#i made them a bit too thin here so expect an updated design soon

[sirshiba]

older mystery twins designs (id in alt)

[aliendes]

Natural Borns - Chapter Four

Banner made by @thebannershop​

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, (possible) smut NSFW due to darker themes

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: mentions of sadness, indecent thoughts? maybe, if you squint. it gets a little steamy, I suppose, but mostly just fluffy sadness, if that’s a thing. This series will have different trigger warnings listed for each chapter (if there are any), but as a whole, this series will include violence, mentions of depression & other mental illnesses, cursing, abuse, drugs/alcohol, some shitty medical descriptions because i am NOT a doctor, self-esteem issues, fluff, and possible smut in future chapters (but that’s undecided). i will add more warnings/tags in the future if there are any.

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 8k~ (whoops so sorry. if you like longer chapters like this, let me know!)

A/N: *deep breath* ok here is chapter 4. things are starting to heat up, but i cut this chapter in two because it was like over 12k long.... i go back to work tomorrow, so updates may start slowing down, but i’m hoping to post updates every Sunday night. i was feeling a little bit bogged down last week, not seeing as much influx with chapter three than i have with the other chapters. if you enjoy reading, please reblog so others can see it, too. thank you, as always. xx - Des

Updated: 8/9/2020

But the second he took one look at you, standing outside, wet and bloody, saw the look in your big beautiful eyes as he so heartlessly demanded things from you, he knew he stood no chance. 

Yoongi sat in his makeshift office on an old torn recliner they found in the warehouse. Surprisingly, the warehouse had been decently furnished when they found it. Granted, it was all old, worn furniture, but furniture nonetheless. The building was incredibly old, but it was also very large and had a lot of empty rooms on two levels. The entire place was made out of concrete, meaning it hasn’t seen much weathering over the years. It was a place they could call home for now. 

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and stared at his beloved laptop in front of him. He wasn’t trying to think about you, no, in fact, he wanted nothing more than to erase the memory of you. Try all he might, his thoughts kept wandering back to the scared, small girl he saw earlier tonight. He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes, letting his head loll back. 

The blonde man was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of footsteps outside his door. He picked his head up and spun around in his seat right as Hoseok came through the doorway. 

“Hey,” Hoseok said, leaning against the doorframe, “I heard they found her.” His tone was indifferent, not happy, nor sad. Hoseok didn’t really have an opinion on you yet, voicing to Namjoon he didn’t really mind either way if they found you or not.

“Have you seen her yet?” Yoongi asked the red head knowing he hadn’t, as his demeanor would’ve changed the moment he did.

Hoseok shook his head, confirming Yoongi’s suspicions. “Good,” was all Yoongi said in response.

Hoseok gave him a puzzled look, cocking his head to the side. A bright grin started to take over his face as he took in the disgruntled look on Yoongi’s. “Are you letting her get under your skin that quickly, Yoongs?” He asked the older man in a teasing voice. “Is that why you’re hiding away while they fix her up?”

Yoongi’s blonde head snapped up at Hoseok’s words. “What do you mean ‘fix her up’?”

Hoseok’s smile started to slowly fade from his face, leaving a knowing smirk in its place. “She was pretty banged up from what Jungkook said. Poor boy was distraught when he came running into my room earlier.” Hoseok watched Yoongi’s face closely as his lips pursed into a thin line and he tried to act as if he didn’t care about you. Hoseok could see right through him.

Yoongi tried to keep his breathing steady and stared Hoseok right in the eye. “Who cares,” he shrugged as he turned back around in his chair and started typing away at his laptop. 

“Who cares?” Hoseok asked rhetorically, “I think you do.” The red head walked over to Yoongi’s chair and put his hands on the back of it, pulling it down a bit so he could look into Yoongi’s eyes. He raised a questioning brow at the hacker, waiting for some kind of response.

“I don’t care about her,” he scoffed, “I don’t even know her.” Yoongi looked away from Hoseok as he spoke, knowing his closest friends would be able to see his lie. He didn’t want it to be a lie, what he was saying he wanted wholeheartedly to be true, but he knew it wasn’t. Why did he care about you? He really didn’t know you. But as Hoseok chuckled and walked away from the chair with a breathy ‘yeah right’, Yoongi’s thoughts just drifted to you.

“Please stay still,” Jin pleaded with you for the third time. You were currently laying on what you assumed was his bed while he took a look at all your wounds. He was looking at your bruised, and possibly fractured, according to him, ribs. It was painful and you weren’t sure how he expected you to stay completely still. 

You had been laying here for the last twenty minutes, staring up at the ceiling, going over your conversation with Namjoon prior to letting Jin take a look at your wounds. You had learned that the five of them had been staying here for the last three weeks. They stumbled upon the place when exploring the surrounding forest. It was devoid of life, but a lot of furniture and supplies had been left from workers or from kids who threw parties here in the past. They made it into a base of sorts, where they could live and work. Work, you learned, was mostly Yoongi trying to hack into Big Hit’s, and other companies, systems, while Namjoon dealt with contacting people and said companies to get more information. Apparently, they had found out about you through Jimin, who had overheard some of the lab techs talking about a female natural born living on the outskirts of Seoul. You still weren’t certain what exactly made you all ‘special’, but Namjoon had said it had something to do with the markers in your DNA that made you desirable to these designer baby companies.

Namjoon had also told you that they were planning on going to Big Hit soon, in hopes of getting Jimin and Taehyung out. As they helped you limp to Jin’s room, he told you that he and Jungkook were going to help Yoongi and Hoseok with the planning tonight, and told you to get some rest.

When you first got to Jin’s room, you were pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness of it. For an old warehouse, they really tried to make it feel homey. Seokjin’s room was small and looked like it used to be some kind of office or file room. There was a small double mattress in the corner, which you were currently laying on, a small desk on the opposite side of the room, a small wooden end table, and a couple of backpacks and duffle bags laying about. While everything in the room looked old and worn down, it still smelled nice. It smelled like Jin, like pine and soap. Speaking of soap…

“Hey - how do you guys have lights and running water here?” You were curious, previous experiences made you think this place was totally abandoned. 

Jin looked up from poking at your ribs, “Oh - Yoongi. He was able to get the electric and water companies to turn stuff on under a fake name,” he trailed off after noticing the apprehensive look on your face, “I know it’s not the most ethical way to go about things, but we don’t really have much of a choice right now.” The solemn look on his face told you that he regretted their actions, but truly had no other choice. 

You nodded at his answer and jumped a bit when he went back to putting cream on your ribcage. “Please - stay still YN.”

“Sorry, sorry. It just hurts,” you groaned out and he finished his work. Jin let out a short sigh before pulling your shirt back down your torso. He picked up one of your hands and started to unravel the bandages to clean and rebandage it. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quick,” he gave you a quick smile and gently ran the back of his knuckles along your bicep. You tried to ignore the way his action made you feel, he was just trying to comfort you, right? He was a caring person, and he probably just felt bad seeing you in pain. That’s what you told yourself anyway.

You went back to staring at the ceiling, biting the inside of your cheek and Jin disinfected your cuts and scrapes. The feeling of his hands on you leaving you confused. 

Once Seokjin had finished tending to your wounds, he gave you an old t-shirt and some sweatpants to change into before giving you a little privacy. After you had changed, you hobbled back over to the mattress and sat down. You stared around his room for a moment, finally letting the events of the day sink in.

You inhaled a deep breath as you thought back to everything that had happened. In just a few short hours, you had met these strange men who took you out to a forest and made you question your entire existence, witnessed your father make some kind of deal or exchange with a man who was likely trying to take you away, and ran away from your life, your family, and your friends. You didn’t even know who you could trust anymore, aside from probably Mina and Woo, but who knew when, or if, you would ever see them again. The thought alone made tears prick at the back of your eyes. You looked up to the ceiling to try and stop the hot tears from falling, to no avail. What were you getting yourself into?

As you felt a tear roll down your cheek, you heard a knock at the heavy door of Jin’s room. Quickly, you wiped the back of your hand at your face with a sniffle, before telling whoever was knocking to come in. 

To your surprise, it was Jungkook who walked through the door, not Jin or Namjoon like you had expected. You blinked owlishly up at him for a moment as he shut the door and ventured into the room. He took a few steps in your direction, hands behind his back, and looked even more shy than you had seen him earlier. 

“H-hey, noona?” He timidly asked, eyes locked on the floor.

Your eyes softened at his hesitancy. You made a sound of affirmation, urging him to continue speaking. Slowly he brought his hands from behind him back and extended them in your direction. He was holding a water bottle and a container of what looked like pain relievers. “Jin-hyung wanted me to tell you to take two of these,” he started, walking towards you with his hands outstretched like he was feeding a tiger, “and to drink the whole bottle.” 

You gave Jungkook a small smile as you took his offering. He seemed so sweet in that moment, you couldn’t stop yourself, “Jungkook?” Your voice made the poor boy jump a little, but he relaxed as soon as he saw your smile. His big doe eyes somehow got slightly bigger as he nodded his head at you. “How old are you?” You asked him, head cocked to the side.

“Twenty two,” he said easily. He’s only a year younger than you, it was odd to you he was so timid, almost childlike at times. You hummed in approval. You truly did want to get to know these men, and Jungkook seemed like such a sweet guy. He was shy, but you could tell he had a kind soul. You wondered what had happened to him to make him so quiet. You hoped you would find out with time. You had a sort of affinity toward him. Maybe it was because he had literally carried you through a forest without so much as a complaint. You weren’t entirely sure. 

The boy hesitated for a moment before turning around to walk out of the room. Just as he was about to reach the doorknob, he stopped and turned around to face you. “Noona?” His voice was so small, you almost asked him to repeat himself. Instead, you made a noncommittal noise, urging him to continue. “How old are you?” You wanted to coo at how cute Jungkook looked right now. Cheeks rosy, head slightly cocked to the side, eyes wide with mirth, almost like he was thankful for a reason to speak to you. 

You gave the boy a bright smile before answering, “Twenty three.”

Jungkook stared at you for just a second longer, before nodding once and leaving the room.

“Who the fuck is Pearl?” 

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders, not even looking up from the game he was playing on his phone. 

“Are you even listening to me Hobi?” Yoongi was aggravated, to say the least. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jungkook brought you to their base last night and he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep. Namjoon brought him your phone, asking him to remove data from it so it couldn’t be tracked. He did so immediately, but the damn thing was burning a whole in the back of his head while he tried to sleep on the old, black leather couch in his room. Eventually, he got up from tossing and turning, and decided - against his better judgement - to look through the device. He knew it was wrong, knew it was a huge invasion of privacy, but he didn’t particularly care for you. Besides, he was curious, who could blame him?

The red head, currently sitting upside down on Yoongi’s couch, just huffed in response. Yoongi just rolled his eyes and spun around in the old, squeaky rolling chair. He had your phone open on his desk. It was early in the morning now, he figured you and the rest of the boys, aside from Hoseok, were probably still asleep. Hoseok tended to be an extremely early riser, yet still went to bed late at night. Yoongi never understood how he had so much energy with so little sleep.

Yoongi had already looked through your apps and photos. You didn’t have any social media that he could tell. Your apps were incredibly boring, just a few games and a notepad app that he found some of your notes on. Mostly things like grocery lists and dreams that you had. Nothing too interesting. Your photos weren’t very exciting either, mostly pictures of trees and fruit. You had some photos of your mom and dad and a couple of animals he assumed were yours. You seemed to live a pretty boring life, based on what was on your phone. The cynical side of him wanted to tell himself this meant you were a boring person, but he knew that was an unfair assumption.

The last thing Yoongi decided to snoop through, were your text messages. While he hadn’t found much there, aside from conversations with your mom, dad, and a group chat with someone named “Mina” and “Woo”, he did notice how everyone seemed to refer to you as ‘Pearl’. Aside from when your mother called you by your name yesterday, you were almost always referred to as Pearl. This piqued Yoongi’s interest, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe this was evidence as to why the others shouldn’t trust you? It’s a simple nickname, but Yoongi was suspicious of you from the beginning. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew he was looking for reasons to hate you, to make the others hate you. 

Yoongi nearly jumped straight out of his skin when the door to his room was swung open with such ferocity it slammed into the wall. Hoseok jumped straight up from the couch and Yoongi nearly fell out of his chair at the noise. “Jesus kid!” Yoongi yelled as he righted himself.

Jungkook had the graciousness to look ashamed as he entered the elder’s room. “Sorry hyung, I- I didn’t mean to,” he murmured without meeting the eyes of his older friends. 

Hoseok sighed and relaxed a bit before pushing a hand through his bright locks and announcing he was going to ‘find something better to do’. Jungkook nodded at him as he left and took Hoseok’s previous spot on the couch. Yoongi surveyed Jungkook as he sat down. He looked tired, like really tired. He could see the small bags forming under the youngest’s eyes, a purple tint to his nearly perfect skin. Yoongi also noticed how skinny the kid was looking these days. He narrowed his eyes at the boy, “You doing ok, kid?”

Jungkook lowered his head into his hands and rested them on his knees, shaking his head back and forth slightly, “No hyung. I- I miss them,” Yoongi could hear the tears that were threatening to fall. He always did have a soft spot for Jungkook. He rose from his seat and sat down gingerly next to Kook on the couch, making the leather creaked beneath him, and slung his arm around the dark haired boy.

“I know, I miss them too. We all do,” he bagan, running a soothing hand up and down Jungkook’s upper arm, “we will get them back, Jungkook. I promise.” Jungkook lifted his head and looked at his hyung, eyes glazed over. He believed him, he really did, he just missed his best friends. 

Jungkook nodded his head as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Yoongi thumbed at the younger’s lip sweetly, prompting him to release it. He knew Jungkook’s stress, he understood it. He missed the twins too, and he was working his hardest to get them back. Soon. He could feel it. 

Last night had gone about as well as you thought it would. After Jungkook left you alone, Jin never returned to his room. You took the painkillers they offered you, but you thought for sure someone would be back to check on you, and you didn’t feel comfortable enough to wander around the place. You also felt a little bad for taking Jin’s bed when he had been so gracious to you. So after a while of waiting - and mentally hoping - for someone to walk in, you tried your hardest to fall asleep, to no avail. You tossed and turned in Jin’s small bed for what felt like hours, but you didn’t really know how long it had been. There was no clock in the room, you didn’t have your phone, and there were no windows. You guessed you finally fell asleep sometime in the early morning and had a very short, fitful rest before Jin was coming in to wake you.

“YN?” You heard Seokjin’s soft voice from the doorway. You blearily blinked away sleep as you tried to fully regain consciousness. As you rolled over in bed to face the door, you saw Jin standing there with a plate of something that smelled absolutely delicious. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but your stomach was beginning to rumble at the sight of food. You remembered the last time you ate anything was yesterday morning at breakfast.

Jin walked a little further into the room and sat down at the edge of the bed. He wanted to laugh at how entranced you were by the food in his hands, and at the erratic way your hair was sticking up. “Hungry?” He asked, arm outstretched towards you with the plate. You let out a small yawn and reached your arms above your head with a small pout. The large t-shirt you were wearing - Jin’s t-shirt - rode up slightly as you stretched and Jin thought you had to be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. As you finished your much needed stretch, you nodded your head with one eye open, taking the plate. 

“Thank you, I’m so hungry,” you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. Jin’s plump lips upturned into a bright smile as you started to eat a piece of toast from the plate. “You’re able to cook here?”

“There’s a small kitchen,” Jin nodded as he spoke, “it looks like it was an old staff lounge or something? We aren’t entirely sure what this building used to be, but it seemed like some people used to live here. There were beds, couches, even an old television when we got here.”

Now, feeling a little more awake, you nodded along with Jin, “Where do you get the food?” 

Seokjin didn’t even miss a beat before answering, happy you were coming out of your shell a bit, “I go to the market at least once a week,” he smiled, “I take Jungkook with me sometimes…” he started to trail off a bit, looking away from your eyes, almost like he was embarrassed. “That’s actually how we found you.”

You stopped chewing, mid-bite of scrambled egg, “Found me?” You mumbled, mouth full. 

Jin nodded, looking bashful, “Jimin told us he overheard people at the lab talking about a girl, a natural born living in this town. We honestly didn’t think we would find you here,” Seokijn rubbed the back of his neck as he continued, still avoiding your gaze, “We came out here and found this warehouse, it ended up being perfect for us to stay in,” as he continued his eyes finally met yours, he mentally noted how cute you looked, cheeks puffed out with food staring at him, “we needed food, so me and Jungkook went to the market. When I saw you, I knew.”

Your stomach was doing flips at Seokjin’s admission, and you weren’t entirely sure why. They were harmless words, maybe even a little reassuring. They weren’t stalking you, they happened to stumble upon you. So you weren’t sure why you were suddenly feeling so shy. His words almost sounded like a love confession you would hear in a blockbuster movie about soulmates. You could feel your cheeks heat slightly as you finally swallowed the eggs. “What do you mean, you knew? I don’t remember seeing you, or talking to you,” you prodded for some more information.

For a moment, Jin just stared into your eyes, and you thought he wasn’t going to answer you. Then, his plush lips parted as he quietly murmured, “Well, YN, you’re breathtakingly beautiful. I hope you know that,” he never broke eye contact as he uttered his next words, “and now that I’ve gotten to know you more, I can say you have a beautiful soul, too.” You were reeling. Were you the female lead of this made for TV movie your head conjured up?

You stared back at Seokjin with wide, glazed eyes, lips slightly parted in shock. No one has ever said anything like that to you, aside from Mina telling you how beautiful you were and how jealous she was of your skin. Jin was gazing at you as if you were the only person in the world, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel incredible. You were high on his attention, you loved the way your stomach was erupting with butterflies. 

You were still seated on his bed, legs crossed and hands sitting in your lap, food forgotten next to you. Seokjin was still staring intently into your eyes, with an intensity you’ve never felt before. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand and went to lightly brush his knuckles against your cheek bone. The action made you flush, eyes closing at the soft feeling of his hand. Just as you were leaning into his touch, a soft smile on his lips, the door to his room opened, causing both of you to jump backwards, eyes shooting towards the person intruding on such an intimate moment. 

“Jin,” Namjoon looked slightly embarrassed, cheeks pink realizing what he walked into, “we need you in Yoongi’s room.” He bowed his head once at you both before turning on his heels and walking away. 

Seokjin cleared his throat and you found it endearing how his neck and ears were turning a beet red. “S-sorry,” he sputtered out, “I - I’ll be back in a little bit?” He sounded unsure as he scrubbed a hand down his face. You gave him a small smile and nodded, a little sad at the loss of companionship you were just starting to get used to. You couldn’t quite place the emotion you were feeling, but you knew it was nothing like the platonic friendship you felt for Woo or Mina. Jin stood up from his bed, making his way towards, before giving you some parting words, “I’ll have Jungkook come show you where the showers are.” 

After your encounter with Jin this morning, you were reeling from the onslaught of emotions you were feeling. You weren’t given much time to think too much about it though, because once you finished your breakfast, Jungkook came to give you a short, and rather quiet, tour of the building. 

Like Seokjim promised, Jungkook showed you where the one bathroom was located, which looked more like a gym locker room than a bathroom. There were shower stalls, benches, and a couple of toilets and sinks along with a wall of lockers. It looked to be a changing room for employees of the mill. Jungkook had brought with him your black linen pants, washed by Jin according to him, and another large t-shirt. He didn’t want to admit it was his this time, and blushed fiercely as he handed them over to you, along with a clean towel.

Jungkook kindly showed you how to work the showers, helping you turn one on because of your hands. He also sweetly helped unwrap your hands and feet so you could properly shower and clean the cuts and scrapes. After he was done, he turned away, telling you he would wait on the benches for you to finish. As he was retreating, you reached out your hand to grab his forearm, “Wait - I- I can’t really lift my arms up,” you mumbled, warily looking up into his wide deer-in-headlights eyes, “can- can you help me?” You’ve never been shy about your body or nudity, but something about Jungkook seeing you nearly naked, made you feel like a shy teenager again. 

You thought Jungkook was about to spontaneously combust the way he was staring at you. His shoulders were squared and nearly meeting his ears, lips pursed into a tight line, and eyes the size of dinner plates. You almost laughed at his expression, but then remembered how awkward this situation was for the both of you.

“I- I - ye- yes,” Jungkook was a stuttering mess, but wanted to offer you his help regardless. He felt like he was on fire with the way his cheeks and neck were heating. Slowly, you retracted your hand from his forearm when you felt like he wasn’t about to bolt out of the room. Jungkook carefully reached for the hem and your shirt and you turned around so your back was facing him to make this all less embarrassing. The boy audibly gulped as he slowly pulled your shirt upwards removing it from your head first, pushing it towards your front. He stepped closer to you so there was barely an inch of space between your now bare back and his front. Reaching his arms around you, he gripped the shirt and slid it down your arms, removing it from you completely. His fingers ever so slightly brushed the skin on your arms and made a shiver run up your spine. Jungkook didn’t miss the way you let out a strangled breath, almost inaudible.

 He needed to cool off, quickly. 

You quietly thanked him, quickly covering your breasts with your arms, as he turned away still holding Jin’s shirt and made his way out of the bathroom without another word. 

After your much needed shower you struggled to dress yourself, but you would rather cut off your own arm than go through the embarrassment of finding Jungkook to help you again. Once you were finally decent, you found Jungkook sitting on the benches outside of the shower room, just like he said he would be. He has visibly calmed down, now wearing a calm expression. When he noticed you walk into the room, he gave you a small smile. “Feel better?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, happy to feel clean again.

Next, Jungkook showed you the small kitchen that Jin spoke of earlier. It was more like a kitchenette, almost like an employee break room. It had a tiny refrigerator, cabinets that were filled with dry goods, a sink, and one electric burner. The building was so old, you were shocked to see the kitchen in such great condition. At the shocked look on your face, Jungkook told you that Jin really loved to cook and worked really hard to clean it up and keep it that way. Your face flushed at the reminder of the older man who was making your heart feel things just this morning. The thought of him caring so much about his kitchen, moving about in here cooking the delicious food you ate for breakfast, made your stomach twist in a pleasant way. 

The last place Jungkook showed you was a mostly empty room on the second floor of the building. He told you that they didn’t use the second story much, considering the state of disrepair of the place, they didn’t want to risk getting hurt up here. But this room, Jungkook told you, was his favorite place to hang out. It was a rectangular concrete room that had a large expanse of windows on the far  wall. Some of the windows were broken, allowing the breeze from outside to enter. In front of the windows sat a small tan sofa that looked like it had seen better days. Jungkook led you over to the windows, and you quickly realized why he liked this room so much. 

You could see the entire quarry from up here. It was beautiful. At the bottom of the quarry was water that took on an incredible aquamarine color, turning almost green in the sunlight. The water was completely still, no disruptions on the surface, making it look serene. Along the bank of water, there were lush, green bushes and trees swaying slightly in the wind. On the other side of the quarry, you could see a small patch of yellow and purple flowering plants. Along the steep sides of the cliffs, you could see the smooth surface of exposed marble. Over the years, the marble has become weathered and looked smooth to the touch. The late morning sun, high in the sky, was reflecting off of the stone in a way that made it sparkle. It was an incredible sight, and you were surprised you’d never seen it like this before, having been out here in the past. 

As you stood there, taking in the breathtaking scenery, Jungkook was taking in you. You had a look of mirth in your eyes, and he mentally patted himself on the back for bringing you up here. He took in your side profile, admiring your sharp features that looked as if they were carved from the very marble you were currently staring at. He loved the way your soft lips were forming a small pout, eyes focused on the sight in front of you. He didn’t realize he was grinning at you, until you turned around with a look of shock on your face.

A grin spread across your face as you saw Jungkook’s smile for the first time. It reminded you of a bunny, large front teeth on display for you to admire. You stood there for a moment, smiling at each other before you both started giggling. “Thank you for showing me this, Jungkook,” you crooned once the laughter had subsided. He just smiled at you in return before looking back out towards the quarry. You stayed in a comfortable silence after that, before Jungkook deemed it time to head back downstairs. 

Downstairs, Jungkook led you to a room that was right in the middle of the long hallway that contained all the other rooms. “This is Yoongi-hyung’s room,” he cautioned, hand on the door, “don’t worry, Joon-hyung told him to be nice,” he rushed out, seeing the fearful look on your pretty features. 

You were still uncertain, but nodded at Jungkook anyways, prompting him to open the door. Jungkook waited patiently for you to enter the room on your own with no pressure from him. You peeked around the corner to find the occupants of the room all staring right at you. You purse your lips into a tight line and avert your gaze to your newfound safe harbor, Seokjin, who was sitting on a black leather couch. His eyes softened at your uncomfortable look before scooting over to make room for you on the couch, patting the seat next to him, inviting you over. You hesitantly walked over and plopped down on the soft cushion.

