugh until Zoey catches Bea staring into the inside of her cup, her eyes barren. “Hey, I’m sorry for bringing it up. It just pisses me off that those entitled bitches think they can do shit like that” 

Bea solemnly shakes her head, “well, it’s Isabella’s fault to be honest. Everywhere I go, it’s like I’m haunted by her past and all the shit she’s done. Like they all expect me to become a deadbeat like her” 

Zoey empathetically rubs Bea’s back, as the brunette clenches her jaw slightly to stop her lips from quivering, and she blinks back the tears forming in her eyes before letting out a sad laugh, “God, you just told me to lighten up and I just made this entire atmosphere depressing” 

“Bitch, who cares? You’re my best friend, you know you can talk to me about anything, anytime” she gives Bea a one armed hug while balancing her drink and when the hug breaks off she drains the rest of her cup. “Do you want another drink?” Bea shakes her head and Zoey flounces off to grab another drink. Bea bops her head along to the music until a pair of hands cover her eyes from behind her, and a soft voice whispers in her ear, “guess who?” 

Bea grins and delicately removes the hands from her eyes and turns around to see Poppy in her skin tight pink dress and moves in to give a long lingering kiss. “You finally made it” she kisses the strawberry blonde again before realising Veronica is standing behind Poppy with her arms crossed waiting as her eyes move to scan the backyard. “Hey Veronica, if you’re looking for Zoey she went inside a few minutes ago to get a drink” Veronica nonchalantly raises an eyebrow and looks towards the house, “well, I’m suddenly feeling parched, I’ll see you girls later” she gives them a wink and struts towards the house. 

Poppy laughs while shaking her head but stops when she sees Bea appraising her, looking at her up and down with lust in her eyes. Poppy gives Bea her signature smirk and does a small twirl for the brunette, “so you like what you see?” 

Bea moves towards the girl, hugging her curves while staring into the blonde’s eyes with undisguised desire, “mmhmm, you look gorgeous”, she nods towards the group of people who are dancing along to the music, “dance with me?” 

Poppy grabs Bea’s hand and manoeuvres her to the middle of the makeshift dance floor and the girls laugh, drink and dance for a couple of songs until Bea whispers into Poppy’s ear, “let’s get out of here” 

She takes the blonde’s hand and moves towards the inside of the house and they stumble towards the bedrooms, and when they open the first door they simultaneously gasp when they see Veronica and Zoey making out on the bed, both girls half naked. 

“Oh my god Bea get out” Zoey throws a pillow towards the door and in response Bea throws her head back laughing, “sorry, sorry, but the bra is kinda cute Zo”. Zoey gives Bea the finger as they leave the room and eventually, they find an empty bedroom and are already locked in a passionate embrace before the door even closes. 

Bea roughly shoves Poppy against the door pressing her lips to Poppy’s, devouring her as her tongue slips into the blonde’s as her moans set the brunette alight. Bea caresses her tongue with Poppy’s and breaks the kiss to start kissing down her neck and then her jawline until she reaches the sensitive spot behind her ear and begins to suck at it. A moan escapes Poppy’s lips as her hands wrapped around the taller girl’s neck as her eyes roll back begging for more. 

Bea pulls back and the two girls begin shredding off their clothes before jumping into the strangers bed, their lips locked once again, reigniting the very same passion. Bea sits up and leads Poppy onto her lap, she grabs the blonde’s hips and presses her down onto her thigh before whispering into her ear, “ride” and without missing a beat, Poppy does. She unrelentlessly presses her sensitive spot down on Bea’s thigh and rocks her hips, as she buries her face into the crook of Bea’s neck, muffling her moans. Bea feels the heat emitting from the blonde’s legs and lets out a groan as her hands grip Poppy’s hips even more and she begins alternating between kissing and sucking at the blonde’s chest. 

“Please Bea” Poppy’s breaths come in hot and heavy as she begs for release, so Bea decides to give into the desire and flips the blonde over, pressing her deeper into the mattress while her fingers play with the waistband of her panties. She slips her hand inside and uses her thumb to encircle her clit, before slipping a finger inside her, and she begins pumping. Poppy’s back arches off the bed, groans echoing in the room as Bea slips another finger in, letting the blonde’s moans guide her as she brings the girl to the edge and lets her ride in the orgasm not stopping until she slumps back into the bed. 

…. 

A little while later the girls get dressed and make their way back to the party where they see Zoey and Veronica in the corner whispering sweet nothings to each other and giggling. “They should just date already don’t you think?” Poppy leans on Bea’s shoulder, humming peacefully as she looks at the two girls. 

“They should but they won’t. They’re both terrible with commitment”, Bea places a sweet kiss on Poppy’s forehead, “drink?” 

“Yes please” 

Bea squeezes Poppy’s hand and strolls into the house to grab the drinks. While waiting for Bea, Poppy stands in the front yard staring up at the sky until a unfamiliar hand, cups her ass and whispers into her ear, “what’s a girl like you doing alone here”, Poppy jerks away form the stranger, her nostrils flaring as she gives the guy a deathly stare. 

“Don’t fucking touch me” 

“Wow, I like my girls rowdy” he tries to touch a stray piece of the blonde’s hair that sticks out but she grabs his wrist and pushes him back, her eyes scanning the front yard hoping Bea will be back. 

“Hey! What the hell is going on here?” AJ sidles up to Poppy as he begins to stare down the young man who just demeaningly laughs in AJ’s face. 

“Get outta here kid, can’t you see I’m talking to someone” 

“Well she has a girlfriend so get lost”. The stranger stares at Poppy, an unsettling glint in his eyes before he steps forward and puts two of his fingers under Poppy’s chin lifting her face a little, “so you’re a lesbo? Well we can change that”. Before Poppy can step back AJ shoves the boy back who in retort takes out a knife holding it out against AJ. “fuck off now”. 

After catching up with a few friends, Bea hears about a commotion in the front yard and rushes out to see AJ barricading Poppy with his body while someone holds out a knife to his chest. Poppy’s eyes flash when she realises Bea is here and Bea moves behind the figure and takes out a small pocket knife from her jeans and lightly presses it against the stranger’s neck. Poppy lets out a small gasp, her body trembles slightly as she takes in the fact that Bea is holding a knife. 

