#like his dad engineered it that way so that he could both check in regularly about his spying

[professorlegaspi]

It makes sense, but I’ve got opinions on Quiroz living with his dad

[tf2-hellhole]

can we get some fluffy tf2 headcannons? giving you full creative liberty over this one! :)

Idk if you meant tf2 x reader headcanons or just general head canons, so I did two sections for each merc; the first point is a general headcanon, the second is X Reader.

sorry this took forEEEEEEEEVER, I was just experiencing burnout and working on a prize for a contest on my server (BTW WE HAVE A NEW DRAWING CONTEST GO CHECK IT OUT)

Scout:

Scout is actually really self-concious about his intelligence. He’s not very bright and he knows it, and it makes him feel horrible. He had flunked out of high school and struggled in most of his core classes. He honestly feels really stupid and he hates when people point it out. But luckily for him, a lot of the other mercs understand what it’s like to be looked down upon and empathize with him. Quite a few of them help him relearn the skills he never mastered in school. Engie helps him with math, Spy sometimes helps him with writing, and even Pyro has him read children’s books to them to improve his reading.

Scout absolutely loves little casual dates. Stuff like going out to eat lunch, going to the movies, maybe just cuddling up in his quarters and watching a movie. He tries to plan one every week. His dream date is taking you back to Boston to meet his family and go to a Red Sox game. But obviously, since you’re both in New Mexico at the time, he’s going to have to shelve that dream for a few years.

Soldier:

Soldier is an excellent raccoon dad. At first, the other mercenaries thought they’d all end up dead by the end of the month when he first found them. But surprisingly, they are are very well cared for. They’re all fed regularly and basically have his entire assigned quarters to themselves. He loves every single one of them dearly, even the ones that hiss and scratch him every time. The raccoons, at least some of them, are kind of like weird, quiet dogs, and actually get along pretty well with most of the other mercenaries.

Soldier is a surprisingly very physically affectionate partner, and he’s not at all opposed to PDA. He loves hand holding, cheek kisses, cuddles, the whole nine yards. Whenever he’s particularly excited, he loves to run up to you, scoop you up into his arms, and press a hard, sloppy kiss to your lips. Of course, he’s careful to not hurt you, but he’s a very intense, emotional guy and he needs to express all that love he has for you!

Pyro:

Pyro is and excellent listener, so they’re a person a lot of the other mercenaries depend on to vent. Demo often comes to them to vent about his emotions, Scout, Sniper, or Medic will rant about what’s bothering them, and even Engineer will talk about his stress. And of course, Pyro doesn’t understand a lot of what is told to them, but they’re still happy to help them feel a little better, and they would happily do it a hundred times over to make their friends feel better.

Pyro has a hobby of baking and making candy/treats, and they love sharing everything they make with you. When they first gave you a treat, you honestly thought it’d be burnt or bad in some other way. But to your surprise, it was amazing! They’re actually and excellent cook, but they just love making sweet things the best. They’ll make you just about anything you could ask for without hesitation, but they’re best at making anything sweet.

Demo:

Demo obviously has the potential to pretty emotional when he’s drunk, there’s no doubt about that. But on the off-chance that he’s sober, he’s actually pretty sweet and considerate. Though he still is a rough-housing joker, he’s much more considerate of his friends’ feelings and has deeper and more meaningful conversations with them. He often likes to go to bars with his friends and co-workers on ceasefire weekends, having lots of fun conversation, drinking together, and generally causing chaos around town.

Demo, to put it simply, doesn’t like himself. He’s critical of everything, from his skills to race, because people have always put him down about them. His mother told him he’s lazy and unskilled too many times to count, just everyone makes fun of his eye, and many have made fun of his skin color. But you make him feel so much better about himself. Just the fact that someone so kind and gorgeous is actually with him makes him feel like he’s not as horrible as he thought. There’s been a couple of times where you’ve accidentally almost brought him to tears with a sweet compliment or show of affection, because he never thought in a million years that someone would love him and care for him like you do. He feels so blessed that he has someone like you.

Heavy:

I know the fandom’s decided that Engie is the Team Mom and makes the food, but I also think that Heavy cooks a lot too. He makes all of his own food, so he often makes a lot of extras to feed the team because a lot of them just eat junk food and Medic’s always complaining about their eating habits. Heavy often takes like half the food for himself (he does have a huge appetite and loves food, so he likes to take a lot) and just boxes up the leftover portions and leaves them in the fridge for the team to take. He says he’s only doing it because they can’t work properly if they’re unhealthy, but he also does it because he cares about their health. A little bit.

At first, you wouldn’t think Heavy’s the most cuddly guy. But surprise, he actually loves giving and receiving physical affection. He just doesn’t show it often out of respect for your boundaries, and doesn’t do it around others. His absolute favorite thing is to cuddle you against his chest. Sometimes it’s when going to sleep, or cuddling on the couch, or maybe just a quick hug. He just loves the feeling of your head resting against his chest and your arms trying (and failing) to wrap around his torso. It makes him feel like you’re safe. Nobody could ever get you when you’re wrapped up in his arms.

Engie:

You’d think Sniper’s the only nature nerd on the team, but Engie absolutely loves the outdoors, as well as animals. It’s because his father would often take him out camping every couple of months. It was often the only time he would get 1-on-1 time with his usually very busy father. So he does love the great outdoors, especially that of his home state. He especially loves animals. He was raised on a farm and helped take care of lots of injured wild animals with his mother. He absolutely loves pets and would like to have many when he retires. His dream is to have is own ranch, with horses and cows and a bunch of dogs and the whole shebang.

Engie absolutely loves playing the guitar, so of course he loves playing for you. He learns all sorts of sweet love songs to sing to you. He’s an excellent player and actually has a pretty decent singing voice (think Johnny Cash, he kinda has that singing style). I hope you like country music, because that’s all he’s going to sing to you until you give him some requests or he finds out your favorite artists or genres. You can tell how happy he is every time he gets to surprise you with a new song he learned, and he’d be a giddy, laughing mess if you sang along with him.

Medic:

You’d think this guy takes horrible care of his birds because of the environment he keeps them in, but his birds are actually exceptionally well cared for. He buys them only the best and most expensive bird food, gives them super high-quality water with vitamins n stuff in it, takes them to the vet regularly, the whole shebang. Yeah they get a little dirty from sitting around in his lab, but he always gives them a little bath at the end of the day to get all the blood and guts off.

Medic is honestly such a playful partner. Of course, around his co-workers he’s a little more professional; he still gives you soft touches, a kiss on the cheek, or a big smile, but that’s about it. In private, however, he’s such a sweetheart. He’s always sweeping you up into big hugs, kissing all over your face, and calling you all sorts of adorable nicknames in a variety of languages. It comes as a surprise, because you’d think he’d be a little more formal, but that’s really only for special occasions. It honestly brings him so much joy to have someone like you by his side, and every day he’s going to make sure you know just how grateful he is to have you in his life.

Sniper:

Sniper is an incredibly independent and self-sufficient man, but he’s also secretly a real mama’s boy. He loves his parents dearly and has a particularly close relationship with his mother. As well as sending them money every month, he sends them all sorts of gifts, letters, postcards, and souvenirs. He also makes sure to call them regularly. He goes home every couple of months to visit them, and one could see that he loves helping around the house and chatting with his parents. His mother loved gardening, so his number-1 favorite thing to do is help her in the garden.

Despite Sniper’s obvious lack of knowledge on self-care, he takes a lot of time out of his day to make sure you are happy, healthy, clean, and well-fed. He doesn’t hound you like a helicopter parent but he likes to ask how you’re feeling, if you’re hungry, stuff like that. It feels nice to know you’re taken care of or take care of you himself. If you switch it around and try to take care of him, however, he’s honestly baffled as to why you would care so much as to make sure he’s doing well. He does absolutely love the affection and attention he gets out of it though, it makes him feel loved.

Spy:

I’ve mentioned this before, but I have a head canon that Spy has a dog. Her name is Charlotte, and she’s an elderly Chihuahua. One would think he’d buy a French breed, but he found her out in the pouring rain one day and fell in love with her fluffy ears and spunky personality. She’s now 17 years old, extremely frail, missing most of her teeth, and extremely aggressive to anyone other than Spy, but he loves her dearly and pays for all of her medical expenses without batting an eye. And of course, she expresses her thanks with lots of kisses.

Spy loves dancing, and knows all kinds of dances, from flamenco to ballroom dancing to the Charleston to, canonically, disco. So of course, he’s dying to share all of the most romantic dances he knows with you. He’d love to actually teach you how to dance, rewarding you with kisses every time you finally get a move right and laughing softly when you make mistakes. But in reality, he just wants to use it as an excuse to dance with you against his chest and smother you in affection.

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 10

.

@pocketramblr :)

.

One day - and not even a whole day, because of travel time and Inko wanted Izuku home for dinner- simply wasn't enough time to master a quirk. Although he could turn Float on and off, now. So, they made plans to come back next week, and the next, up until the sports festival. Which. Wow. Really was only two weeks away.

Izuku had never realized how close to the beginning of the school year it was.

He was going to die.

"You're not going to die," said Mr. Yagi. "I'm not going to say the sports festival isn't important, because it is, it's one of the best ways to make professional connections for students, but not doing well isn't the end of the world, especially not in your first year. No one expects you to be perfectly polished."

"But," said Izuku, "I'm supposed to be the next you! I've got to stand out, right?"

Mr. Yagi looked very guilty. "I... may have given you that impression when we were first training, yes. But, since then, with all my research into the past holders... few of them were popular, flashy heroes. If you want to walk the same path as me, that's great. But you don't have to. Even I didn't really start that chapter of my life until after college."

Izuku looked down at his hands, letting silence fill the space between them as he contemplated Mr. Yagi's words. "This isn't about me manifesting One for All differently, is it?"

"What? No, no of course not, my boy. I mean, it certainly helped me come to this conclusion, I wouldn't have done so much research without it! But I certainly hope I would have come to the same conclusion eventually, even so."

"Okay..." said Izuku, still dubious.

"I mean it," protested Mr. Yagi. "Most of my work is essentially underground, you know. There's a reason the battle trial was what it was."

"H-huh? You? Underground? But you're so recognizable!"

"Am I? I firmly believe in bringing all my resources to bear in the fight against evil! Ha ha!"

His laugh devolved into a cough, and he fumbled for a handkerchief. But he recovered quickly enough.

"I guess that makes sense," said Izuku, cautiously, once he thought Mr. Yagi wasn't going to start coughing again.

"You didn't think I stayed number one by popularity alone, did you?"

"I- the formulas the Hero Commission uses to determine rankings are secret, and it only includes spotlight heroes, so when I extrapolated the hero billboard rankings, yes, I assigned a high weight to popularity. There were always some discrepancies between my predictions and the end results, but I figured I missed some events, or the commission assigned them different values…"

"That's quite impressive, my boy. But, though popularity is a factor, the HPSC does take unpublicized fights and rescues into account. Assuming you report them…"

That was the second time Mr. Yagi had mentioned not telling the commission something.

"Do you, um, do you do that a lot? Not tell the commission things, I mean."

"Eh? No, no, I try to stay up on my paperwork. I get a lot of help from Naomasa, though. Some heroes, especially independent ones, without an agency, do have trouble keeping up, sometimes."

"It's just… the other day you said something about not telling the commission about All for One."

"Ah," said Mr. Yagi. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "You're quite right. How should I put this… The HPSC knows All for One exists, and I have made them generally aware of his modern exploits. I haven't told them about his ability to give quirks, though they may know through other avenues, there are certain battles I've had with him that I haven't told them about, and they do not know about One for All."

“Why not?”

“Villains aren’t the only ones who seek power,” said Mr. Yagi. “The HPSC provides a vital service, and I think what one does matters more than why one does it, but… it is my observation that many of the people there are more concerned with personal power than doing the right thing. And positions of power and authority tend to draw in those who would abuse those things."

"Even heroics?"

"Especially heroics. The HPSC Ethics Review Board is supposed to stop that, but no system is perfect." He shook himself. "But look at me! I was trying to give you a pep talk, not saddle you with doubts about the government!"

Izuku laughed, nervously. "I mean, you've definitely distracted me from the sports festival…"

“Yes. The sports festival. Don’t worry about making a big spotlight combat debut. If you want to focus on rescue, or investigation, or the underground, I’ll support you all the way.” He paused. “You do need combat, though, because, because of-”

“All for One?”

“Yes, exactly. All for One.”

.

“Way to kill the mood, guys,” said Banjo.

“I think the mood was thoroughly dead already,” said Yoichi.

“Unlike your brother,” said En. “Ninth’s father.”

“Come on, it was just a little omission of information. It wasn’t even a lie!”

“It was definitely a lie. You’re so lucky that my relief about you not being a pedophile eclipsed my righteous fury regarding your mendacity.”

“You know, the fact that you’re delivering that completely deadpan gives me doubts about the fury part.”

“I’m mad at you.”

“You love me.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be mad at you.”

“Hey, hey, wait a minute,” said Nana, making a ‘T’ shape with her hands. “Time out. Ninth’s father is All for One.”

“Yes,” said Yoichi, hanging his head, “I thought that had been established.”

“So, are we… What Toshinori is saying is completely valid, by the way… but, are we expecting this kid to fight his father? Is that a thing we’re doing?”

“Uh,” said Yoichi, “in our defense, we did think he was dead.”

“Maybe Eighth will get ‘im before Ninth has to deal with it,” suggested Banjo. “He’s got to have a better chance of that, now what with Fa Jin and all.” He paused. “But, you know what would give Ninth an even better chance, if he does have to fight his deadbeat dad-”

“He’s not a deadbeat,” interrupted Hikage.

“What?”

“Calling him a deadbeat would imply that he is neither supporting the Midoriyas financially nor regularly in contact with them. He is on both counts.”

“What?” squealed Bango.

“Did you miss his phone call with his father immediately following his return home after the USJ attack?”

“Oh,” said Yoichi, “no, I was very aware of my brother’s evil, evil voice. It’s just that these guys were too focused on scolding me to listen to anything I had to say. I still can’t believe he sent someone like that to attack his own son’s class.”

“Didn’t he, like, kill you?” asked En.

“No, my death was largely unrelated. You’ve got to remember, I was a chronically ill fugitive from the law with no money. Who told you that he killed me?”

Everyone looked at their immediate predecessor. Yoichi tracked the path back to Third, who had gone very stiff.

“What the heck, Third? You were there when I died. Why would you tell Hikage that?”

Third did not answer.

“Actually, what did he tell you, Hikage?

“Oh, it was very moving and heroic. It happened while you were saving a busload of metahuman orphans. You sacrificed yourself to let them get away from All for One. I even cried a little.”

“Is it weird that I’m now disappointed in myself for not dying like that?”

“Very,” said Nana.

“What were we talking about before this?” asked En.

“I have no idea,” said Banjo.

.

Izuku delayed going to class, nervous about everyone's reactions to his quirk. It wasn't that he thought they'd reject him, but more that he had no answers for the inevitable questions.

But he also didn't want to be late.

"Todoroki was so cool!" Hagakure exclaimed as he opened the classroom door. "He was all like, blam, bam, swish! And- and he checked whether or not I was there first, before attacking, which was super cool of him."

Todoroki's expression was halfway between 'statue' and 'help, I've been hit by a truck.' "Cool?"

"Very cool."

"You've grown since the first day, kero."

"Ah! Midoriya!"

All heads turned towards him. In the next second, he was hugged by several people, which was more friendly skin contact than he'd had since… ever, probably.

"Eep," he said.

"We were so worried about you," said Uraraka. "We made a group chat, after, but since you were unconscious…"

"Hm," said Monoma, "your quirk still is definitely a stockpile…"

"Monoma!" shouted Iida. "Did you join this hug just to copy quirks?"

"And what of it?"

"But speaking of quirks," said Jiro, "you can fly now? We kind of went along with it at the time, but that's kind of different from a sensory quirk."

"I know," said Izuku, "and I have no explanation."

"Maybe your quirk stockpiles danger," said Monoma, contemplatively. He rubbed his chin with one finger. "That could be why you can sense danger- you're stockpiling it. Then, when the danger gets over a certain threshold, you can release it as flight… why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Oh, nothing," drawled Kaminari. "Just that you're more thoughtful than you look, pretty boy."

"I don't want to hear that from you."

"Th-thank you, Monoma! I'll have to mention it when I go to quirk counseling next."

Which may or may not be this afternoon, depending on how Mr. Aizawa felt and- His head snapped to the door. "Mr. Aizawa's coming!"

They all rushed to their seats. The door creaked open.

"Oh my gosh, he's a mummy."

.

"Iida?"

"What is it, Midoriya?"

They were having a bit of a break during English while Present Mic cycled them through for short sessions with Hound Dog.

"I didn't have a chance to ask you earlier, but how's your brother?"

“He’s alright! It’s the first really major injury of his career, so he’s going to take it easy for the rest of the month, to make sure his engines heal properly. He’d prefer not to of course, but, ah, there is a silver lining.”

“That’s good,” said Izuku, encouragingly.

“I really shouldn’t be happy about it,” said Iida, rubbing the back of his neck, “but he’ll be able to come see me during the sports festival, and he probably would have been too busy if he were active.”

“I think it’s okay to be happy about good things, even if they happen because of bad things,” said Izuku. “It isn’t like we can go back and make the bad things not happen, after all…”

“That’s very true, Midoriya! What a mature way of thinking about things.”

Izuku didn’t know about that, but he was willing to take the compliment.

.

“Midoriya,” said Shouta, who was absolutely and unquestionably recovered enough to teach. Even if he had zoned out in the corner of the room in his sleeping bag all morning rather than trekking back to the teacher’s lounge… or teaching any of his other classes… shut up. “What are you doing at the window?”

“O-oh. Mr. Aizawa. I didn’t know you were awake?”

It was, maybe, a little unfair to single Midoriya out like that, since the entire class was standing by the window, and the way Uraraka, Sero, and Midoriya were closest to it, with Monoma a close fourth, was concerning, but Midoriya was the first one Shouta saw, and the one most likely to to cave and tell him what was going on.

“Midoriya.”

“R-right. Well, going out the door seems a little unpleasant today, so we thought we’d switch it up?”

What did that even mean?

“We were going to bring you with us, of course,” continued Midoriya.

What did that even mean?

“Out the window.”

“Um. Yes.”

“What kind of unpleasant are we talking about?”

“Battle trial unpleasant?”

Shouta groaned and hauled himself up, walking over to the door. He looked out the window and made note of all the students from other classes standing out there, circling like sharks. Great. Maybe they needed to have an assembly about respecting boundaries or whatever, especially if the people whose boundaries were being crossed were potentially traumatized.

Something to bring up at the next staff meeting he attended. Which… would probably not be soon.

Anyway.

He opened the door.

(“A mummy,” whispered someone.)

(First his kids, then these kids… he wasn’t that wrapped up.)

(Was he?)

“What are you all doing here?” he asked, voice rasping rather more than he wanted it to.

The students didn’t seem inclined to answer. Someone did mutter something about the sports festival, but it was far from the complete answer that Aizawa wanted.

“Right. Whatever. Scoping out the competition is one thing, but you are aware that class 1-A is recovering from a traumatic experience. And you’re blocking traffic. Clear off.”

The crowd slowly dispersed. Shouta sighed. He knew this would only be the first of many such incidents. He made a note to talk to Nemuri about whether or not she’d be willing to donate some of her class time to talk about public relations.

.

“You know,” said Nemuri, “if you actually rested, Recovery Girl would be able to heal you.”

“I know nothing of the sort,” said Shouta, glaring at his desk in the staff room. “I’m forgetting something.”

All Might walked in. “Er, young Aizawa,” he said. He paused for a painfully long, awkward moment. “Are you still meeting with young Midoriya today?”

“Crap.”

.

Did Izuku expect Mr. Aizawa to come to their meeting? No. The man had casts on all of his limbs. But, he hadn’t cancelled it either. So, better safe than sorry, right?

But it had been a while, now. Izuku could probably safely assume he wasn't coming after a half hour. He got up, packed his bags, and reached out for the door handle-

Only to freeze as Mr. Aizawa yanked it open and pulled Mr. Yagi into the classroom after him.

Izuku scurried back to his seat.

"Nothing physical today," croaked Mr. Aizawa. "We're going to figure out your quirk."

“O-okay,” said Izuku.

Aizawa collapsed into the seat behind the teacher's desk. “To be short, this quirk, One for All or whatever, is complete nonsense.”

“Uh,” said Mr. Yagi. “Sorry?”

“Sorry,” whispered Izuku.

“You should be. Not you, Midoriya. You’re fine.”

“Okay?”

“Right. So. You’ve got two quirks right now. Danger Sense and Float. Unless something else showed up over the weekend?”

“No, it’s, um, it is just those two right now.”

“And you’ll most likely get Smokescreen, Blackwhip, and that strength enhancement eventually. Plus two mystery quirks.”

“That is what I’ve been able to find out,” said Mr. Yagi.

“So, we have to figure out some way to get all those under a coherent umbrella that can account for the mystery quirks, and before the sports festival, so the evil immortal supervillain doesn’t notice that you have quirks just like a bunch of people he had personal beef with.”

Mr. Yagi cursed in English. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Yeah, I wonder what else you haven’t thought about. Maybe this year I can get Nezu to take my suggestion about doing hero names before the sports festival seriously. You know we’ve had people stalk students before because for some godforsaken reason we use their real names? I need a drink.”

“Ah, water?”

“No.”

“Young Aizawa, you’re a teacher…”

“A career choice I question daily. Midoriya, do you have any thoughts about how to make your quirk make sense in a way that won’t get you killed or abducted by the HPSC?”

“I- Does that happen?” despite his conversation with Mr. Yagi over the weekend, he still had generally positive thoughts about the hero commission.

“I have no idea. Wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Well, um, I was talking to Monoma earlier, and he said something about stockpiling danger, and how it might let out the stockpile as the energy necessary to levitate- which, really, would be a fascinating quirk if it did work that way- but I thought it might also work for Smokescreen and the strength enhancement? I mean, general responses to danger are fight, flight, or hide, so the strength enhancement is fight, Float is flight, and Smokescreen would be hide…”

“That might work. What about Blackwhip.”

“Yeah, that one has kind of stumped me.”

“Blackwhip sure is a problem,” agreed Mr. Aizawa.

.

The ghosts started laughing. “You’re a problem, Banjo,” chortled Nana.

“Come on, guys, that isn’t funny!”

"It is! It's hilarious!"

"They were just talking about All for One tracking the kid down and killing him!"

The mood sobered quickly.

"Considering that he is Ninth's father," said Hikage, "I suspect it's far too late for that."

"Yeah," said Yoichi. "But, just to be safe, and in case there are other weirdos out there, new rule: no giving him new quirks in public. Not that we can do anything about when he eventually manifests the stockpile…"

"What if he's going to die?" asked Hikage, raising his hand.

"He already got your quirk, why do you care?"

"We'd like to hear it," said Banjo, somewhat forcefully.

"Well, if he looks like he's going to die, do whatever you can to stop that from happening, I guess. But chucking a quirk he doesn't know how to use isn't always going to be the beat answer."

"Wait," said Nana. "Hold up a second. A few days ago we were talking about the potential for multiple quirk brain damage, weren't we?"

"Oh, good catch," said Yoichi. "I guess I forgot to mention it, which means Nana is the only one I'd trust babysitting my nephew in the event a quirk rewound him to elementary school age-"

"That is a suspiciously specific scenario," said En.

"-and all the rest of you are fired. You didn't even question giving him more quirks? Really?"

Hikage raised his hand. "I assumed you had discovered that Ninth had a constitution capable of handling multiple quirks, similar to yourself and your brother."