Jin rubbed a large hand on your shoulder briefly to calm you down before placing both hands in his lap. As you felt yourself relax a bit, you took in your surroundings. Jungkook was still standing near the door, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He looked oddly stoic, shedding the shy persona he usually wore. The room was fairly large, or at least, larger than the rest of the rooms you’ve been in. Against the right wall was the black leather couch you and Jin were currently sat on, and to your right against the far wall were two arm chairs, one of which was occupied by Namjoon. Sat in a desk chair in front of what looked like an old corporate desk, was Yoongi, with multiple laptops and devices sprawled out in front of him. Leaning against the wall behind Yoongi was another man, one you didn’t recognize, but you assumed was Hoseok. He was staring intently at you. His expression was unreadable, not cold, but not welcoming either. He looked intense with bright red hair, a sharp jawline that looked like it could cut diamonds, dressed in all black. He was a little intimidating and not at all like the golden retriever type boy Namjoon had described to you last night.

As you took in the men around the room, you hadn’t noticed Yoongi and Namjoon discussing a possible plan to break the twins out of Big Hit. “Jimin said there might be a window of time where no one is around,” Yoongi scoffed, “but you remember what happened last time he said that.”

Namjoon nodded his head. Now you were listening intently to their conversation, as were the other men in the room. “We need to trust Jimin, Yoongs. He’s the one inside there, he sees what’s going on, we don’t,” Namjoon sighed, running his hands over his knees, apparently a self-soothing mechanism, “if you think you can get in and knock out the cameras, we might as well give it a shot. We will make sure we’re better prepared this time.” Namjoon seemed defeated. You weren’t sure what happened ‘last time’, but it didn’t sound good.

“It doesn’t matter how prepared we are, he was wrong about the window last time. By two hours. If he’s wrong again we could get caught, or killed,” Yoongi snapped, anger apparent in his eyes, “I’m not willing to risk you guys again.”

“What about her?” This time, it was the redhead who spoke. You hadn’t noticed his eyes on you throughout the entire conversation, assessing you.

“No!” Both Jin and Jungkook barked at the same time, making you jump in your seat. Jin set a soothing hand on your shoulder as you looked at him, and then at Hoseok with wide eyes. Jin shook his head aggressively before looking at Yoongi and Hoseok, “No way. She’s never been there, she would have no idea what to do. You’re not willing to risk one of us, but willing to risk her?” He snarled, you haven’t seen him angry before, and you were positive you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger. 

Over by the door, Jungkook had uncrossed his arms and was walking towards Yoongi’s desk. “You can’t send her in there, hyung,” he started, placing both hands palm down on the desk, “please.”

Yoongi looked up at the maknae with soft eyes before pursing his lips and sighing through his nose. Behind him, Hoseok raised his hands in surrender, “It was just a suggestion,” he sighed out passively, “we’ve all lived there at some point or another, they would recognize us immediately, just like last time.”

“They know her too. Hyunwoo has been scouting her for months, according to Jimin. We can’t let her go in there.” It was Namjoon who was being the voice of reason this time, causing both Jin and Jungkook to let out a collective sigh of relief. The five men continued to argue while you got lost in your thoughts. Hoseok wanted you to navigate Big Hit? Alone? You mulled it over in your head for a minute, remembering Yoongi’s words. If he was able to hack the cameras, they wouldn’t be able to see you, right? You felt so grateful towards Jin and Namjoon, and even Jungkook, for helping you, you wanted to contribute in some way. You wanted to help them, ease their pain at the loss of their friends.

With this thought in mind, you spoke up, “I could do it…” you trailed off, voice quiet. All five of the men’s heads snapped towards you, most with looks of disbelief on their faces. Even Hoseok hadn’t expected you to agree, he was testing you, to see how you would react. Yoongi looked at you curiously, waiting for your next words. He couldn’t deny the clench in his heart at Seokjin’s words. No, he wasn’t willing to risk you, but if you were offering... “I mean.. I want to help,” you hesitated, looking between Jin and Jungkook who were now looking angrily at you. You shrunk in on yourself a bit, awaiting their response. 

“Then it’s settled,” Yoongi remarked. He was trying hard to contain the fear he felt at allowing you to enter Big Hit alone. He knew it was dangerous, and he really wanted to not care about your well-being, but try as he might, he was terrified of allowing you to do this. He assumed he hid it well though, because everyone bar Hoseok was looking at him with incredulousness. 

“No way,” Seokjin spoke first, his tone leaving nothing up for discussion, “this conversation is over.” Jin stood up abruptly, looking directly at Namjoon, “You aren’t ok with this, are you?” The look in his eye was intense, and Namjoon could feel it. He could feel the emotions Jin felt towards you, that he was going to do whatever it took to protect you. Namjoon would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the same way.

Namjoon let out a short sigh and closed his eyes before setting his gaze on Yoongi, “We can figure this out without involving YN.” 

“You heard her,” Yoongi growled, “she’s willing to risk her life. Who am I to tell her no?”

From there, the argument got even more heated, Jungkook even getting involved at one point. You were starting to feel uncomfortably hot in this cramped space. You understood both sides. You wanted to help, but you also knew that whatever you were volunteering yourself to do was dangerous. You needed air.

Suddenly, you stood up from the sofa announcing to the others that you ‘needed space’ and bolted out the door. Jungkook turned to run after you, but Hoseok, who was now standing next to the youngest, put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Let me go Hobi-hyung, I need to make sure YN is ok,” Jungkook rushed out, turning to the elder.

“Let her go, Kookie. This is probably a lot for her,” Hoseok told the boy, who looked like his heart was breaking at his words, “She’ll be ok, give her time.”

In your haste to remove yourself from the situation, you missed the look of absolute devastation on Jin’s face. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything to repay them. He didn’t want you to feel like you owed them. He couldn’t believe how strongly he felt for you after only one day, longing for your presence next to him, now that it was suddenly gone. He could see that Jungkook - and to some extent, Namjoon - felt similarly. 

Namjoon’s heavy sigh could be heard by everyone in the room, even over the loud chatter between the boys, as he slowly rose from his seat. As he made his way over to the door, he looked over his shoulder at the hacker. “Fix this.” His words held a finality that made Yoongi gulp. The blonde had a stoic outer shell that was hard to crack, but no one in this building could deny Namjoon was the one in charge, the one they wouldn’t defy. Yoongi nodded, biting the inside his cheek to hold back his retorts as Namjoon left the room. 

After you burst out of Yoongi’s room earlier, you ran towards the big metal door that led outside the warehouse. You didn’t really want to go home, you were way too scared of what might be waiting for you there, but you did need some fresh air and some time to process everything that has happened to you since yesterday. 

You made your way down the long winding path that led back to the fork in the path at the edge of the forest. You were thankful Jungkook had found you a pair of slippers earlier and you were no longer barefoot. You passed the broken fence blocking the dirt road down to the quarry and carefully hiked down until you were at the embankment and sat on the edge of the water. It really was beautiful and now that you were up close, you could see how clear the water was. It looked like liquid gemstones, barely rippling in the slight breeze. The marble looked so pretty up close, nearly snow white with swirls and lines of grey. It was calming out here. You took a few deep breaths, inhaling the scent of the water and the trees. 

You have never done well with crowds of people. Not that five men were a crowd by any means, but you weren’t used to being around more than a couple of people at a time. Growing up, you had severe anxiety, especially while at school, and it carried over to adulthood. You also haven’t had many chances to socialize as an adult, outside of Mina and Woo. Being thrown into a situation with five men, two of whom you don’t think even want you around, is a lot. It’s only been twenty four hours and you’re already starting to regret leaving your home. You thought about your mom, and the huge breakfasts and dinners she would make for you and your father. Your father, who you didn’t know if you could even trust anymore. You’ve lived your whole life putting all your trust in your parents, as one should. But now you were questioning everything. Were they aware of your genetic rarity? Did they know about Big Hit all along? You had so many unanswered questions that you would probably never have answers to unless you went home.

Your mind wandered to Mina and Woo. How you weren’t sure if you would ever get to see them again. You were worried about them, worried that they would look for you and find themselves in some kind of trouble. They were your only friends growing up, and you didn’t even get to properly say goodbye to them. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt something wet and warm drop into your lap. You were wearing the pants that you got dressed in yesterday morning before what could’ve been your last breakfast with your family. At that thought, the dam within you broke and the tears started flowing. 

While staring at your damaged hands, you were reminded of Seokjin, and his caring nature. The tall, broad shouldered man who has shown you nothing but kindness. He was so gentle with you, like no one ever has been before. He made your heart flutter and your mind blank when he spoke to you. You thought back to how angry he had been with his own friends, over you, a girl he just met. He was defending you, and it made you feel like you were tearing a family apart. You didn’t want to bring him, or anyone else for that matter, any pain or harm. But then you thought back to how nice his large hand had felt against the delicate skin of your face this morning, and how his words had made you blush with fondness. You’ve never loved someone outside of your family, never even had a crush before. You weren’t sure how to define what you felt for Seokjin, but it felt good. 

Then you thought about Namjoon, the well spoken and intelligent man who was the reason you were brought in with welcoming arms. From what you’ve gathered, he was the one who pushed to find you, to make sure they did something to stop Big Hit from getting to you. You were thankful for him, and you didn’t want to put him in a position where he had to choose you or his brothers. He cared for them deeply, you could see that clearly. 

Jungkook was mysterious to you. He seemed so shy and timid, yet he was so angry with Yoongi earlier in defense of you. He had shown you one of the most beautiful places you’ve ever witnessed before, and given you one of the most precious smiles you’ve ever seen. You wanted to learn more about him, get to know him, be his friend. You felt drawn to the boy and wanted to protect him. It was odd, you’ve never felt an instinct to take care of someone else before, aside from maybe your cat. You wondered if that was how Seokjin felt towards the rest of them, the thought causing your heart to clench, emphatic towards him.  

The red haired man, Hoseok, was the one you knew the least about. It felt like he didn’t really like you, but he was so hard to read. You remembered what Namjoon said about him being excitable and friendly, but you had yet to experience it yourself. As much as you felt unwelcomed by him and Yoongi, you still felt inclined to get to know him better, a pull to him, much like the others. You couldn’t explain these feelings, and they were confusing you.

The last man of the group, the blonde. Yoongi. He definitely didn’t want you here, and definitely made you feel unwelcome. But could you blame him? You weren’t mad at him. No. You understood completely how he felt. You were a stranger, disposable, and you weren’t his friend. He had no reason to care about you. None of them did. You mentally berated yourself for allowing your mind to conjure up the idea that they owe you anything, that you deserved their care and affection. 

As you sat and cried silently to yourself, you let the dark thoughts take over your mind. Were you some kind of charity case to Namjoon? Like he felt the need to save someone who was like him and that’s all you meant to them? Maybe they felt sorry for you, and that’s why they were treating you so kindly. Seokjin acted caring towards everyone, why were you anything special? You were acting crazy, it’s only been a day with these men and you’re already feeling such a strong pull to them. You need to get a hold of yourself. You continued to sit there, on the edge of the water, shoulders hunched as you cried silently. As the day went on, and the sun started to set beyond the hills, your mind was plagued with the thoughts that this was all a horrible, horrible idea. 

To be continued….

A/N: if you made it this far, first of all, THANK YOU! If you want to be added to the taglist, make sure you’re following me and send me an ask. if you enjoy the series consider reblogging so it can reach more readers. i’m feeling a little down about writing right now, so i’m trying to make sure to update next sunday. we will be meeting the twins in the next couple chapters, depending on how long they get, and you will be getting some steamy scenes between YN and (a) boy shortly. much love 

xx Des

taglist:  @minifruity​  @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz​ @chim-possible​ 

copyright 2020 aliendes

[ellewords]

daichi is the designated driver at parties (after everyone becomes legal, of course. if he catches anyone underage drinking, he purposefully lectures the hell out of them because he knows forcing them to sit through a talk where he is overly serious and overbearing and the like is more likely to work than yelling at them and getting on their case about it). he’s been doing it ever since the third years became of legal age to drink because asahi is a bit of a light weight despite his size, and suga, while not nearly as bad as asahi, tends to get out of hand when he has a few too many drinks. on days when he does feel like drinking, he caps it off at two, regardless of the type of alcohol, and he always makes sure that he (and anyone else drinking) has a ton of water and food in between. he’s not exactly motherly about it because he knows everyone is more than capable of taking care of themselves, but he does sometimes accidentally slip into his signature look/tone combo if someone doesn’t finish the water and/or snacks he gave them in between every two or three drinks.

there’s only been one time that daichi got legitimately wasted, and he vows to never do it again. if anyone asks, it’s because he didn’t like the feeling of waking up hungover the next morning, but suga accidentally lets it slip one night after he was a few drinks in that it’s really because daichi becomes a super emotional drunk. he cries at even the slightest inconvenience, he opens up about his feelings an embarrassing amount, and he becomes super affectionate. asahi even has footage of daichi crying all over suga about how much he loved the first years after going to the last game of their third year to cheer them on. (asahi doesn’t address the fact that his loud sniffling is also heard from behind the camera or that suga is literally cooing at daichi as he pets his messy hair down.)

daichi gives everyone the deadliest glare of his life when he walks in on the team watching the video play for the fourth time and laughing their asses off, and suddenly, it’s as if the video never existed in the first place. though asahi never deletes the video, everyone silently agrees that it will never be talked about again. though, the team does try to secretly get daichi drunk a few times afterwards. it doesn’t work. unfortunately.

i think this is the shortest hc i’ve ever sent in to you, wow. you proud of me, elle? 🥰 lol, jk, hope you’re having a good day, and good luck with studying and such! -🌙

—  from elle ! haha it might be the shortest, but it was still packed with such amazing *chef’s kiss* hcs >_< pls designated driver-emotional drunk!daichi ??? pls that’s literally me ngl lowkey feels like i was reading about myself hahaha but anyways as usual, a couple short lil scenarios with the team under the cut because the karasuno dynamics live in my head rent free ;-; tysm for this 🌙anon !! <3 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

asahi was the lookout, surely with all that height, he��d be able to see daichi coming from a mile away. he didn’t need to see the video again, having lived through the actual experience himself. besides, that video lived on his phone anyways. he could just watch it whenever he wanted to.

but suga didn’t have that kind of an advantage, phone in his hands as all the other members crowded around him, trying their hardest to keep their mouths shut. even kiyoko was trying to hide her snickers with the back of her hand. 

everyone knew that they were already on pretty thin ice with daichi, him having caught them three times just in the past week. but they just couldn’t resist, even as daichi shook his head and made them do extra drills as a response.

“and the first years,” daichi bawled, words barely understandable through all the tears that came from his eyes, “they have so much potential, so much ahead of them...it just makes me so proud, you know?”

daichi gently hits the area over his heart to emphasise his point, leaning his head on suga’s shoulder. his face was flushed red, a thin layer of cold sweat on his forehead. eyes puffy and nose very clearly runny, asahi hands him a tissue from behind the camera.

“awe,” suga cooed, brushing daichi’s hair back. it’s clear that he’s holding in his laughter, given that he was biting his lip each time daichi sniffled, “you gonna miss them?”

daichi nodded, using the tissue asahi had given him a few moments ago. “i just love them so much, i hope that we were at least good mentors to them. that they remember us when we go.”

the camera shakes ever so slightly as asahi could no longer hold back his own tears. if they listened close enough, they could hear a quiet, “yeah.”

“...and the second years,” daichi continued, unable to stop himself, “i just hope they know that they could still reach out to us...if they ever need anything. i know that they’ll do a good job but it would be nice if they updated us every now and—”

“and just what exactly are you watching?”

they hear a voice in front of them, chills creeping up their spines, blood running cold. everyone’s faces paled as daichi stood, hands crossed in front of his chest, gazing in front of them with the deathliest glare they had ever seen from him.

no other words needed to be spoken. asahi had his head hung low, already deleting the video as soon as suga tossed the phone to him. just like that an agreement was made, no one speaks of the video ever again.

__

the only time it was ever brought up was the little party they had in honor of the third years graduating. it was held at the gym, decorations kept simple — just a banner that yachi had made and a couple of balloons floating about.

the night was already winding down, everybody had eaten, music was kept at a low volume for ease of conversation. soon enough, it would be time for everyone to say goodbye.

“everyone!” nishinoya called out, loud as ever as he gestured towards ennoshita who made his way to the center of the room, “i believe our new captain wants to say something.”

 everyone gathered around him, cups of soda in hand as they anticipated his words. daichi had passed the baton onto him, the role of leader, captain. he wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t regret it.

“tonight we say goodbye to our third years...” ennoshita started, a sad smile making its way to his face.

“hey!” suga called out, a laugh threatening to break away from his lips, “don’t make us sound like we’re dying! we’re only graduating.”

“right, sorry.” a flustered flush colored his face. still, he continued his little speech, “you four mean a lot to us. taught us many things in and out of the court.”

the team nodded along, agreeing with his words.

“ i know that you think we’ll do a good job, but i just want you to know that we will definitely be reaching out to you whenever we need anything. we’ll definitely be updating you every now and then too.”

asahi’s eyes narrowed, why were these words just a little too familiar? oh no, these were daichi’s words from that video...

everyone else had caught on pretty quickly, smiles threatening to form on their lips as the video was still unable to leave their heads for the past few weeks. tsukishima was the first to add on to ennoshita’s speech, “yeah, and don’t worry, we know how much potential you think we have.”

tanaka smirked, a certain amount of pride lacing his voice, “i'm sure these first years definitely know how much they have ahead of them. but we’ll be good mentors like you were.”

“we’ll miss you too!” 

“we definitely won’t forget you!”

suga and asahi looked towards daichi, just a little bit nervous. by that point, they had assumed that everyone had forgotten about it and moved on. obviously that was not the case, since the entire team had the biggest grins on their faces. suga and asahi expected a glare, or at least an uncomfortable look.

but he’s smiling, fondly, gaze warm and soft. daichi could tell they were being sincere, despite the teasing tone in their voices. 

so he lets it slide this time.

and also because daichi just knew :  he was definitely going to miss this. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what are the hq characters like at a party?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot​

join my hq taglist here. <3

[knight-ingale]

Chapter 5, Near-Death-Experience

Heyyy y’all! Sorry, I wanted to post earlier today (and with an update/warning so y’all could see it was coming) but a lot of... stuff(?) has happened this weekend. Hope you all enjoy regardless! ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---~---~---~---~---~---~--- *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So,” you ask, leaning into the middle console, “What happened?” Bella purses her lips for a moment. 

“Um… a lot?” She starts, eyes still locked on the road, “He said ‘hi’ to me at the beginning of class, I guess, so that was new.” You nod, “He also called me Bella instead of Isabella, but no one else has done that? Like… he even corrected Mr. Banner when he called me Isabella.” You shrug, holding your head in your hand as you lean back against your door.

“Maybe since we’ve been here for a bit, he heard from everyone else you like being called Bella?” Bella nods, though her expression was disbelieving.

“Maybe,” she concedes, “But I don’t think so?” You shrug, making a movement with your other hand to queue her onwards. “He asked me a lot of questions, I guess. He tried to make small-talk about the snow at first, but I don’t like snow. He figured it was difficult for me to live here in Forks. Said I was ‘hard to read’ for some reason.” You shrug again, though she couldn’t see it. 

“Well, he doesn’t really know you, right? Just because Mom and I can read you doesn’t mean someone new can, I suppose.” She sighs, 

“That makes sense, I guess. But… there’s something else.” You lean away from your door to sit up straight. 

“Well?” you prompt after a short silence, “What is it?” Bella’s fingers tap against the wheel anxiously. 

“Well… have you noticed his eyes? The color change, I mean.” You freeze. Edward’s eyes had changed too? You noticed Jasper’s since he sat next to you, but you hadn’t noticed his brother’s change from across the room during lunch. Bella glances at you, “What? What’s wrong?” You shuffle in your seat, leaning back against the door with your arm.

“Well… I just.. I noticed the same thing with his brother, Jasper. He sits next to me in Psych. His eyes used to be really dark. Like, really dark. Now they kind of match his hair, like a golden color. I didn’t say anything about it, but it’s kinda weird.” Bella is obviously surprised by your comment. 

You drive the short rest of the drive home in contemplative silence.

You’re able to get most of your homework done before dinner, and Bella helps you with the Algebra after dinner. Dinner, speaking of, was the usual silence you were now used to. You doodled for a while before you decided to go to bed. 

The next day, you woke up to a surprise. The overcast, green-tinted light you were used to waking up to had cleared into bright, filtered light. You got dressed before you looked out the window and walked back to your closet to get your boots. On the other side of the glass, there was a snowy and frozen wonderland. Fern-like designs of frost hugged the edges of the glass on your window, every needle was coated in crystalline ice. The driveway had become an ice-trail of possible future concussions and a trip to the ER.

You came downstairs to see Bella making a bowl of cereal. You gasped in horror when you saw her drink orange juice straight from the carton while making your own cereal when she finished her own bowl. Bella sat in her chair practically vibrating with nervous energy as she waited for you to be done with your breakfast. 

“What’s with you?” You ask, shoveling another spoonful of Cheerios into your mouth while Bella gathers her thoughts. 

“I guess I’m just, kind of excited?” You nearly choked on your cereal. Y/n Swan, the beloved sister, died by shocking news and breakfast. A little ball of dread reappeared in the pit of your stomach. 

“Excuse me,” you ask, still coughing a little bit, “But why on Earth?” You already knew the answer as soon as she nearly killed you with your own surprise and food, but you asked anyway. 

“I… Agh, I know it’s stupid!” Your sister admits sheepishly, “But… I guess to see him.” You scoffed, this time not nearly dying.

“Yup, sounds very, very stupid. You shouldn’t trust someone who lies about their eyes,” You note, raising your eyebrows at Bella. She nods her head, but you can tell her attitude hasn’t changed much. You sigh and finish off your milk before standing to rinse your bowl out in the sink. You and Bella grab your bags and prepare to leave, fearing the worst for the journey ahead. 

You guided Bella to the very front of the truck, holding onto each other as supports to make the short way to the truck. It was only when you and your sister parted to go to your respective sides of the vehicle when Bella nearly toppled. Luckily, she caught the mirror of the door on the way down to steady herself. You laughed, relieved when you both made it into the cab without injury. Bella wasn’t nearly as amused. 

Bella drove carefully through the icy streets without difficulty, but still slowly, which you were glad for. The last thing you needed was for your father to show up at the site of a crash after carving a path of destruction through town. Despite this, the little lump of dread on your stomach was growing bigger and heavier.

When you made it to school, you got out of the warm cab, you noticed Bella stop at the back of the truck. You make your way to her side curiously. Did she find something on the ground? Standing beside her, you see what she’s looking at. Thin, silver snow chains had been fixed to your tires. You realized, like Bella seemingly had, that Charlie had gotten up early and put them on the truck for the both of you. This small act stunned you. Your mother had never done anything like this to take care of you, in fact, Bella had always been the one to take safety measures and care for you. Bella leans up, tears welling up in her eyes. You lay a hand on her shoulder and try to smile through the mini-wave of emotions.

A loud noise abruptly tears through the quiet air of the parking lot. You turn your head to see behind you a large, dark blue van skidding on the icy blacktop, and it’s headed right towards you and Bella.

You knew you wouldn’t have any time to run, you wouldn’t even have time to push Bella out of the way.

 Nothing was in slow motion, but you were fast enough to manage one maybe final act. 

You turned to Bella, her brown eyes wide and looking off away from the van at the crowd, and wrapped your arms behind her. One arm reached up and held the top of her head, the other crossed from one shoulder to hold the other. You were already on the outside, Bella was between you and the corner of the truck. You knew you were going to die. The chances of being pinned between the truck and a van probably weren’t very high, but maybe you’d be enough of a barrier to at least get your sister out alive? You hoped so.

Right before you expected to be smashed by the oncoming Frisbee-ing vehicle, you were pushed. You felt your wrist, the one behind Bella’s head, hit the concrete with sharp pain. Something cold and hard was pinning your back down. You hadn’t even blinked when you realized you were on the ground next to a tan car Bella had parked next to. You barely had time to look up and see two white hands thrust forward to stop the van from hitting you, pushing into an already deep dent in the side of the body. Then, like a blur, one hand reached to hold under the van and the other pulling you away, your legs swinging and hitting the tire of the car beside you.

And then, it was over. For a moment, it was silent after the van settled and the glass popped. After that short silence, pandemonium.  Many voices started yelling at once, the most you could understand was several people yelling your names. That was when you realized there was someone else there. You looked back behind you to see none other than the bagel-hater himself, Edward Cullen, holding you against his side, you sandwiched between both him and yourself clutching Bella to you.

“Bella?” He repeats, “Are you alright?” Bella groans and tries to escape both of your grasps, but you held onto her, as did Edward.

“I’m fine,” she groans. She looks up to you and realizes who you were being held against and immediately struggles to sit up against you. You help her sit up gently with Edward’s white hand guiding her back.

“Be careful,” he warns her, “I think you hit your head.” Bella reaches a hand up to her head, placing her hands against a spot above her left ear. 

“Ow.” Bella mumbles, sounding surprised. You sat up as fully as you could and gently looked about Bella’s face, your hands holding her jaw as you searched for any more irritated spots of impact or scrapes. Thankfully, she seemed fine.