“I don’t know who the fuck you are but you better back the fuck off right now unless you want to get your throat slit” her voice is quiet but her tone is challenging. The stranger raises his hands in the air and Bea warily puts the knife down, avoiding any eye contact with Poppy. In a swift move, the stranger throws Bea’s knife out of her hand, puts her in a headlock and presses the knife against her throat, creating a small cut as blood lightly begins to trickle down her neck. 

“No!” Poppy moves forward but AJ steps in front of her and in a flash he grabs an object from the waistband of trousers and holds it up to the stranger. Everyone in the front yard begins to panic and move out of the way as they all segregate themselves from the confrontation.

“AJ stop” Bea pleads with the young boy when she realises he has a gun in his hand as he points it to the stranger. 

“Move away from her now or I’ll shoot” his voice trembles slightly as his hand shakes but he grips the gun tighter as his gaze pierces into the stranger. 

“You won’t do it” he presses his knife into Bea’s throat a little more, who just winces at the pain while Poppy painfully watches the ordeal unfold, her heart hammering into her eardrums. 

AJ places his hand on the trigger, his stance unwavering, “try me”. The stranger grimaces at AJ before removing his knife and pushing Bea forward, “you better watch your back kid” and with that he runs from the party. Poppy moves towards Bea, her hand cups the part of Bea’s neck with the cut and she turns to look at AJ, whose eyes are blank like he’s just seen a ghost. 

“AJ, I-” Bea steps towards AJ who just looks at Bea with grief and embarrassment, “I’m sorry Bea” he puts the gun back in his waistband and runs off without looking back. 

“What the fuck, Bea are you okay?” Poppy begins to examine the wound but Bea’s thoughts are enveloped in everything that just happened, her body trembles slightly as she takes in the fact that AJ now has a gun. In the background of the commotion, the fireworks are set off, colouring the sky in an array of colours but the girls can barely focus on them since they knew they were in deep shit.

read part 5 here

[zoey-wades]

Golden Boy

Characters: Carter Jackson x MC (Dionne Hughes

Rating: T

Summary: Dionne spends some quality time with a new friend and reevaluates her morals.

A/N: I have a type. And it’s jocks with a heart of gold.

——————————————————————

Dionne learned quickly that Carter Jackson didn’t have one malicious bone in his body.

When he knocked on the door of her room at 1 in the afternoon on a Saturday, she expected the worst. And, honestly, she kind of deserved it. Before her arrival to Belvoire, Carter probably had a very easy time with Poppy and his friends. All it took was a very public smooch and a dance routine to make it all come crumbling down.

She expected fireworks. Maybe even fire and brimstone.

Instead, she opened the door to find the 6’2 football star staring at his feet like a punished Dickensian orphan. The corners of his mouth were pulled into a deep frown, and his brows remained pinched as if he was in deep concentration. She couldn’t help but find the expression adorable, but kept her inappropriate opinion to herself.

“Carter?” She questioned, leaning against the door, “What’s going on?”

“Am I stupid?” He asked, finally looking up to meet Dionne’s eyes.

She instantly remembered an excerpt from a book she read as a child about how people with good thoughts had the loveliest faces. Carter was no exception. He radiated a softness in his eyes that made Dionne’s heart melt.

Not completely. But just enough to make her want to hug him. Instead, she mirrored his frown and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Of course you aren’t stupid. Why would you say that about yourself?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket, choosing to focus on his feet once again, “I don’t know. Poppy always said I was when she got mad at me. I know she was just mad, and she probably didn’t mean it. But she’s not the only one to ever say it. And...I don’t know, Di, this time I think I really fucked up.”

If Dionne was heartless, she would ask why he was coming to her with his existential crisis. If anything, she was the last person he should be seen with after Poppy’s post-game meltdown. But, against her better judgment, Dionne stepped back and allowed him a way to pass into her dorm room.

“Come sit with me, I’m about to make some lunch,” she offered him the warmest smile she could, letting Carter know that he was safe in her space. The minute he crossed the threshold, his eyes lit up.

“Hey, it smells good in here. Like sugar cookies.”

He looked around the decorated living room, searching for the source of the scent before Dionne pointed at the candle on the counter.

“It kind of reminds me of my grandmother’s house,” she explained, a more genuine smile gracing her features, “A nice scented candle makes any place feel a little more comfy.”

Carter eyed the large Yankee Candle with raised brows, “The Alphas could totally use that in the bathroom!” He paused, “I hope one of us doesn’t get fucked up and try to eat it though.”

At this, a giggle bubbled out of Dionne that she would be ashamed of under other circumstances. It was the kind of giggle you give when you’re 12 and the person you like makes a terrible joke. Was Carter’s comment that funny? No. Was he trying to be funny? Dionne wasn’t sure. But damn it she was going to giggle anyway. The sweet smile that spread across his face made the nauseating gesture worth it.

But it was time to get to the meat of the problem. She sat on the kitchen barstool and patted the seat across from her, “Let’s chat, Jackson.”

He blinked as if waking up from a daze, “Right, I did come here for that reason.”

Sitting across from Dionne, Carter shifted a bit uncomfortably and shoved his hands back in his pockets.

“Now,” Dionne crossed one leg over the other—not for any particular reason—and noticed his eyes flicker down to her thighs before focusing back on her face, “What makes you think you’re stupid? You do well in class don’t you?”

He sucked his teeth and shrugged, “I do alright. But what if they’re just passing me to keep me on the team?”

“Well, what if they’re not?” Dionne gently challenged. The look he shot her screamed “Are you kidding, Di?” and she continued on, “I’m serious. What if you’re actually doing well?”

Carter laughed bitterly, “Poppy has a point, sometimes. She talks about things—finances, social stuff—I don’t always understand it. I want to. But...” he drifts off, as if shuffling through his thoughts, “I’m used to being called stupid. But this time I think Poppy actually meant it. I know I sometimes get things wrong, but this time I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Dionne listened carefully as Carter sorted out his thoughts, and laid them out on the table for her. She was angry at the ways people made him feel mentally inferior, while banking on his body for social and financial gain. He concluded with a deep, tired sigh.