"That is true. Okay, Hikage would be another exception, but he's disqualified from babysitting for other reasons."

"That's fair."

.

"So we need something that can do all that, and has tentacles," said Izuku, squeezing his bottom lip in thought.

"Yeah," said Mr. Aizawa. "Honestly, even really dumb ideas would be welcome right now."

"Why are you looking at me?" asked Mr. Yagi.

"You know why."

There was only one creature Izuku could think of that could do all the things Izuku one day might be able to while maintaining room for the two mystery quirks. "Cthulhu."

Mr. Yagi looked mildly scandalized at the suggestion.

"Nah, it'd have to be something like eldritch. Cthulhu's trademarked in Japan, and that can give you aboveground types trouble."

"What is it a trademark for?" asked Mr. Yagi.

"Ask Midnight. I don't want to talk about it."

"Ah," said Mr. Yagi.

"The problem with that is that you currently have no justification to call it that. Now if you already had Smokescreen…"

The adults looked at him.

"... I don't think it's going to just show up like that," said Izuku.

.

"Why not?" asked Banjo, staring at En. "They practically asked you for it."

"Well, first off, I live for drama, so jot that down."

"Huh? What about me?" asked Yoichi.

"Nothing, it was just an idiom. Second…"

.

"...Right," said Aizawa. “For now, then, we’ll have to give it a temporary name, because it’s starting to get to the point in time where it’ll actually be illegal for you to not register it.” He shuffled his casts. “Yagi, start filling out those forms with what he can do currently. Midoriya, make sure you check him when he’s done. For now, we’ve got to come up with a name.”

“Um,” said Izuku. “Float’s the only one that’s really visible, so I could just call it Float?”

“Vetoed. You aren’t picking a name that the immortal supervillain knows.”

“He did seem to only refer to people by quirks unless he really hated them,” said Mr. Yagi. “Except his brother, who he always called ‘my foolish brother.’”

“Focus on the paperwork.”

“And he called himself by his quirk name as well,” mused Izuku. “Do you think it was a side effect? Quirks have document impact on people’s personalities-”

“Focus.”

“R-right. Um. Feather Fall? No, that’s part of a game. Flight Reflex?”

“Good enough for now,” said Aizawa. “Flight Reflex it is.”

[snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales]

Blue Moon - Part 7

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.) There is some show related violence referenced in this one, so, like always, check the masterlist if you need a heads up about the warnings. But this one is mostly just fluff and some angst. Though, arguably, like the season, this one may be a bit heavier. (And thank you to the amazing @trexrambling for coming up with the lines in bold during one of our chats just for fun, that was too perfect to not include.)

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 4,390

Xxx

“What do you mean there isn’t a body?” you asked Stiles over the phone, walking back to your house with Derek. You had expected it to be like twisting his arm to talk him into coming back with you, but he surprisingly agreed almost immediately.

“I don’t know, they just called us to come up to the school. Apparently she went into another fugue state or something….” You heard the gears shift, the engine of the jeep coming to a stop over the line. “Look, we’re here. Just, keep your eyes open, please.”

“Will do.” You cleared your throat. “Please keep me updated.” You stared straight ahead as you ended the phone call.

“You didn’t tell him about finding me,” Derek mused from your side.

“They have enough going on right now. Plus, you didn’t say you were ready to be ‘found’ yet, so I omitted certain truths.”

Staring at the ground as you both continued in silence, you made it to your front porch before you realized you didn’t have your keys. Reaching under the front mat, Derek produced the spare key. “It didn’t take much searching,” he answered your raised eyebrow of question.

Once inside, Derek let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I’ll admit, something has felt off about Jennifer from the beginning. I didn’t want to admit it, but you’re right.”

“You didn’t want to admit something felt weird, or that I was right?” You smiled at him, taking the groan he gave as the answer. “We’ll finish this conversation in a minute. First we need to change clothes. We are both covered in…. woods.” Derek snorted a laugh, nodding in agreement.

As you started up the stairs to your room, you looked over your shoulder in question as he fell in step behind you. “Okay. What’s up, Derek?”

“My bag is in your room. I’ve…. been sleeping on the floor.”

“I thought you only came by here twice?” You opened the door to your room, seeing his duffel bag sitting on your bed with clothes pouring out the sides of it and onto your comforter.

“Yeah, that was a lie. It’s the only place I could think of where no one would bother me.” He grabbed a change of clothes before walking back out of the room, stopping at the door with his back to you. “Plus, I’m used to you being at the loft. Having your scent around was calming, and helped me think straight.” With that he left the room, softly shutting the door.

Looking to the makeshift bed he had on the floor, you noticed various things with your scent laying close by, and you smiled. Examining the room further, you realized the majority of your clothes were at the loft or at Stiles’, which left you with only one other option.

“Are those...are those my sweatpants?”

Looking down at the base of the stairs as you slowly made your way down, you saw Derek, wide eyed, and was that the beginning of a blush on his cheeks?

You shrugged. “You said I could borrow your clothes.”

Reaching inside the shirt that was massive on you, you cinched the drawstring on the pants even tighter, contemplating making it into a belt instead.

Making it to the final step, you hopped off of it to the main floor, looking Derek straight on.

Derek looked down at your feet. “Exactly how many times did you-”

“Seven. These have been rolled up seven times. I almost died going down the stairs.”

The grin working it’s way up his face was very contagious, and you found it spreading to your face as well. “All my stuff is at the loft or the Stilinski’s, so, I figured I’d take you up on your offer.”

“Well, it’s a look I could get used to,” Derek said easily, before stuttering, “um, I mean, yeah. Yeah. Whatever you need. It looks good on you.”

You plopped into a chair in the living room, him gently sitting in the one opposite you. “So, Jennifer. You think something isn’t right?”

Derek, still smiling, shook his head gently at you and sighed. “Yes.”

“What is making you say that now?”

“You.” Tilting your head at him questioningly, he grinned again, looking down at the floor. “What you said today. It’s instinct.” He looked up, meeting your eyes on the last word, and you both held the other’s gaze for a few moments in the comfortable silence.

“So let’s test your theory,” you mused. “Show up at school tomorrow, I’ll stay close by and see if anything seems overtly out of place-”

“You have classes-”

“Derek. I finally found you again. I’m not letting you out of my sight for the foreseeable future.”

He relented, leaning back in the chair.

“Text her and tell her you want to meet up before lunch. Meet her in the alcove by the fields, none of the pack will see you there, and then you are welcome to come back here.” You hesitated. “Not with her, though. That goes without saying. But I felt it needed saying. Just to be clear. Moving on.” He smirked as you continued. “While you talk to her, I’ll stay right behind the wall and listen to her heartbeat and see if I pick up on anything. You pay attention to the physical cues.”

“With her scent being so…. off, what do you think she is?” Derek said on a huff of air.

“Do you think she’s the Darach?”

His eyes widened and he looked away for a second before looking back to you, resigned. “As of today, it’s crossed my mind.”

“Why today?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s just the first time I was able to think clearly in a long time. Since she came around, really.”

You gestured to the room around you. “Well, my life is a Jennifer free zone, so feel free to use it to your advantage.” Smiling, you held his gaze once again, both of your grins lazy and comfortable.

This time, you sighed. “I’m sorry, Derek. I really didn’t want to be right about this-”

“Yes you did.” He raised his eyebrows at you challengingly. “I’m not blind, Y/N.”

“Well, that may be, but I never wished you would find the devil and start dating her.” He glared at you. “You know, you seem to have a pattern.” He rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t Kate, like, psychotic?”

“That was a low blow.” You smirked at him, but it slipped when he smirked right back. “And what does that say about you?”

You choked on your own spit. “Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.” He tilted his head back onto the chair, closing his eyes and grinning triumphantly, hands knit together and resting on his chest.

You launched a pillow at him, letting out a cry of triumph when it hit him square in the face, startling him. His head snapped back up. “No need to be freaking rude.”

Derek curled up with the pillow, a smug look on his face. “Derek? Can I have that pillow back? This chair is lumpy.” Your voice was small.

“You should have thought of that before hurling it at me.” He got up and plopped down on the couch, letting out a sigh of content as he stretched, still holding the pillow close, smug grin still all over his face.

Getting up, you went over to him, reaching for the pillow, but he turned away, tucking it under him, clutched tight in his grip. You paced back and forth a few times, hands on your hips, before you turned to go back and try again, tripping on one of the legs of his pants that had started to come unfolded in all the movement, and launching at him with unexpected force.

He let out an oof as you landed on his chest, his head snapping your way to try and guess your next move.

“Well. This is unexpected,” you said tightly. You looked at as much of him as you could see, propped on your elbows awkwardly on his shoulder as he lay slightly sideways away from you. “You’re squishy enough, I’ll just use you as my pillow.”

Laying your head down on his shoulder, you could have sworn you heard his heart rate pick up, making you smirk. Suddenly you were laying with your head on the pillow as it rested on his chest, the rest of you flush with his body, one of your legs slotting between his and the other between his leg and the couch.

Sighing with contentment into the pillow, you had just gotten comfortable when the pillow disappeared, your head falling down to his chest with a thump, ear over his racing heart. Looking up at him through your lashes, you saw him tucking the pillow under his head, and his eyes closed. He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, covering you both and taking a sniff of the top of your head in what he probably thought was a subtle way as he did.

“I think you have a type, alright,” you mused quietly. “Dangerous - snore and all bets are off.”

“Same goes for you - drool and I find a way to give you fresh hell when we go back to training regularly.”

“I don’t drool!” You pulled slightly away from him.

“I don’t snore.” He settled further into the couch, one arm wrapping around your waist.

After a brief stare off, you mumbled, “Fine. Truce?”

“Truce.” He smiled.

“You’re unbelievable,” you grumbled into his chest.

“Thank you. I try.”

You could hear the smile in his tone, and it was the last thing you registered before drifting off to sleep.

Xxx

You were reliving it again. The fight with Kali. Just before the dream turned in a bad way, your phone ringing and vibrating across the coffee table beside you woke you up with a start. Glancing down at Derek who looked sleepily up at you, you mouthed a sorry before answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Where the hell are you, Y/N?” Stiles’ angry voice made you pull the receiver away from your ear, your face scrunched up in pain. Putting it on speaker and placing it back on the coffee table, you sighed, holding your head in your hands, elbows braced on Derek’s chest.

“Stiles, I’m so sorry, I-”

“I almost had my dad start a search for you!”

Derek nudged you, making you look down at him, ignoring Stiles’ incessant repeating of your name. He gestured to the phone, whispering, “It’s okay. Tell them you found me.”

“Are you sure?” you whispered, and he nodded.

Laying your hands on Derek’s chest, his arm still firmly around your waist, you placed your cheek on the back of your hands and looked at the phone as you spoke. “Are you alone, Stiles?”

The line was silent as his constant speech stopped. “Why?”

“I just want to talk to you without supernatural ears around, that’s all. It’s need to know at the moment.”

You heard Stiles fumbling around, closing doors and running faucets on his way from his room down to his kitchen - you knew by the floor board squeaks, he could never avoid them - and looked to Derek when his arm tightened around your waist.

“They can all know,” he said softly.

“I’m going with my gut, Derek. The less people know, the better. Jennifer will feel more special, and probably open up more. Plus, Scott’s got his own problems right now.” It sounded like Stiles was finally reaching the kitchen when you added softly to Derek, “Plus, I know you like to make an entrance.”

You both smirked and Stiles came back on the line. “I’m home alone with my dad, but I turned on every faucet between my room and the kitchen in case we have any lurkers outside.”

“Why is every faucet on?” You heard the Sheriff in the background, walking from room to room, and you smiled. He could be such a light sleeper.

“Talk fast,” Stiles rushed into the phone.

“I found Derek. We found the Nemeton but lost it again. We’re back at my place so no one will look for him. We have a plan, and we’re gonna try something tomorrow at school, I’ll give you details after. Nothing dangerous-” you looked up at Derek- “at least, I don’t think.” You looked back to the phone. “Just me and him, for some info gathering, then probably back here, and we’ll go from there.”

“And the others couldn’t know about this why?” Stiles hissed into the phone, his father’s footsteps getting closer.

“Because, everyone is working on their own thing right now, and we can regroup after. I think we finally have all the puzzle pieces we need to get a picture.”

“Fine,” he huffed.

“For the record, that’s my idea to bring him to school for info, and my idea to only tell you. He said others could know. I just thought it best that less know for now.”

“That actually makes sense. I agree. Okay, fill me in as soon as you know more, please. But I don’t know how long him being gone will be helpful.”

“You got it.”

“Wait…. You found the Nemeton?”

“Go to sleep, Stiles. I’ll fill you in later.”

“They found a what?” The Sheriff said in the background, voice heavy with sleep.

“Uhhhhhh….” Stiles failed to answer.

“Just say shenanigans, Stiles.”

“I don’t even wanna know,” the Sheriff said, yawning, his footsteps retreating.

“Smooth, Stiles. Smooth.”

“Oh, just go back to sleep, Y/N.”

“Will do. Sorry I didn’t let you know I wouldn’t be back tonight.”

He sighed. “It’s okay. I was just worried, but it’s okay now that I know. Sleep well.”

“You, too.”

The call ended and your phone locked on its own, the room going dark once more, Derek startling you when you looked at him only to see bright red eyes staring back at you.

“You know very well you could see without those,” you mumbled, tucking your face back into his chest, digging your chin in a little more forcefully than necessary as you stared at him.

He grinned, no sign of them going anywhere as he blinked a few times. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Xxx

It was like something out of a movie.

Jennifer saw him standing in the tunnel, hesitating only a second before she realized it was him. She smiled and ran up to him, embracing him as she leapt into his arms, tucking her face into his neck, his face buried in her hair.

You watched until they kissed, and you had to look away before you made any gagging noises. You blamed Stiles for some of these reactions, you really did.

Derek kept his answers to a minimum, asking her to come with him for the day, and you felt your stomach drop. You knew it was an act, but the thought was just unsettling.

They kissed one more time, and you had to physically step back a few paces so you couldn’t peek around the corner and see them anymore. You were supposed to be listening to her heartbeat, but yours was so loud in your ears it was hard to focus. As far as you could make out, her heart was steady the whole time, not a single tick. And that’s what was the most concerning.

Between the kisses and shared words, hell, even the sight of each other, she should have had some sort of uptick or something.

You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you had eavesdropped on his heartbeat, too, and noticed his little upticks here and there.

You wanted to be wrong, just for his sake, but it looked more and more like she was up to something.

Looking one last time, you saw her turning away, their hands lingering on one another’s before falling away at the last possible second. She walked away confidently, tucking some of her hair behind her ear almost shyly as the wind swept errant leaves and her long loose tresses around her.

He turned and looked at you once she was out of sight, holding your gaze for only a moment before hanging his head and shaking it gently.

Walking up to him, your hands itched to reach out and comfort somehow, but felt it better to give him space, so you settled for touching the tips of your shoes to his, putting them in his line of sight. The smallest of smiles turned up his face when he noticed.

“I really hope you were listening to her heart rate, because all I could hear was yours.”

You felt your eyes go wide at the admission, the act of breathing something foreign. “Um, yes. Yes, I…” You looked up then down, then to the side before looking back at him, his head still hung, and you swallowed to try and get rid of any emotions in order to simply speak. “It didn’t change the whole time. Which I don’t have to tell you is an even bigger tell.” You gently shifted your weight from foot to foot. “You, on the other hand,” you spoke softly, “you had some major tells, and, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you keep getting dealt the shitty hand, and have to-”

You were cut off by his hands gently grabbing your face, tilting it back until your noses were touching like yesterday, and you could just feel the ghost of his lips over yours. Resting his forehead against yours, he let out a sigh that sounded both content and yet frustrated. You opened your eyes just in time to see his flick up to look at yours before a voice to the side jarred you from the moment.

“Hey, hooligans! Get back to class!”

You let out a decidedly frustrated sigh before answering, making Derek smile. “Yes, Coach!”

Pulling away, Derek tugged you by the hand back to the car.

You heard Coach mutter something about “delinquents” and “back in my day” before he was totally out of earshot.

“I finally understand why all the guys call him Coach Cockblock now….” you mumbled, making Derek snicker.

Xxx

Back at your house that evening, Derek had been unusually quiet, but you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence in any way. You just sat near him on the couch, both of you processing what today had revealed.

When you got a call from Stiles that Cora was in the hospital, you immediately looked to Derek and knew he had heard.

“Go,” you urged him, waving the hand not holding the phone in a shooing gesture.

“But tonight-”

“Everyone will be there at the concert, safety in numbers. And right now Cora is all alone. Go take care of your sister.”

Nodding, Derek practically jumped over the back of the couch, grabbed his coat, and was out the door in seconds.

“Y/N, Cora was about to show her eyes to my dad after I explained everything to him when she passed out. He’s gonna be at the concert tonight. Think you can use the glow sticks to help me prove a point?”

“Sure, Stiles. What else is a werewolf best friend for?”

He chuckled. “Okay. Fill me in when you get here about what all was accomplished with your and Derek’s secret steakout today.”

“You make it sound like something sordid.”

“And until you tell me otherwise, these are the nightmares that play in my head.”

You laughed, grabbing your coat before stepping out the front door, locking it behind you. “Then suffer until I get there.”

Xxx

Once again, things turned super weird super fast. As soon as you got to the school, you felt a chill go down your spine, your eyes glowing of their own accord. Something was off, and you didn’t like it. Blinking away your golden eyes, you got out of the car, looking up and meeting Chris Argent’s gaze a few spaces away. He looked just as unnerved as you did, and that definitely didn’t sit well with you. Giving one another a nod in acknowledgment, he turned to follow after Allison and Isaac, and you met Stiles and Scott outside the auditorium.

Filling them in quickly, Scott was surveying the area for Lydia as you spoke. Suddenly, a scream was heard and you knew it was Lydia. You and Scott dropped to your knees with your hands over your ears, Stiles panicked and trying to help. You felt your phone buzzing in your pocket, and managed to stammer out, “My…. phone….” to a helpless looking Stiles. Immediately he fished it out and answered it, the screaming coming to an end. Scott was still on his knees and breathing deeply, and your own world was spinning as well. You removed your hands from your ears and placed your palms flat on the ground to try to find some balance again.

You heard Derek over the phone asking what’s going on when Scott abruptly took off towards the classrooms. Stiles sprinted after him, tossing you your phone, which you fumbled, before holding it to your ear and rising to your feet to take off after your friends.

“We don’t know, Derek. Lydia just screamed, Scott took off for the classrooms, Stiles is right behind him, and I’m the last one on this crazy train. There is a whole other something crazy going on inside the auditorium from what I can hear, but right now I’m focused on Lydia. The others in there can take care of that. Call Isaac to find out what’s going on.”

“Be safe,” Derek said quickly, and you nodded before rolling your eyes, remembering he can’t see you.

“Will do. Thanks. Let me know if anything changes with Cora.”

“Of course,” he said, then you both hung up.

Stuffing your phone in your pocket, you screeched to a halt when you saw only Stiles, and he looked utterly lost. “What’s wrong?”

“Scott- he- he said he heard my dad, and-” Running his hands through his hair, Stiles was turning in circles, his heart hammering away as a panic attack brewed.

“Stiles.”

“And he just took off, Y/N!” Stiles yelled, his hands starting to gesture. “I couldn’t keep up, and now my dad-”

“Stiles, calm down. Remember you asked me to use my glow sticks to help you prove a point?” You flicked on your yellow eyes with a blink. “We’ll find them.”

Simply nodding, his face screwed up in fear and dread, Stiles followed behind you as you turned toward where you heard voices.

Despite an all out sprint, neither of you made it in time to get into the classroom, Jennifer slamming the desk against the door too easily for a human and holding it there with some sort of magic. No matter how hard both of you tried, you couldn’t make the desk or the door budge. You peeked through the corner of the little window in the door while Stiles watched on, taking up most of the frame.

Scott was coughing up blood on the floor, completely wolfed out, Lydia was in a chair crying, a garrote loose around her neck, and Jennifer was approaching the Sheriff slowly, a knife sticking out of his right shoulder. After some exchanged words, he shot her in the right leg, and you smirked, only for it to fade as the wound healed in seconds. She was going on and on about the sacrifices, how they helped her acquire certain traits like healing from the bullet the Sheriff had fired, and then she kissed him.

You couldn’t hold it back this time; you made gagging noises, trying desperately to keep your focus on the scene in the room though your eyes began to tear up as you fought the urge to vomit. You stopped breathing when Jennifer morphed into what you could only assume was the Darach before pulling away from the Sheriff, screeching, and jumping out the window, shattered glass going everywhere.

Stiles finally was able to push the door open, his strength surprising you as he shoved the desk back while opening it. The Sheriff was gone, and Scott and Stiles stared out the window in silence. They shared a look briefly before Stiles’ gaze returned to the window, his face a tight line, Scott looking on with concern.

Going over to Lydia, you helped her get free of the bindings of the chair, tearing the duct tape away like it was nothing, and then the garrote, pulling her up and into a hug as soon as the offending thing had been tossed onto the desk beside you.

“I found it in time for you guys to do something about it. I didn’t find a body. If I had just been a few minutes sooner we could have-”

“Lydia.” You pulled away, gripping her hands to turn her attention from Scott to you. “You were right on time. You’re right. You didn’t find a body, and because of that we know who is doing this, and there’s still a chance that the Sheriff will be just fine. We caught her off guard, thanks to you.” You grabbed her biceps and squeezed gently. “Just, next time, maybe a little quieter? The room still is sort of spinning.”

The pack started to fill up the room, and you saw police car lights starting to reflect off the shattered glass around the space.

Going over to Stiles, you gave Scott a sad look before you both stepped up beside your friend, one on each side. You bumped Stiles’ shoulder with your own. “We’ll get him, Stiles. We’ll bring him back.” You spoke softly, leaning into his shoulder just as gently. “I know it.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I made a promise.” He looked at you, his face void of any one emotion. “I have to help you prove a point.” You blinked your yellow eyes on for a few seconds before blinking them off. “What else is a werewolf best friend for?”

He smiled almost imperceptibly. “Okay.”

“And until we find her, or tell you otherwise, there are no nightmares that should play in your head. Please, plot away. Just know…. She will suffer when I get there.”

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra, @lilostif16, @wandas-love, @emily500, @babygirl-angel-love, @c-dizzle99, @itscheybaby, @fandomsfanman, @sunsetcurvej, @reichelhache, @shortimaginewriter What’s This?

[lsvdw-blog]

Not a Minute More: Part 2

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings; Rating: Mentions of a cyberattack, Angst; Teen+

Premise: MC's perspective on the day that rocks Ethan to his core and threatens to change his life.

Author’s Note: I was going to wait to post this, but I'm loving the flood of content we're getting rn, so I thought I'd hop on too. I cried writing this... I'm so sorry 😭. Part 1 here. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

~ Monday, 8:20am ~

"Good morning, Mike!" Serena greets the security guard right inside the door.

"Hey! How are ya? How's that Dr. Ramsey?"

"We're both doing well, thanks! How about you and the family?" She asks as she puts her phone in a cubby and unplugs the Wi-Fi enabler from her laptop.

"It was the wife and I's anniversary this weekend! We went to Martha's vineyard and saw the most beautiful proposal! You and Dr. R gonna get going on that soon? Aly has been talking about going to y'alls wedding since she met ya!" Mike gives a playful wink.

"Oh, congratulations! That's wonderful and send Aly my best wishes. But you'll have to talk to E on that one," she laughs before opening the door to a stairwell that leads to a classified area.