“That’s what I thought,” Edward hums, almost sounding amused? If you weren’t in the head space of just trying to make sure you and your sister were alright, you probably would have at least turned to glare at Edward, maybe even yell. Bella mumbles, still wincing as she held onto the side of her head, 

“How in the…?” She shakes her head and her voice trails off before looking back up, “How did you get over here so fast?” Edward makes an expression of what you knew to be feigned-confusion,

“I was right next to you, Bella,” he says, his voice no longer exhibiting a humorous inflection. You steady Bella as she begins to push away to sit up and Edward unwinds his arms from around your side and Bella’s and scoots as far as he can in the very limited space in between the far too-close vehicles. You turned your back to press against the side of the tan car behind you, one hand on your sister's shoulder as you both looked over to the boy beside you. The way he was looking at you and Bella was bizarrely off-putting. The way he almost looked to be sincerely confused, he truly wore the expression of authentic befuddlement, but not quite. You looked into the golden hues of his eyes and knew that couldn’t be right. His gaze was too hard, too much like he was pleading you to just stay quiet or just go with it. He wasn’t confused. He knew exactly what had happened and what Bella was asking. 

Edward shifts his gaze to you, his expression slightly harder in some way, guarded perhaps? 

You’re snapped out of your speculative train of thought by voices. Now that everything had stopped, you realized there was screaming. Different voices screaming Bella’s name, screaming your name. Funnily enough, you weren’t able to pick out anyone calling for the Cullen boy beside you in the noise.

A crowd rushes up to the vehicles, crying faces and yelling greet you as you look up to them all. 

“Stay put!” Someone instructs loudly, but you can’t see who. 

“Get Tyler out of the van!” Someone else shouted. There is a dizzying amount of movement around the vehicles as you look back to Bella as she tries to stand up. Both your hand and Edwards place themselves on opposite shoulders before she can elevate herself.

“Somebody said to stay put just now Bells,” You remind softly as she lowers back down the few centimetres.

“But it’s cooold,” she whines. Edward snickers behind you, but Bella cuts him off, “You were over there. You were by your car...” her voice trails off once again as she looks up into his eyes. Edward drops his smile and instead presses his lips into a hard and narrows his eyes, frowning ever-so slightly.

“No, I wasn’t.” 

“I saw you,” Bella insists. Over the argument you hear deeper voices, teachers, arriving to the scene. 

“Bella, I was standing with you, I pulled you out of the way.” It seemed he was trying with all his silent might to convince your sister other from the truth. Bella breaks her gaze from Edward’s and looks at you. You could practically see the vicious curiosity burning behind her brown eyes. You turn to look at Edward and realize he had been staring at you. His nearly pleading gaze making contact with your own vision causes a strange panic to stir in your chest.

“You… you couldn’t have been there.” You say, “You weren’t there even when I turned and grabbed Bella…” Edward, obviously displeased with your answer, looks between you and your sister with a guarded panic, 

“Bella, Y/n, please,” he pleads softly. For some reason, his gentle voice aggravates the panic already present in the back of our mind, though you can’t tell why it did.

“Why?” Bella almost glares at the boy across from her. Obviously, you were alone in your sudden feeling of alarm.

“Trust me,” you begs again, his forceful gaze shifting from Bella to you before returning back to your sister.

“Will you promise to explain everything to me later?” Edward lets out a sharp sigh at your sisters continued pressing,

“Fine,” he snaps.

“Fine,” Bella echoes with her own angry tone.

You look between the two teenagers with worry. The far off sirens were finally in the parking lot. You could see flashing red and blue lights reflecting off of the wet asphalt and snow and edges of the vehicles around you. Through the wailing sirens and abrupt feeling of panic, you have a feeling the rest of the day was going to be a disaster. Though, how much worse could it get from here?

Turns out, much worse.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---~---~---~---~---~---~--- *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tags: @twilight-loveer, @rushiruby

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Holding On for Dear Life Pt2

Genre: Fan Fiction (Vikings) Pairing: Hvitserk/OFC Warnings: Medical, Illness, Sexual Content Rating: M Length: Multi Chapter Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: I am surprised at how well this went over, thank you. 

thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr for the header

Catch Up Here

Hvitserk wished he had stayed at Emmer's, avoiding his brothers at all cost.

Ivar found him sooner than he had wanted.

Walking into his apartment, he had expected to find Ubbe had left, another mess in the kitchen or living room, instead it was Ivar waiting for him. Stretched out on the corner sofa, the leather supple and worn, ivar glance over his shoulder when the apartment door opened. A downside to allowing your family to have keys.

“Nice of you to remember that I exist.” Ivar reached for the remote, turning down the television.

“Nice of you to break in.”

“I didn't break in.” Ivar countered with a shrug. “I have a key. Besides, this is my apartment, too.”

“No, it's not.” Hvitserk kicked off his shoes and walked to the open kitchen. Pulling out a jug of orange juice, he found a glass in the sink. “You moved, your choice. It's mine and Ubbe's now.”

“Whatever, my name is on the lease.”

“No it's not. Ubbe and I changed that.” Hvitserk rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Ivar?”

“Ah,” Ivar grabbed for his crutches, taking a moment or two to stand. Slowly thumping across the apartment, his dark hair pulled back from his face show casing his blue eyes. Glinting at his older brother, he smirked. “Well, I have a date next week. She has a friend in town and...”

“No.” Hvitserk ended that idea in it's tracks. He would not be the third wheel, forcing his way in with some poor girl, who didn't want to be there as much as he did. “I refuse. Ask Sigurd or Bjorn. Fuck, ask dad. I am not doing it.”

“You owe me.”

“Yes, I do, but I will not entertain some poor girl, because you want an attempt at fucking some chick.”

“Well, how sweet of you, brother. Boost my confidence, why don't you.” Ivar groaned, sliding onto a chair at the small table in the corner. “Emmer have your balls tied that tight, does she?”

“Nobody has my balls, but me, which is why I am saying no. I am not going. Change your date, fuck them both, whatever works. I'm not doing it.”

The last time Hvitserk did Ivar a favour of this caliber, he had the most miserable night of his life. First the date that Ivar was with would not stop hitting on Hvitserk, increasingly pissing off Ivar. The friend that she had brought for Hvitserk ignored him, when she did speak to him it was only to ask him how much longer of this hell they had left. Then there was the spilled wine, all over Ivar and the waiter. Ivar's date cleverly insisted on helping clean Hvitserk – who had no wine on him, some clean up. More like an excuse to rub his junk.

Nope.

Hvitserk refused to do it again.

“You owe me.” Ivar's glare narrowed at his brother.

“Too bad. I'm not doing it. I – I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because I am seeing someone and it wouldn't be appropriate.” Hvitserk shrugged, using his cover story as casually as possible. Taking a large gulp of his juice, he clicked his tongue to his teeth. “Sorry, man.”

“Cut the bullshit, fucking your best friend doesn't count.” Rolling his eyes, Ivar huffed and tapped his fingers on the table.

“Fuck off, Ivar. Go home.”

“Your excuses are lame.”

“I'm not doing it,” Hvitserk shook his head, standing straight. “Forget it, I will do whatever else you want, but I will not do that. Now, go home. I'm exhausted and I want to sleep.”

Ivar was worse than a damn gnat, buzzing around, getting in the way and never leaving no matter how much you swatted at him. Hvitserk finished his juice, rinsed his glass, and waved to his brother. If he had a key to get in, he could lock up when he left. At the table complaining that his brother was shitty company, Ivar ignored that he was being left alone.

Shutting his bedroom door with a heavier than needed thud, Hvitserk sighed and rubbed his hands against his face. Fishing his phone from his pocket, he checked it to see if there was any new updates from Emmer. Her social media was quiet and no texts. She must have gone back to sleep, like Hvitserk had directed, once he'd left her. Stripping off his jeans and tshirt, he scratched his chest and flopped face first down on his bed.

This is where he was going to stay until he could fully function again.

Closing his eyes, stretched out on his bed, Hvitserk groaned into his pillow when his phone buzzed. Blindly reaching for his phone on the table beside his bed, he lifted his head, rolling onto his back. The screen flashed with a new text.

Emmer.

Informing him that she was obeying his orders, had been sleeping most of the afternoon, not leaving her bed only for more tea and a bathroom break.

Hvitserk smiled, seeing that she was actually listening this time and getting the rest she needed. Telling her that he was highly impressed and would see her later, he placed his phone back and sighed. Content to finally get a good sleep.

Unsure of the time or where he even was, Hvitserk jolted awake in a startling manner. His phone ringing had brought him from a deep sleep. Rubbing his eyes and reaching blindly for the phone, he felt his heart spike seeing Emmer's name on the screen.

“Hello?” He tried not to sound like he'd just woke.

“Are you coming back over?” Emmer didn't seem to notice, or perhaps care, she had woke him.

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. I mean, you don't have to, but I thought we could watch some movies. Hang out.”

“Uh,” Hvitserk looked at the clock, “yeah, sure.”

“Alright, cool. I'll see you when you get here.”

“See you soon, Em.” Hvitserk ended the call, laying in bed rubbing his face. Arm slung across his face, he winced hearing a loud thud in the kitchen. Fucking Ivar.

Clean clothes, his hair pulled back neatly, Hvitserk prepared himself to kick Ivar out a second time. In the kitchen, sucking the tip of his thumb and wincing stood Ubbe. Rolling his eyes, Hvitserk shook his head. There was a reason why he did most of the cooking.

“Sup?” He tipped his chin to his older brother.

“Fucking can dropped.” Ubbe cursed the can of soup sitting on the counter, below the cupboard it fell from.

“Huh, put some ice on it.” Hvitserk shrugged hoisting himself onto the counter. Watching Ubbe try to end the throbbing. “So, what's up?”

“Same shit. Where have you been?”

“Emmer's. She called last night, emergency.”

“How'd it go? She okay?”

Hvitserk shrugged, shaking his head slightly. “Probably a bit sore for another day or two, but she's good otherwise.”

“Are you going back there?”

“Eager to get rid of me?” Hvitserk eyed his brother curiously.

Ubbe chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “No, I was just wondering is all. If you're not going to be home, then I will turn shit off when I go out is all.”

“Hot date?”

“Dinner with Floki and Helga.”

“Ah, right.” Hvitserk stretched his arms over his head, turning his head from side to side to relieve the tension. “I may go back over, see what she's up to. So, if you do end up bringing someone back, don't worry about me.”

Ubbe never did, unfortunately for Hviterk.

More than once, the older Lothbrok had brought home a lady friend. More than once, Hvitserk had been subject to listening through the walls. Their apartment was decent, though the walls still slightly too thin. Shaking the thoughts, Hvitserk grabbed his jacket and keys, wishing Ubbe well.

The drive to Emmer's gave Hvitserk fifteen minutes and forty seconds of alone time. He could take this route by memory with his eyes closed, not that he ever would. He chuckled to himself. Emmer's building wasn't as lavish as Hvitserk's, but it was certainly cozy. Parking in the designated guest spot, next to Emmer's car, he grabbed his things and closed his thoughts for the time being.

Not bothering to let her know he was there,  using his key made coming and going easier. Up four floors, Hvitserk followed the hall from the elevator to the back of the building.

Walking through the door, he dropped his bag on the couch.

“I'm here.” He called hearing the water running in the bathroom.

“In the shower,” Emmer called out the obvious. She had probably showered several times today, allowing the hot water to ease any pain or tension in her body.

Walking to the bathroom door, Hvitserk poked his head in. The hot water steaming the room. “How do you feel now?”

“Better, thanks.”

“Good. So how was your day?”

“Not bad, I slept most of it. I'm still feeling it, but didn't want to be alone. Thanks for coming over, by the way.” The water shut off and the curtain pushed back, Hvitserk adverted his eyes for a moment. Grabbing her towel from the rack, Emmer wrapped it around her body.

“Good. I went home, had an argument with Ivan and went to sleep.”

“Sounds productive.” Emmer giggled.

“If he asks, we're back together.”

“Okay, whatever you say.” Emmer scoffed. “Was it that bad?”

“He wants me to go on a date with some chick I have never met.”

“Right, are you going to go?” Emmer twisted her hair into a bun.

“Nope.”

“Could be fun,” She stood nearly toe to toe with Hvitserk. Only a few inches shy of being eye to eye.

“I hate you sometimes.”

Tapping the tip of his nose, Emmer shrugged, brushing by him. Shivering as the air hit her skin, she moved across the short hall to her bedroom. Turning around, Hvitserk leaned against that door frame instead. He'd seen Emmer naked more than once, but this still felt a little awkward. Staring at the floor, when she dropped her towel, he followed the lines on the wood flooring to keep him occupied.

“So, why don't you want to go on this date? And why did you tell him we were together?” Emmer asked, her voice muffled by the shirt she pulled over her head.

“Because I don't think it's a good idea. I don't know this woman, she doesn't know me. What if we hate each other? Her night and mine gets ruined.”

“What if she's lovey, you end up married and having ten kids?”

“What if she's an axe murderer?”

“What if she's the love of your life?”

“Not possible. She's a friend of someone Ivar is interested in. She's likely shallow, self absorbed, and as smart as a bag of rocks.”

“Judgmental,” Emmer snorted digging through her drawers for clean shorts. Locating a pair of soft sleep shorts, she grabbed them and pulled them on.  “As your fake girlfriend, I think you should go. We can fake break up and you can be fake devastated.”

“You're still on drugs,” Hvitserk teased, lifting his head to meet her gaze. “I will forgive you this once.”

“I'm serious,” Emmer placed her hands on her hips. She would be easier to take seriously if she didn't have a giant wet spot on the front of her shorts.

“You look like you peed your pants.” Hvitserk snickered.

“Fuck off,” slapping him on the shoulder, Emmer shook her head, grabbing for her towel. She'd thought she had dried her pouch off enough not to leave giant wet spots. Pushing the front of her shorts down, she pulled the tan coloured pouch from her shorts and gently rubbed the towel against it. “Look, all I am saying is you should get back on the horse. Go on the date, it could be fun.”

“Fun? How much morphine did they give you?”

Satisfied that her pouch was dry enough, Emmer tucked it back into her shorts. No sense changing, why make another pair wet. Sometimes it was a vicious cycle.

“Have some adventure, Hvits. You never know.”

“I do know,” He leaned in closer, wrinkling his nose at her and making a face. Kissing the top of her head, he sighed. “Look, I don't want to go and I knew if I said we were together, then he would back off. Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah, yeah. I suppose.” Emmer smirked rolling her eyes. “So, Alfred called me.”

“Alfred?” Hvitserk's interest piqued.

Emmer nodded and hummed. “He wants me to talk to some new patient, or something. Anyway, he said hi. He's doing well, with everything that has happened with his step-dad. He wanted to thank your mom and dad for helping and sending such lovely flowers.”

“Well, they did what they could. But, I will tell them. Man, it's crazy to think that a fucking bee sting. Wow.” Hvitserk whistled.

“Life can be short, my dear Hvitserk.” Emmer shrugged, tossing her towel in a hamper, she led the way to the kitchen. “I just can't imagine, one minute he was there and the next he was gone. Did they even know he was that allergic?”

“Apparently not.” Hvitserk followed her closely.

“I didn't know him, I had only met him once or twice.”

“My dad used to be good friends with Alfred's grandfather. He knew his step-dad pretty well, I don't know that he liked him. But he knew him. I remember him from when I was little, we would go over there.”

“Mmm,” Emmer nodded pulling out two glasses and a jug of apple juice. “Ivar and Alfred are pretty tight, aren't  they?”

“Uh, well they were until tenth grade. When Ivar had the hots for some chick, but she went to winter carnival with Alfred.”

“Your brother is so strange,” Emmer took a drink of the juice, licking her lips. “Thanks, by the way. For being the sane, normal man in your family. I would say sane, normal member, but Gyda is way more stable.” she snorted.

“Any time you want her to be your best friend, I will happily move aside.” Hvitserk raised his glass in a cheers style, with a smirk.

“Oh Hvits,” Emmer leaned over, wrapping her arm around his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. “I could never replace you.”

@danceyreagan @gearhead66 @supernaturalvikingwhore  @funmadnessandbadassvikings ,  @smutgoblin , @nickysurfer28 , @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @lif3snotouttogetyou, @akamaiden, @laketaj24 @neeadinghugs, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @ilvebeenabad , @naaladareia, @tephi101 , @sdcyumyum  , @imgoldielikehawn , @sparklemichele , @titty-teetee  , @smolasianwinterbean  , @sweetvengeancee , @capitanostella , @ateliefloresdaprimavera , @branflakes82 , @lordavanti , @vvigilantes  , @angelswannawearmyredshooz , @kawennote09 , @bluearchersstuff , @lisinfleur , @fumblingthroughchaos @pebblesz892 , @angelaiswriting , @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995, @unacceptabletatertots @itsspecial-itsnotforeveryone, @captstefanbrandt, @writingfromasgard, @happydaysandersen, @letowolfie, @alicedopey, @beautifulramblingbrains, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @rosepetals-flyingbirds , @ivarswickedqueen, @oqueequesentes-borboletas, @sodanova, @groovyzombiellama, @therealcalicali, @rekdreams-fandom @grungyblonde, @nevlahhh , @natalie-reader, @ivarlothbroks, @lol-haha-joke , @medievalfangirl @fictionbanshee @thisisabigmaze  @ethereallysimple @emilie1993  @mariaenchanted @grav3yard-gh0st​ @youbloodymadgenius​

*I am operating on an old tag list, if you wish to be added/removed, please let me know*

[dawnwave16]

Not what I Expected.

Heya, so this is my very first fanfic and it was ment to be a one shot but it has run away and is taking me along for the ride.  Before anyone asks, I do have HC’s for it but no idea how far this will go!

1(Here); 2 ; 3

Anyway here’s Chapter 1:

Takes place during CM: BB episode 5 “ The Lonely Heart”

The case just didn't make any sense what so ever. First, the eyes were mutilated, then the head was removed.  What was the connection and what were they missing? Matt Simmons was sitting in the park near a school trying to clear his head as he asked himself those questions. In the distance, he could see a man feeding the pigeons and a policeman arguing with someone over a parking ticket. He closed his eyes trying to keep himself focused, forehead resting in his hands and his elbows on his knees.

“Sir?” He looked up again at the sound of a soft feminine voice. “Are you alright?” the voice continued. 

Matt sighed. “I'm alright, just trying to figure out the answers to something,” he replied then looked at the person talking to him. She was fair-skinned with ravens wing black hair that shone blue in the sunlight. Her eyes were a vivid blue, yet somehow, strikingly familiar, and she had freckles on her nose. If he had to guess her age he'd have said she was possibly 15 at most. 

“ If you stuck on a question and don't have all the answers, why don't you think of something different for a while? I find that always helps me when I'm trying to design and can't quite get it to look right.”

“What do you suggest I think about then?” Matt asked with a smile.

 “Well, I heard your stomach grumble so maybe you should think about some food? Or you could think about something you know will make you happy.” It was at this moment a scream was heard. Matt was instantly searching for the source of the scream. “Oh, not again!” The girl seemed almost exasperated and he was struck by how familiar it seemed. She looked at him calmly and said: “Head to the bakery that's behind you, tell the woman at the counter that Marinette sent you and she should help you.”

 “Wait I could-” 

She cut him off before he could continue, “No offence but you'll only be in Ladybug and Chat Noir's way if you try help out. I'm going to try to keep Alya from getting killed, not that she'll listen to me anyway!” The last part was said in a disgusted mutter and Matt made a mental note to ask her about it. It would have to be later though as she had already disappeared from sight.

Matt shrugged, he might as well do as the girl said. Marinette, she said her name was Marinette. Even as he walked to the bakery his mind lingered on how familiar she seemed, yet he knew he had never met her before. As he entered the bakery he was hit was the mouth-watering scent of fresh bread and pastries. 

“Welcome to Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, I'm Sabine Cheng, please feel free to look around and if you have any questions or would like to place an order I'll be with you as soon as I can!” The voice was cheerful yet edged with exhaustion and came from a small woman who looked very similar to Marinette.

 Must be her mother, he thought. He was quiet for a second then said “I was sent here by Marinette when the screaming started. She said you could explain it to me as she was going to try to stop a friend of hers from getting hurt.” 

“Oh! It's just an Akuma attack, we have them quite regularly these days, unfortunately.” She then told him everything that she could about the attacks and how they were handled. At one stage Jack Garret called to get an update and Matt explained where he was and that he would give a full debrief when he got back to the station. Suddenly, a swarm of red ladybugs seemed to fly through the air and Matt watched as everyone instantly relaxed again. Sabine smiled, “Looks like Ladybug and Chat Noir won again, I hope they didn't have too much trouble!”

Before Matt could ask what she meant Marinette walked through the door. Her hair was messy and she seemed to be trying to hide her face, her eyes downcast. 

“Marinette?” Sabine asked softly. Marinette looked up, a bright red handprint was visible on the face and it was slightly swollen. “What happened?” Sabine hurried over to her daughter and looked at her closely. “Who hit you?” Marinette sighed 

“Ayla did, Maman, Lila told her that I was trying to make Nino cheat on her and Ayla just took off. She refused to listen to me when I said it wasn't true!” 

Matt frowned, “Does Lila often do this type of thing? You seem resigned about how this has happened.” 

Sabine looked at Marinette and seemed to come to a decision. “Let me close up the shop and we can head upstairs to talk about this.” Marinette seemed about to protest so Matt spoke up. 

“I'm with law enforcement so maybe I can help come up with solutions with you. You have helped me today so please, let me help you.” Marinette pouted, then winced as it pulled her skin. 

“Ok, I guess I need to put ice on this too.”

Sabine walked to the door and flipped the sign then led the way upstairs.

“Where do you want me to start?” Marinette said warily, her eyes closed. She held an icepack wrapped in a thin towel lightly against the throbbing handprint on her face.

Sabine looked at Matt and seemed to come to a decision.

“While your papa and I know most of this it might be best for you to start at the beginning so that SSA Simmions can get a clear idea of everything that has happened. He might be able to see something that could help.”

Marinette kept her eyes closed but nodded in understanding.

“It all started with a new girl joining our class...” Marinette then told Matt everything that had happened since Lila had joined her class. She spoke about Mr Agreste's book and how Lila had stolen it, she spoke about the fact that she had been threatened in the bathroom and her near Akumatisation. She spoke about how her teacher kept saying she had to set an example for the rest of her class. As she spoke she seemed to almost fold into herself as she fought to keep herself from falling apart.

Matt was stunned as he listened. Here was a girl whole had gone out of her way to help him, a stranger, who did all she could to help everyone she could and yet this was the nightmare that she was living with. He wondered how she hadn't snapped yet, after all, he'd delt with unsubs who had snapped after far less. He also couldn't help but see his sons in her place and had to fight to stop himself from getting angry on her behalf. All the while he kept thinking that she reminded him of someone, he just wished he knew who it was. Then she said something that had him snapping to attention.

“Wait did you just say she claimed to be related to David Rossi, the author?”

“Yes, it's one of the few names I didn't recognise to I don't know if she is lying about that one or not. They have the same surname but that doesn't mean anything and to be honest, she could be lying about her name and none of us would know.”

“I can make some calls to check but I'm pretty sure Dave only has a grandson and no granddaughters, certainly none that would be your age.” He was about to say more but at that moment his phone went off. It was Clara saying that Jack was getting annoyed with how long he had been away and that they had a lead.

“You have to go don't you?” Marinette's voice was slightly hoarse from talking so much.

“Unfortunately yes but I would like to keep in contact and see what I can do to help.”

“Well then,” Sabine spoke up from the kitchen “You and your team are welcome to come round for a meal or even coffee to help relax before you fly home. I won't take no for an answer, either.”

“I'll tell the team. In the meantime here is my card and if I can get your number I'll call as soon as I can, either with ideas to help Marinette or when we are done.” Matt smiled slightly then he looked at Marinette. “As for you little lady, I will get hold of David to double-check about his family and do a bit of research to see what I can find.”

“You don't have to-” Marinette started.

“How could I not? I have children of my own and if they were in your situation I would do all I could to help them, just as your parents have done. I just happen to have more resources at my disposal,” he said with a wink.

Marinette smiled her first true smile of the afternoon as far as Matt could see, then nodded.

“Ok, then Agent Simmons.”

“Call me Matt.” He smiled, “I'll see you soon.”

As he left he thought over what he had heard. He also thought about why some of the things she did as well as her eyes seemed familiar. It was only as he scrolled through his list of contacts to find Garcia's name and saw one in particular that he realised why that was. Her eyes had the same tired quality as most BAU agents he knew but even without that, he should have recognised them. After all one of his contacts had the same eyes, identical in colour, shape and depth. Aaron Hotchner. 

[never-neverland]

Sapphire and Moonlight: Chapter 1

I decided I was going to go ahead and post it here as well. I’ll probably start doing a small Ao3 link in the authors notes instead of what I usually do with posting the entire link. So without further ado Chapter 1: Plans for the Future.