After some thought, Dionne finally responded in a gentle, measured tone, “Carter, there’s more than one way to be intelligent. What you’ve just expressed to me is a deep sense of emotional intelligence that most people take their whole lives to figure out. Your teammates love and respect you. Your brothers respect you. You’re a natural leader and an honest person.” She smiled at him, “Professor Kingsley even told me that they really enjoyed your time in their class.”

Carter’s eyes widened, “They said that?”

She nodded. It was half-true. Kingsley admired that Carter was so easy to get along with, and seemed to genuinely enjoy learning even if he found it difficult. He maintained a C-average in that class, but she wasn’t going to bring that up now.

There was a brief silence between them as Dionne daintily picked at her chicken salad. She wanted to devour it, but she kind of hated eating in front of people. She doubted Carter would really care, but...

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and suddenly much closer to her now than he was a few moments before. She fought the instinctual urge to raise a questioning brow, as he still seemed lost in his own thoughts and completely unaware of the action.

“I don’t know why Poppy doesn’t like you,” he said, locking eyes with her, “But you seem really cool. Like someone I could talk to. Zoey, too! But mostly you.” He twisted back and forth on the swivel chair, “Sometimes, it gets super hard being one of the few black people on this campus. Like, I love my bros. They’re the best. But it’s really nice having you around.”

“Well,” Dionne began, “Maybe I’m not as cool as you think I am. Maybe I’m just as bitchy as Poppy is, and you just don’t know it.”

She was half-joking, but he seemed surprised by the statement.

“Poppy really isn’t that bad,” he returned his hands to his pockets and leaned away from her. Back in defense mode, she guessed, “She might be kind of mean sometimes. And she yells a lot when she’s stressed. But when she’s chill and not mad, she’s actually really fun to be around. She just doesn’t really handle anger well.”

Understatement of the century.

Considering how much Poppy tore down this guy’s self esteem, it was wonder why he was so willing to jump to her defense. Would she do the same for him? Every time she saw them together, she was more focused on maintaining her dignity than enjoying the people she surrounded herself with. It had to be a lonely experience for both Poppy and Carter.

“Do you love her?” The question slipped out before Dionne could stop it, and she regretted it immediately when another frown pulled at Carter’s lips, “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business. You don’t have to answer that.”

He shrugged and fidgeted with something in his pocket, choosing to avoid eye contact, “I think I do...My parents do. Everyone says she’s good for me. I think I’m good for her too.”

Dionne was probably about to step onto a land mine, but it was a risk she was willing to take.

“Someone who makes you doubt your worth in the world isn’t someone who’s good for you,” she stated, slowly.

“But what if I’m not much better than she is?”

She smirked, “Copying my lines now?”

He returned another half-hearted chuckle, “I mean it, Dionne. If Poppy is as horrible as people say, and I love her anyway, what does that say about me?”

She considered this for a moment. If Carter could see the way Poppy spoke to people, and still chose her over and over, what did that say about him? Did he ignore it if it wasn’t directed at him? Did he make excuses?

“It says that you’re human, I guess,” she finally responded. She noticed his soft sigh of relief, and made a mental note for later, “Sometimes, when you love someone, you’re willing to overlook the flaws because you want to see the best in them. You know?”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience?”

Dionne stiffened and avoided his gaze, which now seemed determined to burn a hole through the side of her face.

“No,” she quickly stated, “I’ve never loved anyone.”

“You’re telling me you can give me this advice without any experience,” he chided, “and I’m supposed to believe you?”

“I’ve never been in a relationship,” suddenly her salad was super interesting. She bit into a crisp cucumber slice as Carter considered her answer.

“Hmm...that’s surprising,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, “I mean, I think you’re really cute and really smart. It’s hard to believe you haven’t been with anyone at all.”

It was true. Dionne was cute. Anyone with eyes could see that. And she had her reasons for remaining single. But the gentle earnestness in Carter’s words and expression made the heat rise in her cheeks. He seemed completely oblivious to the effect he had on people, Dionne specifically. It made her feel...things.

She didn’t like it.

She cleared her throat and shrugged, casually, “I have standards.”

Just as Carter opened his mouth to respond, his phone vibrated dully in his pocket. He quickly glanced at the message, and his shoulders slumped, “Damn. I gotta head out, I forgot I had to meet with the coach before practice. Can we pick this up again, later?”

“Sure, of course,” Dionne nodded her understanding, “let me walk you out.”

As they walked side by side to her front door, she could admit to herself that this conversation made her feel something akin to guilt. Maybe. Here he was, being so sweet to her, after she used him just to get under his now ex-girlfriend’s skin. That wasn’t her initial intent. Kissing him and asking for his help was simply a means to an end, but she never considered how he’d become collateral damage. And she definitely didn’t factor in this slowly blossoming fondness for him.

As he passed through the doorway, she reached for his arm, “Wait.”

He raised a brow at her, “What’s up?”

“I just wanna say sorry,” she swallowed, “For everything that happened.”

“What happened?”

“You know...kissing you. Asking you to help. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I’m sorry it ended up this way.”

He stared at her for what felt like an absurdly long period of time before opting to lean against the door frame, “Dionne, you have nothing to be sorry about. I may not be Professor Einstein or whatever, but I know that everything happened because I wanted it to. Do you understand?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

She studied the intensity of his face—that goddamn face—in complete silence. For once, she was at a loss for words. She nodded, latching her teeth into her lower lip. His eyes followed the action, and he grinned at her before pushing away from the door.

“I’ll see you around?” There he was again. Sweet Carter. Golden Boy Carter. Maybe he wasn’t entirely ignorant of the effect he had on her. That made him a problem.

“Yeah. See you around,” she mumbled back.

[yourstrulytrinaextras]

Third Time’s The Charm: Best Man and Maid of Honor

“And when will it be your turn Zoey?” a few of Avery’s aunts teased the bride’s blonde best friend. Like always, Zoey took it in stride and flashed them a polite smile.

It was exhausting.

“When I meet the right person,” she replied easily, “I’m still waiting for the Leon to my Avery.”