After keying in her pin, the door clicks open. She grabs a static protection lab coat, walks through the entrance, and is met with a plethora of state-of-the-art equipment. Floor-to-ceiling grey switch panels, curved monitors as far as the eye can see, and countless probes, clips, and wires.

She walks over to a few familiar faces. “Good morning! How’s it going?”

“Nice of you to finally join us! Dr. Ramsey keep you this morning?” Isla, one of the engineers, jests.

“I saw your check-in on the monitor — you walked in two minutes before me!”

“Those diagnostic skills at work, I see,” Isla retorts and they both laugh.

Isla had become a fast and faithful friend since Serena joined the project. They bonded quickly over both being minorities in the world of science and supported each other in every work facet. They had lunch together everyday and gradually, their work bond grew into a personal friendship as well. They’ve become so close that Isla now also regularly spends time with the original Edenbrook gang.

“Alright, enough chit chat. Let’s get this show on the road.”

The team nods and responds, “Yes, Doctor.”

~ 12:00pm ~

Serena exits the classified area with some colleagues and they all make their way to retrieve their phones.

"No new patients. Stuck in meetings and doing paperwork. I miss you and wish you were here."

She immediately breaks out into a large grin after reading Ethan's text and hits the dial button.

"Hey, ready for lunch?" Carmen, one of the lead scientists, asks.

Serena nods and moves her phone slightly away from her ear. "Be there in a minute. You guys go ahead."

She waits for a few more rings. He’s probably busy, I’ll call again later. She hangs up and makes her way to the cafeteria.

~ 12:40pm ~

"We did all the necessary prep work this morning to begin testing after lunch. Everything is looking good. We can begin running our tests since everyone is here. Are we all ready to begin?"

"Yes."

The system engineers are sitting at connected computer stations, inputting the required credentials to start. The rest of the team is standing behind them, waiting and nervously watching the screens. After a couple minutes of tense silence with nothing but the clack clack clack of keyboard keys, Vincenzo, one of the lead engineers, speaks up.

"This is weird… we're having some trouble accessing the necessary data. Did someone put up a firewall?"

Everybody looks around at each other, shaking their heads and muttering "no."

"Isla, are you seeing this? Can you get through?"

Isla continues to type, not saying anything. After a few more seconds, she turns to look at Vincenzo with a concerned expression. "I don't recognize some of the items in our system."

Just as she finishes her sentence, everyone's attention is pulled abruptly to a wall monitor on the right as it starts showing nonsensical images and patterns. Two seconds later, an alarm goes off and a red warning light begins flashing within the building. Everyone's eyes go wide as realization dawns on them: they've been compromised and shelter-in-place has been activated.

~ 12:55pm ~

Everyone begins to evacuate the classified lab area, grabbing their phones on the way out, and peering through the one-way windows. They can occasionally hear Mike speaking rapidly into the phone with a 911 dispatcher, when he's not being drowned out by shouts from colleagues.

On the descent to the bunker, the tension is palpable. Individuals clutch onto each other, others try frantically to reach loved ones, and some are in complete disbelief and shock. As they all descend the five flights of the winding staircase to the basement, windows are no longer available, but the ceiling bulbs keep flickering on and off. Each time it happens, everyone stops in their tracks, ducks down on instinct, and picks up the pace when the lights come back on.

~ 1:15pm ~

The entrance to the Harvard labs bunker is protected by a vault door that has a counter system. When the system is in place, the door can be opened once for people to get in. Once it's been closed, it can only be opened when there's one person on either side working together — it's futile with only one person. The only other way it can be opened is by shutting down the counter system from the outside, with the correct override pin, which only a handful of the most trusted team members know.*

As the vault door comes into sight, the wheel on the outside is turned, and the door opens with a whoosh. People slowly start filing in and head towards the back. However, not everyone can stay in the safety of the bunker. In case of an emergency, the project they’re working on must be erased, to protect it from falling into the wrong hands. Certain people have been assigned particular instructions to delete specific portions.

Serena is one of them.

She's walking next to Isla and their arms are looped together. As Isla enters the bunker, Serena lets go of her arm, stopping at the threshold. Isla whips her head around.

"What are you doing?! Get in here!" She reaches for Serena’s arm.

Serena shakes her head. "I'm the only one currently here who knows the medical codes."

Isla's eyes are frantic in realization. "I'll go back with you! I'll be your lookout! You're not going alone!"

"You'll be safe here. This is my responsibility."

Serena reaches behind her neck and unclasps her gold necklace for the first time in 7 years. She grabs Isla's hand and places the jewelry into her palm, closing Isla's fingers around it.

Serena stares at their clasped hands. "In case anything happens," they both flinch at another flickering of lights. "Promise me that you'll get this to E."

Their eyes are locked now, having a silent battle: Isla begging her to stay and Serena finding the strength not to.

"Isla, promise me. Please." Serena squeezes Isla’s hand that much tighter.

Isla realizes that there's no use in fighting Serena. Risking her life to delete the project is part of the job. They all made a commitment and if the roles were reversed, Isla would be the one fighting to go back.

Isla slowly nods. "I promise, Serena. I promise. But do your best to keep yourself safe. Try and stay near the corners, away from any large equipment that could have aftershock effects, and—"

Serena shakes her slightly. "I know, Isla. We did take the same training," she smiles, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood, but Isla just stares gravely at her.

A booming sound rattles the building and Serena knows it's time to go. She gives Isla a quick hug, before pushing her backwards into the bunker. Before Isla has regained her footing, Serena has closed the bunker door with a resounding thud.

~ 1:30pm ~

On the way back to the classified area, Serena takes out her phone. Ethan hasn't returned her earlier call. Her heart is pounding and with trembling hands, she hits the call button on Ethan's contact card for the second time in less than two hours. After a few rings, his voice comes through.

"You've reached Dr. Ethan Ramsey. I apologize for missing your call. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."

Just as she’s about to start speaking, the lights go down for good. "Hey E," she tries her best to keep her voice from shaking. She puts the call on speaker, places the phone out in front of her, and turns the flashlight on. "I don't know when this will hit the news, but we're currently under cyberattack. I don't know from who or what, but they’ve already gotten into our mainframe and power supply. Everyone has sheltered-in-place and is awaiting further instructions." She takes a deep breath as she inches down a corridor.

"Everyone except me, Vincenzo, and Carmen. We’re the only three here right now trained to completely delete the project in the event something like this happened. I'm walking back to the lab as I speak."

Serena rounds a corner and the lab comes into view. Thinking about what she has to say next, silent tears stream down her face.

"Ethan, sweetheart, I need you to know that the last eight months by your side have been the absolute best eight months of my entire life. You are the light of my existence and mean everything to me." She lets out a deep breath. "I wish I could hear your voice right now… I'm really scared. But I made a commitment, so I need to go back in and finish the job. If something happens, know that you are unequivocally the love of my life and the one for me. I know we haven't talked about it yet, but know that I want to spend forever with you as your wife and have you be the father of my children." She sniffs and continues, "you would be a fantastic husband and dad."

She comes to a stop in front of the keypad located right outside the lab and swallows past the lump in her throat. "But if the universe has other plans for me, I'll be waiting for you and I can't wait to spend forever with you in the next life. This isn't how I wanted to tell you, but until next time, whenever that is, I love you so much, Ethan Jonah Ramsey, more than words could ever properly convey."