Plans for the Future

“Hey everybody welcome back to Miraculous Fitness, as some of you know I'm Marinette. For those of you who don't know this is a channel I started with some friends, we cover a variety of things. Meditation, dance, healthy eating habits, and a lot more. We're not certified health consultants or anything though,” The girl who wore a black pair of sweat pants with an apple blossom design on the leg and a black sports bra as she faced the camera said

Marinette felt a bit giddy as she looked at the camera, this thankfully was just a vlog entry to keep the fans updated, after all there was big news to share. She couldn't wait to see their reactions as she beamed at the camera practically vibrating with excitement. This was major news, the biggest news you could share really.

“I am sad to announce that Miraculous Fitness will be taking a brief hiatus while I go on a small trip. Not to worry though, Luka and Kagami will be here still, so you'll still be getting meditation, yoga, and whatever other zany things those two throw together. I wish I could keep you guys updated on the why but it's a top secret project. We will definitely be back though no need to worry. Once we're settled we promise we'll update you guys. Until then though, bug out.”

Marinette smiled as the video blinked out. A hand to her chest as she looked over and waited for the signal. Alya glanced up and gave her a thumbs up.

“You sure you don't want to tell them where we're going? I mean it's Gotham, sure it's the city of crime, but it's still pretty amazing,” Alya asked as they packed up their equipment.

“There's no reason to make them worry. We're just going for an internship after all,” Marinette said.

It was true, by some miracle they had been chosen for an amazing opportunity. Wayne Enterprises was an amazing place to work apparently, or at least this internship was going to be an amazing thing. Everyone in their class had gotten their pick of locations, Alya would be working with he public relations office, Max in the computer science department, Nino had been a bit harder to fit but Wayne Enterprises did host events occasionally so he had decided on that ultimately. The others had all chosen places that suited them as well. Marinette wanting her classmates to get their own choices had opted to simply write in her own choices spot that she was happy being placed anywhere so long as her classmates got their choices. When she had gotten her letter it had only outlined she had been accepted for the program, nothing beyond that. A vague letter, especially once she had seen the absolute mountains some of the others had received.

“I'm going to be meeting up with Lila soon, want to come,” Alya asked.

“Actually I'm meeting up with Kagami. Need to give her some last minute adjustments for the series. But you two have fun,” Marinette said.

Marinette tried, and with herculean effort she succeeded in schooling her expression into something amicable. Lila and she would never get along, and the others would never listen to her about the lies that spewed from the girls mouth, but she had found a type of inner peace. Truthfully she would have never thought of Miraculous Fitness, between running around doing favors for everyone, being Ladybug, and all her other responsibilities she had been stretched thin. It was thanks to the brief time she was left blowing in the wind she was able to recenter and figure out some things about herself. Things she wanted to do. In truth though, it hadn't been easy, letting Lila lie and manipulate others...but Kagami and Luka had both helped her come up with methods of dealing with her frustrations.

In truth they were her inspiration for Miraculous Fitness, Luka and his meditation, Kagami and her fencing, besides fashion and swinging around as Paris's own Ladybug she found that she actually did have these pockets of empty time. Time that had previously been carved out for all of the favors she used to be on call for. So she started experimenting, yoga, dance, a brief stint kickboxing. She had even started vlogging to document it all, not as a way of rubbing anyone’s noses into it, but she would feel flashes of inspiration in the moment and she wanted to remember the feeling as she designed based on the experience. She had NEVER expected anyone to actually enjoy her silly videos but they did! So she had turned originally to two people she knew she could rely on for content and inspiration, but most of all a calm and quiet placed to land, Kagami and Luka.

Kagami had been harder to convince than Luka, but when Marinette had asked her to teach her about fencing and had actually posted a  nearly hour long video of the two talking about safety equipment and the importance of making sure your equipment was the right size for you, she had relented. Marinette even managing to convince her mom that it was a good thing, exposure through other medias and would also look excellent on applications. One of the creators of content for a successful web series.

That was besides the point though, Gotham was calling their name. Miraculous Fitness would be fine without her....Paris would be okay too. She had to think about her life after Hawkmoth was defeated and that meant going to this internship and making herself marketable. She had to think about life beyond Hawkmoth, and that was exactly what she had told Master Fu when he had tried to talk her out of going to this internship. So a compromise had been made, she would take Kaalki and if need be a quick portal and she would be back, but Luka and Kagami could handle things, distract and protect their fellow Parisians until she could get back.

Arriving at the Couffaine's houseboat Marinette called out as she heard the sounds of a guitar being carefully picked at. Silence met her greeting but she finally saw his head pop out over the edge.

“Hey come on, Kagami got here a while ago,” Luka said.

Marinette couldn't help her smile as she boarded the boat. Before she had found a balance the ship had even made her anxious, bumping into Lila while she was hanging out or having Rose and Juleka look at her like she was in the wrong. Now though she felt light as air. Lila would paint herself into a corner it was just a question of when, and while she wasn't some paragon of patience she was sure the pay off for her patience would be incredible.

“You'll be leaving for Gotham soon won't you,” Kagami asked, as if she didn't know that they were scheduled for an insanely early morning flight.

“Yep, before the sun is up so dark and early.”

“Well hopefully Hawkmoth doesn't send out an Akuma and you can all relax,” Luka chimed in, looking up from his tuning.

Marinette laughed at that, he had been slamming them pretty hard and all she wanted if she was being honest was a nap, but there was no rest when you ran a store based on commissions, were a superhero even with support, and ran a fitness blog with friends. The daily grind was relentless.

“Honestly, I'm going to sleep the entire flight there.”

“Do you know who it is you're sitting by,” Kagami asked.

“Won't know until I'm on the plane I guess,” Marinette said with a shrug.

It wasn't that she wasn't worried, ending up by Lila would be a nightmare but she would deal with it if she had to. If she could help it though she would rather sit by a complete stranger, less likely to engage her in conversation and she could sleep or work.

“I came by to drop off some things though. You guys are going to need the posting schedule and don't forget about the live stream for this weekend. We promised and just because I'm leaving doesn't mean we can't or shouldn't keep it. Also don't forget the new items for the store are going to be up soon,” Marinette said handing them both folders filled with schedules and some prints of new designs for the store.

“Marinette, you're worrying for nothing, Luka and I know how much trust you are placing in us. We love this project just as much as you do. We will not let you down and you are but a phone call away. Now you know you must make sure you are done packing,” Kagami said as she and Luka shared an amused look.

Gripping her by the shoulders Kagami turned her back towards solid ground, ignoring her stammers and protest. She was stalling, her stress levels high at the thought of not only leaving Paris, but also of being in a foreign country. Turning back to the ship to protest she could only hang her head as Kagami stood on the gang plank, a hand on her hip as she pointed in the direction of the bakery. Seeing the resolve in her friends eyes she began to trudge home alone, once a fair distance from the boat her purse wiggled as Tikki popped her head out.

“Marinette you know she's right. You still haven't finished packing,” Tikki reminded the girl.

“Oh, I know Tikki. I'm just so worried. My packet didn't have nearly as much information as everyone else, and what if Hawkmoth figures out that Chat Noir and Ladybug are out of the country? There's so many what if's...maybe this internship was a bad idea. Maybe Master was right,” Marinette lamented, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng you listen to me. You're future is in your own hands, you are not going to let anything stop you. You're Ladybug, but you're also so amazing even without that! You can do this,” Tikki said, trying to giver her chosen a much needed pep talk.

“Yeah, yeah I can do this! I'm not going to just lose an amazing opportunity. I worked so hard to get this internship,” Marinette said. “Tikki let's go.”

With a new purpose to her walk she took off heading home to pack. She had no idea what was waiting for her when the tires of the plane touched down on the tarmac or what new things she would discover. She just knew that she was going to face it and maybe she would mess up but it was going to be fine, she wasn't alone.

[darqx]

It ain’t no big thing

(just show them a little swing). In which there’s a Lady Rire cosplay 101 and how to pronounce Lucien.

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

I pronounce it as “loo-shyen” with a soft “sh”, though “loo-syen” is also acceptable.

(❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ* Ah i’m so happy to hear that! And it would be really cool to see that cosplayed if you could manage it (she’s...a bit more difficult lol)! I can’t draw a 101 currently but here’s a photoset of what basic elements her design is made up of:

Lady Rire actually has medium/long hair, it’s just in an updo

Black sunglasses

Dark grey shoulderless long sleeve top (the sleeve cuffs are same as original demon Rire design) with subtle lace patterning at neck area

Yellow brooch from original design, but with added thin chains

Black and gold damask underbust corset (pattern is same as Rire’s vest)

Black and gold bustle skirt - the inner layer/skirt is gold, outer is black

Black sheer knee high socks/stockings with damask pattern

Black ankle boots, high heel

You might also want some black lipstick and eyeliner

Oh ye tumblr in their infinite wisdom decided that you cant see ANY extra pages of a “”sensitive”” blog because you can’t open those pages in dashboard. So, unfortunately that affects the music credit page on EP’s tumblr :/ I have however rebuilt the credit page on mine: https://darqx.tumblr.com/btdmusic

If Cain isn’t all out with the wings and halo, Rire would still feel from the onset that Cain is “off” (he wouldn’t give a vibe of being a Royal or a demon, nor a human) and so would be subtly sizing him up and calculating odds through any interactions being had.

-squints at-

Drink up friend :>

1) Rire doesn’t gulp tea down willy nilly like a savage (lol) so he’d be able to tell if tea was made from holy water :d He can sense these kind of things - and even if he did somehow manage to miss it he’d definitely know once the tea touches his lips. Most likely would commend person for creativity, leave them sweating in uncertainty as he mildly directs them to make a second untampered cup under close supervision, and then torture them as soon as they finish or let their guard down (whichever comes last)

2) Oh he’d be annoyed! He’d make an educated guess that was no accident and wow, rude, human! Would stab person “accidentally”, maybe after some very pointed “oh little human you are so uniquely clumsy it’s ok i know you didnt mean it” if he’d been feeling “”genial”” beforehand.

3) Rire can bite, not every bite is a special marking bite haha.

4) This would actually surprise him a bit and would initially take him aback until his mind thinks up a way to use this to his advantage (either for his own entertainment purposes or for a deal)

There isnt going to be a BTD3 as everyone is working on their own projects at the moment! Gato and EP are both in the process of making their own separate games that are in a similar vein to BTD though - i’m p sure they’ve both got Patreons which detail them so you can go and check those out for updates and stuff :)

Usually several months - though less if his prior entertainment victim was disappointing. I say entertainment victim because there’s like different categories of victim and entertainment ones generally get 1:1 time and he doesn’t tend to have more than one of those at the same time.

I do it to torment all of you

He doesn’t because i figured i’d leave that as more of a Cain thing! I’ve entertained the idea that Angel!Rire’s feathers can turn really sharp, so he could either envelope someone in his wings like some horrifying living iron maiden-esque thing or pluck and throw them at people like daggers to “stigmata” them (they grow back really quickly). If you notice the doodles i’ve done too you’ll see blackness dripping from the bottoms of his feathers and halo, so there’s a possibility that underneath all the feathers there’s something ichor-esque.

Haha summoning Rire is not canon mind you, but in the case of that headcanon he would pretty much put the second person “on hold”. So it would seem like the summoning would fail/be fake, and then at some random time when least expected Rire just appears in their house or something lol.

I did! It’s on a post on Tumblr somewhere but i’ll just put it here too

He MIGHT if a victim has one (like a handgun, not like an assault rifle or something ridic) but that’s more because he enjoys using peoples own things against them rather than him actually liking guns (he doesn’t really see the use of them personally).

Hullo i’m doing well thanks! ^^

I’ve only ever drawn him with pointy sharp teeth so “realistically” i’d say that his dentition is more like a carnivore’s and so his back teeth which we don’t usually see would be molars but in a specific pointy shape as well (kinda like carnassial teeth).

I think that pets would react to him really depending on their personality. So, say if someone has a cat that always seems to stare at nothing (or something supernatural) that’s what they’d do to Rire. Or for pets that have had intuition before that someone’s partner was bad for them they would react accordingly and like growl/hiss/try and bite him. Or if a pet is like my aunty’s dog who is a friendly absolute dumbass and would likely roll over and let an intruder pet him...same thing haha.

This is what his hairstyle looked like when he was younger:

But only if he’s dominating otherwise he’d heavily critique the characterisations happening.

(I havent seen that webseries to answer this lol. I do like how bouncy and fluid the trailer song was though)

[celestelavie]

Food for Thought || Celeste & Luce

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @divineluce and @celestelavie SUMMARY: Celeste gets off work early and decides to drop off some lunch for Ulfric. He’d already gone home for the day, so Luce and Celeste enjoy a nice lunch together.

While she wasn’t quite sure she’d say Ulfric liked her, Celeste could pick up on the fact he felt less tense around her. Of course, he was never anything less than courteous to her and she was doing her best to show him as much kindness as possible. After all, he’d opened up his home to them and was working diligently to insure Ariana’s safety. Since she had cut from work early for the day, she decided she could bring lunch by the shop for Ulfric on her way home. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d be a fan of red meat if Ariana’s affinity for it was any indication. She’d brought two burgers and some fries with her to the shop, hoping she would catch Ulf during a break between appointments. She didn’t love hanging around in her Al’s uniform, but a short lunch wouldn’t hurt. As she walked into the shop, she saw no sign of Ulfric. She walked up to a young woman who was sitting at the counter and asked, “Is Ulfric around?” 

Usually, Luce wasn’t in the business of covering the receptionist desk. She’d done her time doing that as an apprentice, answering phone calls and getting the calendars all set up. But, the girl who usually ran the desk today had to run because of a family emergency and Luce had time to kill. The design for her appointment later today was finalized and she was more than happy to get some work done on her own art pieces. Which is why she was sitting at the desk, sketch book in front of her. When the bell above the door jangled, Luce glanced up woman who approached. Older, probably around Bea’s age or so, but cute. The uniform helped too. “Ulf? You just missed him.” Luce said with a shake of her head, glancing at the bag of food in her hands. “Let me check his calendar though, see if he might pop back in soon.” She said, scrolling through the computer, “Damn. Sorry, he’s gone for the rest of the day.”

Damn. Celeste hadn’t taken into account he may have not had appointments for the rest of the afternoon. It was usually a little later in the afternoon that she’d see him come home. Oh well, she supposed she had entirely too much food now. She looked to the woman who had been working on a sketch. She wondered if this was the woman Ariana mentioned was helping with Ulfric’s birthday gift. If she had to guess, the woman was a few years younger than her but clearly established in her trade. Good for her. “I probably should have called first, I was bringing lunch since I got off work early today.” Looking down at the now greasy bags in her hand, she said, “Hey, you must be the artist helping Ariana with Ulf’s birthday gift. Care for a cheeseburger?” 

“Eh, shit happens.” Luce said with a shrug. She still wasn’t entirely sure why this woman was here-- she didn’t think that Al’s was doing delivery. And if they were, they needed to work on making sure to send the delivery folks to the right location. But, when the woman mentioned her project for Ariana, bringing up Ulf again, Luce raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s me. She’s a good kid, I’m surprised she wanted to do something this big for him, but it’s a cool project for me to work on.” At the offer of food, she leaned back in her chair before tilting her head towards another one of the other empty stools nearby. Perhaps it was just because of the value of magic, of everything being a give and take, but she didn’t particularly like handouts. But, a trade? She could get behind that. “Tell you what. I’ll take a cheeseburger in exchange for company. It gets boring at the desk.” Figuring that wasn’t much of a trade, Luce added, “I’ll throw in a drawing for some fries, if you’ve got them.”

Celeste was glad to hear that this was in fact the woman helping out Ariana. From what she’d seen of the updates so far, it was shaping up to be an impressive piece. Though she was sure from the outside looking in, it was odd that a teenager was making such a big gift for Ulfric. If it hadn’t been for their shared nature, Celeste would have found it odd as well. She shrugged with a toothless grin on her face, “I think she’s really excited about diving into the whole carpentry thing. Plus, he’s done a lot for both of us. She tends to be very go big or go home or whatever it is the kids are saying these days,” she explained with a laugh. The prospect of company that wasn’t a teenager or a werewolf who was merely tolerating her presence actually sounded quite nice. Taking care of tables at Al’s was truly about as social as she got these dies though as much was probably wise all things considered. Lunch with Luce sounded like good fun. She smiled wide at the woman being sure to overlook the bruised nose, “Company would be delightful. I haven’t had the chance to make many friends since moving here so most of my conversations are ‘how would you like your eggs’, teenager things, or Ulf swearing in Norweigian.” She said the last bit with a laugh. It was actually quite amusing, but she was sure he didn’t think as much. At the mention of a drawing, Celeste smirked and said, “Well, I guess it’s my lucky day then since I brought fries. I suppose if we’re dining together, I should properly introduce myself.” She extended her hand, “I’m Celeste, Ariana’s older sister and waitress extraordinaire.” She motioned to the ridiculous little 50s get-up she had to wear to work every day. 

“Sounds like it’s working out really well for her. The piece of wood she gave me should make for a good table. I’m just hoping that the design turns out how she wants.” Luce said with a nod before grabbing one of the chairs from around the desk and cleared a spot for the woman to join. “Well, I’m not ordering eggs, the teenager ship set sail a long time for me, but I do know some choice Norwegian swears, courtesy of the man himself.” She said with a grin. “Turkish is my language of choice for swearing, though.” Luce said with a wink before scooting out of the way to let the woman sit beside her. “Nice to meet you, Celeste. I’m Luce, the best thing that happened to Ulf’s shop. Short of him, you know, opening up the place.” She said, before switching gears. “How’d you and Ulfric know each other?” Was she the totally not kinky lady who was looking for the rope and mayonnaise? 

While this wasn’t her original plan, Celeste was pleased with how it worked out. She had the feeling Luce would be a little more chatty than Ulfric was with her. Bless his heart, he did try and be as kind to her as possible, but the underlying tension was hard to ignore. One day, he’d be able to trust her fully and she could hardly blame him that it was something that needed to be earned. It didn’t mean lunch with a woman who was close enough in age to her wouldn’t be a welcome change of pace. “Thank god,” she said with a laugh, “If I have to hear over-easy, YEET, or faen one more time today, I might actually lose it.” She joined her for a seat and pulled out the burgers and fries, passing Luce’s lunch down to her. “Turkish, huh? You speak fluently or are the swear words your specialty?” There was a small smirk on her lips before she picked at a few of the french fries. The next question should have been expected, but she wasn’t quite sure how to answer it. It’s not like she could just say Ulfric was her sister’s wolfy mentor or protector. She couldn’t even quite define it herself and knew it wasn’t something she was meant to understand. “I guess you could say he’s a family friend. He’s helped Ariana and myself out a great deal with things as of late, I thought it’d be nice to drop by some lunch for him on my way home.” Celeste found herself curious about Luce as well. Her face was a little bruised up which was a call for question in itself, but she seemed young and established. “How long have you known Ulfric? It seems like you’ve made quite the career for yourself here.” 

“I’ll be sure to keep my extensive knowledge of memes out of lunch, then.” Luce laughed, accepting the container with the burger and fries with an appreciative nod. It beat the sandwich she’d thrown together this morning, for damn sure. She was usually pretty on top of her shit, but after the run in she and Nell had with August after the coven meeting… it had rattled her, more than she’d like to admit. Pushing the thought from her mind, she focused on the woman next to her. “Fluent, nah. Conversational enough to piss off the grandparents? Bunu kolayca yapabilirim.” She said, the language rolling off her tongue. “I can certainly teach you some swears, if you’re interested.” Luce smirked and took a bite from her burger. She hadn’t forgotten her part of the deal, but getting burger grease on her sketch pad was the last thing she wanted. So, she watched the Celeste speak instead. “He’s a good guy, he does a lotta shit like that.” She nodded, thinking back to his request for some kind of magic protection thing from her sisters. He still owed her for that. She’d have to cash it at some point. Swallowing, Luce wiped her mouth with a napkin before flipping her arm over, showing Celeste the inside of her right arm and the large lightbulb tattoo that lay there. “He did this for me when I was 18. We got to talking, about art and shit, and he told me I was wasting my time in college. Turns out, he was right. I quit school and took an apprenticeship here within a month.”

“I’m not that old, I still enjoy a good meme,” Celeste retorted with a laugh. Memes she could deal with. Her patience was running a bit thin when it came to TikToks though, especially since Ariana had discovered she could make them herself and took to pranking Celeste. It was funny how technology cycled. When she was Ariana’s age, MySpace had just been dying and was being replaced by Facebook. Now there was a whole slew of channels that she couldn’t quite be bothered with. She took a bite out of her burger and had to choke back a laugh, “Nothing quite as fun as pissing the grandparents off, or the parents too if you’re me. Do I get a translation for that bit?” She smirked as she set the burger down to trade for a few fries, “I may just have to take you up on that.” She had a mouth full of burger as she listened to Luce speak. There was no doubt in her mind that Ulfric was a good man. She knew her invite to stay in his home was primarily due to Ariana, but allowing a hunter in his home, even one that didn’t hunt wolves, was more kindness than she could have expected. She had no doubt he showed kindness to others as well. “I could see that,” she said simply, not wanting to touch too much on how Ulfric had helped her and Ariana personally. She imagined it had to be nice discovering a career and diving in at such a young age. She was happy Ariana was able to do as much as well. “That’s pretty impressive, I thought you seemed pretty young to be so established in your field. I’ve always imagined tattooing to be a pretty fun job. What’s the most fun piece you’ve ever given someone?” 

“My b,” Luce raised her hands innocently and laughed herself before grabbing a couple fries from the box. Chewing, she shrugged. “I said, I can do that easily. My sisters and I learned English and Turkish at the same time, but since we speak English all the time, it’s the one that stuck the most. That said, I can tell you all the fun swears that Ulfric doesn’t know. Like… ciğerini sikeyim.” She said with a roguish grin. “Literally, it means fuck your liver, but it basically is like… a really strong version of go fuck yourself.” She explained and took another bite from the burger before setting it back down in the tray. Dusting her hands free of crumbs, she flipped to a clean page of her sketchpad. “Thanks. It’s a good time, gives me a lot of freedom to be as creative as I want. Within the realm of what my clients are looking for.” She said with a nod. Tapping her pencil on the sheet, she began to do some rough sketches, drawing aimlessly. “Depends on what you think is fun. Visually fun, I once did a rad Neo-traditional sailing ship and mermaid scene. Fun for me personally to create, I did a great blackwork leg sleeve.” She said. “Both were great, I liked them a lot.”

“Ciğerini sikeyim,” Celeste said slowly, trying to get the pronunciation correct, “I like that one. I’m definitely using it the next time someone pisses me off.” She laughed as she picked at more of her french fries, “I get that, my parents tried to teach me French and German growing up, but really English is the only one that solidly stuck. I can order a beer in all three languages though. Clearly, I have my priorities straight.” There was a small smirk on her lips before she took another bite out of her burger. A slight pang of sadness hit her listening to Luce talk about her own career. Being on the run since the age of sixteen didn’t make for great career opportunities. Maybe one day, if things settled down and she no longer had to worry about her parents, she could actually pursue Nursing School as she had always wanted to do. “It sounds like you made a great choice hopping into the field then. I hope to get on the better late than never track with some sort of actual career. I definitely have a limited number of years of this getup still looking good on me,” she remarked with a chuckle as she gestured down towards her ridiculous 50s get-up that was customary at Al’s. She watched curiously as Luce pulled out her sketchpad. “Both sound fascinating. I’ve always toyed around with the idea of getting a tattoo, but have never actually committed to an idea. I did used to want to be a mermaid when I grew up. Given, that was six year old me’s aspiration.” 

Pleased with her quick grasp of the pronunciation, Luce nodded. “For sure, give it a shot the next time someone decides to be a dick at Al’s or something.” She said. Raising an eyebrow, Luce grinned. “I dunno, beer is very important. Alcohol’s an essential food group in my book.” She joked, amused. Though Turkish was one of the two languages she’d learned growing up, she’d been forced to take a foreign language in high school which meant she’d suffered through a couple years of Spanish. The most she could remember, beyond asking for a beer and saying that was a tiger in bed, was probably asking where the library was. “It’s never too late to start doing something new,” Luce agreed. “What are you thinking of doing, hm?” As the woman mentioned something about being a mermaid, Luce’s pencil shifted. Pulling away from the odd doodles and random assortment of shapes in uniform patterns she’d done as a warm up, she glanced up at the woman. “You like the ocean? Or just the idea of it?” She asked, beginning to scrawl some curving lines onto the page.

A proud smile appeared on Celeste’s face as she realized she had gotten the pronunciation spot on. She’d enjoyed learning new languages, but being out of practice made it easy to forget them. “You are just filled with good ideas. I can’t get written up for swearing if no one knows what I’m saying,” she mused with a small laugh. Some of the middle of the night drunk crowd deserved that level of swearing. She’d polished off her own burger and neatly crinkled up the wrapper and placed it back in the paper bag. Her eyes drifted to the sketchpad and she found herself in awe of how people could just bring things to life on paper that way. Luce’s question caught her attention and she found she felt somewhat sheepish about it. “One day, I’d like to do the whole nursing school thing. I’ve always enjoyed helping people and I’m good with first aid. Not at all squeamish, but we’ll see. Ari is starting to work now too, so it's a little less pressure on me to put in so many hours myself.” She looked down momentarily before adding, “Maybe don’t mention that to Ariana though. I wouldn’t want her to feel bad.” She smiled easily again at the talk of mermaids and the ocean. Much easier to think about than trying to tackle college after thirty. Logically, she knew college when she was taking care of a five year old werewolf wasn’t realistic, but the part of her that had been a perfectionist back in grade school still felt off about the whole thing. “What can I say? I really loved The Little Mermaid growing up. I think it was more about Ariel than it was about the ocean though,” she answered with a chuckle, “The ocean is fascinating. More of a mountain girl myself, but there’s something serene about listening to the waves.” 