A round of laughter erupted the small circle and Zoey held back from releasing a sigh, hiding her disdain behind her champagne glass as she took a sip. Don’t get her wrong, she was beyond happy for Avery and every moment watching her best friend fall in love with Leon had been nothing short of a great memory.

But she was admittedly jealous. No, not because she wanted Leon, but because she also wanted to fall in love and have that special person by her side. Her love life, in the simplest of terms, had been absolute shit.

Men would always approach her and she hated those leering looks. The one guy she genuinely liked, Christian, turned out to be an asshole. It was a miracle that she managed to salvage her friendship with Lauren, although it became a little awkward between them.

Should’ve listened to Avery when she said that he wasn’t good for me.

Right, her best friend was the one more experienced with love between them. She was one of those girls that constantly had boys chasing her, but she was oblivious to them most of the time.

Mostly because she had tunnel vision for the guy she liked.

She was loyal to Leon, even when they were apart for college. Zoey had lost count how many times she complained that some guy was hitting on her even after she told them that she had a boyfriend. Other times, she was oblivious that someone was already making moves on her. Her popularity surged a number of arguments between Leon and her.

Because even though Leon was handsome and had a lot going for him, he used his cold personality to shake off anyone who might be interested.

But Avery wasn’t like that.

She was warm, kind, and very welcoming. If you add that to her beauty, it would be understandable that it was easy to fall for her.

Perfect Avery.

And Zoey was so proud that her best friend was so admired, even if she felt left out at times.

Although she would have loved it if her aunts didn’t bombard her about the fact that she was single. With another internal sigh, Zoey hatched her escape plan, “I think the alcohol is getting to me. Mind if I step out a bit for some fresh air?”

Nobody opposed and she swiftly made her way out towards the back garden as elegantly as she possibly could. She had been busy during the weeks leading up to the wedding as the maid of honor, she would now use the remaining time of the rehearsal dinner to relax.

Once the outside air reached her skin, she finally felt like she could breathe. They’ve decided on a venue away from the main city and it was nothing short of gorgeous. Leon’s parents didn’t spare any expense for their only son and future daughter-in-law’s wedding.

Avy really did choose the best one.

Leon had many admirable traits, but the thing that she liked the most about him was how he treated her best friend. Sure, there were arguments here and there but that was normal for any couple. At the very end of the day, he was always attentive and loving. He made sure that Avery knew that he was hers.

Just as she repeatedly assured him that she was his.

“Zoey?” she heard someone call her name and she internally cursed. It was either one of the older relatives who would badger her on her relationship status or it was one of the men daring enough to hit on her.

But when she whipped around, she was instantly relieved at the man standing in front of her.

“Patrick,” she let out a smile, glad that it was someone she knew, “Are you also here to escape?”

Patrick Vincent was the groom’s best man. If she was being honest, a bulk of what she knew about him was from the past months they’ve been talking in order to help their best friends plan the wedding. Since he was the best man and she was the maid of honor, they spent ample of time together.

Whether it was accompanying Leon and Avery with choosing their reception menu or diligently sending off the invitations, they were together.

“If I get asked one more time when it’s my turn to get married, I might explode,” he chuckled, nervously eyeing the door as if another relative would jump out and ask him again.

“Seems like we’re in the same position,” Zoey laughed, “So shall we make a run for it?”

“What?”

She pointed beyond the parts of the garden that was visible, “There’s an area where garden chairs and tables are set up, I saw them when I was wandering around during daytime. Nobody will bother us if we’re there.”

A grin immediately found its way onto his face, “Lead the way!”

She walked ahead with him a few steps back, watching as her blonde hair swayed and the skirt of her dress moved with every step.

Beautiful.

He was admittedly attracted to her from the first time he saw her – that moment in the café. Avery, who had just rejected him, was sitting there on a table with a friend that had her back turned to him and Leon. Patrick saw the small pink hue tinting Leon’s cheeks as he looked at their brunette classmate.

Patrick figured it out before that Leon liked her and in fact, he felt guilty that he was openly displaying his affections in front of him. But when he realized it, and also that Avery might have felt the same way, the rejection became easier to accept.

Because at the end of the day, both Avery and Leon were his friends. Even though he was crossed out of the picture, he learned how to be happy for them.

He knew that Leon was too bashful to call her attention, so he took it upon himself to do it, “Avery?”

Just to save his best friend the embarrassment, he chose to ignore the small smile that appeared on Leon’s face when Avery acknowledged them and subtly gestured for them to go to their table.

“Hey fancy seeing you here,” Patrick greeted in an attempt to be casual.

“Pat, this is Zoey,” Avery said, gesturing to her friend, “Zoey, this is Pat.”

And that was the first ever time that Patrick laid his eyes on the woman who would soon turn to be his longest standing crush.

He was, to cut it short, smitten by her at first sight.

She captured him, she had his every single ounce of attention. At that very moment, the bustling café turned quiet and everything ceased to exist. All he could see was her – the way her lips curved up into a smile, the way her delicate fingers released the fork she was holding, the way her blue eyes became more prominent under the café’s lighting.

She was beautiful and that was the moment he knew that he was fucked.

“See?”

His dwelling on the past was cut short when he realized that they finally stopped. Zoey was gesturing grandly to the small chairs and tables, waiting for his reaction.

He plastered a smile and pulled out one of the chairs, bowing his head playfully, “Have a seat, milady.”

Her tinkering laughter entered his ears as she lowered to the seat, causing him to blush. He was glad that it was still rather dark even with the few garden lights so it wasn’t obvious.

Zoey finally released a sigh after masking her exasperation since the day started. Dealing with nosey people left and right was exhausting, she was glad that she could at least be herself even for a few moments.

Because Patrick was someone she grew to be comfortable with.

And a small fact that she desperately hid from Avery – she had a crush on him.

She didn’t know when it started but she found herself staring at him when she thought that no one was looking, she got all giddy if she heard from Avery that he would be accompanying them, she looked forward to the small moments that they were alone.

She started looking forward to seeing him.

He was a very sweet guy and treated everyone around him well. Leon was never short of praises for him and even Avery shared the same sentiment. She always said that she loved Patrick, as a friend of course, and always went on of how good of a person he was.