She ends the phone call with tear-filled eyes, stashes her phone on a nearby workbench, punches in her key, and enters the classified area one more time.

~~~~~~

*Disclaimer: I have no idea if Harvard labs has a bunker and if they do, what kind of door/system they utilize. This is all purely AU!

[dearkusuo]

Ch. 1 ☆ Last Christmas

Synopsis: You were intent on avoiding your ex-boyfriend all of winter break, however, your mom and her best friend had other plans lined up for you.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x reader

Tags: college au, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2.7k

m.list ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 1 ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 2

Thick clouds painted the darkening sky a dull grey while streetlights began to glow over the horizon. The cold air bit the skin on your cheeks, tinting them a shade of red the moment you stepped out of the car you parked by the curb. Your fingers fumbled to button up the coat you wore as a chill ran down your frame. 

You opened up the trunk to take out your belongings stored inside, promptly closing it shut soon after. The siren of your vehicle went off once as you locked it up, and you trotted to your porch, suitcase trailing behind while you dragged it along. 

 Flashy decorations were displayed all over your front lawn, and colourful lights were strung on the tiles of your roof. You resignedly shook your head at the extravagant presentation. 

Your parents tended to be overly zealous when it came to Christmas decorations. You’ve known that for as long as you can remember, but it didn’t make you any less hesitant to see the setup they arranged for the interior. 

Your hand drifted over the doorbell, leaving it extended in the air for a long moment. You hoped they remembered that you no longer have a house key and got home from work early. The sound of the bell rang aloud as you pressed the buzzer.

You instinctively flinched back when the door flung open seconds later. Your mother let out a squeal, wrapping her arms around you in excitement while you returned the tight embrace, a small grin gracing your lips. She hastily pulled you inside when a gust of wind passed by, causing you both to shiver. The change of temperature warmed your frigid body.

 The living room was lavishly accentuated with festive ornaments, just as you thought. Silver tinsel outlined the furniture while a heavily adorned Christmas tree noticeably stood at a corner of the room. Red stockings and green holly wreaths hung on the wall and the smell of gingerbread filled your nostrils.

Your brows lifted in surprise when you spotted your next-door neighbour sitting comfortably on your couch.

“This is unexpected,” you uttered.

Your mother’s best friend, Mrs. Saiki, stood up and ambled her way to you. She took your palms in her grip and greeted you with a hello.

"How long has it been?" She wondered.

"About a year," you answered plainly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

She brought both her hands over her lips to cover up a gasp. "It’s been that long? You really should come home more often."

A deep hum left your throat as you courteously nodded along in agreement. You turned your attention to your mother with a puzzled look on your face when she lightly tapped your shoulder 

“Before you arrived just now, Kurumi and I were thinking that it would be a great idea for us to spend the holidays together, so we decided to have a small party on Christmas Eve,” she mentioned cheerfully.

You gave another nod and replied casually, “Alright.” The two women often spent time in each other’s presence, so it wasn't unusual for them to plan on spending Christmas together. It was probably just a get-together they were having with the rest of their friends. “You two have fun then.”

“Actually, it will just be both of our families attending,” your mother corrected.

Your tone dropped an octave lower, “Oh?”. The implication that you had to be present heavily dripped from her words. Were they really expecting you to tag along with them?

"We thought it would be a great idea since you don’t come home a lot, and all of us hardly see each other anymore."

“Kusuo just returned from college this morning, and even Kusuke is visiting for a while,” Mrs. Saiki blurted out excitedly.

"It'll be like old times," your mother added.

Like old times. When your families always spent time together. When you were together. 

It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your mother and her friend happily beamed at each other, oblivious of your deteriorating mood. The turn of events left you unwilling to participate in the conversation any longer.

"I gotta go unpack,” you announced. 

“Of course, you must’ve had a long day,” Mrs. Saiki exclaimed.

“It was nice seeing you again,” you conceded, keeping up a polite smile. She gave your hand a final pat before you retreated.

"Your dad is upstairs. You should go see him first," your mother suggested.

You mumbled an acknowledgement as you marched up the second floor with your luggage in tow. As was requested, you gave a quick greeting to your father before you entered your room.

The familiar space was left in a spotless and tidied condition that led you to believe that your parents regularly dusted and maintained it in your absence. Your bedsheet was neatly tucked in without a wrinkle to be seen, and your shelves were conveniently organized. Frantically, you went through your desk drawers to check if they had snooped through your personal belongings. 

You faltered once you opened the last compartment. The sight of a wrapped present left untouched caused you to momentarily pause in shock. Your handwriting was scribbled out in black sharpie on the gift wrap, addressing it to Saiki Kusuo. 

You never did get the chance to give it to him. Closing the drawer, you made a mental note to throw it out when you got the chance. 

 You looked out the window in musing. He must’ve known that you were coming back today. The dark, dull sky was tainted white by the snowflakes that began to descend to the ground.

You padded down the stairs late in the morning. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. Your father sat on the couch, watching the broadcast that was showing on the TV.

"Hey," he said with a wave of his hand. He briefly looked at you before returning his attention to the news channel. You gave a simple greeting in return.

"I made plans to meet with Chiyo and Kokomi today. We're eating out, so I'll be back in a few hours," you explained, already halfway to the exit.

"Alright,” your father responded idly, keeping his eyes trained on the screen. “Your mom and I made plans with the neighbours as well. We might not be home by the time you get back."

"Got it," you called from outside the door frame. You made your way to your car, hopping on the driver’s seat and revving the engine to life with a twist of the ignition.

The drive took a little longer than it usually would have, as the weather from the previous night left a thin layer of ice covering the road. Fortuitously, you had snow tires installed on your automobile beforehand, ensuring that you made it to your destination safely.

Your friends were already occupying a booth by the time you arrived at the diner. They bombarded you with conversation the moment you sat down, anxious to know what you’ve been doing for the past few months. You apprehensively informed them of what your mother and her best friend had planned for Christmas Eve.

"That's not gonna end well," Kokomi remarked.

"Tell me about it. What were they thinking?" Chiyo griped. "You’d think they’d know how awkward it would be for you and Saiki since you two are, you know, exes."

"I don't think they care," you grumbled in a distressed tone.

You crossed your arms over your chest, brooding over the unwanted encounter that was sure to happen.

"So, what are you gonna do?" Kokomi asked.

You shrugged wearily before responding, "I’ll probably stay for a bit, then dip whenever I can." 

There was a high chance that you’d somehow get roped back into the party, but you currently didn’t have any other solutions to your dilemma. Anything was fine as long as you could spend as little time with him as possible.

A ruminating silence fell between the three of you.

“When did you guys break up again?” Chiyo inquired.

“Last year, on winter break. Around this time of the season.” 

You directed your focus on the plate of food you ordered as memories of the previous December flooded your mind. Your nose crinkled in concentration.

“It must’ve been hard for you guys to be in a long-distance relationship,” Chiyo pronounced with a long sigh.

The distance was never an issue for the two of you since he could teleport to your location anytime.

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

 Towards the end of the relationship, it felt like you were the only one who cared enough to keep things afloat. You gave it your all while he usually lacked the initiative to make an effort out of the limited time your college workload would allow.

But it’s not like everything was his fault. You had to admit that you often pushed past his comfort zone when he was content with just spending the day peacefully at home with you.

It was your dynamic that ultimately convinced you to break up with him. The two of you simply weren’t compatible together. 

You quietly chewed on your food as you listened to the carefree chatter of Kokomi and Chiyo.

You parked the car by the curb of your house. Snowflakes fluttered to the ground once again as you stepped out of the driver’s seat. You hurriedly walked to your front door, eager to get out of the freezing weather. 

There was no response when you rang the buzzer.

You let out a frustrated groan as you remembered your dad saying no one would be home when you returned. They didn’t even bother to leave a spare key for you.

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts to seek temporary shelter from a friend. Chiyo would only pry into your love life again, and you didn’t like running into Kokomi's brother. 

At this point, your best option was to stay in a random store for the next couple of hours. Your teeth began to chatter as you walked back to the front gate, ready to start your car once again.

"Oh? Look who we have here."

Your head intuitively whipped around to the source of the voice. A man with pale blonde hair strode towards you. The headgear on his head strikingly stood out.

"Kusuke? What are you doing here?" you queried.

He cocked his head to one side at your bewildered gaze.

"Did nobody tell you I was visiting for a few weeks?” 

Your eyes widened in realization as you recalled the previous night when Mrs. Saiki passingly declared that her eldest son would be returning for the holidays.

“Are you locked out?" he probed, observing your shivering frame.

You nodded timidly, unconsciously pulling your coat tighter over your torso.

"Why don't you come stop by for a bit while you wait for your parents?"

You grimaced. Knowing Kusuo, he was probably at home, minding his own business, and an interruption from both you and his brother would only put him in a foul mood. Likewise, you’d rather avoid him if you could help it.

"No, that's fine. I'll just wait at a friend's house," you insisted, shaking your head in refusal. 

"But I'm guessing none of your friends are available."

You gritted your teeth. It was always difficult to break free from Kusuke’s snare. Judging by the smirk that crept on his face, he knew that his assumption was correct. Reluctantly, you let him usher you into the Saiki residence.

Kusuke offered you a cup of tea while you patiently sat on the couch. The heat it emanated warmed your numb fingers back to life. Your eyes roamed the living room that was decorated so extravagantly, it rivalled your own. At the back of your mind, you wondered if Kusuo had teleported someplace else while you remained in his house.

 Kusuke asked you simple questions about your college experience, people you met, and your part-time job. He was being polite enough that you almost felt bad for anticipating he'd ruin the moment by being his usual overbearing self.

"Are you seeing anyone at the moment?" Kusuke inquired.

There it is. 

You didn't see how that was any of his business. A short pause lingered between you two as you kept your mouth shut. You quirked an eyebrow up in bewilderment, waiting to see where he was getting at.

"Why don't you consider going out with me?" He grinned mischievously.

"That's a lame joke, even for you," you retorted.

"How can you be so sure that I'm joking?"

You scowled at him. Kusuke didn't like people. That was enough for you to believe that he was fooling around just to get a reaction out of you. 

'What do you think you're doing?' a familiar voice rang in your mind, provoking your muscles to tense up and your jaw to lock.

He appeared out of thin air. The sight of green lenses and antennae poking out of pink hair caused you to internally panic.

"Kusuo, I was just having a chat with our lovely neighbour here." Kusuke gestured to you.

'Seems like harassment to me,' Kusuo scoffed.

"Don't be like that. It’s not like I had any ulterior motives." Kusuke chuckled. He turned to you again and imparted with a smile, "Don't take anything I've said to heart. I was just teasing you."

You figured as much, but you still couldn't help the annoyed huff you let out. 

"Did you come down here because you were feeling left out? Do you wanna join in?" Kusuke asked his little brother in a disdaining tone.

Kusuo glared at the blonde man as he quipped, 'No. I’m here to tell you to be quiet. I can hear you from upstairs.' He shifted his attention to you. The blank expression on his face caused you to fidget under his gaze.

"I got locked out of my house, so Kusuke invited me to stay here while I wait for my parents to come home," you rambled, glancing down at your lap. Although he probably already knew that.

'I'll unlock the door for you.' 

Kusuo's footsteps lightly echoed off the wooden floor. You looked up after a few seconds to see him waiting expectantly for you by the exit.

Placing down the unfinished cup of tea on the coffee table, you scrambled up from the couch. You waved goodbye to Kusuke before following his younger brother outside, softly trudging on the snow beside him.

“You look well,” you commented.

Kusuo only gave you a curt nod, a strained silence following soon after.

What did you expect? He wouldn’t bother wasting time on small talk with his ex when he was already so eager to kick you out of his house.

Both of you halted when you reached your porch. The sound of a click went off as Kusuo's hand hovered over the lock.

“Thank you,” you politely murmured, letting out a sigh in gratitude. You brazenly stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye. Kusuo's lips were pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were downcast, as though he were contemplating deeply. You thought nothing of it, returning your gaze forward.

Twisting the knob, you pushed the door open and stepped inside your home. You turned your head over your shoulder to say a coy goodbye, but no words escaped your lips.

He leaned into you, stopping a few inches from your face. Your breath caught in your throat at the intense look he gave you. Your heart skipped a beat as your body ignored your brain’s protests telling you to move.

‘Are you doing alright?’ he mused.

You could only nod in reply.

‘I see.’ 

His brows furrowed the slightest bit as he pulled back. If you hadn’t known him for years, you might not have noticed the flickering emotion on his face. You turned your body around to get a better look at him. 

Was he worried for you? It was a possibility. The two of you left on a bad note after all, and Kusuo never liked hurting someone’s feelings. Even if he didn’t care for that person anymore.

‘That’s not the case.’

"Huh?"

He vanished before your sight, leaving you standing by the door frame. The cold air breezed into your home as you wondered what he meant.

[bbugyu]

hi can i request a wonwoo friends to lovers!!

abso-fuckin-tutely! since you were a lil vague, i asked my friendly neighborhood wonwoorideul for a prompt and she shouted out the song nothing by bruno major (aka one of the sweetest songs on wonwoo's spotify playlist)!

nothing + jeon wonwoo

moving in with your best friend was the best idea you ever had, even if he claimed it was his.

wc.3707 | fluff, angst, roommates/friends to lovers au, gn reader, like one swear and it barely counts bc it was hoshi, slowburn pining, wonwoo sees you and his mind is full of poetry, happy ending! (jp ver.)

thank you so much for my very first request! i tried to post this quickly, so i’m sorry if it’s not as polished as my other pieces. i was so impatient to get this out hahah. i love me some domestic wonwoo

*

wonwoo wasn't just your roommate, to be perfectly frank. the lanky guy had wormed his way into your close circle when you had worked part time together at a grocery store fresh out of high school, and when you both decided you needed to be closer to the big city, it just made sense to go together. you had never lived alone before, and your mother had said she would feel better if you had someone she knew around, someone to take care of you for her, even though you insisted you would be fine. she tried to get you to move in with your auntie, and while eating her food would be a definite plus, you absolutely despised the idea of living under the same roof as your chaotic cousin. so, when wonwoo mentioned wanting to get out of your podunk village, you excitedly told him you wanted to move to seoul.

"okay," he had said, looking at you over his comic book as he lounged on your family's couch. "let's go, then."

two months later, his dad was helping the two of you move into a tiny two bedroom apartment in a neighborhood of seoul that housed mostly old married couples, but you liked that it was a little more quiet than downtown. it felt more like home, but busy enough to give you your fill of the city. you could walk down the street to a cafe every morning on your way to the station, headed to your shitty temp desk job that you had just to pay bills. wonwoo was able to transfer to the main seoul office of his existing job as a software engineer, and was even able to work from home most days. you were forever jealous that he could hop onto remote meetings wearing a tie and button up over a pair of sweats. on days that he had to go into the office, though, he would walk with you and point out shops that you had yet to visit in your few months of living in the city.

"since when are you a flowers kinda guy?" you asked, gaze following his finger to the florist shop he pointed out.

he shrugged, adjusting his backpack straps over the blazer he wore. "might be nice for the apartment."

you eyed him. despite knowing him for years, sometimes he still surprised you.

on days that he didn't ride the subway with you, you would come home to find him sitting on the couch, swinging around a digital new york city from a web on the tv. you noticed the potted plant on the kitchen counter when you dropped your keys off in their designated tray. they were red, with tight round petals. you thought they almost looked like roses, but you knew that wasn't right. peonies? begonias? you didn't know enough about flowers to recognize them, but you figured he went to the florist in your neighborhood while you were at work.

he paused his game after landing on a roof somewhere. "how was your day?"

"good," you said, pulling off your light jacket and standing by the couch. "what's with the flowers?"

wonwoo looked around you to the yellow ceramic and red blooms, both colors that suited the other few colorful items in your minimalistic (mostly from having only lived there a few short months) white kitchen. "camellias. i thought they looked nice."

you nodded, thinking that he had more to say, but decided not to press. "have you eaten?"

he stretched on the couch, hands falling to the back of his beanie clad head as he let out a strangled noise. "do i ever eat without you?"

that made you smile. "any thoughts on dinner?"

wonwoo shook his head, settling back into the couch. "what do you feel like?"

"i'm craving pizza."

wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and adjusted to fish his phone out of the pocket of his favorite track pants. "go take a shower, i'll order."

you grinned. "you are such a good roommate."

"correction, i'm the best roommate. oh, also," he pointed towards the fridge in the kitchen. "soonyoung came by with side dishes from your aunt."

"oh, thank god," you said, walking over to wash your hands quickly and check the haul. "i was worried we were gonna have to buy kimchi this week. he wasn't annoying, was he?"

wonwoo shook his head, chuckling at the way you talked about your cousin as he tapped through menus on his phone. "he was fine. complained that you weren't here."

"doesn't he have a job?" you opened a plastic container and popped a sweet braised potato into your mouth. your voice was muffled as you chewed. "he knows i get off at five. if he wants to see me he should come when he knows i'll be home."

the small smile on wonwoo's face never left as you rambled about soonyoung, then your fantastic chef of an aunt, and then the new guy that sat at the desk next to you that microwaved fish for lunch. seriously, who microwaves fish? in an office?

wonwoo commiserated with you, then told you to hurry and go wash up, because he had just submitted the pizza order, to which you responded "okay, okay, i'm going. i'll be back in a minute."

after a steam filled shower, you left the bathroom while toweling your damp hair, sporting a plain black v-neck with your, similar to wonwoo's, favorite track pants.

wonwoo looked up and laughed, tugging on the hem of his shirt. "we match."

you eyed one of the several black muscle tanks wonwoo sports regularly and giggled, pulling at the stripes down your pants. "we do. you want wine?"

"hell yeah. friday night, baby."

you laughed, returning to the bathroom to hang your towel before making your way to the kitchen, pulling a couple of stemless wine glasses out of your cabinet. they were the only glasses in the apartment because, as wonwoo had said, your priorities are notoriously bad. but, you reminded him, they worked just fine with water too, so you convinced him that buying real glasses could wait until you were both slightly less busy. you grabbed the bottle of red wine off the counter and looked at the seal. "wonwoo."

"yeah?" he paused his game and looked at you over the small kitchen cart that acted as an island. you held up the wine.

"new bottle."

he sighed dramatically. "what would you do without me?"

you grinned happily as you got the wine opener out of a drawer, holding it out for him. he snatched the bottle and opener from your hands and made a face, but began twisting the corkscrew into the cork nonetheless. you planted your elbow on the wood topped cart and watched him as he tugged out the cork, decidedly ignoring the fact that he was wearing a sleeveless shirt and he definitely looked like he had taken a trip to the gym today. 

"you pour, i always miss."

you laughed, pulling at the shrapnel of the seal that wonwoo always refused to cut away before removing the cork. "maybe if you didn't make the neck such a mess it wouldn't go everywhere when we pour it."

"unnecessary step," he retorted, watching you as you poured the wine into the two glasses. he took the one closest to him as you finished. "cheers."

"cheers," you repeated, clinking your glass against his and taking a gulp. you let out a noise of approval. "happy friday."

wonwoo was smiling as he took a sip. "happy friday."

"where's the pizza?"

"uh," he patted his empty pockets, then put down his wine glass to retrieve his phone from the couch. "down the street."

wonwoo had to shove his feet into a pair of slides to meet the delivery person at the entrance of your building, and when he returned, you were giggling into your glass at your sns feed. the wine hit maybe a little too hard, but you hadn't eaten in too long for you to have almost polished off a glass already.

wonwoo gestured for you to join him on the couch, so you grabbed the bottle of wine and tucked it under your arm, carrying the two glasses over to where he was shutting off his game.

you ate merrily, and then you talked. about nothing and everything all at the same time. this happened more often than you ever thought it would, but a week into living in the city, wonwoo had come home from hanging out with some old friends to you crying on the couch with a show on that was far too comical to be the source of your tears. that night, he stayed up with you until the sun was peeking up over the buildings, listening to your worries and struggles. he shared his own fears. you were a blubbering mess. he kept sniffling his nose, acting like the tears welling up in his eyes weren't there when you laughed, despite yourself. wonwoo and you had always been close, or as close as past coworkers that had the same friend circle could be, but this was different. you couldn't remember the last time you had cried like that in front of anyone, much less someone who wasn't your mother.

when you woke up on the couch past noon, your sunday to a late start, your arms were wrapped around wonwoo's torso as he slept, one hand tucked behind his head and the other on your back. his face was inches from yours. your cheeks were pink and you suddenly felt hot, trying as gently as you could to escape without waking him. he stirred, but only to readjust as you snuck away.

he said nothing about the cuddling when he woke to the sound of you closing the front door, and you smiled as you held out the iced americano you got him at the cafe down the street. he squinted at you and scratched his head, taking the drink and sipping it before even testing his voice.

"thanks."

he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. "what? you bought coffee. thank you."

you sat next to him and swirling the straw in your own drink. "no, i mean for staying up with me. sorry i was a mess."

there was a pause, and your heart almost stopped when he put an arm over your shoulder. "you weren't. and i'll stay up with you whenever you want."

wonwoo sipped at his drink again, giving you a light squeeze when a tear fell down your cheek.

living together meant you saw a side of him you had never seen before. the little things he did throughout his day, when he wasn't even particularly conscious that you were in the same room as him. he always bit at his thumb when he was working, and he had a habit of leaving the milk carton open in the fridge. he always made you smile when he emerged from his room with his headphones loud enough for you to hear them from across the room, and he cluelessly bobbed his head to whatever he was listening to while he refilled a water bottle, waving and smiling before he returned to his room. when your mom asked you how living with wonwoo was, you told her he was great. clean, respectful, and quiet. that you had never been closer. that he made you feel safer so far from home. you didn't, however, tell her that you discovered that he liked running home from the gym at 2 pm on the weekends, laying out on the floor with his shirt over his head before he convinced himself to take a shower.

you had always thought wonwoo was cute. how could you not? he was a handsome guy, but you had accepted your place as a friend to him and happily let it progress no further. but, now that you spent your afternoons off arguing with him on whether or not showering was even worth the trouble, you couldn't help but stare at him. watching his toned chest rise and fall as you thought about how he had admitted his crippling fear of failure to you at three in the morning when your face was puffier than a padded jacket.

you never noticed, but wonwoo watched you closer than he did anything in his life. that night, when he found you crying, he felt his heart clench as you told him all your insecurities. when he had pulled you into his chest and held you tight as you questioned whether moving so far from home was a mistake, he patted your hair and told you that it was going to be fine. you had him, afterall. he had you. the two of you could make it out here. and if you still wanted to go home when the lease was up in six months, he would be there to help you move back.

he didn't stop holding you until your breathing settled, your shoulders stopped shaking. he leaned back into the couch, bringing you with him, and you didn't protest when he ran his hand up and down your back, coaxing you to sleep.

since then, every time you spoke to him, he couldn't help but stare at you intently. he watched your eyes light up while you talked about something you loved. he watched you scrunch your nose as you talked about your new desk neighbor. he watched your lips push into a pout when he said he should go get some work done. he wondered if anyone else noticed the way you sucked on your teeth while you thought up a witty comeback, or the way you carded your fingers through your still wet hair. or the way your eyes creased into a laugh, your hand coming up to block your open mouth. or the way you chewed on your red wine stained lip while he tried to form a sentence in response, when all he wanted to do was put those lips on his.

wonwoo had been stewing with these feelings far longer than he thought bearable, but stuffed it down in fear that he might lose you altogether. he didn't want to lose you altogether. he had gone on a walk halfway through his workday at home, feeling antsy for no particular reason, though if he thought about it long enough he would have realised it was because you had said something about feeling lonely lately that morning. he saw the florist he had pointed out the week before, and his feet brought him through the door.

"hi!" he looked up from the colorful display by the door to the person behind the counter and smiled politely. "did you need help finding something?"

"um," wonwoo blinked and looked around for a moment, then moved towards the counter. "i need a gift, i think."

the florist's eyebrows quirked curiously. "you think?"

he nodded, eyes flicking down to the nametag on his chest. he wondered if he was a foreigner with his three character name, but didn't mention it. "yeah. housewarming. for my, uh-" wonwoo paused, catching himself not knowing how to describe his relationship to you. roommate? wannabe lover? he bit his cheek. "my friend."

joshua nodded slowly, watching wonwoo's eyes as he worked his way through the sentence. "just friend?"

wonwoo stared at a flower arrangement to his right. "something like that."

"got it." joshua walked around the counter and gestured for wonwoo to follow him deeper into the store. "since it's a housewarming, how about a potted plant? something to brighten up the space for a long time. they'll think about you every time they see it."

wonwoo nodded, not saying anything about how funny he thought it was that he said he was getting his own roommate a housewarming gift. "that sounds nice."

"now, i'm not gonna claim to know you," the florist started, putting up his hands to exaggerate his words, they kept moving as he pushed and pulled pots, looking for one in particular. "you've said, like, maybe a full sentence to me, but those were some complex emotions when you called them a friend, so i'm gonna assume i know the situation. i think you should get camellias. specifically red ones."

wonwoo looked at the sunshine yellow pot in the soft featured man's hands. the petals of the flower were round and delicate, and he thought about how you said the color yellow made you happy. "why's that?"

"i think you should look up the meaning when you give them this," joshua said, and for some reason, wonwoo trusted him.

he came back to the apartment thinking about how he might have just gotten scammed into buying the potted flowers in his hands, only to find soonyoung about to hit the buzzer to call your unit, a far too large cooler bag sitting on the bench by the entrance of your building.

"is y/n around?" soonyoung asked, trailing behind wonwoo as they walked up the stairs, struggling slightly with the overpacked bag. "they didn't respond to my kakao."

"they're at work," he replied, flipping his keys over in his hands to find the one for your front door. "they'll be home around six."