“I know, right? I should start charging for all the good ideas I’ve got rattling around.” Luce replied, her easy smile still on her face. “First one’s free, next ones cost ya.” She said roguishly before returning her focus onto the image at hand. Listening came easily to Luce-- after all, it was part of her job. People liked to chatter while they were in pain. They liked to talk, to distract themselves, so she was no stranger to being able to hold a conversation while also working on a tattoo. And this wasn’t all that different. “A nurse, huh? That’s pretty cool. Helping people and doing good and stuff. And don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” She said with a shrug. Leaning back from the small ocean scene she’d drawn up, Luce scrutinized the cresting wave before taking her eraser to it. Not quite what she wanted. At the mention of the woman’s interest in the Little Mermaid, she raised an eyebrow. Oh? “That’s a big fucking mood. Ariel could get it. Then again, pretty much any of the Disney princesses can.” She said. At the mention of mountains, Luce began to draw a scene just along the shoreline of the beach. She drew in a forest scene, something similar to the way the beaches outside of White Crest looked, with tall pine trees looming just beyond the sand. “How’s this looking?” She asked, holding up the image.

“You might be onto something there. The illusive they always say if you’re good at something, don’t do it for free,” Celeste smirked and added, “Thanks for the introductory freebie.” It was nice to have someone outside of her coworkers and current roommates to talk with. She’d never really expressed her own aspirations before. With being on the run and having her parents try to track them down, it never seemed like something feasible anyhow. Ariana was dead set on staying here though so she supposed she could go ahead and enroll for classes at the community college. Luce was nice to talk to though she supposed it was part of the job. “Yes, I was thinking about enrolling in classes at the community college for the fall now that we are permanently staying somewhere and Ariana also has a job. And thanks.” Celeste had never been great at drawing or painting, so it was fascinating to see someone work at it so naturally. Luce seemed to be really in her element and there was something sort of relaxing about it. She found herself immediately laughing at the remark about Disney princesses, “I really vibed with her because of the parental defiance thing, but you’re not wrong. All the Disney princesses are pretty hot. If we’re going for hot animated chicks though, the Sailor Scouts are where it’s at. Tuxedo Mask can also get it on that note.” She looked over the drawing and grinned widely. A mountain beach scene was what she’d always hoped for in a place to build a home. She answered, “It’s looking perfect.” 

“Damn straight.” Luce said approvingly, the only time straight could be used to describe her. “You’re more than welcome. Next one though, you’ll have to pay me back. I’ll be keeping track too.” Adding a bit more detailing work onto the curl of the wave, she began to shade, adding in some of the finer lines and curves to the way it crested. It was all coming together, into one coherent piece. Her pencil flowed over the page, the image forming just as it had in her mind. “That’s a solid plan. Save money where you can and all that, nobody will knock you for community college.” She nodded. Money had never been a thing that she’d ever had to worry about-- Mom and Dad had always had that on lock. But, still. She could relate, sort of. She’d been hellbent on trying to get away from their influence on her life. Getting her cabin had been a part of that and taking her apprenticeship was an ever larger part. “Parental defiance, huh? I get that.” Luce said, gesturing to her sleeve of tattoos. Her parents had been... disappointed when they’d seen her first tattoo. But, whatever. “That’s the whole, Sailor Moon thing, right? Some of the guys at the shop have done tattoos of that show for people. I was never into it. I might have to check it out.” She said, though her eyes flicked meaningfully over Celeste. She’d much rather check her out. “Awesome. I can ink it and then we’re square for lunch.”

“What’s the running rate on your good ideas? Have to make sure I’m not taking more ideas than I can afford and all,” Celeste joked with an eyebrow raised. The normalcy of their whole conversation was a welcomed change. No talk of hunters, werewolves, or eggs and burgers. It didn’t hurt that Luce had a pretty good sense of humor and was easy to talk to. She tried to keep an eye on the page as Luce drew. There was clearly some natural talent there backed by years of practice. “Yeah, I’m pretty good about being frugal with money, given for a while it was more out of necessity.” Running off with a werewolf child aside, one of the bigger cruel shocks of the real world was how fucking expensive everything was. Growing up, she’d always had money because of her parents. It had been a rude awakening, but somehow they’d made it. She laughed a bit over their shared parental defiance. “Can’t say my defiance was quite so visual, but I’m effectively disowned,” she said with a shrug. It was a subject she tried to be casual about. The news of her parents having a bounty on her and Ariana and wanting them both dead was a little extreme by most standards. “I loved it as a kid. Then again, I tend to enjoy anything where it’s the girls saving the day. A little cheesy as an adult, but you may appreciate the outfits,” she explained catching Luce’s look over her. Color rose in her cheeks and looked down with a small smile before looking back up to Luce. She certainly wasn’t subtle, but she kind appreciated that. “Right, totally square. I still think I got the better end of this trade, but I’ll take it.” 

“Depends on what you’d be willing to pay.” Luce teased as she sifted through the cup of pens on the desk for a fine ballpoint. “Could be some good conversation or a new idea for a sketch. Or a kiss.” She flashed a cheeky grin at the other woman before setting to work with the inking. The lines were already pretty clean, but inking it in was what really brought it all together. “For sure. It’s a good way to live.” She said, though she really didn’t have much room to speak. Though she might have bought her own cabin, her parents had still done a lot for her. A lot more than she’d ever wanted. At the woman’s admission of her own familial situation, Luce said nothing. Instead, she focused on her linework. People had told her things like that before-- how they were getting a tattoo as a final ‘Fuck you’ to their parents, or as some kind of cleansing to erase the past that haunted them. And it was always better to say less, rather than more. “Makes sense why you’d relate to her then.” She replied, keeping her tone neutral. “Well, now I have to give it a watch.” Luce laughed and blew on the wet ink for a moment before taking her eraser to the picture. “Oh? You don’t think my trade was fair?”

“Hm, seems I can afford another good idea then,” Celeste retorted with a smirk. Maybe flirting with a member of Ulfric’s staff wasn’t entirely appropriate, but it was probably harmless. It was nice to get attention that wasn’t entirely inappropriate from older men during breakfast rushes. She watched Luce continue working on the finishing touches of the sketch, relieved she didn’t push further on the parent thing. Everyone had their own family issues of some sort and it was a lot more comforting to not go into the details. She rested her head on her knuckles as she observed Luce incredulously. She made the whole process look so effortless and she seemed to be really in her element. It was a nice sight to see. She imagined that applied even more when she was behind the tattoo needle. At the mention of relating to the sailor scouts, she laughed, “Thanks. And I thought that little bit of information might win you over.” Her head tilted a bit on her palm watching Luce dry the ink, there really was so much that went into drawing that was beyond her. “Oh,” she answered, “I think new art and your company is a little bit better than a not quite hot lunch, but no complaints here.”

 “How about this one-- You and me, getting drinks sometime. It sounds like a good idea in my book.” Luce asked, looking at the woman with an earnest expression. Celeste was hot, she was hot, it’d be hot. And besides, what was she gonna lose by shooting her shot? The worst that could happen was she’d get turned down. With a final look at the picture, Luce nodded to herself before putting her signature on the bottom right corner of the page. A large looping L with a slash of a V. “You thought right.” She said as she held out the completed picture for the woman to take. She could still see some places she didn’t like, some spots where the waves met that looked weird, a tree with some branches that didn’t make much sense. But, it was a quick drawing. “The way I see it, I came out with some good art practice, good conversation, and,” She picked up her half eaten burger and bit into it, “The satisfaction of eating my boss’s lunch.” 

The suggestion has caught Celeste a bit off guard, but she figured what harm could come from it? It’d been a long while since she’d actually been out… with well, anyone. She’d enjoyed hanging out with Luce and there was no denying she was a beautiful woman. What could it hurt? “I think that may be your best idea today,” she answered with a wide grin. Grabbing a pen out of the pocket in her uniform, she scribbled her number down from a paper on her order pad and handed it to Luce with a small smile still present on her face. “Text me sometime.” she advised, keeping her tone cool. As she looked over the finished product, she was somewhat in awe. Luce had finished it so quickly yet it came out lovely. A perfect little scene that she’d have to hang up in their current room. It was definitely more tasteful than that one creepy painting Ari insisted on keeping up. “I love it,” she said, “And alright, alright. We can call it even then.” She picked up her purse again and looked to Luce one last time as she left, “Hope to see you again soon.”

[suicidalcatz]

DOG DAYS ARE OVER : CHAP 14

Pairing : Jake Kiszka x reader

Genre : College AU

Previous parts : Prologue ; Chap 1 ; Chap 2 ; Chap 3 ; Chap 4 ; Chap 5 ; Chap 6 ; Chap 7 ; Chap 8 ; Chap 9 ; Chap 10 ; Chap 11 ; Chap 12 ; Chap 13

Masterlist : Here

AN : Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, I’m super excited about this chapter, you’ll know why soon! Starting from now I rushed things a bit because I figured you’ll get impatient by now (47 pages with this chapter). This takes place just after the end of Part 13 ! Please please tell me what you thought of it, I’m excited to read your comments! On a sad note, I’m late on my chapters so I won’t be able to keep the rythmn of 2 updates per week. Thank you for all your love and support it warms my heart and pushes me to always do my best !

Chapter 14 : Is this your gift ?

The evening went on pleasantly, as always when we were together. Mandy told us about her making out with a boy at New Year's Eve and awful uncle jokes at Christmas. Josh shared more embarrassing highschool stories from the time he was a theater kid, that Jake obviously wasn't aware of until now. The long haired guitarist seemed to feel better now, or at least his mind was focusing on something else than his breakup, adding his contribution to Josh's anecdotes and laughing alongside us when his brother shared some shameful memories of him. Both of us were tightly wrapped on a blanket after having dried ourselves the best we could. I could still feel the fabric of my dress sticking to my skin in an uncomfortable way, whereas Jake didn't bother further with his damp shirt and had completely removed it for a new one. It was his room after all. And just for the record, the knowing smile Josh had given me when his brother was shirtless had been enough to prevent me from peaking.

When night dusked on us, the boys not only decided to serve eggnog and hot tea/coffee to keep us warm, but also to get their respective guitars out of their cases, owning surprised glances from Mandy and I.

- Do you own a guitar, Josh ?

- Now I know last time I said playing the guitar wasn't one of my many talents, but with the help of Jakey here, he gestured, I think it's safe to say it is now.

- Yeah let's not get ahead of ourselves here, added the brunette.

Sitting on the carpet with my cup of hot tea/coffee warming my hands and the blanket still on my shoulders, I let my back rest against Jake's bed while intently watching him place his accoustic guitar on his thighs, making sure it was in tune. Seeing Josh study his brother while imitating him like a good student made me smile, it was a cute sight. He was very serious about it, they both were about music, there was no denying that. The boys must've played this song before because no one exchanged a word on what they were about to play and yet when Jake whispered « 1, 2, 3, 4... » and began playing, Josh joined in the soft and slow melody, letting it caress our ears. The cosy atmosphere instantly put me at ease, the warmth and softness of the blanket in addition to the boys playing together was about to lull me to sleep. It was Jake's singing voice that put me out of my drowse. Similar to his brother yet lower and rougher, less experienced and more hesitant. His eyes stayed on his guitar strings when he sang the first lyrics of John Lennon's Happy Xmas, while I kept watching him, mouth slightly agape. Josh joined in, his singing experience more fitted to sing the acute and angelic's choir part, as he continued to glance at his brother's fingers dancing on the strings to make sure he was doing it right. The boy looked so proud by the end of the song, biting his lip with an expecting glance that made Mandy and I applaud and congratulate him.

- Okay, you're making me blush, let's listen to some music !

As time went by, Josh was getting a little bit too excited about the gifts under the tree. Like a child, he would pass by it multiple times, eyes hypnotized by the colorful wrapping paper and the ribbons on top, trying to guess what was inside. It's when Jake had finally enough of seeing him circle around them like a Christmas vulture (his words, not mine) that he declared it was time for us to exchange presents. And as I should've known, Josh was more excited about Mandy and I receiving our gifts than the other way around. He wanted to see our faces so much he had prepared his polaroïd camera for the occasion. Was it that good ? His eagerness and enthusiasm got into me and I could barely wait for him to be ready when he handed us both a small, messily wrapped, rectangular package. Once he was crouching in front of us with his face glued to the camera, Josh announced for us to start unwrapping. Decorating gifts really wasn't part of his qualifications. Everything fell apart when I pulled the ribbon, the paper opening its folds around my hand like a flower, delicately displaying the present in its heart. It was a black, red and green CD titled Greta Van Fleet, the name of their band. Seeking answers, my head shot up to Josh flashing my confused figure, while Jake simply smiled behind his cup of tea.

- You guys it's an album... W-When ? How ?

- Just to be clear, it's not a big deal, clarified Jake.

Josh put his camera aside, his bashful look glancing up from Mandy to me, before nervously scratching the back of his neck.

- Remember when you said you wanted to hear our songs again ? Well we had planned to record ourselves someday anyway so these are for you.

My heart instantly began to grow warm as a large grin spread itself on my lips, eyes fixated on the CD, the design of it, and the songs' titles. It made me so incredibly happy and giggly that they had thought about it, and took the time to make a copy for Mandy and I. And I was so proud of them for being so passionate about their music. Even if Jake made clear it wasn't anything official nor important, it still was so effing cool to hold their first album into my  own two hands. I couldn't wait to listen to it, and put the tracks on my phone to keep me company during my mornings in the workshop.

- Thank you so much, I smiled before hugging them both.

- How can you even find the time to record an album ? On a Christmas Holiday !

Mandy's comment made them laugh, but she was right, the boys couldn't stay home without something to do, or so it seemed. We didn't define a particular order for the gifts so Mandy offered hers after Josh, throwing a small and soft package to him, and handing the heavy one that was Jake's. Colorful kneesocks and a bottle of whisky, which they didn't wait to try on, of course. Josh immediately got into the kitchen to change to shorts so we could see his socks, and Jake poured himself a glass of whisky, switching between his two glasses.

- Okay doll, your turn.

- So, just in case you were wondering, Mandy and I already exchanged gifts because we saw each other during the holidays, I explained while handing them both a neatly wrapped package. So these are yours.

Seeing the boys squeeze and shake the gifts to try and figure what was inside made me more nervous than I had anticipated. I looked sheepish, in the middle of the room, sitting on the ground with my butt on my ankles, patiently waiting for them to stop with the suspenseful atmosphere and just rip the paper off their gifts. Josh was the first to give in to curiosity and was in my arms the next moment, thanking me for the gloves. It seemed like my friend and I raised the same concern about Josh's winter attire. Like he did with her, the boy kissed my cheek before trying them on, while Mandy took pictures, letting the polaroïd photos fall on the comfy carpet. Turning my head to Jake sitting on his bed, I couldn't really decipher his expression. A tiny black box was open in his hand, eyes caressing the ring on it like he wouldn't dare touching it. Suddenly feeling bashful, I understood it was time for me to explain myself regarding my choice of gifts, so I stood up, and carefully took place next to him.

- You forgot your rings at my dorm the other day, I said softly. I always see you wearing tons of them, so I figured I'd take this opportunity to buy you a new one... and also because the black one fell behind the fridge and I can't get it.

A small, nervous giggle escaped my throat. I wanted him to know that, like their album, it wasn't a big deal. I hadn't given it much thought when I chose to buy him a ring, there was no promise nor engagement behind it, just... Me thinking he would like another one of those. Or did I ?  Interromping my rambling, Jake's hand squeezed my thigh and his eyes found mine, face affectionate, smile warm.

- Thank you. I love it.

My face grew uncomfortably hot as we just stared at each other, with his long calloused fingers resting on my knee, long enough for me to start squirming on the bed. This sudden proximity was already making me a nervous wreck, so I abruptly stood up, nearly knocking my head on Josh's bed in the process.

- Right, your rings, here.

Opening his hand, I placed the three of them in it, enjoying the feeling of my fingers caressing his, before turning on my heels to get another drink. The other two must've noticed, because in the corner of my eye I saw them exchanging a knowing yet skittish glance. And I didn't even wanted to think about what these gremlins were up to, not that I had the time to do so anyway because it was Jake's turn to get on his feet and grab his paper bag, placing thin boxes in Mandy and I's hands.  Already knowing what he bought my roommie, I waited a bit to see her reaction when opening the box. And her reaction to the jewelry was great, she screamed excitedly, jumped and hugged Jake in a tight embrace but... I kept staring at the silver bracelet Josh was tying for her while confusion swept over me. It wasn't the one he had chosen.

- Won't you open yours ?

Jake's low voice was in my ear, making it instantly redden as if every part of my body agreed to fall under his charm. Doe eyed and taken aback by his sudden closeness, Jake’s hands found mine, making them slide on the smooth material, guiding them to open the box, glancing up at me when they did, studying my reaction. When my eyes landed on the gift, the thumping of my heart was so loud I got scared for a second he could hear me. It was the necklace he bought the other day. Even more confused, I searched in his brown pupils for an answer I didn't receive, fingertips shakily holding the box.

- Do you want me to put it on for you ?, his husky voice murmured.

Maybe my body went on auto pilot mode because the next thing I knew, his fingertips delicately put my hair back and caressed the sensitive skin of my neck to attach the purple necklace, his hair tickling me in the process. Jake took a moment to admire the sight in front of him, a smile on his face.

- I was right, it looks good on you.

- Thank you, I murmured, feeling shy.

It was all too overwelming. The present, our newfound intimacy, his gaze scrutinizing me, his breakup... It made me feel several ways all at once, something I wasn't quite ready for, and hadn't expected when I came here to party with friends. Josh must've known about the Mina situation because he didn't interfere once this evening, letting us grow accustomed to each other's presence, trying to test the waters like two strays encountering each other in the purest way imaginable. Like we were meeting for the first time. And while we kept looking into each other's eyes for an unspoken truth, the sound of music woke us from our transe. Josh had begun chanting along the slow song, quietly but confidently, sharing the joint he had lit up with Mandy, taking her hand in his, making her sway gently in the room.

Stars shining bright above you,

Night breezes seem to whisper « I love you ».

Birds singing in the sycamore trees,

Dream a little dream of me.

We watched them dance in silence in the dimmed lit room before Jake offered me his hand, the ring I had bought him reflecting the candles' light, shining bright. I gave him mine, and his arm found its way in the small of my back, pressing our bodies closer to each other, eyes never leaving mine. My dress was still a little bit damp, but he didn't seem to care, more engrossed in making me sway smoothly than everything else. And my whole being was so captivated by him that I couldn't care less about anything else happening around us. We were in our own little bubble, Josh's voice the only thing reminding us we weren't the only two people in the world. I didn't know how long it lasted, probably 3 to 4 minutes, the lenght of the song, but my eyes kept looking at him, lost in the brown ocean of his pupils. His embrace kept me warm, both inside and out, and I couldn't help a sheepish grin from adorning my features, showcasing the blush on my cheeks. Too absorbed himself, Jake sometimes bumped against furniture, or tripped on the carpet, but then we smiled, and continued dancing. I could tell we both were at ease with each other, his touch felt natural, like our skins were meant to connect. It made me think of the last time we were here together, on his bed, sharing our knowledge about stars and comets. The only star I could see now was him, shining oh so bright just in front of me, beautiful.

It all came to a stop when the song ended, filling the room with silence. Our eye contact continued, intense and questionning, as we got back to Earth, arms still tangled together. From afar, I could hear Josh changing the record, talking to Mandy, but everything seemed like a distant mumble to my ears.

- Would you mind ?

It was Josh, shaking us awake, making us hurriedly let go of each other as if we just realized what was going on. We were still baffled when he took Jake by the shoulders to move us away from the desk, opening the drawers in need of something all of a sudden.

- Oh !, exclaimed Mandy.

We all jerked our heads to her, hiding her giggles behind her hand in a girly way. Josh followed, an awfully wide toothy grin stretching his lips. Jake, like me, looked positively confused. Was my dress damaged ? Did I fuck up and didn't realize ? Like he had thought the same, the long haired boy looked at me, without finding anything, before Josh took place next to Mandy, backed against the drawer holding the records, joint in hand. Mine raised in a questionning manner, not understanding why they were serving us the big mischevious smirks.

As an answer, Josh slowly pointed his index to the ceiling. Mistletoe.

- You know the rule.

My whole body shook with embarrassment, not knowing how Jake would react and not really wanting to know either. Refusing to meet his gaze, I kept mine fixated on the ground while he studied the branch hanging out from a string, dangling above our heads like it was mocking us. Oh how I always hated those situations. All of them including a cute boy that would probably refuse to kiss me, without sparing me the shame of his rejection. I had to cut this awkward moment short.

- We're not forced, I murmured, if you don't want to then I-

- Who says I don't want to ?

That left me mouth agape. Jake didn't let my brain any time to process any of these informations before placing a hand to my jaw, brushing away the hair from my face, watching me carefully, silently asking for permission. My eyelids fluttered shut before I could even think, and in an instant, a soft and warm touch covered my lips, making me sigh deeply, releasing the breath I didn't know I was holding. My hand found his cheek at the same time his caressed the spot behind my ear, and his scent filled my nostrils. My heart was about to leap from my ribcage, and the simple sensation of his lips against mine made my knees turn to jelly. My head was filled with fireworks. I felt so small and vulnerable yet so safe in his arms, I never wanted for it to stop. During several seconds, we shared a chaste kiss, that lasted maybe more than was initially intentionned. Slowly, painfully so, I felt Jake's soft lips separating from their playmates, sighing, as we shared a shaky breath, opening our eyes to discover the other's face. I could tell in his gaze that something had clicked. His eyes were staring at me behind heavy lids, a sparkle I never saw before twinkling, watching me as if he was rediscovering me all over again while Bruce Springsteen's Fire played softly in the background.

You say you don't love me

But you can't hide your desire

When we kiss

Ooh... Fire.

[haikumomentsandinspiration]

#healthcarevacation, Part III

My last update was on August 25, 2018. So much has happened since then, so there will be at least two more parts to this documentation. If you missed earlier updates, you can read Part I here and Part II here. 

First of all, I did come up with a tattoo idea (see my last update) and got one last summer. I had had a challenging spring term in the 2018-2019 school year, and needed to remind myself who I am and what I’m about. So I went to my tattoo artist and asked her to design ”a badass mermaid” for me. A siren that’s feminine and strong (not a skinny blonde mermaid, please!), a siren who looks like she is ready to kick some ass if need be—soft, with hard edges.

And I got just that, along with a tattoo on the side of my belly of a fertility symbol from traditional Turkish kilim patterns.

But let me back up.

After August 2018, after a ton of research, we decided to go with donor egg IVF in Spain. Our patient coordinator at the clinic we chose was lovely and super communicative. She was available via WhatsApp anytime I had a question or anxiety or both, and made sure I knew what the next steps would be and when. I felt well cared for.

During my winter break, I flew to Spain soon before our donor’s egg retrieval to start the treatment. I flew into Barcelona to give myself some time in my favorite city before flying to Valencia. I had a cold right before my trip, and in Barcelona, I started feeling like my cold may in fact be a sinus infection. I was miserable. I managed to go outside, get some fresh ginger, some lemon ginger tea, cough drops, and congestion meds. I needed to get better...STAT.

Two days later, on the day I was to fly to Valencia in the evening and meet Gene at the airport there, I woke up to the news Gene couldn’t fly out to join me that day because his passport wasn’t good for at least 6 months. (Being Turkish, I wondered if someone had “cast the evil eye” on us.) Eventually, Gene was able to miraculously take care of all the paperwork, get an emergency passport renewal, and catch the same exact flight to VLC 24 hours later.

The day after G’s arrival, we took a bus to Gandía for our first appointment at Irema clinic. My uterine lining was still a bit too thin, so they upped my meds, but told me not to worry since I still had a week before the scheduled transfer day. That evening, Gene and I flew to Barcelona to boost morale before the transfer. I was feeling slightly better, but Gene ended up catching my cold. Sigh. Things were just not going as smoothly as I had hoped.

A week later, we headed back to Valencia and then to Irema clinic for my second scan. My lining was still too thin, but other than its thickness, it was looking exactly as it should. They doubled my estrogen dose and postponed my transfer date. I went to the market the next day and shopped for food with a focus on thickening my lining: nuts, avocados, olives, apricots, sardines, chicken broth…My third scan, on December 31, showed my lining was almost there (7.7 mm, with the goal being at least 8 mm thick, so we set the transfer date for January 7. Things were looking up, except I got sick with another cold while still not 100% over the first one, and spent New Year’s Day sick in bed.