And he treated Zoey with nothing but respect, he never tried to test his boundaries.

Zoey, no matter how dense she was when it came to dealing with the opposite sex, figured out long ago that he liked her. He was so obvious with the way he constantly blushed and stuttered whenever they were talking. However, she was still stuck on her crush on Christian back then so she chose to pretend that she didn’t know.

Then years passed by and their interactions were limited to when Avery and Leon were there.

But when they started becoming close because of all the wedding prep, it was her turn to become a mess in front of him. It was a good thing she knew how to handle her emotions well so she was always composed around him, but if he only knew what was going on inside her head whenever she was in his presence.

She wanted to be with him.

And she prayed with all her might that he would ask her out. She wasn’t sure anymore what he felt – mostly because Patrick also learned how to control his emotions so now he was composed in front of her.

But the wedding was tomorrow and after that, they would no longer have any reason to be alone together.

As much as she wanted to be with him, she was afraid to make the first move. She was highly inexperienced with relationships and again, she was unsure how he felt towards her.

Was she simply his best friend’s wife’s best friend?

“I can’t believe they’re getting married tomorrow,” Patrick said, tilting his head back to look at the sky, “Seems like yesterday when Leon was throwing a hissy fit because Avery called him a pet name.”

“Wait, that happened?” she gasped. If Avery didn’t tell her that then it meant that it was a minute detail, so insignificant that it probably didn’t matter much.

But she was still excited to learn a new piece of information. She admitted that she was slightly upset that there were things she wasn’t aware of that others were, but it was understandable since they did go to different high schools.

“Yeah, it was the first time Avery called Leon angel,” he laughed lightly at the memory, “He was against it, but he was already weak to Avery’s whims even before they got together so he just allowed her.”

“It would have been so fun to watch them get together,” she hummed wistfully, causing Patrick to look at her. She had this small sad smile on her face, her eyes pointed towards his direction but her gaze went past him, “I’ve known Avery the longest but since we went to different schools, it felt like we both missed out on huge chunks of each other’s lives.”

She was also jealous of how easy it was for Avery to get along with people. She was definitely the more sociable one of the two and making friends was like breathing air for her. Zoey, even though she acted forward at times, was still rather shy compared to her. And even if she gained a friend, she would have a tough time deepening their friendship to the point that they would hang out beyond school days.

Lauren was the exception and she was so happy that she met her, but because of her fleeting relationship with her brother, that turned into dust.

“You know, Leon once told me that he thought he was the second fiddle,” Patrick spoke with a small hint of amusement, trying to get her attention away from her musings, “Because Avery always ran to you first before him. Whether it was good news or bad, you are the first person she would call.”

Funny, Avy said the same thing about Patrick and Leon’s friendship.

“Don’t stress yourself out too much that you never witnessed those moments, because you know more about Avery than anyone else,” he assured with a smile, “Even after your speech earlier, she called you her sister in front of all the guests. She loves you a lot.”

She knew already of everything he told her because she always felt so secure of her friendship with Avery. But to still hear it out loud brought a sense of warmth to her and it enveloped her being, stripping her away from her brief moment of sadness.

Oh no, I really do like him.

As if her first realization of her feelings weren’t enough, now she just had to remind herself all over again. Now it was her turn to blush and she internally cursed – it was his fault for being so kind and charming.

But Patrick, who had his gaze fixated on her face watched as her eyes widened and the skin on her cheeks to the tip of ears turned pink. He was sure that it wasn’t the make-up she was wearing.

It was his turn to be flustered.

No matter how much he liked her, he didn’t dare to get his hopes up. This was Zoey he was talking about, she was practically perfect in every way. No matter how confident he was in flirting with other girls, he was never sure with her.

No, she just might be touched because of what I said about Avery.

So he took a deep breath, willing his nerves to calm down before pushing himself up to his feet, “I think we should go back now. The maid of honor and best man shouldn’t be away too long.”

Right now, she really did hope that she had Avery’s bravery when it came to the guy she liked.

She remembered that Avery was the first one to approach Leon when she asked for his number. Zoey was envious how forward she could be.

“Just one time,” she whispered to herself, “You can do it just one time.”

Her hushed voice still caught his ears, causing him turn back to her, “What did you say?”

Her hands balled up her skirt momentarily, trying to pull out any guts she had in her, before standing up with this look of pure determination. She stared at him in the eyes, her face probably beet red at this point, “Please go out with me.”

And that one sentence somehow exhausted her because she collapsed back onto her seat, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She had eyes trained on the hands on her lap because she felt like if she looked at him, she would faint.

He was silent.

Is this the part where I wave it off as a joke?

But then she heard movements and suddenly, she saw his feet right in front of her. She gathered whatever bravery she had left and lifted her gaze to meet his.

Shock, confusion, and pure unadulterated happiness.

“Don’t say it’s a joke,” he muttered, his knees bending so he could bring their faces closer, “Please, for the love of all things good in the world, don’t say it’s a joke.”

Zoey was mesmerized to see him this close and even if she was still a ball of anxiety, she didn’t move away. Instead, she dared to lift a hand and softly grazed his cheek, “I’m not joking.”

Without a moment too soon, he gently brushed his lips against her, testing the waters. She was taken aback at first, but she ached for more of that tingling sensation.

So she wounded her arms around his neck to pull him down to her and captured his lips. For him, it felt like years of tension melted away with the kiss and a wave of relief hit him. The girl he admired since high school liked him.

And for her, it was hope. She felt it in her that he was the one who would treat her well, that he wouldn’t hurt her. All those years of staying single, of those laps of heartbreak, were just a build up to this very moment.

He placed his hands on her waist and tugged her up to a standing position so it would be less comfortable for him. They briefly pulled away and when they caught each other’s eyes, they exchanged a small laugh before resuming their kiss.

Everything felt so right, like even the universe was waiting for this very moment.

Unknown to them, there was another pair hidden behind the tall hedges nearby, grinning ear to ear at them.

Avery and Leon started to get concerned when neither the best man nor the maid of honor was anywhere to be seen inside the venue. So they went around to look, holding back their gasps when they saw the two in a lip lock.