"ah, shit," soonyoung laughed. "i always forget you guys have adult jobs. i would kill for a monday through friday."

wonwoo almost laughed, but left the smile on his face. "weekends are kind of overrated, anyways."

the shorter hoisted the bag of dishes onto the kitchen cart while wonwoo closed the door. "who're the flowers for?"

wonwoo stared at the pot in his arm as if it was the first time he had seen it. "oh, uh. just the place."

"for y/n?"

he looked at soonyoung, who had his chin in his palms, elbows planted on the counter as he smiled. he knew he was right when wonwoo didn't respond.

"i think they'll like them," he said, unzipping the top of the bag and starting to unload his mother's packaged dishes for his cousin. "they like the color yellow."

wonwoo just said "i know," before he opened the fridge and started rearranging things to fit the new food.

according to soonyoung, wonwoo was painfully obvious. when he had come by a couple weeks prior, you were arguing with him about some ridiculous childhood memory at your grandparents' home, and while soonyoung laughed, he noticed the smile on wonwoo's face when he watched you. he also noticed the way he instinctively put a hand on your back when you sighed about your newest temp gig, and soonyoung pulled on his ear as he looked at the ceiling, leaning against the kitchen cart much like he was today as he told wonwoo about how oblivious his cousin must be.

you pulled your knees to your chest as you sipped at your wine, the pizza box almost completely polished off by the two of you sitting on the floor in front of your couch. you stare at the pot of flowers.

"they're pretty," you said finally.

you too, wonwoo thought.

"camellias, right?" you turned back to him. "i like them."

i like you, wonwoo thought. "i went to that place down the street. the guy working was nice."

you nodded, sipping again. "any reason in particular?"

"i-" wonwoo paused, staring at his glass. he finished the last gulp in it and put it on the floor next to the pizza box. "you said something about being down recently," he said, folding his fingers together as he leaned back against the couch. "i wanted to get you something, i guess."

you watched his fingers as they pushed his glasses up his nose again, and your heart fluttered at the idea of wonwoo thinking about you when you weren't around. "really? that's so nice," you pouted, shoving his knee.

he laughed, pulling his knee onto the couch to face you. "the guy there - the florist, i guess? his name was joshua. he seemed to really know flowers." he knitted his brows together when he realized he was procrastinating on saying what he was nervous to. he put his arm on the back of the couch, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm before continuing. "he said i should look up what they mean when i give them to you. red ones, specifically."

you perked up, heart racing. "what they mean? they have meaning?"

"y-yeah, i guess so," wonwoo said, then cleared his throat. 

"hey google!" you looked over to where the device sat by your tv. "what to red camellias mean?"

wonwoo stared at your profile as you watched the device think before its automated voice piped up.

"camellia flowers are available in white, pink, and red, with each color having its own unique symbolism."

you looked over to him, excitedly putting your glass to your lips as the voice continued.

"pink camellias symbolize a longing for someone, and is given to people who are missed."

wonwoo swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting against his temple.

"red camellias symbolize love, passion, and a deep desire."

your eyes widened slightly as the device shut off, glass still to your lips and eyes still on wonwoo's. he stared back at you, and you wondered if he meant it. but he never claimed that he didn't feel those things for you.

before you could think, you clumsily put your glass on the floor and moved. you didn't stop moving until your lips were on wonwoo's, pushing him back into the arm of the couch as you practically crawled into his lap.

his hands found your hips and he helped you settle into him, your fingers tracing his jawline as it worked against yours. you sighed into his lips as his hand slid up under your shirt, placed gently on the small of your back. pulling you into him. when you paused for a moment, you thought about waking up to this exact same view, that day after you had cried all night. but this time, his other hand pulled your jaw back to kiss him again, and you happily complied.

[mytwinklelights]

A Reunion - Part 1 | Peter Parker x Stark! GN Reader

A/N: Remember over a month ago when I wrote this preview and didn’t post again? Oops sorry, I had to take a little break from tumblr because I was reading way too much fanfic. But now I’m back, just to post, still no reading for a while! Umm but yeah, here’s the first part! I can’t guarantee when part 2 will be posted but it’ll definitely be within the next 2 weeks! I hope you like it, please let message me with any feedback because I need validation to stay motivated lol

Summary: Y/N is an Avenger, the youngest Avenger. Then, Peter Parker comes along and they’re happy to finally have someone their age to hang out with, even if it was the boy they spent their senior year of high school crushing over.

Content Warnings: I don’t think there are any - let me know if I missed any though!

Genres: Friends to lovers, Stark! Reader, Frequent cameos from Avengers and them being cute, Slow burn, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2019

                                                             ----

“Alright gang.” Tony begins, standing in front of all the Avengers at the end of a large oval table in the conference room.

“I’m sure you’ve seen these ‘viral videos’ of this Spider-Boy kid swinging around the city and being a friendly neighbourhood vigilante. Well, Happy and I have managed to track him down and he’s agreed to join the team”

“Viral videos of superheroes?” Steve exclaims, looking at Tony whilst tilting his head and looking genuinely exhausted. “I’m still catching up on these keyboard cats and kids biting fingers”.

I giggle. Having Steve around was just the same as having an uncle you saw once the year who lived of the grid. He was extremely sweet, but utterly clueless to anything other than his job. But I mean, that job does include fighting evil aliens.

“Anyway…” Tony continues as the other Avengers chuckles die down after Steve’s outcry “he arrived not too long ago. Happy is next door giving him all the T&Qs and they should be done now. Let me just check and I’ll introduce you all.” Tony then leaves the room, and the other Avengers start to talk among themselves.

I pull out my phone and type ‘NYC spider boy’ into YouTube clicking on the second search result with 20 million views. I have seen this video before as my friend Michael sent it to me around a week ago.

“Do you think there are many other super kids wandering around the city?” Sam asks, whilst looking at the video of my shoulder. Currently the hero is stopping a city bus from off-roading into some confused tourists by building up a wall with his web.

“I doubt it, I mean I guess he’s the only one going viral” I answer, moving the angle of my phone so the others who have gathered around me can see “but it would be cool to be able to meet some people my age who do what I do, no offence guys”

They all laugh. Being the youngest Avenger and hanging out with 30+ year olds all the time can be kind of isolating, but it’s like having a super close family. A family who also happen to be in life and death situations regularly together. But that’s a great bonding experience I would say.

“Guys, this is Peter, the Spider-Boy” Tony draws our attention away from my phone to the door where he has just entered.

“Spider-Man” Peter mutters as a lame attempt to correct him.

“Peter?” I question and the boy stood in front of me was not who I expected. I didn’t expect the masked vigilante swinging through New York to be someone that I knew.

“Y/N?” He responds, looking even more confused than I am “What are you doing here?”

-

“So Tony Stark is your dad?” Peter asks.

After seeing a guy from your school who you shared a chemistry class with last year, walking into a super-secret meeting for superheroes where he will be now joining your team. It is understandable that Peter and I were now talking this out to figure out how this state could be so small.

“Yep” I answer. We were sat next to each other on bar stools at the kitchen island. Wanda made some of her famous fruit smoothies for us and we were both stirring them around with our straws whilst conversing alone in the main living space.

“But your last name isn’t Stark, or Potts?” He continues, genuinely really confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, well you can’t have the daughter of a billionaire and superhero couple walking around New York City alone, going to a normal school, having normal hobbies. It’s like asking for me to be taken hostage. So, I don’t have either of their last names and the general public doesn’t know I exist. It’s for my safety” I continue, reciting this memorised answer I’ve had to say to multiple people once they find out my existence.

Peter nodded as if he was understanding everything, he probably was, but I guess this wasn’t the conversation he planned to have today.

“And you’re the great Spider-Man” I continued, wanting the change the subject from me to him. “How did that happen? Wait… were you Spider-Man when you sat behind me in Chem last year?”

He began to explain to me the story, it happened to him on our school trip to OSCORP we took last year for our Chem class that happened just before the end of the semester. Something about a radioactive spider. It was strange, kind of the weirdest superhero transformation story I’ve heard. And I’ve heard quite a few.

My story was nowhere near as interesting. I guess having superhero parents who were always around weird alien technology and contaminated substances led to some weird epigenetic alterations of their reproductive cells and then when they had me, I could turn invisible.

They didn’t know at first, I was seemingly a normal baby. Then at my 2nd birthday party when they surprised me with a freaky clown, I was so scared that my body just decided to turn invisible. They weren’t expecting it, the clown definitely wasn’t expecting it and they had to cover up with a very convincing lie.

From then, whenever I was embarrassed, scared or essentially in a situation where I wanted to disappear. I did. Literally. It wasn’t entirely effective though as even though my body tuned invisible, the clothes I was wearing didn’t. I spent the majority of my preteen years of being a walking hoodie and jeans with no head or hands protruding from the gaps. For my 13th birthday Bruce and I got to work on a suit which responds to the activity of my skin cells, when I was invisible, my suit was invisible. It made it a lot more effective for me to actually be invisible when I turned but it also meant my dad let me start training to become an Avenger.

Training was fun, I worked with Nat a lot in our gym in order to become an efficient fighter. ‘Just because people couldn’t see me, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know how to serve a mean right hook’ she always said. I also spent a lot of time with Wanda, trying to manage my powers. Now I am able to actually turn invisible and visible again on demand. And it only takes extreme embarrassment now to turn me invisible against my will, which is great because mum and dad finally let me, after my years of begging, attend Midtown High and stop being home school. This is where I met Peter last year and now I’m at Columbia studying genetics and engineering. A double major, I know but when you’re around the top geniuses in the world everyday, there is no such thing as too much learning.

“So, I guess we’re the only Midtown Alumni to have these crazy powers huh?” Peter finishes. After a long ramble about his becoming a superhero story. I guess he wanted to ease the tension after I couldn’t really think of what to say after “that’s super cool”. It wasn’t like I wasn’t interested, I really was, but when I wanted to have another person my age to hang out with, I didn’t expect it to be the boy I spent my senior year of high school obsessing over. I had turned shy, like really shy, like my normal levels of shy times 50. I couldn’t think of what to say.

“Sorry, if that story was too long and boring, I’ve only gotten to tell it to one person before, my best friend Ned so I was kind of excited to be able to tell it again.”

“No, it wasn’t boring, it was genuinely really cool!” I say a little too loudly and enthusiastically. I cringe at my tone of voice and speak normally again as I continue “It’s just I didn’t really expect the new Avengers recruit to be you, you know, like someone I know. It’s just kind of weird, but nice? I don’t know, now I’m rambling”

Peter chuckles.

“Umm, so are you going to be staying with us whilst you train or are you going back to Queens?” I ask, hoping this new question will miraculously erase Peter’s memory of what I last said.

“A bit of both, my Aunt is back in queens and I don’t want to leave her completely alone, but this upstate facility is a little too far for an everyday commute. I’m here just for today but once I start training on Monday, I think I might stay for the whole week.”

“Well, I can give you the tour! Since you’ll be staying with us soon, I guess you’ll want to know where everything is!” I say whilst jumping of my bar stool and putting my half full smoothie cup in the fridge. I noticed peter has just finished his, so I grab the glass and put it in the dishwasher for him. He thanks me as I do so.

“So this is the kitchen, where we make our food, different from the kitchen where the chefs make our food for occasions, charity events blah blah blah. And also, this seating area here is kind of the main seating area where we’ll sit throughout the day. Lots of sofas because there are lots of us and this is Bucky’s armchair. Don’t ever sit in Bucky’s armchair.” I say, stopping behind the chair and resting my hand on the headrest.

“Bucky, scary guy with the metal arm right?” Peter questions whilst following me at a slight distance around the room as I show him around. I nod. “Yeah, don’t worry, I won’t be sitting in his chair” he laughs.

I continue to show him the rest of the complex, the gym, the labs and finish up on the floor with all our rooms.

“I’m not sure which one of these rooms will be yours because we have a couple spare ones, but they all have the same layout. Look I’ll show you mine” I walk into my room, then hold the door open for Peter so he can follow me in.

“Uh, so this is my room. Obviously, yours won’t be decorated like mine but It’ll be the same size and have an en-suite attached with a full shower and tub and stuff. You know, the basics” I say, whilst sitting on the edge of my bed.

“I like your room, it’s cosy” he adds whilst looking around and then heading for the bookshelf as soon as he spots it.

“Ah thanks, I mean it’s cool, bigger than when we were in the tower in the city so I can’t complain” I say whilst also looking around. What is it about someone else being in your room that makes you see it with fresh eyes and make you super self-conscious that there is going to be a rogue piece of underwear on the floor? Even though I know I tidied my room this morning.

“Holy crap, Vision you scared the life out of me” I say on an exhale whilst holding my hand to my chest after the large gasp I just made as he enters the room, through the wall.

“Sorry, but your door is open” He continues, “Mr. Stark has told me that your car is here to take you back home Mr. Parker. If you would just follow me, I can lead you there” Vision continues, as if him just floating through my bedroom wall and speaking to the boy from my chemistry class now turned superhero was a normal thing to happen on a Thursday evening.

“Oh… thanks Vision” Peter says with some hesitancy, you can see that this is a weird circumstance for him too. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday then” he says smiling at me and walking towards the door. Which vision doesn’t use to exit.

“Yeah, see you then” I smile as he closes the door and I’m left in my room listening to him shuffling down the corridor.

Part 2

[spine-buster]

t h e  c o l o u r  o f  a  c o n s t e l l a t i o n  | elias pettersson

Summary: Life comes at you in moments.  Elias and Svea are on solid ground now.  Back in Vancouver after an idyllic time in Sweden, they are faced with personal decisions that will affect their future together – both on separate and different paths professionally, though personally their connection is stronger than ever.  Many things are up in the air, but one thing that Svea and Elias know for sure is that they will always be together.  So how hard could those decisions be?

Word Count: 15k

A/N:  This is the final part of “The Space Series” although there will be an epilogue (because this bitch loves an epilogue).  It’s a bit more piece-y than I wanted it to be, but at the end of the day I’m still proud of it and I hope you enjoy!  We need more Petey love around here!

PART ONE - MADE OF OUTER SPACE  //  PART TWO - LIPS LIKE THE GALAXY’S EDGE

Svea got the text message from Grace while she was in class.  I’m here to pick you up.  Don’t ask questions.  And don’t check your notifications.

Svea did as she was told, but that didn’t mean that her heart wasn’t beating out of her chest as she left her seminar room and saw Grace’s Porsche at the bottom of the steps of the building.  When she approached, Grace reached over and opened the car door.  “What’s going on?” she asked, sliding into the passenger’s seat and clutching her messenger bag against her chest.

“The stupid media picked up your stupid boyfriend saying he has a girlfriend on a stupid camera, and now it’s everywhere,” Grace explained in an annoyed voice, signalling to rejoin the road.  She was very clearly annoyed, judging by how fast she rejoined the other cars and by the rev of her engine.  “You know, for such a quiet guy he’s got a big mouth.”

“And how do they know it’s me?”  Svea knew how stupid that question sounded the millisecond after it left her mouth.  She and Grace gave each other the exact same knowing look, one that said absolutely everything that needed to be said between the two of them.  It began happening as they grew closer, and now, it happened almost all the time.  “Never mind.  Why can’t I check my notifications?”

“Because God knows what’s going on in your DMs right now,” Grace warned.  “Anyways, what do you want to do?  Go shopping?  Go for a manicure?  How about we go for a manicure so you can’t check your phone.”

Svea couldn’t help but laugh.  She knew Grace was protective – had been since that night she came over to Elias’s place with Pippa and Svea was making sausage stroganoff – but this was taking it to a whole other level.  “Do you think it would be that bad?”

“If it’s anything like what I got from Brock’s fan club, then yeah, it’s pretty awful,” Grace said.  “And I’m serious – manicures?  You’re going to have to start getting them regularly if you want to be a hot shot lawyer,” she winked.  “Or, I don’t know, the speechwriter for Chrystia Freeland or Justin Trudeau.  Whatever you choose.”

***

When Svea walked into hers and Elias’s apartment later that day, after she’d been pampered with some Starbucks, a manicure, and a pedicure, and even a cheeky mimosa by Grace, she found Elias lying down on the couch scrolling through his phone.  She put down her bag in its usual spot before walking over to him and lying on top of him without warning.  After an entire day without him, she wanted to get close to him, to feel every inch of him.  

Elias smiled as she nestled into him, ditching his phone and paying complete attention to her.  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him.  When he kissed her, she sighed into the kiss, knowing that she was home and in her favourite place: the place where she felt the warmest, the most protected, the happiest she ever could feel – in his arms, of course.  And as they continued kissing on the couch, not bothering to stop for air – because really, who needed air when you were kissing the love of your life? – Elias shifted their bodies so Svea was on her back, and he was on his side perching himself up with one arm while the other snuck under her button-up shirt.  With his hand gliding against her bare skin and his tongue down her throat, Svea moaned slightly.  Elias took the opportunity to start unbuttoning her shirt to expose her bra.

“Elias…” she breathed out.

“Shhh…” he kissed along her jawline and down her neck.  His hand groped her breast.  He pushed the fabric of the cup down and began kissing along the curve of her breast until he reached her nipple, sucking on it gently.  Her back arched up to him.  “I missed you,” he finally hummed.  

“I was gone for eight hours,” she huffed out as she felt his tongue slip along her skin.  Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt him move towards her other breast.  She was gone at least a few hours some days because of classes, so it wasn’t like her absence was out of the ordinary.

“Too long.”  He sucked on her other breast.  When he heard her moan again, he kissed a trail back up to her lips.  Eventually, he grabbed at her wrist – the one wearing the bracelet he got her in Stockholm – and placed a kiss on the inside of it tenderly.  She was trembling by the loss of his lips on her skin, but she smiled at the gesture.  “Hello pretty girl,” he cooed playfully.  

“You’re the worst,” she huffed again, annoyed this time.  

“How was your day?”

She couldn’t believe she was sprawled out on their couch with her shirt unbuttoned and her bra pushed down with her breasts exposed and Elias was asking her how her day was.  He was playing a game and she knew it.  “Besides the fact that I still don’t know what I’m doing with my life?  Fine,” she said.  “How was your day?  I heard microphones are really strong these days.”

Elias closed his eyes and groaned.  He buried his head in her chest and shook his head.  “I’m sorry.  I’m an idiot sometimes.  Brock told me that for such a quiet guy I have a big mouth.”

Svea snorted at the reference.  For all that Grace and Brock liked to say Svea and Elias were the same person, she and Brock were astoundingly similar as well.  “Grace said that too.”

“Well, you know how they are,” he said, resting his chin against her chest, in the space between her breasts.  

Svea ran her fingers through his hair.  “It’s fine, Elias.”

“Is it though?” he asked, worried.  “I don’t want anybody to bother you.  Not now, not ever.  But especially this year when you have so much to figure out.”

“They’ll just be noise.  They’re not a part of my life,” she assured him.  “Not like you.”

Elias sighed, moving up and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.  He inhaled sharply, smelling her scent that he loved so much.  She smelled like everything he loved about her – flowers; vanilla; lavender; the saltwater waves of the Baltic Sea crashing again the Swedish shore; the crisp Swedish air during an early morning, though now it was later in the day and they were in downtown Vancouver.  She was magic to him, made of the moon and stars, and he wanted to keep her safe and happy as much as possible now that it was out in the open, however unwillingly, due to his big mouth.  “I love you,” he mumbled.

“I love you too,” she said easily.  Easily because she knew – it was the only thing she was certain about in life these days.  “Can you do me a favour?”

“What’s that?”

“Can you keep using your tongue, Elias?” she asked boldly, a small smirk playing on her face.  She was getting more confident with all of this – not just their new situation, but the activities that accompanied their new situation.  She felt safe and listened to and respected and catered to whenever she was in bed with Elias, always satisfied.  Elias, for his part, was also getting more confident with everything.  

“Oh?” he arched his brow at her words.  “Keep using my tongue, eh?”

“Eh?  Canada’s really getting to you.”

“Mmm,” he mumbled, kissing her chest.  “Let’s git er done,” he put on an accent.

Svea burst out laughing, shaking her head and pushing him away like she was disgusted with him as he tried to continue to kiss her.  She began wiggling to get out of his grip.  “Nooooo no no no no, not after you said that with that accent!”  She knew his teammates were responsible for that bit of lingo coupled with the accent, and while it was hilarious, she wasn’t exactly happy with it.  She knew Elias would use it constantly now.  

“Come ooonnn!” he begged, laughing and grabbing at her body so she wouldn’t wiggle away.

“We lost the moment the second you put on that accent!”

>< >< >< >< ><

Svea loved the UBC campus.  It was so beautiful, with enough old buildings to make it feel regal but enough new buildings to make it feel modern.  And the trees – God, the trees – the campus was full of lush trees, so many and so close to the water.  When she was stressed, she could always take a walk down the coast and admire the Pacific Ocean, the mountains in the distance, and the crisp British Columbia air.  After being at UBC for going on four years now, she understood why her mother loved it here so much; why it was so hard for her to give up when she moved to Sweden to be with Svea’s dad; why she constantly talked about it growing up, like it was some magical place not fit for the real world.  Svea understood now.  She thought the same things.  She didn’t think she’d ever be lucky enough to experience the things that her mother did growing up in Vancouver, but she did; she got that experience now, in university, with her own love of her life.

Despite all the stress in her life and the looming decisions she had to make, she at least had that: Elias, the love of her life.

As she grabbed her coffee from the barista and made her way to the seminar room, where she’d spend two hours learning about global uprisings, she thought about the decision she’d have to make this year.  On the one hand, she could go to law school – another three years of school, articling, and then pass the bar (all hopefully in British Columbia), and then she could join a firm or open her own.  She was already prepped and signed up to write the LSAT.  On the other hand, she could apply to the Masters of Public Policy and Global Governance program – another year and a half of school, gain her Masters, and then hopefully work in politics, but in the background, like a chief of staff or a senior advisor or even a speechwriter.  She had all the prerequisites and knew she could get in.  

But which one did she want to do?

Svea settled into her seat beside her friend Devansh, greeting him with pleasant conversation while taking out her laptop, notebook, and textbook, flipping it open to the chapter that she knew the professor would be lecturing about.  Her big decision seemed to be the only thing she thought about these days besides Elias.  But the more she thought about it, the more stressed she got.  And the more stressed she got, the more—

“So, like, you’re dating Elias Pettersson?” her friend Francesca asked as she plopped down into the seat beside her dramatically.  Instead of grabbing her notebook and laptop out of her bag like she usually did, she was intently focused on Svea who was sipping on her coffee innocently.  

“Wait – Elias Pettersson, like from the Vancouver Canucks?” Devansh perked up once he heard the name being tossed around.  “That can’t be…that’s not…no.”

“Wow, Dev,” Svea deadpanned.

“Wait – you are?” his eyebrows raised.

“H-How did you know?” Svea focused back on Francesca, still perky, still not taking out her laptop, still not taking out her notebooks.  

“So apparently Petey said something on camera?  And this journalist from the Vancouver Sun, like, scoured his Instagram and his tagged photos and found your profile kept popping up tagged in pictures with him, so the two and two were put together, and there’s an article about it on their website today!  It came up as a notification on my phone!” Francesca held up her phone as if it was still there.  It wasn’t – it was full of Snapchat notifications, but the point still stood.  “I mean, they’re right, aren’t they?  Svea Nilsson…you are dating Elias Pettersson?”

Svea was mortified.  Elias had the common sense to just say he had a girlfriend out loud, not broadcast her name for the microphones to pick up too, but they’d found her profile anyway – by stalking his, essentially.  She thought things would die down, especially because her profile had always been private, and though she did get some intense DMs like Grace knew she would, there wasn’t a bombardment and she’d just deleted them all without looking at them.  Now that her name was published in a newspaper, she had an entirely new problem on her hands.

She noticed Dev and Francesca were still waiting for an answer.  “I…yeah, I’m dating him,” she said meekly, not wanting to say too much.

“How did you even meet him?” Francesca asked.  “I mean, no offence, but you don’t exactly come out with us a lot.”

“He’s my childhood best friend,” she said, immediately putting an end to the notion that she’d met him at some bar.  “I…I grew up with him.  We’ve been best friends since we were three and he essentially followed me to Vancouver because I came here first.  He’s the person I live with and—”

“Wait – you live with him?!” Dev was shocked at her revelation.  Svea was always pretty secretive of why she never moved into a place near campus after first year, and always eluded questions as to how she was able to afford a pricey apartment in Yaletown.  Now he knew.  “You live with him and that’s why you live in Yaletown?”

“Yeah.  We…” she stopped herself, not wanting to reveal too much.  “It’s…I’m dating him, okay?”

“Svea, this is huge,” Francesca’s tone was a mix of serious and excited.  

Francesca said it as if Svea didn’t know how much of a big deal it was that she was dating the biggest star on the Vancouver Canucks.  Svea knew how much of a big deal it was.  Clearly.  If people from newspapers were stalking Elias’s profile to see who she was, it was a big deal.  It was just that, Elias, as a person, wasn’t a big deal to her.  He was her best friend.  He wasn’t the star first line centre.  “Yeah, I know.”

“Massive,” Dev commented too.  “Well I’m happy for you if you’re happy, Svea.”

“Secure that bag, girl,” Francesca quipped.

Before Svea’s jaw dropped, and before her brain could function to say anything to Francesca, their professor walked into the room and greeted the class loudly, thus ending their conversation.  He almost immediately started lecturing.  

Svea began typing, and Francesca was scrambling to get everything out of her bag.

>< >< >< >< ><

“It’s ready, pretty girl,” Elias called from the kitchen as he finished stirring the pasta in its sauce.  He looked over at Svea sitting at the dining room table, head in a giant textbook that looked menacing to him.  She looked so concentrated and focused on what she was reading, but when she heard his voice, she looked up momentarily.  She let out a loud sigh.  

Elias remembered back to the summer, back in Sweden, when they went to Emma Gardner’s dinner party and he was intimidated by Soren’s supposed ‘smarts’ and how emotional he got by it all the next morning.  When they came back to Vancouver and Svea began her last year of university, he wanted to change things.  As much as they resolved the issue right then and there, he knew he needed to do more – and he was willing to do more.  He was making a big effort to be in the know – not exactly to understand everything she was studying, but to at least know what it was.  Now that he was with Svea, he wasn’t the most important person in his life anymore – it was her.  He needed her to know that.  He made sure to show it to her every day, through his actions, his words, and his priorities when he was away from hockey.  