Gene left for SF two days later. That he had to go back before transfer day was hard for me. I sent him updates via WhatsApp along the way and tried to stay connected as much as possible (this was a major challenge for me and really got me down). I found an acupuncturist of zero reputation (someone working from home and with no reviews anywhere, which was not unusual in Valencia), but who was very sweet and kind and seemed to know what he was doing, and started seeing him to get my body as ready as possible for the transfer. We had three good quality embryos from our donor, and after much discussion and research, we decided to transfer just one this time, and save two for later for a second attempt or for a sibling later on.

The day before my transfer day, I walked about an hour to the beach, prayed, meditated, and communed with the sea, wishing for a positive outcome the next day. The next day, I found out the embryo we were going to transfer was classified as an A-quality embryo, and my lining was just fine. Transfer was quick and painless, with an all-women team. I went to get fertility acupuncture next to seal the deal, and the next morning, I flew back to San Francisco hopeful, ready for this to finally work.

It didn’t.

But it wasn’t even that simple. The first blood test, my levels came back really low: technically pregnant, but disconcerting if I were indeed pregnant. I was to go back 48 hours later to see if my levels doubled as they were supposed to; we held onto the sliver of hope. But no. Negative. I couldn’t feel the sadness at first — Gene had just started a new job that day after a long stretch of unemployment, so we were celebrating and grateful. Then, a couple of days later, the emotions hit. I felt distant, quiet, impatient...and in need of a new tattoo.

And that’s how the badass mermaid/fertility design tattoos were born.

Fast forward to the summer. After a brief visit to Israel for my grandmother’s 90th birthday, and a week in Istanbul next, I flew back to visit Irema clinic in Spain for the transfer of remaining embryos.

In the meantime, our awesome patient coordinator Lauren had quit her job (some internal drama, which made it sound like she made the absolute right choice). I only found out when I contacted her in preparation for the summer’s transfer to find out what our next steps should be, and had someone named Sergio respond to my text instead of Lauren. He was terrible at communication and not half as knowledgeable as Lauren. It was a very frustrating period, but we had no choice since we still had embryos at the clinic.

July 3, 2019: transfer day! We had decided to transfer both of the remaining embryos this time. We really wanted twins, and if only one took, that was fine, too. We’d figure out what to do about a sibling later. I wasn’t sick this time. I had been upgraded to business class last minute for no apparent reason on my flight over. My lining was where it was supposed to be from the start, and we had two embryos this time. Everything was going smoothly. My sister Rina joined me at the end of my stay in Valencia to help me with my bags, and we went to Barcelona together for my two week wait. All was well; we were joyful and filled with hope.

Because the transfer day happened earlier than I expected compared to our last experience, I had more days in Spain post-transfer than I had anticipated. This meant that I would still be in Spain when I got my blood work results back. I decided I would not delay the wait. I had my blood test done, then went to the beach with Rina. I didn’t swim, just in case I was positive and had to avoid getting an infection. I told G to let me know when he got home from work so I could look at the test result with him on the phone and we could get the news together.

Finally, close to 2 am in Barcelona, with G on the phone, I finally took a look.

Negative.

It was an awful Whatsapp chat. This, we had been convinced, would be the successful one, and it wasn’t. We just sat there, each in our feelings, not sharing them. I felt devastated and alone. Hurt. Mad. Heartbroken. Isolated.

Hours later, when Rina woke up on the morning of her flight back to Istanbul, I told her the news through tears. She said she didn’t want to leave me behind like this; I said I would be fine, and that there wasn’t anything she or anyone could do. I just needed to grieve, and her being there with me or not wouldn’t change anything. Besides, why pay extra money to hang out longer with a depressed sister who doesn’t feel like doing anything except staying in bed crying? Rina went back to her room, made a phone call, and came back to tell me she was staying three more days and that was that. She left to give me some space and to get herself some coffee, and returned a little while later with a bubble wand for me (I am about to cry just thinking about it now.) I got up, blew some bubbles from the balcony of my room towards passersby below. Bubbles have always made me smile. And to my surprise, even under these circumstances they still did.

I got my period a few days later—a few days after Rina had returned to Istanbul and a few days before my own trip back home. That week after the test results and before my flight back to SF, back to Gene was the longest week ever. I tried to make the most of it by finally enjoying all the foods (including ice cream) and alcohol I had been denying myself in Barcelona due to my fertility-friendly diet.

And then, back home, it felt like the longest time ever until I stopped grieving. What finally helped me find a sense of inner calm was to start researching next steps. I started researching clinics in Spain all over again, making phone calls, having Skype chats at all hours of the night (due to the 9-hour time difference), exchanging numerous emails with a number of clinics and their former patients…

Eventually, after I did all that research and laid out everything on a spread sheet, we settled on a clinic in Barcelona and decided to gamble on their birth guarantee/shared risk program. What that means: instead of paying for one cycle (about $9K), you pay a flat fee (about $20K), which gets you three cycles with three different donors and a healthy baby at the end of those, OR all your money back. So the clinic is taking a risk in that they could lose $20K if you don’t have a successful birth by the end. And you take a risk by paying $20K instead of $9K because if the first cycle works, that’s $11K down the drain. We decided it was worth it since I’d had so many failed cycles, including two donor egg transfers thus far. And we figured the clinic would be taking especially good care of us because it would be in their best interest for us to have a successful cycle as soon as possible. Next challenge: figure out how to finance all this. After more research, more emails and more chats with people in various Facebook groups, we settled on a plan and decided to go for it.

December cycles hadn’t been kind to me. I’d had a December cycle with my own eggs in Turkey a few years back, which we had to cancel when my body just didn’t respond to the fertility meds. Our first donor egg transfer in Spain had also failed and was the one cycle when my lining took its time getting to the minimal acceptable thickness for the embryo transfer. Knowing cold weather is not my body’s friend, I was hesitant to start the new cycle with a new clinic in December, but I was also not getting any younger, so there was no time to waste. It was back to Barcelona in December 2019, and this time, Barcelona was the location of the clinic and our only destination, not a short trip between clinic visits in another visit. Everything would be much simpler.

Clarity sure felt good, and knowing what our plan was for up to three cycles (which could span the period of the next two years) was a huge relief to me. I felt so much lighter. I felt hopeful and confident again.

December 2019-January 2020.

Barcelona.

Let’s do this.

To be continued.

[glimmerkeith]

here is a small snippet of potential romcom au sequel. that is all.

“Well, I can’t thank you both enough for coming...getting another year older is better with good friends, yes?”

“Good drinks usually help too,” John quipped, but he meant it well enough--and certainly, plenty of that had flowed tonight. He hadn’t honestly expected otherwise, and was now feeling a pleasant buzz to accompany that.

Klaus cast him a sideways look at that. “Do you...need to spend the night?”

“John’s a shit driver even when he’s sober,” Ringo chuckled from his other side. “Nah, it’s Paul that drove you both here, right?”

Ringo’s assessment of John’s driving capabilities was painfully accurate, and it was definitely the more responsible driver of the two who’d brought them here tonight. Paul was now talking with Maureen, Ringo’s wife, as she buckled her son into his carseat. In the gathering twilight, the violet light shone on the matching highlights Mo had recently applied to her hair as she chattered away to her companion.

Zak wasn’t even two years old, but the good-tempered little chap had slumbered most of the birthday gathering away….either that or being passed from one cooing, adoring party guest to the next, and Paul was certainly one of them.

But now, the small party of guests who had gotten together for Klaus’ birthday had gone, leaving just the group of them. George had excused himself a bit earlier to go check on how his plants were coming along in the greenhouse, the hulking shape of which could be seen on the other side of the vast (though mostly barren) garden that stood just outside his and Klaus’ house.

He’d owned the property and his own nursery for a year now, but had been so busy grubbing around outside that the interior of the actual house was by and large left to his artistically-minded boyfriend, who had taken up the challenge of turning what had been a frankly dumpy little cottage into something much brighter and sleeker.

“The place looks like it should be in a magazine,” Ringo had proclaimed upon first seeing the updated interior, and George had given a little shrug.

“It’s on account that he’s a Taurus,” He’d said, as if that explained everything--but there was a degree of pride in his voice too. John had been so impressed that he’d eventually commissioned Klaus to help him with a project of his own, the grand opening of which was mere days away now.

In any case, the nursery itself wasn’t too far of a drive from London, but just enough that the lush green hills and trees of the nearby forest made it seem like almost a different world completely. George looked the happiest John had probably ever seen him these days.

And it had been a happy two years of his own as well, he thought now, gaze lingering on Paul a moment when Ringo made the crack about his driving. Sometimes, it was still a little hard to believe. “Yeah, uh...only one of us has a spotless driving record here. It’s not me.”

George came shuffling up from the greenhouse then, having earlier changed into his gardening Crocs, a holey T-shirt, and muddy jeans to do his mucking around--honestly, he looked a fright, but Klaus’ whole face lit up when he came near. “How are things, love?”

“They’re looking good.” George’s gaze swiveled back over to John then. “Hey, so remind me again when the bookstore’s re-opening is?”

“This Thursday, ten sharp. And you all are on the very exclusive VIP list, so I’d better see you there. Or you’re getting your eyes poked out.”

George gave him his familiar craggy grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They all bade their goodbyes then, and John climbed into the passenger seat of Paul’s car. They weren’t long on the road before he reached his hand out, and Paul took it in his.

“George is coming on Thursday, then?”

“Yeah, he is. Him and...well, just about everyone else I know, I guess.”

“It’s a big deal, John. Your new premises and all...you’ve even got a bloody cafe in the new place. You know it’s the real deal then.”

He was teasing, but in truth, installing a coffee bar in his new bookshop had been a moment of immense pride for John. Just how he had managed to get from the tiny, one-floor studio he’d once had for his bookshop to real, proper lodgings was still a subject of great pride and gratitude.

Raising the funds for it had been by and large his old assistant Cynthia Powell’s doing. When she got her art degree, she’d soon moved onto doing design for a local magazine, and she’d arranged for John to give an interview about owning one’s own business in Soho. It had done surprisingly good numbers, and business had picked up to the point where John actually had to hire some real staff members--and then, eventually, completely relocate to bigger and better premises.

And Paul had been there for him every step of the way. Every time he had another fight with the building contractors, or couldn’t figure out just how he was going to pay the light bill, and not to mention relocating into a new flat of his own to be closer to the new shop...just all of it. He had his friends, of course, but John couldn’t remember a time when another person had been so supportive of him. Not overly critical, as Aunt Mimi (and, bless his soul, George too) could be, or wishy-washy like Ringo. Just himself.

“I can’t wait for you to see the final thing,” He told him now with a grin. Though Paul had helped with arranging a lot of the bookshelves and painting the walls, John had deliberately kept him out of the place during the past few weeks as the final touches all came together. When he stepped into the bookshop on Thursday for the opening, it would be a surprise for him too.

“I still don’t know why you had to keep me in the dark for it,” Paul chided him. “I saw the couches you were ordering online, y’know. I would have helped move them in.”

“It’s so it’s a surprise!” John insisted. “You know, like how it’s bad luck or something for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the big day--”

“Oh?” Paul arched a thin eyebrow, and John couldn’t help but flush a bit.

“OK, that’s just one--and kind of dumb--example. You know, I...I just want…” He trailed off for a moment, looking at the countryside speeding out the window nearby, as he forced his tongue to untangle and tell the truth. “I want you to be proud. Is all.”

Paul’s hand intertwined with his tightened a little, and he briefly stole a glance over at him. “Oh, John...I am. Believe me, I am. I know how much this means to you.”

John lifted their hands up and pressed a brief kiss to Paul’s. He knew that too, could tell that Paul was still happy to be with him...but every so often, that niggling doubt would worm into his head that it was only a matter of time before things went the same way as Stu. And this was more than that, deeper than that, if this wasn’t built to last than John wouldn’t be able to stand it.

The past (and not just with his relationship with Stu) had made him warier than he’d ever wanted to be. But without that same past, he might not be sitting here now, hand in hand with the best thing that had ever walked into his life. 

As he had taken his bookshop and made it grow, nurtured it until it flourished like a flower in one of George’s gardens, he had to keep doing the same with other parts of his life too. Which was why he had deliberately set aside a portion of the money he’d made selling the old shop. 

Just in case, he thought, he had to buy something that cost a little more. He was not done building his life yet.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: An Internal Affair - Chapter 1 (Ao3 link)

Fandom: The Flash Pairing: Leonard Snart/Barry Allen

Summary: Leonard Snart, the CCPD Captain of Internal Affairs, is known as Captain Cold for a very good reason: He hates corrupt cops with a merciless vengeance, and once you're on his list, you're in serious trouble.

His next target?

A CCPD lab tech named Barry Allen who's developed a suspicious habit of disappearing at random intervals.

A/N: This first chapter (slightly updated) was originally a prompt by @litrapod​ that I filled for Coldflash Week, but it's now a novel. I'm hoping to post updates twice a week - current plan is Tuesdays and Fridays, but we'll see what groove I settle into.

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

"Forgive me if I don't get up to say hello," Len drawls as Captain Singh walks into his office. He leans back in his office chair and gestures vaguely towards one of the seats, because if he doesn’t Singh will take one anyway.

Singh smiles tightly. He’s trying to be nice, but it’s hard for him. He takes a seat and makes an effort to make the smile more appropriate for the nice, friendly chat that they’re not actually going to have. "Of course not," he said, nodding at Len's injured side like he knows something.

He knows nothing.

Oh, it's common knowledge by now that Leonard Snart, one of the CCPD's finest undercover agents, recruited into the joint task force with the FBI, had been grounded at last when information about his identity had slipped out to such a degree that those who had worked with him in the criminal underworld had turned on him.

Everyone knows, also, that Leonard Snart took a bullet to the gut and another to the thigh and that he's still healing from them, but that he refused time off and insisted on coming back to work – even accepting a position that was largely a desk job to do so.

Everyone knows, last but certainly not least, that Leonard Snart is a hell of a lot smarter than he seems, because his humble acceptance of a desk job (to keep busy, he said, with a straight face and a bowed head) that was designed to keep him out of trouble was in fact just another stratagem, because it got Leonard Snart the job he's been angling to get for who knows how long.

Internal Affairs.

Head of Internal Affairs.

Leonard Snart's time spent underground – over a decade at least, and possibly two – gathering invaluable information on the criminal world had been rewarded with a promotion and an assignment to a seat that most cops reviled.

That wasn't an issue for Leonard Snart, as the department soon discovered, because he hated most cops just as much in return.

Abusive father that used to be a cop, the whispers said – they'd always known that, of course, but no one had put two and two together until Leonard Snart had been made a Captain and spent his first month on the job systematically destroying men's careers with an icy smile that never wavered.

Captain Cold, they called him – sneers and mockery at first, but as he took down one untouchable after another, men and women who were infamously corrupt but (it had been believed) unable to be removed, the term changed to one of fear and respect.

Mostly fear. Not a little bit of hatred, too, for the man who seemed to have nothing to hide and nothing to lose and whose entire existence, now, seemed wrapped around a vendetta aimed not at the criminals but at the CCPD who enabled them.

It's just as Len said: they know nothing.

Oh, it's all true, all of it, all the rumors, everything from his piece of shit of an ex-cop dad to his time undercover to his manipulation of the system to get the position and power he wanted. It's the details that matter most.

He hadn't just been shot when some asshole at the CCPD let slip who he was, leading eventually to someone telling the Families about him. He'd been kidnapped. Tortured.

Sentenced to a slow and painful death, all alone in the dark.

And he would have died, too, if Mick Rory hadn't come to save him.

Mick Rory, arsonist, pyromaniac, thief, muscle, thug.

Mick Rory, committed criminal.

Mick Rory, Leonard Snart's best and maybe only goddamn friend in the whole wide world, who Len had lied to from day one and kept lying to through thick and thin. Who Len had used. For his friendship, for his strength, for his credibility in the criminal community, and he’d given him back nothing but lies.

Despite all of that, Mick came for him.

Mick fought through the assholes guarding the door and he shot the assholes who were torturing Len and he got Len out.

Mick got Len away from the Families, carried him in his arms while he was bleeding and crying like a child. He got Len to the hospital, to safety, even though he knew Len was a cop now, a pig like all the others.

Then, when the police assigned to guard Len's room arrived and kicked him out, he went home.

And at home…

The Families fire-bombed his house that night, knowing that his pyromania would keep him from saving himself. They were right. He survived only due to a fluke, a part of the building falling fast enough to extinguish the fire faster than expected.

Mick Rory now lies in a hospital bed in a very high end burn clinic in Keystone City as the doctors try to salvage what they can, nearly two-thirds of his body burned.

Len never even had a chance to thank him.

Lewis Snart might've been the one that taught Len what a corrupt cop looked like, but it was what the cops did to Mick Rory that makes Len hate them.

"Can I help you?" Len says to Captain Singh, head of the midtown precinct, who seems to have lost the ability to speak since entering the room.

"I want to discuss the newest case you're working on," Singh finally says.

"Have you got intel for me?" Len asks, deliberately cruel. Cops hate a snitch as bad as any felon, and the suggestion that Singh's here to tell tales gets the flinch Len was looking for.

He doesn't actually have anything against Captain Singh personally – the guy's a good cop, believe it or not, with good detection skills and better management skills and unlike most of the lot of them, he's not completely in the Family pocket – but Singh's a believer in the blue line, cop solidarity über alles, and until he remembers that his loyalty should be to justice and truth before friendship, Len's not about to give him the benefit of the doubt.

That's why Singh's here, after all. He's not here to snitch.

He's here to ask Len to back off.

More fool he. Len never backs off.

(Len will admit, however, that he's a hypocrite: he's never had any problem valuing friends over laws – his first loyalties are to Lisa, tucked far away with her skates and the college he's paying for, and to Mick. But not at the expense of the corruption of the blue, the goddamn cops who are supposed to be protecting the helpless; that's not a crime against society, which Len could forgive, but a crime against his city, and Len will never forgive that.)

"No," Singh finally says. "Listen, I know this is a long shot –"

"Who?"

"I – what?"

"Who?" Len repeats. "Who do you want me to back off of?"

Singh looks suspicious; good for him. He's not an idiot: he knows a request to back off will only make Len more suspicious.

"I don't want you to back off, exactly," he says. "More – I don't want you wasting your time."

Len arches his eyebrows and waits.

Singh's an experienced cop, veteran of a thousand interrogations and interview rooms, and he knows how silence can be wielded as a weapon.

It's just that Len's better at it, that's all.

"Barry Allen," Singh says, giving up the name. "I don't know how he got on your list –"

"He's never here but his work always gets done," Len says dryly.

"He's efficient –"

"He's always arriving late, looking like he's been busy somewhere else."

"He's always had an issue with –"

"He disappears at odd times, say, around the same time something is going down."

"There's always something going down –"

"He knows more about crime scenes than he should upon first glance."

"So he's good at his job –"

"He talks about active cases with people outside the precinct."

"We all do to some degree –"

"Brand new set of friends."

"Not exactly a crime –"

"And all of that following nine months disappearance –"

"On medical leave!" Singh bursts out, a vein starting to pulse in his forehead. "He was in a coma!"

"Yes," Len drawls, stretching the word out. "He was, wasn't he? Then he got himself transferred out of the hospital into a private facility – a private facility run by Harrison Wells, aka the genius behind the Accelerator explosion that supposedly caused Allen's little 'accident' – and what do you know? Not only does that place not have proper records as far as I can tell, it appears that, both before and after the explosion, they have only ever had one patient."

Singh is gaping at him.

"Now, I don't know about you," Len says, tilting his head to the side in his most irritating, exaggerated thoughtful way. "But when you put all that together with the fact that a lot of these bad habits are newly developed following that so-called coma of his – except for the punctuality, of course, that's long-standing – you get a very interesting picture. One I intend to look at a bit more closely."

"Goddamnit, Cold, he was hit by lightning," Singh says through gritted teeth. "Some changes are to be expected. It's a miracle he even got that much of him back –"

"Yeah, about that," Len says and now his teeth are bared. "Funny how his job was still open after nine months."

Singh straightens up like he's just been shocked by lightning himself.

"Funny, too, how there weren't any concerns regarding his mental state after being hit by lightning," Len continues. "But you know what's the most funny of all?"

Singh is silent.

It's okay, Len wasn't asking that expecting an answer.

Len leans forward. "What I find the most funny, Captain Singh," he says, as conversationally as he can, "is that he says that he was in a coma for nine months, right? Nine months. It's been a little over nine months since the explosion. Nine months, and he's back to work in a week? No bedsores, no muscle atrophy, no deterioration, no physical therapy, no occupational therapy – oh, no, our Mr. Allen apparently leaped out of his hospital bed and went for a goddamn run around Central City, fresh as a daisy. And, in the process, either during the coma or during that run –"

Len flips open the folder on his desk, revealing two photographs. One is Allen before his mysterious nine-month absence; one is after. He's shirtless in both, because Len's contacts sometimes like to snag shirtless pics for him ever since they figured out he was pansexual – something that usually pisses him off, except he wouldn't have figured out the weirdest part of this whole Allen thing if they hadn't so he supposes he has to forgive them.

"– the man picks up a set of abs," Len concludes, his voice flat. "Now, Singh, I know you've given up ogling other people in your marriage vows, but tell me, in view of your past experience in this field, does one generally get that sort of body development lying in a hospital bed?!"

That last bit was said with a full on snarl.

Okay, so Len's a bit touchy on the whole hospital subject.

Singh's shoulders slump down, an acknowledgment that he doesn't have the answers Len's looking for and that there is no way that Len's dropping this investigation – either into Allen, or, if that pans out, into Singh for enabling him.

And because Len's investigations are typically confidential among the Captain rank at this early stage, if Allen hears so much as a whisper on the subject before Len's ready, Len will know exactly who to blame.

Len smiles at him. The smile has teeth.

"Good talk, Singh," he says encouragingly. "Have a nice day, why don't you?"

Singh's lips are pressed together until they're very nearly bloodless with rage, but he's smart enough not to say anything. He knows how dangerous Len is.

He walks out with his shoulders squared, much like someone who wants to punch someone and is very nearly there, but barely refraining.

Len dials a number on his desk before grabbing his crutch and limping heavily over to the door that Singh rather rudely left open, particularly given that he knows that Len prefers a closed door and has difficulty walking to close it.

"Chum in the water, sir?" his assistant asks dryly. Technically, Len ought to have a whole team, and he does, but he's spread the best of them out widely among the precincts of the sprawling Central City. This isn't really 'home base' for him, just an office he can use for the time being – and one at which he’s newly arrived, no less, after he was quietly encouraged to move until the looks of his fellow policemen became a touch less murderous – but that's fine. As long as he can do his job, he's fine. And he can do his job here with just him and his assistant.

(Why did he never consider investing in a personal assistant when he was a criminal? They're so useful. He would've saved himself so much angst. His current assistant, Danvers, is the best.)

"Not him," Len tells Danvers with a faint grin. "That was just a friendly chat. Come in and take some dictation, will you?"

"You make that sound so awful," she observes. "I should sue for sexual harassment."

"If you're getting sexually harassed, then I'm in a hostile work environment."

"Boss," Danvers says, suppressing a grin. "You are a hostile work environment."

"Kara Danvers," Len groans. "Just get your ass in here already."

She laughs and gets her ass in there with her speed-typing box – she used to be a court reporter before Len snagged her, and she's amazing – just in time for the open phone line Len dialed to start picking up things on the other side.

The other side being the desk immediately adjacent to one Detective Joe West's, who has the dubious honor of being Singh's confidant, Allen's mentor (possibly father?), and one of the poor souls on Len's list, given the remarkable speed by which the open investigation of his recent officer-involved shooting (West being the officer) got resolved.

Someone should really do something about the security in this place. Len plans on giving them a list before he leaves - but only after he's done exploiting it.

"- don't let Cold get to you, chief," West is saying. "He's got nothing on you."

"That isn't the issue," Singh replies with a sigh. "I don't want him here at all. Investigating my people -"

"When he could be doing something useful with his time," West agrees. "Goddamn parasite."

"Joe," Singh says, mildly censorious. "He's your superior officer."

West snorts. "By cutting in line - yeah, yeah, I'll back off. He did amazing work with the Families, not just here, but everywhere, I'll give him that much. But I don't have to appreciate the fact that the guy's working out his childhood trauma on us."

"Joe!" Singh exclaims. "That's uncalled for."

"Oh, come off it," West says with a laugh. "We all know the story - dad was a bad cop and a mean drunk that liked to knock his kids around. And now the - I mean, our very respectable visiting Captain Cold, he's got a vendetta against the boys in blue instead of the guys that really need to be taken off the streets."

"If a cop's done something wrong, they need to be taken off the streets too, Joe," Singh says. "That's what Internal Affairs does. You can't hold it against Cold - I mean, Snart - that he's good at his job."

"Even you call him Cold," West points out. "And that's saying something."