“Finally,” they whispered at the same time, causing them to rip their gaze away from the newly formed couple in order to look at each other. They laughed quietly at this as they slowly stepped away.

They were truly soulmates.

“Come on, we have to walk the aisle tomorrow,” Avery grinned, taking his hand and leading him back into the building, “My dear husband.”

“Yes, my dear wife,” Leon chuckled as a response, falling into step next to her.

Side by side, as the universe meant it to be.

[sherlockxreader]

A Time Of Change - Chapter Four - Unknown Deductions

Title: A Time Of Change Chapter Four: Unknown Deductions Summary: Ava Bradford. Behavioral Analyst of the Miami Police Department. Or former Analyst after the events of the past force her to journey to England and take up a job away from the family she had created. Here, she struggles to keep to herself and her life under control, quickly takes over as she readies for her future on Baker Street. Author: Alexa @alex-awesome1023 Words: 3,766 Characters/Relationships: OC x Sherlock Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Past Physical Abuse, Nightmares Author’s Notes: So far so good, everything seems to be flowing pretty good I hope you guys like the first meeting I was super excited for everyone to read this part so i hope you guys like it and if you have any question comments or concerns please feel free to contact me or Maddy! Sorry if i didn't get all of you in the tag i’m still new at this and i don’t know when people send me stuff and the main page. Just send it to Maddy and let me or her know if i didn't put you in or want to be in the tag list. P.S. Its my birthday next Saturday and I’m super excited! 19 is a weird age haha...

Original Character Ava Bradford is inspired by Zoey Deutch. And the credit for the photos and gifs go to google and the people of Tumblr! Enjoy!❤

They enter the room. It’s somber, dark, and the wallpaper is peeling in the corners. In the center of the room there is a flash of pink and a small person kneeling next to the body. It's the same person that Sherlock saw go up the stairs.

You examined the body like it were a puzzle. Running your fingers over the victim’s back and under the collar of the vibrant pink jacket, you felt the dampness it held, most likely from rain. But it hadn’t rained recently in London. You inspect every little detail. Sherlock watches in fascination as you, an unknown girl to him, inspect the body with speed on par to his own. He knows what you are doing by the look in your eye, seeing you reading all the little details and the ideas pop into your head. It was what he felt every day of his life. She’s deducing.

“Oh, this is our newest detective on the job. Detective Bradford.“ Lestrade said noticing that Sherlock had stopped at the entrance to look at you. But you didn't move or even acknowledge them, you were too lost in your own deductions that you didn't register that Lestrade was speaking.

You leaned over the inspect the outflung hand. The victim had scratched in a message with her fingernails into the floorboards, the wood streaked with her nail polish and dried blood. As you looked at the note, you ran your fingers over each individual letter - Rache. German for revenge. Is she… No. It can't be that. Too obscure. You slightly shake your head and push away the idea, trying to think of anything else that would make sense of the message.

“Rachel….” You whisper to yourself just loud enough for the three men behind to hear. But why choose to write this name as your last words?

“Ava?” Lestrade said once again but you were still very much oblivious and stuck in your own thoughts. You get up from your place on the floor with wide eyes, looking round the room aimlessly. What is she looking for? Sherlock thought to himself quirking his brow.

“It’s not here. That’s weird. Why is that weird?” You rambled to yourself, trying to piece every little detail together like the jigsaw it was. “Oh. Oh! It’s mur-!”

“Ava!” Lestrade said more sternly, trying to get your attention. You jumped at the tone and whipped around, finally realizing that you were no longer by yourself. Sherlock saw your expression falter as you turned around, catching his gaze, but before he could identify it, you caught yourself and hid it from his sight. How interesting.

“Oh sorry, I didn't hear you come in. I’m Detective Ava Bradford, I deal with Behavioral Analysis and Criminology.” Looking at the three men and meeting Sherlock’s hard gaze, you gave him a quick look up and down and smiled politely. Looking over at John, you stopped and with a slight tilt of your head, you deduced him almost automatically, his physical characteristics too much of a give away into his past. “You’re a soldier, or were. Afghanistan or Iraq?” You held out your hand in greeting. John exchanged looks with Lestrade and Sherlock, who was at a loss for words. He took your hand and your theory was confirmed with the strong and proper handshake he gave. You could almost feel the slight tremor in his hand. A strong heart.

“I’m John Watson and it was Afghanistan, but how did you…” He seemed to remember something, by the way his mouth quirked up at the side in astonishment. “You’re like him, aren’t you?” John’s face brightened as he pointed towards Sherlock.

“I see the military career in your face and in the way you carry yourself. You should probably find a new therapist though. They’ve got you all wrong. And if your asking if I’m like The Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes over here, then yes, you could say that.” You smirked at John before you looked over at very tall man once more, practically towering over you, beginning your deductions on him as well. Wow, I thought I was short before. “You… like being the centre of attention, the smartest in the room. But there's something more...” You looked up at him deep in eyes and tried to see what it was that you were looking for, little did you know Sherlock was doing the same to you.

Nothing. I can't read her. He thought to himself, getting agitated at the fact that you were a mystery to him, a book that was closed with a lock, whereas you had gotten at least something from him. You both noticed the awkward silence in the room, making you break the trains of thought that you shared. The heavy air in the room made the thoughts of everybody around you all the more obvious, making your nerves jump as you realize what you had done.

“I’m sorry. I tend to ramble when I’m thinking and then I just speak my thoughts out loud. Just ignore me. Please, continue on with the case. Greg, may I talk to you for a moment?” You exit just outside the door, beginning to go through what you found from the body.

“Ok, what is it?” He asked, curious as to what your abilities were like in comparison to Sherlock’s.

“This is a lot bigger than just four impossible suicides. It's murder. I don't know how yet but it's murder. There is a suitcase missing and we need to find it. I need to find it.” You rambled on not really waiting for his response.

“Woah, woah wait. How is it murder? How can you tell? And what suitcase?” He asked with a hard gaze.

“Her suitcase!” You implied, not making yourself any clearer and not waiting to hear his response, you go back in the room to see what Sherlock had come up with. Catching the satisfied grin on his face as he was taking off his latex gloves, you couldn’t help but think in the back of your mind that you wanted to see it again. No, focus. Sentiment is weakness.