When he brought the plates over, he wouldn’t set hers down in front of her until she kissed him.  The textbook was cleared by then, off to the side where she didn’t have to look at it while she ate with him.  When they came back to Vancouver and she began her last year of university, she wanted to change things.  She made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t be distracted by school work during meals, especially meals with Elias.  She could tell Elias was making a huge effort to know more about her studies, and she wanted to reciprocate.  There was no way she wouldn’t put in the same effort he was into the relationship.  Now that she was with Elias, she wasn’t the most important person in her life anymore – it was him.  She needed him to know that.  She made sure to show it to him every day, through her actions, her words, and her priorities when she wasn’t engaging with school.  

“Everything okay?” he asked as he settled into his seat across from her after their kiss.

She nodded her head.  “Just reading about the Cuban Revolution.”

“Is it interesting?” he asked.

“Interesting enough,” she shrugged.  She began digging into her pasta in vodka sauce.  Now that Elias had finally mastered the art of cooking some pasta, and didn’t over or undercook it every time, she could enjoy him making dinner at least once or twice a week now.  Though the first time he cooked ravioli was an absolute fucking shit show (there was spinach and ricotta floating everywhere in the pot because he left them in too long and they all burst open), he’d gotten the hang of penne, spaghetti, and fettucine.  “How was the gym with Brock?”

“Same old,” he answered, eating his pasta.  “Grace told him how much you were screaming at the game the other night.”

Svea snorted.  She’s almost embarrassed herself by how much she was screaming and swearing.  She didn’t know what came over her.  “It was pretty bad.  I’m surprised she left with me, to be honest.  She wasn’t even that loud, and you know how she gets.”

“I can’t believe it took Vancouver to get you to scream at my games,” Elias quipped.

Svea laughed, but the comment panged her a little bit.  Growing up in Sweden, she was always at his games, but her head was, as Brigitte so lovingly put it, ‘always in a book instead of in his lap’.  It wasn’t that she didn’t care – because she did, she knew how much hockey meant to Elias – it was just that she had different interests.  But she was always there; she always supported him.  Suddenly, she wondered if that was enough.  “Did…did that make you mad?” she asked softly.

“Did what make me mad?”

“Me being quiet at your games growing up.  Me having a book in the stands and reading in between periods,” she said.  He knew because the girls told him as a means of gossip.  “Like, did you hate it?”

“Of course not,” he furrowed his brows.  “Why would I hate that?”

“I don’t know…”

“Svea, I hate nothing about you,” Elias said.  “Not even the fact that you’ve started to talk in your sleep sometimes.”

“I do not.”

“Yes you do.”

“Then what do I say?”

“Oooooh, Elias, right there.”

She kicked him underneath the table, but he was ready for it, grabbing her foot with his free hand.  “You’re an ass,” she sneered.

“So you don’t have wet dreams about me?”

“You wish,” she stuck her tongue out like a child, causing him to smile and laugh.  

“For what it’s worth,” he began, trailing his hand up her leg, “I didn’t care about any of that.  You reading at games or whatever.  You’re your own person, Svea.  I don’t care what anybody said.  The fact that you were there was enough for me – like, the fact that I could see you in the stands with my family or whatever.  When you made it back to Vaxjo after flying in from Vancouver, and you watched me score that game winning goal and then surprised me on the ice – Svea, that was, like, one of the greatest moments of my life.  And it wasn’t because I’d just won the championship.  It was because you were there for it.”

Svea smiled.  Elias knew to say all the right things, but what was better than just saying them was knowing that he meant them, fully and completely.  “I love you, Elias.”

“I love you too, Svea.  More than anything,”

There was a comfortable silence between them as they ate dinner, Svea’s foot still propped up in Elias’s lap after she’d tried to kick him.  “Are you going to be able to come to the game on Saturday?” he asked once they were almost finished.

She nodded.  “I’ll finish this reading tonight easily and I’ll be back yelling in no time.”

“Good,” he smiled.  “I like it when you’re loud.”

She kicked him again.

***

“Brock reminded me that Grace is setting the date soon for the next Parkinson’s gala,” Elias said later that night, after dinner and after clean up and Svea finished her reading and after they cuddled on the couch and after they watched a few episodes of Jeopardy at Svea’s request like an old married couple.  They’d gotten themselves ready for bed and Svea watched as Elias fluffed up their pillows while she pulled the covers back.  

“That’ll be fun,” Svea said.  “Every time we’ve gone it’s been a blast.  I can’t wait.”

“And we have Dice and Ice again this year too.  I wonder if they’ll make me play Family Feud again,” he mused as they both got into bed.

Svea giggled.  “Maybe this time you can announce to six hundred people that you finally have a girlfriend – oh wait, you already did that a few weeks ag—HEY!”

Elias pulled her into his body in one quick tug and wrapped his arms around her, peppering her face with kisses as she began to laugh at the sensation.  He flipped her around so she was beneath him.  “Yeah yeah, I’ve got a big mouth, I know,” he mumbled against the skin of her neck as he bit down on it gently.

“Mmm,” Svea hummed, enjoying the feeling like she always did.  “How about you remind me what else you can do with that mouth.”

A low chuckle erupted from deep within Elias.  “With pleasure,” he smiled devilishly.  Almost immediately, he shoved her old t-shirt (technically, his old t-shirt) up and over her head and moved down her body.  He hooked his fingers into the hem of her shorts and pulled them off too, watching as he saw a smirk appear on her face.  “What’s got you smiling, pretty girl?”

“You,” she purred.  “I’ll always regret waiting so long to be with you.  We could have had so much more time together.”

Elias brought himself back up, placing a tender kiss on her lips.  “Don’t regret that.  We have the rest of our lives together, pretty girl.  We always did.”

Svea smiled, pulling him down by the neck to kiss him again.  The universe knew that them being together was always endgame; it just took them longer to realize.  She liked Elias’s optimism – not focusing on what was in the past, but instead focusing on the future.  “Elias…” she mumbled in between kisses.

“Hmm?”

“Show me I’m yours,” she whispered.  She knew it would set him off completely, just like it did the first time, just like it did subsequent times since.  “Show me I’m yours, Elias.”

He audibly groaned, slipping his way back down her body before forcing her legs apart and lowering his face between them, lapping and sucking so expertly that Svea was squirming within no time.  Her pants and callouts of his name only fueled him as time went on, and when she ran her fingers through his blonde hair and tugged on it, he let out his own groan.

“Fuuuuuck,” she breathed out, tugging on his hair even more.  “You’re so…your tongue is so good Elias.”  He moaned at the sound of her voice, the vibrations causing her to squirm even more.  He brought his arm around her thigh and held her hips down.  It made her huff out in slight frustration.  “Elias.”

His only response was to push down harder.  Her response was to pull his hair as tight as she could and squeeze his head between her thighs.  All the while, he kept up his movements, looking up at her with his striking, beady blue eyes.  “You taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he mumbled against her wet lips.  “So sweet for me.”

“Elias—”

“Are you gonna cum on my face, pretty girl?”

Svea nodded her head fervently.  “I’m so close.”

“Mmmmm,” he hummed, the vibrations yet again making her squirm.  “Cum for me, Svea.”

Svea arched her back, and after a few short moments, she was screaming out his name, squeezing his head in between her thighs even tighter than before.  Elias kept lapping until she calmed down, sucking up the last of her juices before looking up at her again.  “I could taste you all day, pretty girl,” he mumbled against her lips, the last thing he did before moving up her body and placing open-mouthed kisses and dragging his lips along her stomach and up to her breasts.

“I need you inside of me right now,” she said, her breath hot and frantic as she moved to wrap her legs around him.  

“So impatient,” Elias mused.

“Fuck me, Elias.  I can’t wait anymore.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.  When she felt him enter her, quickly and in one swift movement, she dug her nails into the skin on his shoulder blades and almost immediately rocked her hips against his, trying to get him even deeper.  “Svea…” he groaned out, feeling how deep he was inside of her.  “Svea…fuck, you’re desperate, aren’t you?”

She nodded.  She couldn’t help it.  She was desperate.  She was always desperate for him.  Desperate for his voice, his touch, the sound of him, his smile, his laugh, how he filled her up, how he felt above her and beneath her – everything about him.  “You like it when I’m loud, right?” she asked.

Elias’s eyes bulged for a moment.  “Y—Yes.”

“You want me to be loud?”

His pupils dilated.  “Yes.”

“Let me ride you.”

Svea wrapped her arms around Elias so he would stay inside her before he turned onto his back.  She quickly got comfortable, adjusting slightly, and Elias brought his hands up and their hands intertwined, letting her lean against his elbows so she had something to brace against.  When she began to rock back and forth slowly, he let out a groan.  “You feel incredible, baby,” Svea said as she quickened her pace slightly.  

“You do, too,” Elias said quickly.  She began to moan loudly, like she knew he wanted and liked, and she could see his eyes practically roll to the back of his head.  Elias liked knowing that it was him who made her feel this way.  As she continued her noises, he didn’t know where to focus – her hips, her breasts, her eyes, how his cock had disappeared inside her – but he knew that everything felt good.  He was left speechless by everything.

She led his hands to cup her breasts, but he had other ideas.  Instead, he used his arms to push himself up so he could kiss them instead, his hands on her back.  He remembered back to their little rendezvous at the lake during Midsommar, what she’d done and the quiet confidence in which she’d done it.  He had obviously never done anything like that before.  “When we get married these are going to be all mine,” he mumbled against her breasts, licking at the space on her chest where he remembered his cum covering her.

“They already are,” Svea mumbled, lost in the feeling.  She brought her hands up to run through his hair so she could tug on it and so he could look her in the eye.  When he was, she said what she wanted to say – what she knew he wanted to hear.  “I’m all yours.”

Elias smiled.  “I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” Svea repeated.

They kissed, wet and sloppy, and Svea could feel herself getting close again.  She dug her nails into the skin at the nape of Elias’s neck.  When he felt her walls tighten around him, and heard her cries of pleasure at the feeling, he came completely undone as well.  They clung on to each other, riding out their highs for a long as they could until they finally settled down, their breathing laboured and shaky, their chests heaving less and less as the time went by.  Neither let go of each other.  There was no need to.

Elias slipped out of her slowly, and Svea whimpered at the loss of feeling him fill her.  He wrapped his arms around her as he fell back slowly, laying them on the bed.  They stayed close, wrapped in each other, giving each other quick, soft kisses.  “I love you,” Elias mumbled, his voice tired.  

Svea smiled slightly.  “I love you too.”

>< >< >< >< ><

An advertising executive must schedule the advertising during a particular television show. Seven different consecutive time slots are available for advertisements during a commercial break, and are numbered one through seven in the order that they will be aired. Seven different advertisements – B, C, D, F, H, J, and K – must be aired during the show. Only one advertisement can occupy each time slot. The assignment of the advertisements to the slots is subject to the following restrictions:      • B and D must occupy consecutive time slots.      • B must be aired during an earlier time slot than K.      • D must be aired during a later time slot than H.      • If H does not occupy the fourth time slot, then F must occupy the fourth time slot.      • K and J cannot occupy consecutively numbered time slots.

Svea read over the logic puzzle three times, breathing harder every time.  She wrote the requisite lines and letters.  She moved on to the first questions.

1. Which of the following could be a possible list of the advertisements in the order that they are aired? a.  BDFHJCK b.  CJBHDKF c.  HBDFJCK d.  HDBFKJC e.  HJDBFKC

Svea tried not to panic as she tried to work out the first question based on the parameters presented to her.  When she took at her answer, then at the options, none of them matched.  She tried again.  No match again.  She tried not to panic irrationally, but when she tried a third time, she still couldn’t get the right answer.  She felt her cheeks heat up and her eyes start to well.  No.  No.  There’s no crying in doing logic puzzles.  She moved on to the next question, seeing if she could at least solve that one, but she couldn’t.  Okay, back to question one.  She tried a combination one more time and finally, finally found a match, so she circled the option.  

She checked her time.  Six minutes had passed, and she had five more questions to answer based on this logic puzzle alone.  On the LSAT, they got about eight minutes per entire puzzle and four puzzles, for a total of around 35 minutes for this section.  So she was severely behind.  Like, severely.  She looked at the note in the margins of her book.

This is generally considered one of the easier questions.

Svea whimpered.  Audibly.  She felt a few tears falling down her cheeks as she tried to move on to the second question, realizing it was now predicated upon the answer from the first.  Seven minutes.  And based on the wording of the question, her answer for the first one was wrong.  It wasn’t even possible.

She let out a sob.  

Eight minutes.  She’d officially already failed this section of the LSAT.  

As she tried to wipe her tears away with the backs of her hands, she heard the lightest knock on the door.  As she looked over, she saw Elias’s head peek through the doorway, a bowl in his hands.  “I brought you some raspberries,” he said softly, closing the door behind him.  “How’s it going?”

Svea shook her head and started to cry again.  “Elias…”

“Heeeyyyyy hey hey,” Elias cooed, rushing over to her and putting the bowl on the desk.  He pushed out her chair, moving it so she was facing him, and knelt down in front of her.  “What’s wrong?  What’s going on?”

“Elias, will you still love me if I fail?”

“Svea—”

“Be honest,” she interrupted.  “Will you still love me if I fail the LSAT and don’t get into law school and don’t get into grad school and just become a bum?  Will you?”

“Svea, don’t say stuff like that,” he said, running his hands up and down her thighs trying to sooth her.  

Svea shook her head fervently.  “I’m dumb.  I’m so dumb,” she whimpered out.

“You know you’re not dumb, Svea—”

“But I am!” she exclaimed.  “I couldn’t even do this logic puzzle in time.  I had eight minutes and I couldn’t do it.  And it’s one of the easier ones!  Imagine me sitting in that room trying to write the LSAT and I can’t even get past the logic puzzles!”

“Shhhhh,” he cooed, bringing his hands up to cup her face.  He began wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, still kneeling in front of her.  “Svea, you know that I love you more than anything.  I’ll love you no matter what.”

“Even if I fail?”

“You won’t fail.  But even if you fail, yes, I will still love you,” he nodded, knowing it was what she needed to hear right now.  She wouldn’t have dropped it if he didn’t say those words.  

“And here you are, bringing me raspberries like a good boyfriend and I can’t even get a log—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Elias warned.  “Svea, it’s fine.  You’re probably just very tired.  You had a day full of classes, then homework, now this.  I bet when you have a fresh and well-rested brain tomorrow, it will be much easier for you.”

Svea whimpered again, wrapping her arms around Elias and squeezing him against her chest.  He was such a good boyfriend, always bringing her snacks or water or tea without her even having to ask, and she was just being a blubbering mess.  She’d missed some of his games lately due to her studying and she felt horrible about it, and it all led to this: he was the one still comforting her about the long-term goal of why she was even studying in the first place.  

“And Svea?”

“Hmmm?”

“You know I’ll always love you.  You know that you’re going to be successful.  This is just a little bump, that’s all.”

She took a moment to consider his words.  She knew he was right, but it took her a while to digest.  She hated that it did – that it took her so long – but her mind was off right now, overtired and overworked from a full day.  “Maybe I should go to bed,” she mumbled as her head rested in the crook of Elias’s neck.

Elias didn’t even have to say anything.  All he did was move to pick her up, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and her legs wrapping around his torso, and he carried her across the apartment to his bedroom, now their bedroom, with her face still tucked.  He could feel her tears on his skin, and when he lay her down gently on the bed, he made sure to wipe the rest of them away before he began undressing her, helping tug her shirt off and pulling off her jeans, leaving her in just her underwear.  He did the same quickly, stripping down to his boxers before climbing into bed and pulling the covers over them.  

They gravitated towards each other in bed like they always did, Elias wrapping an arm around her and Svea tangling their legs together.  He began running his fingers gently through her hair and could hear her sigh, like she was letting out all her frustrations, all her nerves, and all her stress.  “I love you, pretty girl,” he said softly as he continued his motions, knowing that it would soothe her, calm her down, just like it did for him when she did so.  It was one of the best feelings in the world, when he thought about it.  

“I love you too, even when I’m in my own head too much,” she responded, her voice soft and almost a whisper, but there was enough there.  “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

>< >< >< >< ><

Back in her global uprisings course, Svea took a moment to stretch as the professor gave them a five minute bathroom and coffee break.  She debated on whether or not to go down to the main floor and get a coffee and croissant, or just stick it out until lunch time.  She made sure to save her notes before she closed her laptop.  

She’d finally gotten the hang of the logic puzzles and was doing them like crazy now.  She’d seen advertisements on the bulletin board on the main floor for LSAT prep classes, and she wondered if she should take another round of them, even though she’d taken them last year as well.  But then she had the fact that she needed to finish her application for her Master’s.  There were a few more things to do on the supplemental application and some other things she needed to perfect before submitting it.  She’d need someone to look it over.  She needed to make sure the professors she’d asked to be references actually wrote their letters.  She needed to—

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Francesca asked suddenly, snapping Svea from her thoughts.  

“I’m thinking about the LSAT,” Svea decided to be honest with her.  “The LSAT and my application to grad school.”

“The LSAT?  Grad school?” Francesca asked like it was the most absurd thing that Svea was continuing her education and applying to these programs.  “What’s the point, Svea?”

Svea furrowed her brows.  “What do you mean what’s the point?  I want to work in law and politics.  You know that.”

“I mean, what’s the point when you’re with Elias now?”

Svea’s body stiffened at Francesca’s words.  “What do you mean?  I have to make a living, Francesca.”

“Do you?  Do you really?  Isn’t Elias gonna be signing, like, a huge contract at the end of this year?  Do you honestly think you’re going to need to work to support yourself for the rest of your life when he’s going to be making, like, ten million dollars a year?  Minus endorsements?  I mean doesn’t he already support you?”

Svea was taken aback by Francesca’s line of questioning, and, to be honest, deeply hurt by it as well.  Did Svea give off the airs and graces that she was fine with being a kept woman?  Had she ever made it seem like she didn’t want to do anything with her life?  That she didn’t care?  She didn’t think she did ever.  But for some reason, Francesca was bringing it up.  “Francesca, I can’t let my boyfriend support me for the rest of my life.”

“You can’t?  Because I can,” she quipped.  She said it in a joking manner but Svea knew she was completely serious.  The next line of questioning confirmed it for her.  “I mean, does Elias have any teammates?  Brock Boeser maybe?  Or is he still with that Gillespie girl?  The billionaire?”

Svea furrowed her brows.  She didn’t like the direction this conversation was going, and she didn’t want Francesca anywhere near Brock or Grace.  “They’re still together.  He’s madly in love with her,” she mumbled before turning away from her and back to her laptop.

“Damn.  Should’ve told me you were dating Elias earlier so I could’ve jumped at the chance.”

“Hmm,” Svea hummed, just to acknowledge what she said.  She began typing something so Francesca would leave her alone.

When class was finished, Svea took out her phone and immediately texted Elias.

I’m going to be the most horrible housewife on the planet

Svea wtf are you talking about

Francesca said today I didn’t have to apply to law school or grad school because now I have you to take care of me It was the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever heard

Not even thirty seconds later, her phone began to ring.  When she picked it up, Elias didn’t even greet with any formalities.  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, too,” he said.  “I mean, who says something like that?”

“Someone who wishes she was kept, I guess.  I mean, she asked about Brock afterwards and I had to break her heart and tell her that he’s still madly in love with Grace.”

“What do you mean kept?”

“It’s a saying.  It’s like a girl who has a nice and lavish lifestyle because of a rich man,” she explained.

Elias was silent on the other end trying to understand what Svea was explaining to him.  “Did she just call you a prostitute?  Or one of those sugarbaby things or whatever?”

Svea snorted.  “In her own way, probably.  I mean, when you think about it…” Svea tried to joke, seeing the humour in the situation, finally.  Elias did pay for most things and Svea did enjoy a nice, comfortable life because of it – an apartment in Yaletown, access to a luxury car, an $8000 gold bracelet screwed onto her wrist…

But that didn’t mean she was kept.  They were equal partners in their relationship.  There was no power dynamic.  Elias didn’t do those things and provide her with what he did because he wanted to control her, or because he wanted to have sex with her, or because he wanted to keep her at home all the time doing nothing besides looking pretty and being ready in bed for him.  He did it because he genuinely loved her, because she was his best friend, his soulmate, his sun and his moon and his stars, and because he could, because what the hell else was he going to do with all this money?  Spend it on himself?  He already did that and there was a ton left over.  Who better to spend it on than Svea?  

“What is it with everyone trying to get into our business?  We’re happy this way.  It works for us.  What the fuck does it matter?” Elias asked.  “And why is everybody so obsessed with money?”

“It makes the world turn, Elias.”

She heard him huff on the other end.  “Just…don’t worry about what she says.  It doesn’t matter.  You’re going to law school or grad school or you’re doing what you want to do and that’s that.”

“Why did I have to love debating in high school?  Why did I have to like law and politics?  Why couldn’t I have loved to bake and like…I don’t know, opened up some hipster coffee shop here or in Stockholm and just made coffee and cake and cookies all day?”

“Because then you wouldn’t have been Svea,” Elias said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “You would have been someone else.  And I don’t know who that someone else is, but it’s not you.”

And he was right.  He was so fucking right that Svea was taken aback by the simplicity of his words but just how deep they were; how they hit the nail right on the head and how they were just so…right.  She wouldn’t be the same person if she never debated, if she was never a precarious kid checking out books at the library.  She wouldn’t be the same person if she had baked cakes and cookies and opened some hipster coffee shop with vegan treats made exclusively from organic ingredients.  She wouldn’t be the same Svea.  She wouldn’t be the Svea Elias loved.  She wouldn’t be the Svea her friends loved.  She wouldn’t be the Svea her family loved, that Elias’s family loved.  She almost teared up for how right he was.  “Thank you, Elias,” she said softly, not knowing what else to say.

“For what?”

“For loving me the way I am.”

She could practically hear him smile bashfully on the other end.  “I love you for the way you’ve always been, too.  And the way you’ll be.”

She knew he would.  That was the best part.

>< >< >< >< ><

Svea clicked send.  

Your application to the University of British Columbia’s Master of Public Policy and Global Affairs has been received.  You will receive a confirmation email with your application number shortly.  

She took a deep breath.  Now she waited.

***

Svea clicked send.

Your application to the Peter A. Allard School of Law at the University of British Columbia has been received.  You will receive an email shortly confirming your application.

She took a deep breath.   Now she waited.

>< >< >< >< ><

“It would be chic to wear black, right?” Svea asked Grace as they scoured through the racks of dresses at Holt Renfrew, the iconic upscale Canadian department store, looking for something to wear to the upcoming Dice & Ice fundraiser the Canucks held annually.  Grace loved to shop, and she was good at it, so Svea was confident they’d find something to wear.

“Well, it’s always chic to wear black,” Grace said as she pulled out a beige coloured, skin-tight dress.  She took a good, long look at it before deciding it wasn’t the one and pushing it back in.  “But you need to spruce it up a bit.”

“Spruce it up?”

“You’ve got a great body and you need to show it off.  You’ve been wearing your knit sweaters for so long that I’ve forgotten what your boobs look like, Svea.”

She snorted.  Leave it to Grace, the professional dancer with the near perfect body, to mention her boobs.  “Grace, I barely have boobs.”

“Doesn’t matter.  You can still show off your figure.  It’s to die for.  And I’m sure Petey would love it.”

Well, that was true.  Svea kept that in her mind as they continued to look through racks and racks of dresses, never quite finding the right one, though they pulled some to try on just in case.  Grace always had something to say about the dresses Svea pulled – “You’re going to look like my uncle’s fourth ex-wife if you wear that” or “That looks like something a retired art teacher would wear”.  Svea couldn’t help but laugh.  She was thankful to have Grace along for this ride since Grace had a sense of style and what would look good on her body; if she wasn’t here, Svea wouldn’t probably end up picking a dress that made her look like a 17th century peasant woman from Croatia ready to milk the cows.  As Grace would say.

They verged into the designer departments.  Grace picked out a dress from Dolce and Gabbana, and handed one from Gucci to Svea.  They checked in Yves Saint Laurent and Versace but there was nothing.  Chloe.  Louis Vuitton.  Celine.  Miu Miu.

“What about this one?” Svea asked, pulling out a gorgeous dress from the Miu Miu rack.

From down the line, Grace looked up.  “It’s black.”  Svea took it off the bar completely, holding it against her body, showing its crystal-studded top.  “Ooooooooh,” Grace’s jaw dropped at the detailing.  She immediately let go of the dress she’d pulled out and walked over to Svea.  “Now that’s a good one.”

“You think?”

“Mhm,” she nodded her head fervently.  “Let’s go try these all on now.  I need to see that dress on you.”

The first few dresses Svea tried on and modeled for Grace didn’t “work”, according to her.  There was something off about them – a hemline, a cut, the fact that it made Svea look like a nun – that sent them back on the hanger.  But when Svea put on the Miu Miu dress she pulled, even just seeing herself in the dressing room with it half on, she knew it would look good.  “Um…I think I’m going to need to take off my bra for this one,” she called out to Grace is the dressing room beside her.  

“Then take it off.”

“There’s gonna be a lot of side-boob.  I’m not sure that’s appropriate for a gala raising money for children…”

“Nothing a little double-sided boob tape can’t fix,” Grace retorted.  “Now get out here so I can see.”

Svea pulled back the curtain.  When she did, Grace’s jaw dropped.  Grace was standing in a beautiful dress of her own, but she didn’t even care – her full attention was on Svea now, and the dress she was wearing.  “Oh…my…God,” she gave Svea a complete up-down, a giant smile forming on her face afterwards.  “This is perfect.  This is it.”

“But what about this?” Svea moved to show Grace her side profile.

“Like I said, boob tape.  But we’ll bring it to a tailor as well.  We want this thing pinched in and showing off that body.”  Grace approached her, moving them so that they stood in front of a mirror together with Grace behind her.  Svea could feel her hands on the low backline of the dress.  Grace tugged on it.  “See?” she said, getting Svea to look in the mirror.  Even just the simple pinch covered up some of the side boob – enough that Svea felt more comfortable and more appropriate.  “Now imagine what my tailor can do.  This thing will fit you like a glove when he’s done with it.”

Svea nodded her head.  She did look good.  And she had a feeling Elias would like the open back and the fact it would be tight.  Elias liked her in anything but her dressing up did something to him.  He would treat her as a present he needed to unwrap.  “Is there any point in trying on anything else?” she smiled.

Grace smiled back.  “No way.”

***

“D’you ever think about marriage?” Grace asked suddenly as she and Svea ate lunch at Coast, raw oysters in between them arranged perfectly on a platter.  

Svea was taken aback by the question, which was posed out of the blue.  She thought anybody would be, all things considered.  “Uh…sometimes.  Why?”

“I just think of you and Elias a lot. And Brock and I, obviously, but more so you and Elias.  Because, like, we both know you guys are going to get married one day.  I mean, so will Brock and I…but…I don’t know.  Do you ever just think of what marriage will be like?”

Svea knew what Grace was trying to get at.  In her own roundabout way, she was expressing a deep-rooted fear.  Not of marriage in and of itself – the act of it, of getting a legal document and signing it and being attached to a person through marriage – but the dynamics of it instead.  How to make it work.  Communication.  Trust.  Traveling.  Schedules.  Children.  Her parents notoriously didn’t speak to each other after their horrible divorce and used her and their lawyers as pawns.  She got along well with her step-brothers and all was well and fine now, as an adult, but divorce traumatizes kids.  “I do.”