"No, Joe, it isn't," Singh replies, sighing. He sounds tired. If he was tired, he shouldn't have tried to go up against Len. "I'm pretty sure I just called him it to his face, and that's still not saying anything. The man really is good at his job, and he's utterly fearless. We need someone like him rooting out corruption, we really do. But sometimes he goes barking up the wrong damn tree -"

"Someone in our precinct?" West asks, his tone lighting up with interest.

"That's confidential," Singh snaps, clearly remembering himself. "Damnit, Joe, he'll have my job if you go around blabbing."

"My lips are sealed," West promises, but though he tries to raise the subject of Len a few more times, Singh is having none of it and firmly steers the conversation onto their current investigation.

After listening for a little longer, Len nods to himself and hangs up the line.

"...did he really call you Captain Cold to your face?" Danvers asks, her lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

"Cold, anyway," Len says, allowing himself to smirk as she starts giggling. "I think I made him angry."

"Boss," she says, lifting her glasses and wiping the tears of laughter out of her eyes. "You make everyone angry. It's practically your hobby."

Len grins. She’s not wrong.

But the grin slowly fades as he thinks about the task he’s set for himself.

He’s engineered a few meetings between himself and Allen – usually he sets up the first meet at one of the local Jitters, where he can ‘accidentally’ stumble with his (annoyingly still-necessary) crutch to get people’s attention, and Allen’s no different.

Well, he was a bit oblivious but it worked eventually. Len took the precaution of telling the barista that he was trying to get Allen’s attention, which definitely helped cover his ass stumbling so many times – Kendra thought he was hilarious and adorable and definitely hinted strongly to Allen to pay attention.

Since then, they’ve been sitting together whenever their coffee runs ‘coincidentally’ match up.

That’s probably how Singh realized that Len was onto Allen’s case, putting the seating and Len’s high-level sealed reports together.

The problem, though, is that Allen is…frustrating.

“Thinking about your newest boytoy again?” Danvers asks.

She only looks innocent.

“Target,” Len corrects. “Not boytoy.”

“You’re basically a cat, boss,” she says. “You play with your food and your toys and your targets all the same way.”

“Basically a cat,” Len says, rolling his eyes. “This is what I get, is it? I employ you, you know.”

It’d taken literally months to break Danvers of her annoying habit of being excessively deferential, so she knows he doesn’t mean it.

Her smirk makes that very clear.

“You didn’t answer the question,” she points out.

“Because you phrased it in a stupid way,” Len grumbles. “But yeah, I was thinking about Allen.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

“Well, to start off, he’s extremely shady,” Len says. “He’s got to have some secret way in and out of Jitters, because I have literally blinked and he’s slipped out somehow. He’s always whispering about stuff with those new scientist friends of his from STAR Labs, and they’re almost always talking about the latest disaster in town, and that’s usually followed immediately by Allen disappearing for a bit.”

“That doesn’t seem like a problem,” Danvers says. “That sounds like a good lead.”

Len makes a face.

“No?”

“He’s nice,” Len complains. “I see why everyone here likes him; he’s friendly and acts all well-meaning and he helped an old lady cross the road last week –”

“Oh, I see,” Danvers says, grinning. “You think he’s hot.”

“Of course he’s hot,” Len says. “Lots of people are hot; I’m pansexual. That doesn’t usually distract me from doing my job. Besides, he’s half my age.”

“You exaggerate,” she says. “But putting that aside, you are doing your job, because your job is figuring out if someone is up to something. If even you’re getting good vibes off Allen, then maybe, just maybe, this one time, a cigar is actually just a cigar.”

Len blinks at her.

“Maybe he’s clean,” she clarifies.

Len snorts. “He disappears for nine months, claims he was in a coma, and comes back in the best shape of his life,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “At the minimum that’s going to involve some sort of medical insurance fraud, or possibly unemployment fraud. Plus, by all accounts the guy seems to have a real knack for avoiding confrontation by being a compulsive liar.”

“But?”

“His lab work is good,” Len admits. “I haven’t seen any patterns of him altering evidence in favor of any given party, and the lab boys over at the Feds say the reports are basically done right, though they can’t quite get the centrifuge data to match up.”

“A real enigma, then,” Danvers says. “Your favorite.”

“Danvers.”

“Don’t you Danvers me,” she says, smirking at him. “You should go ask him out on a date.”

“I can’t date a target.”

“Go ask him out for a totally platonic dinner, then,” she says. “Do it when you know something’s about to go down – and don’t think I don’t know that just because you’ve been burned doesn’t mean your connections in the underworld are totally gone. That way you can eliminate each possible affiliation.”

“First off, that’s entrapment,” Len says. “Second, there are so many Families alone that we’d have to go on a date every day for a year for that to work. Third, he'd twig onto what I’m doing and deliberately not go to something he’s affiliated with to throw me off the scent. And fourth, even if it wasn’t a bad idea, it’s not working. There’s no pattern to any of his disappearances!”

Danvers is sniggering.

Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted how often he’s been meeting up with Allen.

He glares at her balefully.

“Give me your notes on his movements,” she orders, as if she was the boss. “I’ll get them cross-referenced with all the different types of city events I can find so you can do your pattern-spotting on the outside instead of the inside; if he’s going to some sort of dumb concert series or something, you wouldn’t want to waste your time. In the meantime, you have a date.”

“I’m not seeing Allen again until tomorrow,” Len objects automatically.

Danvers smirks at him like he’s admitted something. “Of course not,” she says. “But it’s an MR day.”

Len nods, glad that she reminded him. How hard it is to remember what day is which is one of the downsides of deliberately randomizing his visits to the clinic in Keystone where Mick is so that no one can track him when he goes there. He’d prefer to go on a regular schedule – Len’s always liked timing things – but it’s his duty to keep Mick safe. Or at least, it’s the very least he can do, after all Mick’s done for him.

If Len was a good man, he wouldn’t go at all. He’d leave Mick alone. He wouldn’t burden him with Len’s baggage and Len’s job and Len’s everything, not to mention the fact that Len’s enemies are even more numerous now than they were when he and Mick were partners.

The Families want Len’s head on a plate. Many of his old contacts in the underworld know he’s a cop now and hate him for it. The corrupt cops that fear him are gunning for him. Even the clean cops hate him for violating their precious boys-in-blue code.

Len would be better off being friends with no one at all, and if he was a good man, he would refrain.

But he’s not a good man.

“I’ll go catch a ride,” he says. “Is my pick-up here?”

Danvers wrinkles her nose. “Boss –”

“Oh, good, then Charlie is here.”

“I hate that guy,” she whines. “I don’t care if he’s good at losing people, he’s going to kidnap you and eat you one of these days.”

“You exaggerate,” Len says, shaking his head. “I’ve known Charlie for years –”

“He has priors for cannibalism and attempted cannibalism,” Danvers hisses. “Literal cannibalism.”

“Technically,” Len drawls, “he only has priors for defacing a corpse. Cannibalism isn’t a legal crime, and no one proved he was involved with any killing –”

“If you don’t ring me the second you get to the clinic, I’m going to hunt you down,” Danvers threatens. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Who exactly is the boss here?”

“You, sir,” she says. “Now go and do what I told you to do.”

Len rolls his eyes, but gets up, wincing. His leg and side are really pulling on him today. He uses Mick’s clinic to meet his physical and occupational therapist anyway, which is a good cover for going to visit Mick, but going to PT/OT with an already sore leg is going to suck.

“And when you’re done with that, we can talk about you dating a target,” Danvers adds just as he gets to the door. “It’s actually not against the rules until there’s an official inquiry open.”

“No, Danvers.”

“I’ll book you a table for two at a nice restaurant for Friday,” she says. “It’ll have a pre-paid deposit and you’ll have no choice but to ask him to go or you’ll waste the money.”

“A, you’re abusing your access to my credit card,” Len says. “B, I could always go with someone else, did you think of that?”

“Boss,” Danvers says pityingly. “Mick can’t go, your sister’s out of town, I’m busy that night, and you have no other friends.”

…damnit.

“Have fun!”

“Mick wouldn’t bitch me out like this,” Len grumbles.

“I’ve been keeping him up to date on your little investigation via secure-line VPN groupchat,” Danvers says cheerfully. “You wanna bet?”

Len flips her off and limps off towards the waiting car.

Mick would totally mock him over this whole Allen thing.

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #85

UPDATE 85: Miasma is a Good Word

Last time the heroes made their bomb attack, courtesy of everything they confiscated from Bakuda, and apparently they got rid of Crawler and Mannequin! That’s a feat! Since there are like three Slaughterhouse Nine members left, Jack may be upset, so they’re all bracing for retaliation. Let’s continue.

I set Atlas down on the ground and hopped off.  “Whatever the fuck they just dropped on the city, it apparently took out Crawler and Mannequin.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Tattletale said.

Pretty good philosophy in a world where some people have powers. I have hopes Mannequin and Crawler were defeated and died in a blast of Bakuda’s bombs, but I sure won’t take it for granted until they’re described. It won’t be a guarantee, but it sure will go a long way when it’s about ascertaining someone’s life or death status in a story like this one!

What Skitter did may have weakened the Siberian’s true body, and maybe even killed him, if Bonesaw wasn’t able to counter the poison in time. It’s a small chance, admittedly, but it exists. Not going to place any high hopes on that, though. Bonesaw works quickly, and she also has all those mechanical spiders. Maybe she could do something.

Skitter informs everyone of everything that happened, including telling them Legend told her to scram so she wouldn’t get in the way, good intentions or not.

“And this threat?  Do we know what it is?  Some zombie apocalypse?”  Regent asked.

“No.” Tattletale shook her head.  “She sees herself as an artist.  She’s going to want to do something that catches us off guard, something that scares us in a way that simple horror movie monsters don’t.”

Pretty hard to say. A parahuman of the caliber of Bonesaw could do pretty much anything she wanted. There are countless possibilities. I would be surprised if it’s not fatal, though. Artist or not, she’s a mass murderer by definition, and they threatened the entirety of Brockton Bay. Anything they have planned must be able to kill everyone, or at the very least cause widespread sickness that can’t be cured.

Much to Regent’s...subdued amusement, I guess? – I sure bet he’s amused – Sundancer admits Bonesaw scares her. Pretty natural reaction, yeah.

“You two do raise a point, though,” Tattletale cut in.  “Capes are powerful.  If she wanted to scare the locals, she’s done that.  I’d be willing to bet the ace she has up her sleeve is going to be more aimed at scaring people like us, like Legend.  She wants to terrorize the strongest, target people who everyone looks up to and fears.”

I don’t know, the obliteration and/or extermination of an entire city’s pretty scary even for the strongest people. There are heroes, and then there’s people like Skitter who are empathic even though they’re a villain, and if Bonesaw plays her cards right, then she’ll strike fear into the hearts of villains, making them feel like she’s on a different tier than them. I’m expecting things to get real ugly around here.

In the distance I think Legend is still fighting the Siberian or something. Over here, they hope they won’t have to worry about Bonesaw’s plot, but I think it’s guaranteed it’ll happen. It has been hyped so much so far it’d be rather disappointing if it didn’t. Mr. Wildbow wouldn’t let the readers down!

I’m pretty sure everyone who fights tinkers hates them too, Skitter. I bet even tinkers hate other tinkers.

Oh, right, it was supposed to be something that’d spread through water, right? If so, then I suppose there must be a reason for it to have to be through water instead of, say, air. I was about to consider this further, but then Grue stopped my train of thought when he wants Tattletale about the dangers of tunnel vision and, well, he’s right. I’m supposing too many things, yes? And basing too much on Tattletale’s assumptions. I should sit down and keep reading, see where things go from here. Besides, it’s not like they can counter whatever will happen. Even if they find Panacea and she agrees to help them for the greater good, she’s one person. By the time she’s able to do something, whatever Bonesaw made may have caused too much damage around already.

There it comes. That was fast!

The water was turning crimson.  Where it was only one or two inches deep above the pavement, it turned a dark red that resembled blood.  That alone might have been spooky enough, but it was spreading over hundreds of feet in a matter of seconds, and there was a thin red mist rising in its wake.

She earns points for style. That’s a chilling image, and it’s unmistakably her work. Way to go, Bonesaw! And if it’s spreading that fast, then it’s pretty much unstoppable. The effects of whatever this is must be already felt by the general population. Is it even possible to get away from it? If a mist is rising from it, then there’s an airborne component, and that’s going to be harder to get away from.

The theory as to why it’s spreading so fast is that Bonesaw prepared things beforehand, my bet is that it was right when the rules of the game were established. Just to have it ready in case it was necessary, and now here it is in action.

Everyone’s reactions it to seek high ground and run away. Skitter gets on her beetle and flies, the others get on dogs, and Sundancer evaporates the water – something Bonesaw was prepared for, because the steam from the evaporated water takes the same qualities than the water itself. It’s matter of time before someone in the group is afflicted by whatever this is.

There we go, it almost happens. They’re barely saved on the way up thanks to Skitter forming a barrier with her insects. It’s interesting that there’s nothing saying the insects were affected. I’m sure if they were, Skitter would have noticed immediately, and they’d know what’s going on. It’s not some sort of poison or disorienting substance, I guess...either that or this has to be carried through water and the mist isn’t as effective. Who knows.

To get themselves on a higher spot, Tattletale indicates a taller building and Skitter flies over there, Trickster proceeds to swap her with someone, and this process is repeated a few times until Trickster and one of the dogs are left behind. The mist is creeping near him.

He’s safe, lucky guy. All around them, the miasma – that’s a good word – floats all over the buildings around. It’s pervasive, it’s covering everything, and is only matter of time before it rises up to the building they’re in right now. As I see it, the only hope anyone has is to get in an airtight place. Not many of those lying around, I bet.

“Probably something else.  Or it’s poison, but it’s designed to do something besides kill us.  How are the others doing?”

It’s a bit hard to know what other effect it could have besides killing – supposing it is designed to kill, I mean. My mind is blank. My thought is that it’d be some sort of control thing, but...is that the Slaughterhouse Nine’s style? I don’t know, it seemed to me they like to do things by themselves. They wouldn’t control others to make them kill each other, that’s what I think.

Looks like we’ll find out the effects sooner or later. Grue, Heckpuppy, Ballistic and one of the dogs are inside a glass dome they got into, and it’s matter of time before the miasma gets in there. Uh-oh, they’re doomed. Bad pun intended.

Since Grue and Heckpuppy are inevitably going to be affected pretty soon, Skitter wants to at least save Tattletale, even though Tattletale tells her to go and leave her behind, because in the end Skitter is much more versatile in action than Tattletale. She has bugs and also a gun, she’ll be able to fight Jack, Bonesaw and the Siberian’s real body. Well, yeah, that’s true. Whether she’ll be able to win is an entirely different matter. With a lot of luck and skill maybe, but still, pretty doubtful she will.

Once Skitter gets to the top of a taller building, she waits for Trickster to swap the cluster of bugs she’s forming in the shape of a person. They’re running out of time, the miasma is climbing up the sides of the building they’re on. The bugs are swapped, but instead of Tattletale, it’s Sundancer. Oh, Skitter isn’t going to like that at all.

At least she’s not blaming Sundancer for what undoubtedly was Trickster and Tattletale’s decision. In fact...

She shook her head, “They didn’t say anything.  They were both really quiet while you flew off, and then Tattletale said ‘It doesn’t look like her plan will work out.  Tell her I’m sorry.’  Trickster teleported me here before I could say anything or ask what she meant.”

If she says that then it must be for a reason. Tough pill to swallow, but yeah...maybe it’s for the better? Besides, Sundancer hits hard. When it’s about having a way to fight the Slaughterhouse Nine, she can pack quite a punch. I don’t think even them have anything to counter a miniature sun being launched at them, unless the Siberian’s projection protects them.

While they sit around, Sundancer takes the moment to develop some characterization. Neat!

“I hate being alone,” Sundancer said.  She settled into a sitting position.  “It’s like, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve actually been on my own. When I was little, I was always with my mom, or always in school, always in afterschool activities.  Ballet, violin, lyrical dance, voice lessons, acting lessons… never a moment to think for myself.  Even after I stopped all that, I was with my friends.  Always in a group.”

So she’s not comfortable being by herself...I don’t think it���s dependence, I think it’s more like she feels comfortable with people around her. Doesn’t seem to me like he particularly regards the other Travelers as lifelong friends or anything like that, but they’re a group and therefore she feels kind of okay with them. Not that much, though. Just like Skitter points out now, she has said she feels lonely, even among the Travelers. What brought all of them together in a team, again? I don’t think that has been explained so far, I hope it’ll be said at some point.

In a while Skitter will go fight the Slaughterhouse Nine, and Sundancer will be left behind, alone and with nothing to do other than wait for stuff to happen – the most likely possibility being the miasma reaching her, I’d say. Guess that means Skitter’s going alone. Oh well. Best of luck to her, I hope she won’t get grievous injuries this time.

The miasma reaches Tattletale and Trickster, but there’s no immediate reaction. Hm. Maybe it’s delayed? Or it’s something that cannot be seen. The second one seems more likely, I think.

To encourage herself and Sundancer, Skitter says humans are much stronger than you’d think, both physically and mentally. Everyone has the capacity to keep going despite mental or physical punishment, if their willpower is strong enough. That’s what the capes have done, that’s what the Slaughterhouse Nine has done. Sundancer doesn’t like what she’s hearing, so Skitter salvages her speech by saying it’s an almost pessimistic outlook. Hah! Well, maybe it is, but I believe her intention was to give herself and Sundancer encouragement, so she may have meant everything as something positive.

The conversation is cut short when Sundancer tells Skitter to go already, and after Skitter goes she gets underneath a tiny sun. I hope that keeps her kind of safe. Skitter flies towards where he had left Legend last update, and also takes a look at Tattletale and Trickster, who aren’t reacting at all. They don’t signal her to come back. Why would they do such a thing? Even if they’re okay, they sure wouldn’t risk putting their teammates at risk! Could be dangerous.

Another thought as to what the miasma could be: what if it’s a way for the Slaughterhose Nine to go unnoticed even in plain sight? Like what Imp does. That’d give them free reign to kill whoever they want around, and not even the parahumans would be able to stop them or know exactly where they are – well, most of them, I figure, but the Slaughterhouse Nine would think measures to get away with as much as they can. Could be that, yeah?

Skitter directs herself to the catalyst of the miasma, and evaluates the situation. She hopes the civilians got to higher ground, where there’s not that much flooding and therefore are a little safer from the miasma. It’s matter of time before it reaches that too, I bet.

Legend is still around! And he’s still firing lasers around, even though he’s in middle of the red fog. I take that as he hasn’t been affected by it yet – or it doesn’t impede someone from fighting. Skitter gets her bugs into the miasma to have an idea of what’s going on.

He wasn’t fighting the Nine. Legend was shooting at teammates.  He shouted something, but neither my ears nor my bugs were able to pick out the words.

Ah, of course he’s fighting his teammates. Effect of the miasma, I figure. It’s not a berserk state or rage brought by the fog – demonstrated by Trickster and Tattletale being civil around each other instead of tearing their throats off at the first chance, and also because Legend is pulling his punches. He’s not the only one affected, Weld’s keeping everybody away, and Vista gets herself in an unreachable spot.

Paranoia?

I don’t think it’s hallucinations...so paranoia seems like the right answer to me. Maybe they think their teammates are not to be trusted anymore. Does that mean if someone from the Slaughterhouse Nine stepped forth, they’d trust them? I wondeeeer...

Since Vista is the one least likely to kill her whether it’s on accident or on purpose, Skitter approaches her, and immediately gets a reaction.

She whirled on the spot to look at me, then swiftly began backing away.

I raised my hands to show her I meant no harm, “Hold on!  I’m safe!”

“That’s just what they would say!”  She retorted.

They as in the Slaughterhouse Nine, it seems. So even though the miasma, they know the Slaughterhouse Nine is a menace. These effects are limited only to paranoia, it seems...

Vista doesn’t listen, so Skitter moves to leave after Vista threatens her very clearly. She makes a bad move, though, movement Vista takes as a threat, and tries to hit her with asphalt, which in turn gets Legend’s attention. Legend’s lasers stun her, throwing her off the beetle, and she crashes against a rooftop in what surely would injure gravely anyone without armor or resilience like Skitter.

Not enough, Vista surrounds Skitter with a section of rooftop, entrapping her. Also, Skitter is right in middle of the miasma. Ah, time to find out about its effects firsthand!

Nothing in particular yet. Worth noting Vista is full of anger, but it doesn’t seem to be the effect of the miasma, because Skitter doesn’t feel anything like that despite, you know, actually being in danger, relatively.

I tried to think back to my prior experiences with her and found nothing.

What was her name?

Oh, she can’t remember Vista! I seeee...I think.

Skitter makes a few mental exercises to find out just how badly her brain is malfunctioning right now. She doesn’t seem to be suffering of brain damage or concussions. She can remember herself. She can remember her parents.

I tried to picture her expression.

Again, that gap, the chasm.  Nothing.

There it is! So this is the effect of the miasma. Looks like it makes everyone forget about other people, including the experiences they have lived with them. They know those people exist, they know who they are, but they can’t remember how they look, or their personalities, or anything else that makes a person a person. Rather insidious, hm! And also original. Not sure about the practical use of it, though.

I mean, the Slaughterhouse Nine undoubtedly have a reason for this, but I wonder what it could be. This is meant to be the penalty for breaking the rules and having such a sizable advantage. I’m not sure what use they’ll have from this...because everyone’s so paranoid even if someone from the Slaughterhouse Nine approached them, they’d still be attacked. In fact, it could be worse because of the paranoia.

There must be something I haven’t considered yet...but what could it be?

The miasma makes her unable to recognize Legend and Vista even though she was fighting them not too long ago. Legend knocks out Vista – ouch – and Skitter, not having any other option, asks for help.

If I didn’t have the benefit of being able to remember my actions over the past few minutes, it would have been impossible to say whether the two people here were allies or enemies.

That explains why Tattletale and Trickster weren’t fighting. They could still remember what was happening a few moments before the miasma affected them. That’s unfortunate, even if Skitter remembered them and went to seek their help, they won’t remember her anymore.

Sundancer’s worries about being alone struck me.  We were all alone, now.  Every single one of us.  From teams to individuals, everyone was fending for themselves because they couldn’t afford to trust the others.

And it would ruin us.

It would be impossible to mount any kind of defense against the Nine if we were fighting them as individuals.

Ah, there it is! That’s what I had missed! I see the logic, now I can see how this is dangerous and plays right into the Slaughterhouse Nine’s plans. Okay, I see how things are supposed to go, and I like this. Nice. Keep going! How are you going to counter this, Skitter? She’ll have to both overcome her amnesia and the fear she’ll feel towards other people.

Pleading for help to Legend actually makes him hesitate. He’s a hero, after all. He can’t just turn his back on someone asking for help, even if this could be a trap or something. He has to at least try to help.

Nevermind, he doesn’t. He just tell her to stay there, fights around for like ten minutes more, and then flies away. Thanks for nothing, Legend. Hah! But yeah, in all seriousness, Skitter thinks maybe the miasma’s making him less rational.

This wasn’t rational for him, it didn’t jibe with my knowledge of him.  That could mean there was something about the miasma that was making him irrational.

We’ll know for sure, if Skitter does something irrational too. It’s a possibility some component of it clouds people’s judgment and decisions, I guess, but we’ll know for sure only when it happens to Skitter.

Since Legend is gone and he sure won’t help her, Skitter has to help herself, wriggling out of the asphalt the best she can. It’s actually a long ordeal, there are several paragraphs about it. It’s all because of the armor she’s wearing underneath her costume. Oh well. There’s...well, there’s no immediate hurry. Even if she finds the Slaughterhouse Nine, she won’t know it’s them.

Several people have been knocked out, Skitter helps a couple so they don’t suffer ridiculous deaths such as drowning in a puddle. Along the way she finds a creature that may be one of Heckpuppy’s dogs, or could be Crawler. Thorny exterior...I don’t think I have ever read the dogs being described as having ‘a thorny exterior’. Skitter’s decision of not approaching may have been the right decision.

“Skitter!” a voice called out.

I stopped.

A blond girl, waving at me.

I drew my gun and leveled it at her.

The smile dropped from her face.  She brought both hands to her mouth as she shouted, “It’s me!  Tattletale!”

Aaaaah...hm. Doubts. I have many. I find a bit hard to believe Bonesaw wouldn’t take into account Tattletale’s power and make it so she can’t use that to identify the people she encounters. I’m not ruling out this could be Tattletale, but...I sure won’t think right from the start it’s her.

Tattletale informs everyone else is currently hiding, and Grue and her are walking around, presumably looking for her. Skitter feels at ease and actually talks with her, asking what this miasma is about. It’s not amnesia, it’s agnosia. They didn’t lose their memories; they just can’t use it. That’s different, because everything is still there.

What Bonesaw did may be incurable and terminal, and although Panacea could help, I doubt she will. She was already jumpy and didn’t want to cooperate, the miasma’s going to make her even worse. The next fifteen or so arcs will happen during the next few hours, can you believe that? Worm’s timeline and pacing are going to slow down like never before!