“Got anything?” You hear Greg perk up behind you, hoping he would have an insight into what you were suggesting.

“Not much.” Mr. Holmes simply said as he got up from his place on the ground.

You were near the door when you heard an unwanted voice come through. “She’s German. Raché, German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us something.” Anderson chimed in from his place in the doorway, making Lestrade and John turn around, you roll your eyes. You saw Sherlock walk towards the door, his eyes to his phone and his hand out ready to shut out the offending person. You took the liberty of doing so for him, closing the door harshly on Anderson’s face. Sherlock’s head whipped to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squinted as you rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet, confident in your actions.

“I’m sorry did you hear something?” You caught the satisfied grin on Sherlock’s face once more before he turned around and continued typing away at his device. You ignored the little flutter in your chest that arose when you came to the realisation that you had caused that smirk.

“So she’s German?” Lestrade asks, looking at Sherlock. You roll your eyes again.

“Of course she’s not, but she is from out of town from a place called Cardiff I do believe.” You pulled out your phone as you remembered seeing heavy rain around that part when you were looking at the weather in Lestrade’s office. I hate the rain, the memories would always come with the storms and cloud my brain. Noticing the silence in the room, you looked up to see Sherlock’s beautiful eyes locked on yours. Stop with the sentimentality already! Get a hold of yourself! “It’s obvious isn’t it?”

“Sorry – obvious?” You heard John ask, making you look break your gaze with the detective. “H-How is that obvious?” His question went unanswered as Lestrade paced the room, his arm crossed over his torso, the other resting atop it with his fist under his chin.

“What about the message, though?” His question went unanswered as the thoughts in the room scattered from one another.

“Doctor Watson, what do you think?” Sherlock asked. Oh, so he’s a Doctor too.

“Of… the message?” John’s voice trailed off as he looked to the two people who were clearly above his intellect.  Sherlock rolled his eyes while you avoided his gaze, not wanting to humiliate John any further in front of his… partner?

“Of the body. You’re a medical man after all.” With a deep glare he replied to the Doctor.

“Wait, no. You can’t... we have a whole team right outside for that.” Lestrade gestured towards the door. “I’ve already let him on the scene but I can’t just let him go do what he wants with the body.”

“You can and you will. The others won't work with me.” You saw Sherlock’s focus flicker at the end, the topic obviously a sore point with the man.

“I’m breaking every rule letting you in here.”

“Yes… Because you need me.” Sherlock turned his whole attention towards Lestrade, glancing at you for just the sliver of a moment. Lestrade considered the detective’s words for a brief time but, relentlessly, he let his head drop to his chest.

“Yes I do, God help me.” Sherlock gave a short nod of his head to John, who had crouched down near the body, his hand hovering over the woman’s coat.

“Doctor Watson.”

“Hm? So...” John looked up from the body, looking to Sherlock and then to Lestrade, a little unsure of what he was meant to be doing in the room of professionals. He waved his hand a little in a silent question to Lestrade.

“Oh do as he says, help yourself.” A little defeated, he walked outside, motioning his hand to Anderson to gain his attention. “Anderson keep everyone out for a couple of minutes.”

“You’re letting the freak run the show again?” You turned your head to the closing door, seeing Lestrade scowl harshly towards Anderson and begin to scold him before the door shut, blocking the scene from your eyes. You turned around, that pinch in your chest returning again when you realized that the ‘freak’ Sally had mentioned earlier was none other than Sherlock. Your gaze moved to his back as you looked over to the two men squatting next to the body. John leaned heavily on his cane and you could see the physical stress that crouching caused him. You listened as they exchanged muffled words only meant for the two of them. They seem close. You heard Lestrade come in behind you as John lowered himself closer to the body in order to better inspect the woman’s airways.

“Yeah ... Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can’t smell any alcohol on her though. It could have been a seizure; possibly drugs.” Looking quizzically towards Sherlock, his hesitation still evident on his face.

“You know what it was. You’ve read the papers.” Sherlock looked to John with an expression that egged the man on.

“She’s one of the suicides. The fourth…”

“The fourth in two weeks!” Nevertheless, Sherlock’s enthusiasm was a force to be reckoned with as he began to talk over the doctor.

“What I can’t understand is the victims connection to each other. This woman is in her late-”

“Late thirties, and works in the media going by her clothes and the coordinated pink everything.” You interrupted his quickening speech, staring down at the poor woman, your own excitement taking over. “She’s a serial adulterer, judging by the clean inner edge of her ring; she removed it with each man, polishing it unintentionally each time, but none of them knew she was in a unhappy marriage by the state of the ring itself; rarely cleaned and maintained though it’s at least fifteen years old.

“She traveled to Cardiff today on business. How I know she is from Cardiff is because I know Cardiff recently had a heavy rainstorm when I looked at the weather radar earlier today which is why the underside of her collar is wet; she flipped it up to shield herself from the rain and wind. The mud on the back of her right shoe and calf shows us that she had a suitcase, which is missing!” You finished in under a minute, a little flushed from the lack of air to your lungs.

“It’s brilliant.” John said in admiration staring at you from his spot in the room. You turned your head toward the doctor with a raised brow, surprised by the comment.

“Sorry.” He said quietly. You in return gave a small, cheeky grin, thinking about the compliment, your cheeks now red not only from your fast deductions previously.

“Okay just slow down a bit. Cardiff?” Lestrade shifted his feet back and forth, almost feeling Sherlock’s jealousy emanate from his tense body in the corner of the room.

“Uh yes. Her coat, it’s slightly damp. She’s been in heavy rain in the last few hours. Under her coat collar is damp too but the bit facing us isn’t, so she’s turned it up against the wind. She’s got an umbrella in her left-hand pocket but it’s dry and unused: not just wind, strong wind – too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, so she must have come a decent distance but she can’t have traveled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn’t dried.” You add pulling out your phone

“I just so happened to look at the weather radar earlier in your office out of boredom - I wanted to know when it was going to snow - and that’s when I saw that it was raining near there. The area, Cardiff.” You finish as you turned your phone to Lestrade to display today’s weather for the southern part of Britain.