“What do you think your marriage with Elias will be like?”

“Comfortable,” Svea said without any thought.  She felt the need to clarify.  “I don’t mean that in a bad way.  I just mean that like…I think it will be easy.  Easier.  We’ve known each other our whole lives and our relationship is already strong.  I don’t think that signing a document and becoming husband and wife will drastically change anything in our relationship.”

“Because it’s bound to happen,” Grace said.

“Exactly,” Svea nodded her head.  “Like I know it will change, but not by much.  And Elias and I talk about what we want and what we want to do, and we sort of just, like…already know.  So it’s not going be this, like, seismic shift.  He’ll still be Elias.  He’ll just be my husband, Elias.”

Grace nodded her head.  She thought long and hard about what Svea was saying.  She envied Svea, somewhat, because she also had good role models in her parents to base a marriage off of.  Grace didn’t really have that luxury – though she had her mom and her step-dad now, but that was different.  Because after everything that happened in the divorce, Grace couldn’t look at marriage the same way.  “Do you ever look to your parents and what they went through?”

“Somewhat.  I mean my mom uprooted her whole life for my dad.  She moved to a foreign country and learned the language and brought up two daughters in a small town…I don’t think they would have lasted if she didn’t know my dad loved her unconditionally like Elias loves me now,” Svea explained.  “I mean they obviously weren’t perfect but they provide a great example.  Same with Elias’s parents.  I think they provided a good example for him.”

“When I think about my mom and dad, and what happened with them, it doesn’t make me scared about Brock and I, because I know we’re different,” Grace began.  “But what gets me scared is, like, the possibility.  Like there’s always a possibility we could end up like them.”

Svea shook her head.  “You can’t wage your happiness on a possibility, Grace,” she said sternly.  “If we go by that logic, of possibilities, that means there’s a possibility that Elias would cheat on me and break us up.”

“That would never happen.  Elias would never do that to you.”

“Exactly,” Svea said.  “You and Brock are nothing like your parents.  So let me ask you the same question.  What do you think your marriage with Brock will be like?”

Unlike Svea, who answered with one word in a heartbeat, Grace thought about it for a while.  It wasn’t because she wasn’t confident in their relationship – she was – and it wasn’t because she couldn’t see herself married to Brock – she could – but it was more so because what she had with Brock was indescribable.  It had all happened pretty quickly, but everything about it felt right, and felt like it was supposed to happen.  Marriage would feel the same way.  Having kids would feel the same way.  “Comfortable,” Grace repeated Svea’s word.  “Because he gives me a sense of comfort than no-one else has.  He makes me feel safe and happy all the time.  And because we want the same things.  We always have.”

Svea smiled.  “See?  Comfort isn’t a bad thing.  Not everything has to be a rollercoaster.”

Grace nodded.  She knew Svea was right.  She just wished she didn’t have such bad examples to base a marriage on.  Svea was wise and knew these things because she had good examples.  “Has Elias ever brought up marriage?”

Svea smirked slightly, grabbing her water to take a sip so she could avoid the question.  Grace wiggled in her seat excitedly, knowing the answer based on her response.  “In passing, mostly.  We were in bed once, too.”

“Oh God, did he propose once when you two were having sex?”

Svea snorted.  “No, thank God.  Nothing awkward like that.  It was more so, like…” she trailed off, wondering if she should even say anything.  She told Grace pretty much everything these days.  “When we get married, so and so…” she mimicked Elias’s voice.  

“Ah, I get it,” Grace nodded.  “I once gave Brock a blowjob so good he called me his wife afterwards.”

Svea burst out laughing, which caused Grace to laugh as well.  Both of the girls had to wipe away tears and take a drink of water before they could resume talking.  “Brock would totally do something like that,” Svea commented.  

“I know.  He’s so predictable,” Grace rolled her eyes playfully.  “Is it weird these things happen with our boyfriends during sex?  I swear they only share one brain cell.”

“They definitely do, but we love them for it.”

>< >< ><

“Do you want to marry me?”

If Svea was a dog, her ears would have perked up like someone was opening the treat bag.  She and Elias had finished dinner and had been cuddling on the couch when Svea thought they needed a snack and went to go microwave a bag of popcorn.  The question didn’t make her nervous because she knew the answer.  If anything, she wondered what exactly it would lead to.  “Of course I do.”

“Now or eventually?” he asked again.

“Eventually,” she answered.

“Why not now?”

Svea poured the popcorn into the bowl.  “Because I don’t know what I’m going with my life yet, and I think it’s important to establish that before I get married.”

“So if you establish it, we would be able to get married?” he asked, using her logic.

“Eliiiiaaaaas…” she elongated his name, taking the bowl and bringing it back to the couch.  He sounded like a four year old with all of his questions.  “What’s this about?”

“I’m just wondering when we can get married,” he said like it was so simple.  

“Why are you wondering that?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Elias, we’re only twenty-two,” Svea said.  She wanted to turn the tables.  “And besides, do you want to marry me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my soulmate,” he said automatically.  “Because I love you more than anything.  And we waited long enough to get together, so why wait to get married?”

“Elias…” she whispered.  Instead of sitting down by his side like she had been, she straddled his lap.  It brought them much closer, of course, and Svea could look at him face-to-face.  She brought her hands up to cradle his face.  “Listen to me.  I love you.  I want to marry you.  There’s no doubt in my mind about that, okay?  None whatsoever.  But there are a lot of things happening this year between me and my future and you and your contract,” she said.  “I feel…I feel like once all of that is…I don’t know, settled, then we can start seriously think about getting married.  And I can’t do that when everything is up in the air with me.”

Elias moved into her touch, eventually nodding his head.  He looked so cute and his lips were so pouty, Svea felt like kissing him right then.  But she knew she couldn’t until they finished their very serious conversation.  “I just don’t want to wait.  I’ve already waited too long for you, you know?” he asked.

“I know.  But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not be,” he mumbled, leaning forward to rest his head against her chest.  She moved her hands so one was still cradling his face while she ran her fingers through his hair with the other.  “I hope you don’t think I’m pressuring you or anything.”

“You’re not.”

“I just really want to marry you.  I really want you to be my wife.  I know it’s probably stupid of me but I don’t care how young we are.  I would’ve married you at eighteen.”

Svea smiled.  “If we hadn’t denied our feelings for each other we probably would have been dumb and done it,” she laughed.  “But you’ve gotta get me a ring first.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.  I’ll make sure the ring is bigger than your eyeball.”

“And you still gotta kneel.  I want the whole kit and kaboodle.  I don’t care that I know it’s happening.  You still have to kneel and ask me.”

She felt Elias smile against her, giggling slightly.  “I plan on it.  I meant it when I said that time in Stockholm wasn’t the last time I would kneel in front of you.”

“Good,” Svea smiled.  

“But we can still get a pet, right?”

Svea snorted.  She was very, very, very well aware of how much he wanted a pet.  With Diesel, Whiskey, and Tequila far away in Sweden with Fanny and Emil, he had limited access to animals.  And after spending practically the entire summer with them, he was desperate for some animal contact.  Grace bringing Pippa around was always nice, but it wasn’t enough.  He couldn’t cuddle with Pippa whenever he wanted.  Pippa wasn’t at his home.  “Elias.”

“What if I brought home an iguana one day?”

“No,” she said loudly, pulling away from him so his head wasn’t on her chest anymore.  He had a cheeky smile on his face.  “I told you to stop sending me reptiles to adopt.”

“But what if—”

“If you bring home an iguana or a reptile or God forbid a snake, you’re not allowed to marry me anymore.”

“Whooooooaaaaaa whoa whoa hey hey hey, let’s not get crazy here,” he held up his hands.  “Okay, I’ll stop sending the reptiles.  But that means I can send you more dogs.”

“Okay, deal,” she smiled, finally getting her opportunity to kiss him.  “You’re lucky I’m already crazy for you, because you’re gonna drive me crazy.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed happily, snaking his hands up her shirt.  “I’m crazy for you too.  And I can think of a few crazy things we can get up to right now.”

>< >< >< >< ><

“Elias—”

“—Svea—”

“—Elias we’re already late—”

“—Pull up your dress—"

“—Eli—oh, oh Jesus,” Svea felt herself getting pushed against their bedroom’s glass window.  Elias was behind her pulling her dress up and bunching it around her hips.  She could hear the buckle of his belt clink as he rushed to get it unbuckled.  “Elias—”

“Bend over.”

She let out a hot sigh as she did what she was told, trying to grip onto the glass as she bent over slightly, her ass sticking out and grinding on Elias’s already hard member.  She could feel his hand on her ass, slipping her lace panties to the side.  She’d bought them specifically for tonight.  No set, because she wasn’t wearing a bra (only boob tape, as per Grace and her tailor).  She’d planned on surprising Elias after the gala but he apparently had other plans.  She felt his fingers play with her folds, letting out a mewl at his teasing to get her wet, eventually slipping two fingers inside of her, causing her to cry out.  “That feels good, Elias,” she whispered, looking back at him.

“You like that?” he asked, to which she nodded her head.  “You think looking that sexy in this dress wasn’t gonna make me do this?”

She smiled slightly.  “I knew it would.  Just thought you’d be able to wait,” she smiled devilishly.

“Nuh uh,” Elias shook his head, curling his fingers and making her visibly shiver.  “No waiting.  Can’t wait.”

“Then fuck me already.”

Elias entered her with such force that they crashed together against the glass.  Svea let out a loud moan as he filled her up, feeling his hot breath right behind her ear as her own hot breath fogged up the glass in front of her mouth.  She absolutely loved the feeling of him filling her up – always had, always would – but this was different.  This was hot and fast and raw and rough, and she liked it, God did she like it.  “Fill me up, Elias,” she breathed out.  “Fill me up and fuck me.”

He crashed into her hips again, and she sent out another shout.  His body pressed up against hers gave her little room to move but she liked it.  Another crash.  Another shout.  Another crash.  Another shout.  On and on and on, the more shouts and moans escaped her body without her having any control over them.  On and on and on, she got louder with each passing one.  He could see her knuckles turning white from trying to grip the glass unsuccessfully.  “You like being fucked like this?” he mumbled into her ear.

“Yeeesssssssss,” she nodded.  

“How much?”

“So much,” she breathed out.  “I love it when you fuck me hard, Elias.  I love it.  It’s so good.  It’s so fucking good.”

It wasn’t meant to last long – rendezvouses like this never did – and so with a bite of the neck and an arch of the back and a slip of Elias’s hand around to her core, rubbing and teasing, Svea came undone, coming loudly and shaking as she tried to keep her balance.  She could feel his breaths shorten, and soon after, he came inside of her, hot and wet and causing her own orgasm to last longer.  As they tried to catch their breaths, Svea could feel Elias’s lips on the open skin of her back, placing soft, tender, loving kisses along it as they came down from their highs.  

Elias’s lips moved from her spine to her shoulder blades and along her neck.  “I love you,” he whispered softly, placing a quick kiss on her jawline.  

The fact that he was still inside her made it that much more tender to her.  With her skirt still bunched up and the heat still pulsating in her core – evidence of what they’d just done – it was a nice bring-me-down, a return to reality for Svea who had just been seeing stars thanks to her boyfriend.  “I love you too.”

When he softened and he finally slipped out of her, she whimpered as she always did at the loss, though she knew that more would be waiting for her later.  She adjusted her underwear upon hearing Elias’s belt clink again.  After rearranging themselves, they looked at each other to see the other perfectly well-kept, as if Elias didn’t just fuck her against the window.  Elias had a smile on his face – a proud one, not one filled with lust like minutes before.  “We should get down to the car,” he said, though neither of them bothered to move.  “You do look beautiful,” he added.

“We clean up well,” Svea smiled back.  She stepped forward to help him arrange his tie and collar.  

“I can’t wait to see you in a wedding dress,” Elias said, looking down at her.

Svea looked up.  “Yeah?”

He nodded, clasping her hand in his.  “Yeah.”

***

“Svea, you look fantastic!” Jacob Markstrom smiled as he bent down to hug her.  Almost the entire team and their significant others had sad variations of the same thing to her as they saw her, so she knew she had picked the right dress.  She and Elias were one of the last couples to arrive, but it seemed like things were running slightly behind schedule anyway because of people trying to find their seats in the giant room.  It saved them, really.

“Thanks Jacob,” Svea smiled.  “You look quite dapper yourself.  A change from the scruffy bear you turn into when we’re back in Sweden.”

He let out a hearty laugh before moving on to greet Elias.  Svea looked around the room to see it already almost full of people mingling.  The stage was lit up in blue and green lights, and the DJ was playing music in the background of everything else that was happening.  There were already food stations open in the middle of the room.  Svea wondered if the boys could eat before they had to go their designated stations – she knew Elias and Brock were going to be set up in the photobooth part just like last year.  That meant she and Grace could gossip and get a good talk in before dinner, where they would inevitably be separated at different tables.  

About five minutes after Svea and Elias arrived, Brock and Grace did too.  They made their rounds with the team.  When Grace approached Svea, she gave her a good up-down.  “You look phenomenal,” she said before going in to hug her.  “Was Petey able to keep his hands off you?” she whispered in her ear.

Svea giggled.  “No.”

Grace nodded knowingly as she pulled away from the hug.  “Brock wasn’t either.”

Soon, the boys were called to their “stations” and Grace and Svea found their tables before going to the bar.  A lot of people were approaching Grace because they recognized her from her father, and they asked questions about her and her initiatives and her uncles as Svea stood awkwardly with her, barely acknowledged or subtly acknowledged with just a nod of the head.  Grace knew how to work a room, so it was fine, and she tried to include Svea into the conversations as much as possible, but people weren’t interested in her as much as they were interested in Grace.  It was fine.  Grace came from a prominent family of billionaires who were famous in Vancouver for their philanthropy.  Svea was just…Svea.  To be honest, she somewhat liked it.  She could never be in the “limelight”, so to speak, as Grace was.  That’s why if she went into politics, she’d be an advisor.  There was no way she’d run for public office, even though she could debate better than the best politicians.

At one point, Svea and Grace unfortunately got stuck with quite the…character.  Young, brash, and somehow invited to a gala that benefitted children, he was making jokes left, right, and centre.  Most of them inappropriate.  Both girls wished he noticed their awkward laughs and buzzed off, but such was not the case.  He just had to chat up the daughter of Hamish Gillespie.  

“You girls having a good time?” Brock’s voice was heard suddenly as he crept up behind them, putting his hand on the small of Grace’s back.  Elias wasn’t far behind, smiling slightly.  

“Whooooa ho ho!  Brock Boeser!” the man exclaimed, doing one of those slap-shaking of hands boys always did with each other – if they were friends.  Brock had no idea who this man was.  “What’s up, Boes?  Just talking to your girl here about where the Gillespie’s are donating money next.”

“Hmm, really?” Brock said, eyeing Grace and seeing the look she was giving him.  “You’re talking to Grace about it?”

“Yeah, your girl.”

Elias watched as Grace rolled her eyes.  “I was just about to say it’ll probably be another arts centre somewhere,” she said curtly.

“And what about you?” he nodded his head towards Svea.  “Raya, was it?”

“Svea,” she deadpanned.  

“Svea’s looking to do public policy and work in politics,” Elias interjected, saying the information proudly.  

The man laughed out loud.  Like, actually laughed out loud upon hearing the news.  “You gonna be a political husband, Petey?  The Good Husband?  Like that TV show?” he joked.

“I don’t get it,” Svea interrupted before Elias could respond.  She knew what she had to do: she had to use the technique of playing dumb and not understanding the “joke” in order to have someone awkwardly explain why they thought their racist/sexist/misogynist/ableist “joke” was funny, thus shining a light on their horrible character.  She could bask in the awkwardness of them stumbling over their own words and seeing how truly ridiculous and stupid they really were.  “Can you explain that to me?”

She watched as the man’s face fell slightly.  “Oh, you know,” he tried to play it off.  “It’s just a joke.”

“What’s the joke?”

Now his face really dropped, but he still tried to keep a smile on his face, which just made him look completely like that Chrissy Teigen meme.  “It’s just…you know…”

“I don’t know.”

The man shifted awkwardly on his feet.  “Petey doesn’t need his girl working in politics,” he said.  “What are you even gonna do in politics anyway?  How’s Petey gonna feel about that?  Having his girl running around with a bunch of politicians?”

“I’m not exactly sure where you’re going with this,” Svea said.  She couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.  “What exactly are you trying to achieve?  Please explain to me how having a successful wife is so threatening to a man’s ego?”

“Does he need the trouble?” he continued.  “You can’t be out there…you…I mean, shouldn’t you just do what all the other wives and girlfriends do?  Be with the kids and tend to the house like a good wife?  Petey is the important one here.”

Svea was so shocked her jaw didn’t drop.  She closed her jaw, curtly, and closed her mouth, curtly, out of fear of saying something she might regret.  It was Brock who had to intervene.  “I think it’s best you leave now,” he said as calmly as possible.

“I—It’s not—”

“Leave,” Grace stressed.  

The man scoffed and walked off.  Svea could feel Elias grab her hand and squeeze it.  He had an angry look on his face, understandably, as he watched the guy walk off, back to his table and back to his group.  Elias would make sure to walk by the table to see the company they came from so he could make a complaint.  “What a fucking asshole,” he mumbled.

“What a crock of shit,” Grace piped up even louder than Elias.  She looked up at Brock.  “Can we kick him out?  I’m serious.  Can we go speak to someone so he’s thrown out?  Let’s go.”

“It’s fine,” Svea said.  

“But Svea—”

“Honestly, it’s fine,” she stressed.  “I’m going to be a woman in politics.  This won’t be the last time somebody is going to make a comment like that.”  Grace was still visibly mad.  So was Brock.  But they listened to Svea’s wish and didn’t pursue it any further.  “Let’s go sit.”

***

Despite the man’s horrible comments, Svea forgot about them for the duration of the gala and had an amazing time.  There were some hilariously funny moments that the organization put the players through, and Svea was laughing almost the entire night.  She had some great talks afterwards, as well, with Jacob and Troy and Bo and Holly, and when the night ended, she was tired but happy as she and Elias made their way back home.  Grace suggested they go for late-night pizza but Svea was too tired.  They promised Grace brunch the next morning instead, which was readily agreed upon.  

“I appreciate that you don’t expect that life from me,” Svea whispered as she stood in their bedroom in front of their mirror, Elias behind her unzipping her dress.  She’d already been to the bathroom to wash off her makeup.

He knew exactly what she was talking about.  He honestly wondered when she was going to bring it up.  They’d been through this discussion months earlier when Francesca made her comments.  He couldn’t believe they had to put up with them again.  “I know you do,” he said from behind her.

“I just…I haven’t gone to university and pursued a life and career in public policy or law just to be called your girlfriend and become…become a…a trophy wife!  A wag!” her anger was coming through now.  “And I know I shouldn’t be angry and—and I’m not, I swear, because I know how ridiculous he was, but I…still.”

“I get it.  It’s okay,” Elias said as he finished unzipping her dress.  “You know I’d never want to dull your shine, Svea.  I never want you to settle for anything you don’t want because I know you don’t want me to do that either.”

“You don’t…” she stopped herself, thinking if she should even ask the question, since he posed the same one to her when they were in Sweden after the entire Soren debacle.  “You don’t think I’m holding you back, right?”

“How would you?” he asked, his tone showing he thought it was the most absurd idea on the planet.

“From like, doing stuff with your friends.  Going out, having fun…I don’t know Elias.  Normal guy stuff.  Normal hockey guy stuff,” she clarified.

He’d been shaking his head since her first word.  “No,” he said definitively.  He dress fell to the floor, leaving Svea standing in front of the mirror in just her lace underwear.  “I see what some of my friends and teammates have gotten up to on the road and I don’t want that for me.  The only things I want in my life are my family, hockey, and you.  There’s nothing else I need.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” he nodded.  “You keep me grounded, Svea.  I don’t need to do that shit when I have you at home.”

“I just don’t want you to miss out,” she said.

“I’m not missing out.  Trust me.  I still have my fun but I have it on my terms.”

Svea internalized his words and nodded her head.  She turned around and began helping him undress, undoing his tie and the buttons on his dress shirt before moving to his belt, the clinking of the metal reminding her of their previous activities just hours ago.  “I know that you love me.  And you know that I love you.  I just want to make sure you’re living the life you want because I know you want me to live the life that I want.  Which is why I’m comfortable with telling you the next thing I’m going to say.”

“Which is?”

“If we get married, we’re not having kids anytime soon.  I’m not even entertaining the idea,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.  “Like, it’s not on the table.  It’s not an option.  I’m going to school and I’m working.  And when I’m ready, we’re having kids.”

Again, Elias was nodding from the beginning of her first words.  “I’m fine with that.  I—yes, I’m fine with that.”  

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” he kept nodding as she pushed his dress shirt back with her hands, letting it fall to the floor as well.  “There’s no way I can even think about taking care of a kid right now anyway, so there’s no way I’m gonna do that to you.  I wouldn’t put that on you while I go live my dreams.  You have to live your dreams too.”  He bent down slightly to give her a light kiss on the tip of her nose.  “I love you.”

“I love you too.”  

That night, as Svea was on top of him, under him, on her hands and knees for him, spooning him, and everything in between; as every orgasm coursed through her body from the top of her head to the tips of her toes like a tidal wave, leaving her a shaking, moaning, mewling, whimpering mess, she was shown time and time again how much Elias loved her, how much he adored her, how much he would do anything for her; and she was shown, more than anything, that they were in this together.

>< >< >< >< ><

Dear Miss Nilsson,

Congratulations!  We are pleased to offer you acceptance into the Peter A. Allard School of Law…

***

Dear Miss Nilsson,

Upon review of your application, we are pleased to offer you acceptance to the University of British Columbia’s Master of Public Policy and Global Affairs…

>< >< >< >< ><

“Stella!  Stella!  Speak!”

“Brrrrrrrraaaaark!”

“Gooood girl, Stella!” Svea gave her a treat.  “Okay, now twirl!” she did the hand motion, and Stella spun around and sat down when she was finished.  “What a good girl you are, Stella!”

“RrrrrBARK!”

Svea watched as Elias came up behind Stella and picked her up in one swift movement, swooping her up in his arms as he brought her up to his face.  He snuggled his face into hers, her wet nose tickling his skin before she started licking his face.  Svea laughed at the sight, and soon Elias was laughing too because Stella wouldn’t stop.  “You’re just like mommy, Stella.”

“HEY!” Svea opposed, pinching him on his side and causing him to wince.  “That’s not very nice.”

“It’s true though.”

“So what if it is,” she mumbled as she watched their puppy continue to lick his face.  “We should put her harness on her now if we’re going to take her to the park.”

“But before that,” Elias said, placing Stella back down on the floor before walking over to their fridge.  He bent down to open the freezer and took out a bottle of champagne.  Stella waddled over to him, trying to see what else was in the freezer.  “What’s that?” Svea asked as he set the bottle down on the counter.  It was an expensive bottle too – he’d really gone all out.

“You didn’t think I’d just give you that necklace to celebrate you getting into your programs?” he asked with a smirk on his face.  He took out two champagne flutes from a cabinet and set them down on the counter.  

Svea touched the necklace sitting pretty around her neck – the Cartier Love necklace in yellow gold with diamonds, of course to match her bracelet that she hadn’t taken off since.  “Elias…”

“And I know you still have to think about which one you’re going to choose,” he said as he took the foil off the top and began to uncork the bottle, “but we’re still going to celebrate.  Because you’re my Svea, and I love you more than anything.”

Svea bent down to pick up Stella and cradle her in her arms as Elias poured the champagne into the flutes.  “I did choose,” she said softly.  “I came to the decision mentally, like, half an hour ago and I was going to tell you at the park.”

“Oh yeah?  And?” he asked as he finished pouring.

She took a deep breath.  “The Master of Public Policy and Global Affairs.”

Elias smiled from ear to ear, handing her one of the flutes to hold.  He stepped towards her and wrapped an arm around her, cradling her and Stella against him.  “To you, my pretty girl,” he said softly as he looked down at her.  “My moon, my stars, my Svea.”

>< >< >< >< ><

@ThomasDrance: BREAKING: Elias Pettersson has signed a contract with the Vancouver Canucks.  More to come shortly.

@ThomasDrance: Sounds like a long-term deal.  Elias is staying.  Canucks fans rejoice.

@ThomasDrance: Somebody on the media beat just screamed.  Another danced.  One is just smiling as he’s staring down at his phone.  Just in case you were wondering how happy the people of Vancouver are.

>< >< >< >< ><

“You guys want to meet up on…let’s say Saturday?” Svea asked Grace on the phone.  She was lying on the couch with Elias giving her a foot massage and Stella sleeping on her chest.  

“Yeah, of course.  Pippa down!” she asserted.  “What were you thinking?”

“We kind of want to go super-fancy,” Svea said, knowing that Grace would be able to help with that.  “Like, really nice outfits.  And I want Brock in a suit.”

“I’ll make reservations at Hawksworth,” Grace said like it was the easiest thing in the world – because it was for her.  Everyone else would need to wait weeks.  But not her.  “And I’ll stuff Brock too-many-cookies-gut into a suit, no problem.”

“Make the reservation for 1:30 in the afternoon.  But can we meet at 11?”

“Of course…” Grace said.  “Why so early?”

“For Stella.  We need to show you something with Stella.”

>< >< >< >< ><

Elias waved Brock down outside once he noticed his car.  Elias was dressed in his best suit, one he’d know he’d never wear again from now on.  He watched as Brock parallel parked the car on the street.  Grace got out first, wearing a very pretty and fitted yellow dress with a boatneck and cap sleeves, looking especially elegant.  Her hair was sleeked back into a low bun, and she had a pair of high-heeled sandals on to complete her look.  Brock followed behind her, wearing one of his particularly well-tailored and fitted black suits, shiny new shoes and a skinny tie.

“Why’d you make me dress up?” Brock asked as he approached Elias, adjusting his jacket so he could button it up.  

“You know I like seeing you in a suit.”

Brock winked.  “I do, but you see me in one almost every other day.  Why my best suit?”

Elias didn’t have the opportunity to answer, because Svea came up from behind him to hug Grace and Brock.  They both bent down and kissed Stella as well.  “Do you guys mind if I leave my jacket in your car?  It’s getting a bit hot out,” she asked as she began unbuttoning her trench coat.  

“Yeah yeah, of course,” Brock nodded, moving to open the backseat door for her.

When Svea handed the handle of the leash to Elias and took off her trench coat, she had everybody staring.  She revealed the dress she was wearing: plunge V-neck, frilled outline, sequin-embellished waistband, flowy skirt.

White.

“Wait…” Brock held his hand up, not bothering to close the backseat door even though Svea was finished throwing her jacket in the back.  Finished and waiting.  He had a confused look on his face.  But then it suddenly hit him.  “Are you guys getting fuckin’ married?”

Svea smirked.  When Grace saw, she screamed at the top of her lungs.  Brock looked at Elias, who was now smiling and laughing at Grace’s reaction.  “Are you fucking joking?”  Elias shook his head.  “You guys are getting fucking married?!  Right now?!”

“Yup,” Elias finally nodded his head.  “You and Grace are our witnesses, and you may or may not need to FaceTime in our parents and siblings.”

If it was possible, Grace screamed even louder before jumping up and down and lunging herself at Svea, who was ready to catch her and hug her.  Brock and Elias watched as she kept changing “ohmygodohmygodOHMYGOOOOODDDDD” over and over again before she finally had the wherewithal to grab Svea’s left hand.  When she did, she saw Svea’s ring: a beautiful yellow gold pave ring with a sapphire halo around the centre diamond – a giant round cut that took up most of Svea’s finger.  She gasped at the sight of it.  “Oh my God this is stunning,” she said, inspecting it before turning to Elias.  “You picked this out?”

“Wow Grace.  You don’t have faith in me?” Elias smiled.

She turned to Svea.  “Our men have no taste.  You have to tell me who picked it out.”

“HEY!” Brock protested.  “I have taste!”

“We went to the jewelry store together.  I chose the diamond and he said to get it bigger—”

“—Good—”