Maybe it’s because I’m suspicious of this all, but Tattletale sure sounds...hopeful. And cheerful. I still don’t like this at all.

Tattletale brings up the mad cow disease to compare to Bonesaw’s punishment, and it makes some sense. I can see how this miasma is fatal. I don’t think the mad cow disease had a cure – can’t check right now if I’m correct -- but since I doubt everyone in Brockton Bay, Skitter included, will die during the next few hours, there must be a cure for this.

“If we’re going to save everyone, we need Amy.  For that, we need to ask Cherish.”

Supposing this isn’t Tattletale and instead is, let’s say, Bonesaw, I’m not sure if the objective is to find Panacea or Cherish. I can imagine pretty good reasons to find any of them. Pretty doubtful Cherish would say anything without a deal, though. Looks like a pretty obvious roadblock to me.

Speaking of Cherish, I remembered Regent is with Shatterbird. I hope the miasma didn’t break his concentration, and that he still has her under control. Things are going to get rather messy if he doesn’t have her as a puppet right now.

Grue is here! And Skitter welcomes him with suspicion. Tired of having a gun pointed at them, Tattletale asks what’ll be necessary for her to trust them, so Skitter asks them a question.

“The fight with Empire Eighty-Eight’s mooks.  When I made the human-shaped tower of bugs for the first time, and they shot into it while I crouched inside…”

That was when they went to invade Heckpuppy’s shelter, wasn’t it? She was with Heckpuppy, not with these two. Tattletale avoids answering, arguing she was orientating herself thanks to her power, but it seems she’s not able to answer this. Skitter can’t think of any other way to find out it’s them. Oh boy. This is a standstill.

Since proving it’s them didn’t work, Tattletale appeals to Skitter’s heart, she begs her to listen to it and react accordingly. That’d work if her heart was telling her anything! Hah! If Tattletale and Grue are fake, this must be getting really frustrating for them! And if they’re the real deal...well it’s going to get frustrating anyway. The agnosia miasma is seriously inconvenient.

Tired of having to appeal to Skitter, Grue suggests they continue alone. That elicits a reaction, because being alone in middle of this miasma is something Skitter would like to avoid. Grue then continues insisting, telling her they know how she feels and that he feels the same, even if he trusts Tattletale, and that she should trust her heart.

I wanted so desperately for it to be like in the movies, where people could trust your heart.  Where you were holding the gun and you had to choose between shooting the evil clone and shooting your friend, and you just knew.

It’s never that simple, and especially not when you have agnosia. Seeing this is leading nowhere, Grue takes action and approaches to give Skitter an awkward hug. Not the time, Grue – if that’s your real name, bucko.

Okay, so far I was thinking I was jumping to conclusions with all of their actions, but something’s just off about all this. Tattletale, can you stop grinning? Not the time for that either. Boy am I going to be so embarrassed if it turns out they’re the real deal.

“Priority number one, we get in contact with Cherish,” Tattletale said, grinning. “From there, we can decide whether we want to track down Panacea or go after the Slaughterhouse Nine.”

Honestly that’s a hard decision. Do you try to cure the possibly fatal miasma, or do you hunt the culprits before you die? Going for any of these options and failing for one reason or another will waste time, and most likely lead to failure – and that’s supposing Cherish is cooperative. I sure don’t think she’ll be willing to be a good trooper and lend a hand in a selfless manner.

Still, that’s the current plan, so it’ll be done. Skitter doesn’t let go of her gun, even if she feels uneasy about it, because she feels uneasy about everything right now. Reminds her of her school. Wow, talk about an awful school atmosphere. Not that I’m surprised about it.

I muttered, “Sooner we’re fucking cured of this miasma, the better.”

“Hey!”  Tattletale paused, pointing at me with a stern expression on her face.  “Don’t swear!”

Oooookay, now I’m certain it isn’t her. She sure didn’t protest at all about their language in the past. I doubt the miasma will also give her agnosia as to how little she cares about swears. Then that means Skitter is currently in the grasp of two of her enemies – supposing these are the Slaughterhouse Nine. Also, she got hugged by one of them. Icky. But yeah, the point is, she’s in trouble and she doesn’t realize that to the full extent yet. For her sake I hope she realizes it before she digs too deep of a hole.

That’s the end of the chapter. Good one! And the arc still isn’t over. This will be a long arc.

Next time: in three updates

[sapphicscholar]

A/N: Sorry for the delay, but I'm back now! We're building up to the finale very soon now, so thanks for bearing with me!

Chapter Text:

After sending messages to both Kate and J’onn, telling them to turn on the lab feeds, Maggie grabbed her own computer and took off for the garage. With the audio from the lab filling her car, Maggie sped over to the lab and parking in a secluded back alley a few blocks away to pull up the video feed herself. As much as she wanted to go rushing into the lab, gun drawn and cuffs out, she knew enough to trust Alex, to wait and see what she did before she gave up their identities.

---

Sam paced across Cat’s lab, her mind working to process everything the other woman had revealed in her slightly incoherent rambling. Sure, there was some frustration with her methods—that much she had expected, though when Lillian had eyes in so many places, things couldn’t exactly be done in the normal way, like, say, issuing an invitation to Cat to join her at the lab. But there seemed to be a reluctance there to pledge allegiance to Lillian, even as the girl delivered useful products and stayed loyal to Cadmus as an organization. And that—well, that was exactly the kind of person Sam needed.

“I need you to tell me how this works,” Sam stated, handing over a petri dish. She looked expectantly over at Cat.

Alex arched an eyebrow at her. “It’s the middle of the night. You understand that tests take time, right?”

“What if I have some of the research that went into it? I need to know what this organism has been designed to do.”

“Can I assume this is Project Hydra?”

Sam regarded Cat silently for a long moment. “Yes.”

“So Lillian has other scientists working for her?”

A loud bark of laughter was the immediate reply. “What, you thought you were special? Thought you might be her only pet scientist?”

Alex bristled at that; she wasn’t exactly hoping to be Cadmus’ number one, but the idea that they had others working for them, working on those projects that Alex wouldn’t deign to touch, knowing there were some ethical boundaries that couldn’t be uncrossed, even for the goal of keeping her cover. “I don’t like redundancy. If I’m working on a project, I don’t want to find out that it’s just some little test to keep me busy. I have other things that could be better uses of my time.”

“Mm, I see a bit of time back in the lab has brought back your confidence.”

“Time in the lab. Someone who saw my potential. Either way—doesn’t change the fact that I know just how good I am.”

“Your work on Project Helios was impressive, I won’t deny it.”

“Good.”

“But you didn’t want to work on Project Hydra, so Lillian found someone else who did. And they’ve made progress.” Sam’s face remained an impassive mask even as she felt her stomach roil with the rage that had driven her out in her car in the middle of the night in the first place.

“But you don’t trust their progress?”

Sam shrugged.

“Or is it that you don’t trust the project?” Alex asked, hoping she hadn’t pushed too far.

Back in the car, Maggie had her gun tucked into the back of her jeans, ready to bolt to the building at the slightest sign that Sam thought Alex’s question went too far, strayed just a little too close into the “questioning Cadmus” territory. The tense silence seemed to last an eternity until the small, slightly pixelated version of Sam barely inclined her head. “I’d like to know the full extent of the project’s ends.”

It was diplomatic, noncommittal, very Sam, Maggie thought. But it also seemed to show her hand in a way that they hadn’t gotten before. Sure, she might not have said outright that she didn’t trust the project. But she went far enough to admit that she wasn’t sure about it, needed more facts before she decided. And that crack in the façade of unwavering trust in Lillian and Cadmus was enough for Maggie to relax ever so slightly.

She sat back in her seat and watched as Sam produced a binder of research from her bag and handed it off to Alex before sitting on one of the lab stools, giving Alex time to read through the pages of notes. Even though Alex’s face was tilted away from the cameras, Maggie could just imagine the look of concentration she would have seen—the little furrow between her eyebrows, the tip of her tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth, the way she’d narrow her eyes in suspicion when some conclusion in the research was drawn without proper evidence. She watched as Alex grabbed for a pen and began scrawling notes to herself, and she wondered what exactly was going on in that brilliant head of hers.

When Alex finally looked up at Lillian again, her expression was grim. “What do you want to know?”

“Same question as before, Cat. What are they trying to make it do?”

“Colonize a human host, though I think you already knew that.” Sam inclined her head and gestured for Alex to continue. “The scientist they found to work on this project selectively bred enough generations to get to a strain of the microbe in which longevity isn’t such an issue. They can breed and live long enough to thoroughly embed themselves in a test subject.” Maggie shuddered. She thought that had been the whole project, but it seemed like Alex was just getting started.

“And what does it do?” Sam asked.

“Well…at this point, not much. But they’re working on developing a plasmid that could be introduced with the microbe.”

Maggie was glad to see that phrase didn’t ring any bells for Sam either.

“I think it’s alien in origin. It’s normally harmless in humans. As is, it’ll stay inert, but they’re working with frequencies that could, I believe—don’t quote me on it, though—be played or transmitted to activate it remotely.”

“And what would that activation do?” Sam asked, her patience growing thin.

“Up their reproduction rate exponentially.”

“Haven’t they already colonized the host?”

Alex shook her head, pushing her hair back from her face. “I don’t think you’re getting just how much higher these reproduction rates are. It wouldn’t be creating numbers high enough to colonize; it’d be enough to kill—and kill almost instantly.”

Repressing a shudder, Maggie watched for a reaction in Sam. The woman’s voice was tight when she finally spoke up, and her hands were clenched around the edge of the lab table. “Have they been successful?”

“Looking at these notes? Not yet.”

“Are they close?”

Alex shrugged. “Maybe.”

Sam nodded, more to herself than anyone else, then packed up her bag quickly and methodically. “Well, thank you for your help, Cat.”

“Yeah, uh, no problem…”

“I’m sure you understand the slightly unorthodox methods now, but I promise to make it up to you.”

“Oh, uh, it’s really fine,” Alex stammered, rather certain she had no desire for whatever reward Sam might dole out.

Sam waved off her concerns. “Can I assume you’ll be at Maria’s apartment tomorrow?”

Alex forced herself to nod.

“I’ll have it sent there, then.”

---

Back in the car, Maggie called Kate as soon as Alex left with Sam to get a ride back to the apartment. She knew she couldn’t exactly tail them without risking being noticed, so she sat in the alley for a few extra minutes, fighting every instinct that told her to be close to Alex, to be there for her the moment she stepped through the front door.

“Did you see that?” Maggie asked as soon as the line picked up.

“I did,” Kate confirmed. “Think we have ourselves a Cadmus defector?”

“I think we at least have someone who might want to turn on Lillian. Did you get any more information about that Jocelyn woman?”

“I think we’ve uncovered a bit. We were able to find her full name from old marriage licenses, which led us to her death certificate. She was only 35—definitely not natural causes.”

“Shit. What killed her?”

“No autopsy was ever done.”

“How?”

“Enough money and influence can keep people from asking questions.” Maggie swore again. “We’re looking to see if we can’t find any evidence around what happened, but for now, that’s all we’ve got. Well, that and the fact that Sam got much more involved with Cadmus after Jocelyn’s death.”

“Think it was related, or was it just that she didn’t really have a life outside of Cadmus anymore?”

“Either? Both? We’re working on it.”

“Alright, well, keep me updated?”

“We will. And be safe—Project Hydra sounds nasty.”

“Always. Talk to you later, Kate.”

“Bye, Mags.”

---

Once Maggie got a text from Alex telling her she was home safely, Maggie sped the last two blocks to the apartment and nearly threw herself into the elevator in her haste to get up from the parking garage.

She bit her lip at the last second before calling out for Alex, just in case Sam was still around. “Babe?” she yelled instead.

“In here—it’s just me. Already swept for bugs.”

“Oh god, are you okay?” Maggie surged forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Alex.

Alex was fine; she had been through worse on the job, had certainly seen worse done to others. But with her head on Maggie’s shoulder and strong arms holding her close, she couldn’t quite hold back the shudder that ran through her, the small sob she quickly choked back at the idea that, had the circumstances been just slightly different, had she responded the wrong way, hell, had she been biking just a little faster, she might not ever have come home to Maggie.

“You’re good. I’ve got you,” Maggie whispered, her fingers carding through Alex’s hair as she felt the woman’s breathing even out once more. Once Alex seemed back to normal—or as normal as could be hoped for in the situation—Maggie led her into the kitchen and put on a pot of water to make tea. Over two steaming mugs of chamomile, they debriefed, talked about whether they might be able to use Sam to bring down Lillian, shuddered at the possibilities that Project Hydra held.

“How’d you know to look?” Alex finally asked.

“I’m your partner, Danvers. I’ve always got your back.”

“Yeah…but as far as you were concerned I may as well have been at work.”

Looking sheepish, Maggie rubbed at the back of her neck. “Well, uh, normally I get a better reaction to my texts…”

Alex cackled. “Is it sad that my first reaction was: oh good, she’ll surely know that it’s not me texting if I don’t send something equally dirty in response, or at least a promise to make some of those wishes come true over the long weekend?”

“Just proves how in sync we are,” Maggie teased. “Now, what do you say we get to bed and try to have ourselves a quiet Thanksgiving together tomorrow? Just ignore Sam and Cadmus and the whole damn world for a little while.”

“I think that sounds perfect,” Alex answered honestly. “Oh shit. I lost the pie—Sam didn’t let me get it.”

“Tragic, but I think we’ll live. What matters is that you’re here.”

“Getting soft on me, Sawyer?”

“Something about the holiday season, I suppose…”

---

The next morning they woke up to a knock at the door. Immediately on alert, they edged their way into the living room, clad in baggy flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirts and clutching knives and guns. They might have still been blinking sleep from their eyes, but thanks to years of training in less than ideal conditions, at least they would still be able to execute a well-coordinated attack if need be.

“Delivery!” came a man’s voice.

Tucking her gun behind her back, Alex cracked the door open slightly. “Hello?”

“I have an order for a Cat Sullivan from an S.W.”

Remembering the promise of something to make up for last night’s kidnapping, Alex pulled the door open a little wider—wide enough to see the rather gigantic box the man had with him. “That’s me.”

“Perfect. Can you sign for it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Alex grabbed the pen and scrawled the messy signature she had decided Cat might have. “Shit, did you get a tip already? I can’t imagine it was easy to get that box up the stairs…”

The man laughed and dipped his head. “Your mysterious gift-giver paid very well to make sure that I got your delivery here on time. But thank you for the offer. Enjoy your Thanksgiving, Ms. Sullivan.”

“You too.”

Once he left, Maggie ran to get the scanners, looking relieved when it became clear that the boxes were clean. Alex pulled out a pair of scissors and ripped the smaller box open, laughing loudly at the sight of three pies from the nicest bakery in town that would last them at least a week or two. The larger box contained a brand new bike that Alex guessed cost a significant amount more than the used one she’d been forced to abandon on the side of the road.

“Oh yeah… Where is your bike?” Maggie asked.

“I imagine mangled on the side of the road at this point.” The sight of Cat’s name drew Alex’s attention to a card that had been carefully taped to the corner of the bike box.

“Thank you for your help last night. Happy Thanksgiving. We’ll be in touch soon enough.”

[ctrl-shift-esc]

Home Surgery

House renovations not only feel like a bomb went off in your home but a bomb went off in your head too. It’s like the Hunger Games in a relationship. Good luck, may the strongest couple win… 

Hello fam,

long time no talk (unless you’ve been following along on the ol’insta stories).
Even then, I haven’t been keeping up as often as I used to (Sorry bout it?). So let me bring you up to date on everything and all that is Veronica & her shenanigans…

We moved into our home last April which is now, 7 months ago! We’re still knee deep in renovations. Surprised? I’m not! Who am I kidding…yes I am… I mean I was hoping we would’ve been done by now (epic wishful thinking on my part). Things have moved slowly since April.

It’s to be expected I suppose, I hadn’t really spent any consecutive time at home before June. Once I got back, I was exhausted and didn’t feel like taking on any huge projects. I’d worked full time on set for over 10 months followed by months on end of travelling. I was craving some stand-still time. I wanted to enjoy my summer and not be a slave to home renovations. In lieu of my laziness we chipped away at projects only on weekends. At first, my boyfriend was the one trying to kick me in the ass to buckle down and get the work done. Fast forward 4 months later – here I am, getting impatient so I’m doing the kicking of the ass…

Going into this, I kept saying that I’d be fine gutting a place to its bones – that I’d done this kind of thing before and the mess didn’t scare me. Which is fact, but what I’d ignored was my need to have a home – a sanctuary – a safe haven. I didn’t realize a gutted house meant a gutted sanctuary. Going into this, I also kept saying ; I need a place to call home. So I’m not sure what I was expecting… maybe I expected things to magically get done on their own, or somehow still have a livable space in the midst of dust and chaos?! How could I’ve missed this? I am not sure…

Everything happened so fast, we’d been casually house hunting for a few months when we discovered what would be our future home. We didn’t think too much of it until the idea of owning it slowly crept in. In fact, at first the house gave me a weird vibe. Something didn’t flow but I was determined to find out what… We agreed to go for a second viewing, at this point we were already talking about our demolition plans. Next thing you know; we put in an offer, we negotiated and closed — It’s ours!

We knew right away we wanted to update the two upstairs bathrooms (they haven’t been touched since the 70′s). Painting was a non-negotiable. We also played with the idea of blowing out the entrance wall to open the space up. Also, the mudroom slash laundry room could use a face-lift. The master bedroom lacked closet space and bathroom space. Needless to say, we had to get creative with the designs to maximize every inch of this place and I’d be lying if I said we had it all figured out. You get the point; the list of projects is never ending.

We tackled the main living areas first. While I was away my boyfriend started by removing the popcorn ceiling in the main living room. This was our first setback. It took weeks to properly remove it all, then, weeks to properly sand & paint. Soon after we decided to demolish the entrance wall (best decision ever). Later we painted the whole main floor… Never underestimate how much painting can do to a space – also, never underestimate how long painting with a roller can take…

Now that we were knee deep in our reno’s, we decided to make our lives even harder by redoing the floors in all main living spaces; main living room, kitchen and TV room. 

The current floor is acacia hardwood flooring. A color that is now outdated, with plank sizes that are also outdated. The lower TV room is covered in a light beige carpet but also has a backyard access. Oh & the hardwood? Scratched to shit. There isn’t one ounce of flooring that isn’t damaged. So here were my thoughts; Why have carpet in a room where you’d be accessing the outside from? If our floors are already damaged & outdated how would that affect us in the long run, for resale value? So first, I tried to match the TV room floor to the acacia wood… Once we started digging to find a matching floor we quickly realized we were most likely never going to be able to match it. Like a salesman once told me “you’re chasing a leprechaun”. Cool cool cool cool…So cool. It would never be a perfect match, in other words — it would be noticeably different. Uh, No. I’m not okay with that. There’s nothing more frustrating and disorienting than walking into a home that lacks cohesiveness. We toyed with the idea of sanding and restaining, until we found out it would cost more than replacing the whole floor.

Thanks to my Design firm, I’ve got access to flooring I otherwise wouldn’t have found on my own. I was suggested an alternative type of flooring that is in theory a Vinyl plank, but in reality, is its own type called SPC flooring (stone plastic composite). It looks and feels like wood. It has no expansion or contraction since its made of stone & plastic. It’s waterproof and highly scratch resistant. This sounds like the perfect floor for a home that would resell to a young family with tons of kids and dogs that may ruin a beautiful hardwood. Want proof? come over and look at ours.

The tricky thing about this flooring is that the planks are quite thin. It offers little to no flexibility, so your subfloor needs to be leveled near perfect to prevent any cracking… In a high-rise or newer house this is easier to accomplish. In a 70′s home where the foundation can and most probably is uneven, not so much. Our challenge was to find the right installer who knew this floor, who’s worked with it before and who understands the leveling specs. We interviewed 3 or 4 installers, one of which was convinced he could not only match our existing floor (ya! right!) but could also sand and restain it a different color. Which fyi, I’d been repeatedly told would be close to impossible to do with acacia…?!… A risk I wasn’t necessarily willing to take. Especially if it’d cost more than installing a brand new – scratch resistant – waterproof flooring! The other installers came in really confident about having worked with the floor before until I started asking questions… Slowly they started hesitating & pulled back from wanting to level our floor. I lost interest in hiring them 1- I couldn’t understand the words that were coming out of their mouths and 2- if there was any chance that they were talking themselves up only to make a quick buck, when in reality they know jack squat about this floor & risk damaging it – That’s gonna be a hard no from me… At this point I was losing interest in the whole ordeal. Let’s keep our damaged floors and move on! Losing hope over here! Just let me buy a couch already!

Let’s back up for a second… All the while this is happening, keep in mind, our house is not furnished. Decorations (the ones we have) are put away. Walls are bare, clothes aren’t put away. It’s a total dissaray. Well maybe dissaray isn’t the right word, but it’s a tiny shit show & it’s getting old.

We couldn’t do anything else until the floor situation was dealt with. Finishing the second coat of paint is now on hold, since installing the floors might damage the walls, we might have to repaint everything anyway. You wouldn’t catch me repainting 1200 sq ft with rollers A THIRD TIME! No way Jose.

Since everything else was on hold. I wanted to start the master bedroom project right away instead of waiting until spring like we’d originally planned. Let’s at least get one room over with, my gosh! So we decided to take the closet project head on and not look back. Our plan was to finish it the weekend we started. Wrong! say hello to our second setback. We are now 3 weeks later and we’re still working on the bedroom. Don’t get me wrong, we got 75% done on that weekend, but we encountered technical difficulties that have lingered since then, including the purge of my closet and organizing it all… this is a project in itself. One that may or may not take just as long as painting a whole house by hand…

The room is essentially done, I’m hoping we can officially wipe our hands clean from the renovations of this bedroom by this weekend and get started on the decorations! 

They say you find what you’re looking for when you stop looking — once we stopped looking for floor installers, we finally got a hold of the supplier who’d recommended someone they’d worked with before. Hallelujah! He was easy to communicate with & he agreed to come over that weekend to give us an estimate. I tried not to get my hopes up, for all I knew we may have invited an overrated installer into our house just to tease ourselves…

Once we met, it was clear we all got along great. He’s clearly worked with the floor before and I knew this because he answered questions I didn’t even get a chance to ask. He knew the specs and explained the process without being dodgy. That’s our guy, I don’t care how much he costs hire the guy! We all know my boyfriend put a stop to that real quick — we stick to the budget, he said. So here I was, crossing my fingers to death. He sent us his estimate the next day and it was within our budget!

YUUSSSSS!!! We finally found our guy, This is so exciting! We have a bit of prep work to do before they come to install, but for the first time in months it feels like the work we’re doing is going somewhere! Floors will be installed by the first week of December!

The best news of all; phase 1 is almost complete! That’s right, we decided to do our renovations in phases. Because we need a break y’all! We will hibernate through winter and get back to it in spring…We will focus on the fun stuff over the winter, like beautifying our home. The rest of the renovations like the mudroom and bathrooms can thankfully be quarantined so we don’t have to look or live in a hot mess for months on end! Home stretch folks! One more month and we can relax for a while.

We have a few fun trips planned over the holidays. We booked a mini getaway in a cabin on Galiano Island, at Bodega Cove, at the end of December (board games for days!). Saying we’re excited is an understatement. We will be hosting a House warming holiday cocktail party right before new years, then, we will head to Victoria to ring in the new year in style! We’ve got a good few months ahead & I’m damn well looking forward to it!

We shed blood, sweat & tears over the last 7 months. I’m not lying when I say it’s been a process, (now that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel) I can finally start to appreciate the journey! 

I’ll keep you posted on all the progress, dontcha worry!

Notes to remember from a fellow renovator to you:

* If you’re doing major renovations or are thinking of renovating - try to do it before you move in. Renovations are stressful enough as it is, there’s no need to add stress by living in the mess. So if you can avoid it, I recommend it.

* Renovating can and most probably will stress you out – healthy lifestyle habits like eating properly, exercising and proper sleep patterns will do wonders. Don’t give up on yourself.

* Try to remember that it’s temporary and keep in mind things will get worse before they get better (yes you read that right... It’s something I somehow didn’t realize). It’s only part of the process. Keep your eye on the prize! If you’re having trouble visualizing it with the walls gutted, create a vision board and put it up in a space where you can see it clearly and daily.

* If things get too intense, walk away from it and go do something that will reward you emotionally. Self-Care is knowing when to walk away. 

* When taking on a renovation project as a couple, it’s an added pressure to the relationship. Relationships are already a lot of work as it is; worrying about work - day to day responsibilities - and having to take care of your family life (if you have kids). Adding renovations to the mix can make you feel overwhelmed. Your schedules will be overflowing with To Do lists – but remember that romance also needs to be a priority. Date nights & relationship time needs to be allocated. Set aside some time to focus on watering the relationship. You’ll need it. Don’t let the To Do lists come between you two. The lists will always be there, time together is precious.

* most of all – try and have fun! (taking my own advice on this one!)

Until then Ctrl+Shift+ ESCAPE but Stay tuned for a closet reveal :)