“That’s fantastic.” John commented once again making you smile. You turned to him and whispered in a low voice.

“You know you do that out loud?” You chuckled at his cheeks as they turned a slight shade of pink.

“Sorry. I’ll shut up.” He said looking away in embarrassment.

“No it’s... nice.” You smiled, turning away from him as you remembered how you used to get bullied and called a freak or stalker, and a witch just by saying what you saw. It was simple observation, it wasn't a trick, though those few that did appreciate your talent never saw it as anything else. As you got older and as the hate outgrew the admiration, you simply just ignored all the comments and stopped deducing out loud. You had missed this, the occasional child-like wonder and puzzlement at your deductions. What you didn't know was that the detective saw your expression change with the new direction of your thoughts. It had become distant, sad, and something else he couldn't identify.

“Why do you keep saying suitcase?” Lestrade inquired.

“Ah yes, where is it? She must have had a phone or an organizer, a planner. Find out who Rachel is.” Sherlock said leaving his thoughts of you and returning to the case, shifting his eyes around the room.

“And she was writing Rachel?”

“No, she was leaving an angry note in German! Of course she was writing Rachel; no other word it can be. But the question is, why did she wait until she was dying to write it?” Sherlock barked at Lestrade making you shake your head at the situation. This must happen often.

“Now, where is it? What have you done with it?” You were wondering the same thing as you closed your eyes trying to think of where that damn suitcase went you hear Greg speak up.

“There wasn’t a case.” Lestrade answered shaking his head in confusion. Sherlock looked up at him slowly with a frown expression.

“Wait, what do you mean there is no case?” You asked as you opened your eyes and looked towards Lestrade, him taking a step back from the surprise on your face.

“There wasn’t a case. There was never any suitcase.” He said cautiously as he flicked his eyes between you and Sherlock, who had immediately straightened up and headed for the door, calling out to all the police officers in the house. “Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?” He bellowed as he made his way down the stairs.

The three of you follow him out and stop on the landing. “Sherlock, there was no case!” Lestrade calls down the stairs.

“There are clear signs. Even you lot couldn’t miss them.”

“Right, yeah, thanks! And ...?”

“It’s murder, all of them. I don’t know how, but they’re not suicides, they’re killings – serial killings.” He holds his hands up in front of his face in delight. “We’ve got ourselves a serial killer. I love those. There’s always something to look forward to.”

“Why are you saying that?” Lestrade asks making Sherlock stop and look up to the three of us.

“Her case! Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it?! Someone else was here, and they took her case.” You see him pause and say something quietly to himself, you barely making out what he said. “So the killer must have driven her here; forgot the case was in the car.”

“She could have checked into a hotel, left her case there.” John speaks up, breaking his silence and making Sherlock look to him for a moment.

“No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair! She colour-coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She’d never have left any hotel with her hair still looking…” He stops talking as he makes a realisation. “Oh. Oh!” You see his eyes go wide and his face lighten up as he claps his hands together in delight. You could almost see the gears in his head working at high speed even for you. You head back in the room to get a hold on your own thoughts, Sherlock was moving too fast for you to comprehend at this point. Closing your eyes you try to block out the world and try to figure this out.

What am I missing, there is something I’m missing. The killer was here, he made her take the pill herself but how? The missing case is what connects them. That's where he made the mistake. He forgot it was in the car… “That's it!” You shuffled towards the door out towards the landing where Lestrade and John still were and you hear Lestrade yell down to Sherlock.

“Of course, yeah – but what mistake?!”

“PINK!” Both you and Sherlock said in sync as he ran out of the building as you came up behind Greg and John. Lestrade, baffled by the whole thing, turns and goes back into the room while Anderson and his team, who had been waiting on the next landing down, hurry up the stairs and follow him into the room. John looked quite lost with all the commotion going on and you were about to enter the room but Johns expression and body language caught your attention. His leg is hurting him, seems agitated, and… Is on his way out.

You walk into the room getting Lestrade’s attention. “Greg, would it be alright if I left, I have a pretty good idea of what Mr. Holmes was telling us and I want to go question him further. And I can't really do much here that hasn't already been done.” You noted with a smile making your way to the door.

“Alright but you’re still on call, but I doubt you'll get anything from Sherlock, he works alone most of the time.” He said turning his attention towards you away from the body.

“So do I but here I am, working for your division.” You said with a wink as you exited the door.

He called out to you as you walked down to the landing. “Oh Ava, wait a moment. I… I’ve heard about your partner and I’m sorry about what happened. If you need to tal-”  

“Thank you Detective Inspector, but that won't be necessary.” You said flatly without turning around. Without waiting for him to respond you headed down the the stairs to catch up to the doctor. Lestrade had seen the fact that you were still sensitive about your old partner. The accident involving both you and your partner occured not a month before you came to London and he was worried that it would affect your work as well as others. Clearly you weren't over it yet. Who would be?

As you exit the building you release the breath you didn't know you were holding. You closed your eyes trying to calm the anxiety that was building in your chest, refusing to think of ‘that’ night. You wouldn’t allow yourself to think of ‘that’ knowing that your mind would replay the incident over and over and you would end up falling down that hole again. Taking a deep breath you snapped your eyes open and marched on. You were stronger now and didn't want to be that weak little girl anymore.

You walked out onto the road looking around to see if you could spot John. He was walking towards the main road. For someone with a psychosomatic limp he sure is fast. You quickened your pace to try to catch up to him only to be stopped by Donovan.

“You should watch your back with him” You stopped in your tracks as you heard Sally’s cocky remark.

“Sorry?” You asked stepping closer to her.

“Sherlock Holmes, he’s a freak and doesn’t need another one to encourage him.” She said fiddling with her radio. It took every nerve in your body to not shove it down her throat.

“You really should think more before you speak. You might actually say something intelligible then.” You walk away before the argument could escalate and make your chances of suspension rise. You look towards where John had been, but you couldn’t see the man with the cane anymore. You sigh and instead turn towards where Baker Street was, flagging down a cab as it passed, your thoughts plagued with pink, war and a detective.

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