“—and then I wanted the pave band.  But it was Elias who actually suggested the sapphires in the halo.”

Grace nodded.  “The sapphires make it.  They truly do.”  She gave Elias another look.  “Good job Elias.”

“Thanks Grace.”

“So are we gonna do this thing or what?!” Brock asked, clapping his hands together.  “Let’s get married!”

***

The picture was simple, and taken by Brock.  In it, Elias and Svea stood on the steps outside Vancouver City Hall.  They stood side by side, and were holding hands.  Svea held her bouquet by her hip, and in Elias held the leash for Stella, who was sitting in front of them, smiling at the camera.  They were smiling, too.  Formal smiles, mostly, but in Elias’s unabashedness, and in Svea’s absolute pure joy.

Elias posted a simple caption.  

💒

***

@of_pettersson: The Church of Pettersson could have married you!!!  Alas, we bestow best wishes to you and your bride!  

@peteyfan40: pettersson married? What a way to ring in his contract!

@canucklehead406: gotta love that the first thing elias does after signing a contract is get married. Remember that ice and dice when he said he’d never had a girlfriend? What a change

@vancitybaby: ok, so I’m not the only one who think elias looks super cute with his new wife and puppy, right? Like I basically sobbed.

@ThomasDrance: Signs a contract, gets married.  Bride is childhood best friend Svea Nilsson.  Congrats to Elias & Svea.  Bright things are in their future.

@BBoeser16: So happy for my two best friends and to have been there with them <3

@gracegillespie:  I love love.  Congratulations to Elias, Svea, and Stella.

>< >< >< >< ><

Elias and Svea cuddled on the couch.  Svea was in Elias’s lap and Stella was sleeping in hers.  Elias placed a kiss on Svea’s temple.  “I love you so much, Svea.”

She smiled.  “I love you too Elias.”

For at least a moment, everything was perfect.  

[sprnklersplashes]

hey who wants some good old fashioned early s1!bellarke fic?

The dropship is cold at night.

Clarke keeps telling herself that’s why she can’t sleep. Not because every time she closes her eyes, all she sees is Wells, or her dad, or Charlotte. She wakes up because of the cold, not because she’s choking on words she never said, or because her eyes are too filled with tears to stay closed.

No, it’s just the cold.

In fairness, it is freezing in here. The Ark really should’ve given them more supplies, but then she remembers with a silent groan that they can’t. The whole reason they’re down here is because they were already stretched thin. That doesn’t make it fair, of course. At least they have machines to make more blankets up there, and workers to run them. Down here they just spread them out as fairly as they can and wait for their turn. Or steal them, in some cases.

She walks in a silent circle, mindful of the others dotted around her. She turns around on her sock-clad feet-her boots might keep her warm but they’re far too noisy for this time-and looks at them. Monty is spread across two seats, his hand hanging off the edge and his lips slightly parted, his hair falling past his forehead. Jasper is next to him, because where else would he be, tucked slightly awkwardly beside the chairs with his back against the wall, a blanket around him. They both look so young when they sleep. They are young, Clarke reminds herself, but now they’re not pretending to be older. They don’t have to be. In sleep, they look like they did on the Ark, before they were arrested. There’s something unfamiliar about them like this, and so she turns away.

Octavia is on this floor too, wrapped so carefully in a blanket that it could only be Bellamy’s work. She looks different in sleep too, far less angry than she is during the day. But somehow, still tense. Clarke’s observed that she’s a light sleeper, and it makes sense. She can’t imagine how she could have lived like that for so long, her own existence deemed a threat.  Bellamy may be an ass most of the time, but she can’t blame him for being so protective over her.

Hang on she thinks. Where is Bellamy? Not that she cares, but he was in here when she fell asleep. Just before she nodded off she saw him, whispering something to Octavia, who was half asleep already. She turns again, her eyes better adjusted to the near-darkness, but she doesn’t find him.

She shakes her head and hopes he’s not off doing something stupid. She has enough to worry about without chasing after him.

She pulls her jacket tighter around herself and watches as her breath appears in white smoke in front of her face. Seriously, would it have killed them to add a heater or something? A second layer of insulation? More blankets? Warmer clothes? Anything. Sure, they probably didn’t have much time to plan, and they didn’t know what climate they’d be in, but still. It would’ve been nice to cover all their bases.

She tilts her chin up, her fingers straying to her bare wrist. She probably shouldn’t, but her mind turns up to the Ark, to her mother, who thinks she is dead because she wanted to spite her. Was she ever this spiteful before? Ever in her life, had she gone out of her way to hurt someone the way she has. She doesn’t know. Maybe she’s changing. Maybe the ground brings out the worst in them.

She shivers, and this time it’s not from the cold.

“Morning, Princess.” She nearly jumps ten feet, her hands raised instinctively to fight. Funny how quickly habits have been built into their bodies. Bellamy raises an eyebrow, amused, clearly, his lips curled into a smirk.

He may not be a grounder, but maybe she’ll smack him just for this.

“Is it morning?” she asks instead. Bellamy shakes his head.

“I checked out one of the windows. Still pretty dark out,” he replies. “I’d say we have a couple of hours yet.” She nods and ducks her head as he eyes her curiously. Her first impulse is to storm out and find somewhere else to sleep, but she stays behind, feet rooted to the ground. His eyes stay on her, even if he pretends they don’t.

At least she’s not cold anymore, thanks to the hot flush on her face.

“So what are you doing up?” he asks eventually. He takes a step closer, not invading her space but not staying away either. “Couldn’t sleep?”

She shakes her head. It’s not his business, but there’s no reason to lie. She has a feeling she couldn’t lie to him, not with that sharp mind of his. Or the way he seems to see right through her.

“What about you?” she asks. “Do you regularly walk around the dropship at night, or is this a new habit?”

He laughs at that, soft and quiet. Different from how he usually is. Her curiosity is piqued, even if it’s just slightly.

“Only on nice nights,” he replies, and now it’s her turn to laugh.

They fall quiet again, listening, or at least pretending to listen, to the sound of their friends soft snores. It’s strange, living without the constant rumble of engines in the background, or the casual humming of lights and generators that used to lull her to sleep. Quiet means something new on the ground.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches as his gaze moves to Octavia again. She sees the way his jaw clenches protectively, but also how his face softens, how his eyes fill with affection at the sight of her. It’s amazing, this fierce kind of love she sees in him, reserved for her and her only.

When she first heard about Octavia and her arrest, of course she was shocked. Who wouldn’t be; a family hiding another person in their unit was unthinkable. But she was curious too. In almost a century, no-one had known the kind of bond that siblings share. Not until them. They were unique on the Ark, just as they’re unique on the ground.

“We should try to sleep too,” he tells her. He looks back at her, and the mask is quickly restored. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“We always have a long day,” she says. “Sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever stop.”

She doesn’t mean to say that part out loud. Her breath hitches, but when she raises her eyes to meet his, she only finds understanding.

“We will, Princess” he tells her, his voice both soft and firm. “We will. One day you’ll be sitting out on a deck chair with a drink in one hand and book in the other and you’ll be laughing about all this.”

She doesn’t think she’ll ever laugh about this, but she smiles all the same. It’s a nice thought.

“And you’ll be there too?”

His smile fades then, the bravado slipping away. Twice this has happened now, and both times it’s drawn her in. Like a loose thread on a sweater that she’s desperate to pull at. To unravel him until she gets to his core.

“Maybe,” he says, but there’s no conviction there. “For now let’s just get some sleep.”

He turns away from her, his clothes blending with the darkness surrounding them, making it hard to tell where he ends or begins, and settles himself against the wall. He leans back and closes his eyes, only to open them moments later.

“You going to stand there all night?” he asks her. “Or are you one of those people who can sleep standing up.”

A sarcastic remark dies on her lips and she crosses over, settling herself a little bit away from him. It would only take extending her arm to touch him, and the thought shouldn’t comfort her as much as it does.

Maybe she’s just lonely, she thinks to herself. She’s never alone. not with 99 kids asking her anything and everything, and certainly not with Finn hovering around her almost all the time. And there’s always something that needs doing, something that occupies her time. But lonely? That’s something she knows. The boy who was her closest confidant is dead in the ground, buried under mounds of dirt, and she spent the little time they had together hating him.

Oh God, the time she wasted.

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s voice snaps her back to reality, his eyes wide when she turns to look at him. He’s pushed himself up the wall and into a half crouching position, one hand ready to reach out to her. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she says. She wipes at her face and buries herself in her jacket, her arms wrapped around herself. “It’s freezing in here, aren’t you cold?”

He hums in agreement. Even when she turns her head away, she feels his eyes on her.

“Come here.” The command catches her off guard, so much so that she’s convinced she imagined it. Until she looks up at him and finds his eyebrow raised and he’s once again sitting, but shifted to welcome an extra body. “Come here.”

“What?” is all she can ask.

“Come on, I know you’re smart, Princess,” he tells her. “Body heat and all that.” He shrugs, playing it off like it’s nothing. Maybe that’s what it is. Nothing. “We can keep each other warm.”

She feels like she should roll her eyes, reply with a quip about how not even in his wildest dreams, but she can’t. Maybe it’s the lateness of the hour, or the fatigue and cold creeping up on her, or the lack of an audience. But she can’t, and she doesn’t even try.

“Just for tonight,” she tells him.

“Just for tonight.”

She shouldn’t be wanting this. She can take care of herself, always could. And besides, he isn’t her friend. He’s done little more than antagonise her and risk lives and be an asshole since they got here. He’s made it his life’s mission to make her life more difficult. He’s selfish, and a dick, and the last person she should ever want to be with.

But he’s sitting there and she’s freezing and the way he’s looking at her is doing something to her. She’s not sure if it’s something good or something bad. It’s just something.

So she settles herself down beside him and ignores the way her heart skips a beat when his leg brushes against hers. Her position is awkward at first, the two of them struggling to get comfortable. The dropship isn’t meant for comfort. But his body is and when she rests her head on his shoulder, he doesn’t complain. And she doesn’t when he takes off his jacket and pulls it over the both of them, his arm around her waist. They’re both too tired and too cold to, and there are more important things to waste their energy on.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare her, being this close to him. Not in that way. Not scared of him, just of the proximity to him. Feeling his breath tickling her ear, or her legs slipped in between his. Or his heartbeat, steady and strong against her side. Doesn’t mean that this doesn’t confuse or scare her, this feeling of complete serenity washing over her. Only means that there are things to do, people to lead and she can only do so much.

Besides, serenity is hard to come by on the ground.

“Don’t think this means anything,” he says, his voice murmured. There’s the Bellamy she knows. “Like I said. Just for tonight.”

And despite herself, she smiles.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replies, but he’s already asleep.

                                                                                                               ******

She wakes later than usual in the morning, the sun already beaming through the dropship door and dragging her out of sleep. She groans and buries her face in her knees, for a moment forgetting herself and make believing she’s back at home, ignoring her mother’s morning greetings. But her instincts and the Earth’s sunlight are stronger even than Abby Griffin, and her eyes drag open of their own accord. And when they do, she finds the dropship empty, save for Jasper, who she believes could sleep through anything. She shakes her head fondly and pushes herself up, despite her body’s protests. Her arms and legs twinge and her back creaks like the ship’s escape hatch. She’s had her fair share of nights spent on the floor and yet the waking up never gets easier.

There’s a noticeable lack of a body beside her. He must have gotten up before, and a few seconds spent listening confirms her suspicions. He’s outside already, barking orders in that unmistakable voice of his. He carries so much authority in his words, when he wants to. No wonder he was training to be a guard. She considers going out and joining him, or more accurately taking over, but something in her holds back. He’s got it covered, and baring a grounder invasion in the next five minutes, she has time to wake up properly. Besides, he can’t do that much damage this early in the morning.

He must have slipped out quietly enough, she thinks. And carefully, because she didn’t feel a thing. If it weren’t for the heavy guard’s jacket carefully wrapped around her body, she’d have thought last night was a dream.

But it wasn’t. She didn’t dream at all last night. For the first time in far too long, she had slept soundly.

And who’d have seen that coming?

[fbfh]

hey, sailor - leo x daughter of poseidon

genre: a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff, a lot of mermaids lol

word count: 2.4k

au: none really, you have mermaid powers as a daughter of poseidon if that counts lmao

pairing: Leo x Daughter of Poseidon

requested: yeeyee !! hope u enjoy xoxo

warnings: uh brief mention of your step dad leaving when you were younger, an interaction with your best friend doesn’t go as planned, percy’s grappling with rlly complicated feelings towards his dad and new sister 

summary: Percy, Annabeth, and Leo all get a little more than they bargained for when they bring Percy’s half sister back to camp Halfblood, and Leo remembers why he had such a huge crush on Ariel growing up. 

reccomended songs: hurricane drunk - florence + the machine, sinkin’ in - cody simpson, deep sea ambiance

a/n: as soon as i got this request my dormant mermaid phase woke up from a sound sleep 

requests r open uwu

"...And you know what he said to me? He says, 'kid, I think it's time you met your sister'. I have a freaking sister, and that two timing piece harpy sh-"

"Okay, Percy, why don't you cool off a little before we leave. Come on, we'll grab a drink or something while Leo finishes getting ready." 

Annabeth takes her boyfriend's hand, and leads him to the nearest drink cooler. Leo turns back to the car they're going to take, and continues loading in the rest of the supplies. He, for one, is excited to meet Percy’s sister. His first thought was ‘hope she’s hot’, which he blurted out before he could stop himself, and was met with a killer glare from both of them. He’s not trying to be insensitive, finding out you have siblings you didn’t know about is kind of traumatic. I mean, hey, Leo’s family went from zero to sixty in one day - literally. Okay, not quite sixty, but only child to one of eight is still a pretty big jump. 

A little while later, they’re ready to go. Leo offers to drive, so Percy and Annabeth can sit in back and try to sort out Percy’s feelings. After a couple hours of driving and emotional conversations, most of which Leo just listened to - Annabeth seemed to have a good hold on this, and Leo didn’t want to overstep his bounds again - they arrived in Cape Cod. At this point, the gist seems to be that Percy knows if he should be mad at anyone, it’s his dad. They park in the driveway of the address Chiron gave them. They get out of the car, and look up at the house. It’s gray with white trimming, two or three stories, with a balcony porch on the upper floor - a normal, small town New England house, as far as they could tell. They seemed to take a collective breath, and approached the door. 

You’re breathing fast, trying to hold back the floodgates of emotion, when your bare feet hit the sand. You drop your bag, taking in the familiar, secluded stretch of the Cape. A big wall of jagged rocks to your left separates this part of the beach from the others. The old wooden stairs and their faded white paint that connected the low cliff to the sand below are hidden by plant life, so most people don’t even know this area existes. You’ve been coming here regularly since you were nine or ten. So many important parts of your life happened on these shores. You could just tell your mom ‘I’m going to my beach’, and she’d know right where you are. You finish pulling off your shorts and rush towards the water in your swimsuit. You’re met with immediate relief as soon as the water touches your skin. If it was possible to have an emotional support location, you did. 

You feel it happen as soon as you’re waist deep. Bubbles and sea foam collect around you from the hips down and your legs get tingly and numb. A moment later, it dissipates, leaving behind a life sized mermaid tail. It changes slightly with most transformations, usually based on your mood and desired appearance, and you’ve noticed over the years you can change how it looks more easily. You don’t care today, you just need to be in the water. This time it’s a big tropical fish tail, its purple, blue, and shimmery gray tones reflecting both your mood and the impending storm clouds rolling in. You dip below the surface, and let the tide carry you a little ways. You don’t worry about getting lost, you somehow always know where you are at sea. You don’t have gills that you can find, but you can definitely breathe underwater. 

You finally sink to the bottom, and stare up at the surface of the water. The patterns of light remind you of the night light you had as a child. 

Your mom had ensured you were comfortable with water and ocean life for as long as you could remember. She must know other people like you, because sometimes she would have long phone conversations with someone called the Director. You were pretty sure he had a weird name that started with a K or C, but you could never remember. He’s apparently sending someone to bring you to a ‘safe place’ today. It sounds like bullshit to you, but you trust your mom, and your mom trusts the Director. Since you might not be back for a while, she said you could finally tell your best friend Wes the truth. 

‘Oh god,’ you think, wishing the salt water would erase your memories of what happened today, but you can’t stop the onslaught of memories. Wes has been your best friend for years. You helped him when he realized he’s bi, he helped you when your step dad left, you could trust him with anything. Or so you thought. ‘It’s not his fault,’ you remind yourself, trying futilely to stop reliving what happened hours earlier. 

You brought him to your part of the beach to go swimming so you could show him. You can still hear his voice, asking if you’re sure you want to go in the ocean, you’ve always been afraid of water. Once you’d worked up the nerves to get in the water and transform, you showed him your tail. Your heart broke again every time you remembered what he had said. 

“That is... incredible,” your heart had soared, there was hope, “I can’t believe you got one of those silicone swimming tails just to prank me!” Ah, there it was. The other shoe. You tried to tell him it was real, but he said he could see the mold lines, and there the scales don’t quite line up, and there’s the edge of the zipper. You wanted to cry. 

“I’m not gonna lie, you almost had me for a second. I can’t believe you learned to swim just to prank me, but whatever works, dude,” he laughed like you were having a good time together. It was too much.

You let out a huge underwater scream, and thunder rumbles in the distance. You sink further down, wishing once again that the salt and algae would erode your memories from today. 

Annabeth knocks on the door for the third time. Thankfully, it opens to a middle aged woman in a shirt that said Brooklyn Nine Nine.

“Hello, what can I help you with?” she asks. She has a strong presence, and none of them want to be on her bad side. Percy is still too nervous, and Leo seems to be analyzing wires poking out of the doorbell, so Annabeth introduces themselves, and asks where you are. 

“Who wants to know?” she asks. 

“We’re her internet friends, we’re surprising her by visiting a day early.” Annabeth replies. The woman doesn’t seem convinced. She smiles, seeming to see right through them. 

“Are you from camp?” The shock on their faces gives her all the answer she needs. She smiles, and continues, “She’s down at the Cape, the quiet part past the rocks.” They thank her, but before they can leave she says, “Hey.” She looks at each of them intensely. 

“Make sure she gets there safely. Take care of her.” They agree solemnly, and head down the sidewalk. 

“And tell Chiron I say hi.” she says with a smile. They smile back, agreeing again. 

They get to the Cape, and it’s full of people. 

“Shouldn’t be any harder than a Where’s Waldo,” Leo says. Percy’s head snaps to the right, and thunder rumbles. 

“Did you hear that?” he asks. 

“The thunder? Yeah,” Annabeth says.

“No, no.. someone screaming.” 

“I don’t-” 

“This way,” he takes off towards a pile of jagged rocks. They manage to get over with only a few scrapes and Percy surveys the empty beach. 

“She’s here… She’s here somewhere,” he mutters to himself. The dark clouds part for a moment, and Annabeth points out to the water. Someone was there, pretty far out to sea. She could just make out their shoulders and head above the water. 

“Gods, Percy, can you get her to shore?” 

“Ah ah ah, uncle Leo’s got this one,” Leo pulls something out of his backpack. It’s bronze, and the size and shape of a deflated soccer ball. He throws it into the water. It starts to sink, then expands into a small bronze and wood speed boat. Percy and Annabeth’s jaws drop. He hops in, revving the engine to life.  They sail out over the water, Percy directing them around currents and waves. They can see the figure clearly now, and they’re sure it’s you. You’re looking away from them, out towards the darkening sky. The boat starts to slow down, and makes a whining noise. Their eyes dart to Leo.

“It’s probably just a sticky piston,” white smoke leaks from the engine, “... and I should check the coolant, too.” He opens up a panel, and starts to tweak a couple things. He sits on the edge of the boat to get a better angle, and reaches into his tool belt. He pulls out a wrench, and almost in slow motion, feels it slip between his finger tips, and into the water with a light plip.

“Shit!” He covers his mouth, worried he scared you off. Three heads turn to where you were a moment ago. Gone. He feels that familiar shameful heat creep into his stomach and cheeks. 

“Sorry guys, I-” 

“You dropped this,” He looks into the water, and you’re right next to the boat, handing him the wrench. 

“...Thanks,” he says, his heart speeding up. Your hair is wet and beads of water glisten on your skin. Your red bikini top sure isn’t doing anything to slow his racing pulse, either. Your hands brush as he takes the tool from you. You smile, and the clouds part - literally. A beam of golden sun shines behind you, making you glow. His heart is in his throat, and he knows he’s probably grinning and blushing like an idiot. 

Percy stares at your head, poking up over the side of the boat. Your hair is dyed shades of blue and teal and seafoam that blend right in with the water, but your roots are dark. He takes in your freckles, your tan lines, and your eyes… they look like part of the sea - shells, or waves, or something. He watches as Leo takes the tool, and a smile appears at the side of your mouth - the same smile he’s seen in the mirror, the same smile he’s seen on his dad. He sees all these familiar traits and knows it’s true, you’re his sister. The realization hits him like a truck, and he’s suddenly choked up. Annabeth sees this, and places a hand on his shoulder. She looks between Percy and an infatuated Leo, and takes the reins for the whole ‘the gods are real’ speech. 

“Hi,” she says, giving Percy’s hand a squeeze, “I’m Annabeth, this is Percy, and Leo. We were sent here to take you to a safe place for kids like us-”

“Ohmygod, finally,” the tension leaves your shoulders and you sigh in relief, “you have no idea how hard it’s been keeping all of this a secret, trying to be normal…” You push yourself up the side of the boat Ariel style, and pull yourself in, the edge of your tail draped slightly off the boat as you continue, “I seriously thought I was losing it for a while…” you trail off, watching them stare at your tail. 

“You’re not… you’re not merfolk, are you?” The confusion on their faces says it all. Panic rises in your chest as you start to dive off the boat. Before you can, Leo grabs your hand.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. We all have weird powers, it’s part of being a demigod.” He shows you his free hand, and flames suddenly dance across his palm. Part of your fear is replaced with confusion. 

“A what?” you ask. 

“A demigod.” you look over at Percy, who’s speaking since the first time since you’ve met him, “Our dad is Poseidon, god of the sea.” You scrunch your eyebrows, processing what he said. Annabeth smiles at the gesture, having seen her boyfriend do it a thousand times. 

“Wait… our?” He takes in a breath.

“I’m Percy, your brother.” 

The ride back to shore is a little awkward, to say the least. They had finished explaining about camp and the gods and monsters a few minutes ago, and it’s been pretty much silent since. Annabeth sits next to you, and hands you a water bottle. 

“He just needs some time,” she tells you quietly, “Poseidon’s not really supposed to have children, and Percy got a hard time for it when he was younger. He also… he thought his dad was really in love with his mom, so finding out he has a sister so close in age…” You nod in understanding. She pats you on the shoulder, and sits next to Percy at the back of the boat. You scooch up a little closer to Leo as gracefully as you can, which isn’t much, considering you have to drag along an almost 60 pound fish tail. Leo looks over at you from the controls. 

“Weird day, huh?” he asks. 

“Yeah…” 

“So how long does it take to, uh,” he nods down and you flick your tail, “de-fishify?”

You laugh. 

“Once I’m dry,” you look up at the summer sun reemerging, a little surprised that it hadn’t stormed. Then again, if children of Poseidon really could make sea storms, it made sense that it had died down now that you and Percy were feeling better. 

“which shouldn’t take long.” you finish. You look over at Percy, who’s having a quiet intense conversation with Annabeth. 

“He knows I didn’t ask for this, right?” Leo looks back at them.

“He does,” he replies. 

“It’s so surreal finding out I have a sibling I knew nothing about,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

“Try finding out you have seven,” he laughs, shaking his head at the memory.

“Seven?!” your head snaps up to him. 

“Oh yeah,” he tells you the story of when he first came to camp, and you feel so much better already. Leo has such a comforting presence, the pain from all your problems softens a little just hearing him talk. You have a feeling you’re going to get a lot closer.

Little did you know, the feeling was mutual - and correct.

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (8)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.3k (this chapter), 26.5k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

It's a very long night. The quiet in the space between Phil and Chris where three people should be sleeping peacefully is making Phil's nerves feel stretched thin, like he can't settle. The wheel of worst case scenarios is off its axis completely; there is just one thing, one scenario, blaring in Phil's mind like an air raid siren.

What if they don't wake up? What if they're stuck like this, eyes wide and bodies stiff like boards? Phil never got the rest of that sleep paralysis story from Dan. He has no idea how it ended.

He's not usually afraid anymore, not about things that he deals with regularly in his line of work, but this is shaking him in a way few things ever have. He feels clammy, and he laments how his palm must feel against Dan's warm forehead.

“How long has it been?” Phil asks, his voice creaking like the floorboards.

“Few hours,” says Chris. There's no mask in place, just wariness and worry and a little bit of anger. Phil hopes that isn't directed at him - technically, he didn't even invite Chris or Sophie up here. It's probably a good thing that they are here, though, because he'd be so certain that he'd reached a breaking point of sanity if he were alone up here with a catatonic PJ. Instead, the tension between them is kickstarting Phil's anxiety over and over, revving it up like an engine that won't start.

It's not long after that exchange that PJ gasps, sitting up and scrabbling at his chest like he's trying to get something off of it. Phil could almost cry with relief.

Chris crawls over and takes PJ's hands in his, resting their foreheads together and attempting a shaky smile. It's so intimate that Phil has to look away, rove his gaze over Dan's pretty face and wait for them to wake, too.

“Fuck,” PJ is saying, his voice so shaky that Phil can almost feel it. “Fuck, fuck, that was - Chris, we can't stay here.”

“Shh, we'll leave soon,” Chris promises. “You okay?”

“Obviously I'm not fucking okay, am I?”

“No need to be a dick about it,” Chris says sharply. Now Phil really doesn't want to be present for this. “What the hell happened? You looked - you looked so frozen, Peej, it was awful.”

Another loud gasp, this one softer. Phil listens to Sophie try to get lungfuls of air and Chris torn between arguing with PJ and checking that she's okay. He trails his fingers down the side of Dan's face and presses them to their pulse point, because he's paranoid like that.

Dan's hand comes up to engulf Phil's, holding tight as they squeeze their eyes shut and turn their face into the floor.

“Hey,” Phil murmurs, turning his hand over so he can properly grip Dan's hand. “Hey, you alright in there? Not gonna throw up on me or anything, are you?”

Dan laughs weakly. “No. Fuck, that... that sucked.”

“Were you awake?” Phil asks, resisting the urge to keep running his fingers through Dan's hair now that they're conscious. They roll onto their back, holding Phil's hand to their chest, and take deep breaths.

“I was,” they say, quiet.

That sounds horrible. Phil has never experienced regular sleep paralysis, let alone one instigated by ghost stories and shared with practical strangers, but he's looked into it a little bit. He glances up to see how Sophie and PJ are handling things. They're murmuring amongst themselves while Chris starts to pack up their things, a furrow between his brows.

“Let's get out of here,” says Phil. He squeezes Dan's hand and Dan squeezes back, their chest heaving like they can't get enough air. “You guys okay to move yet?”

“Yeah,” Dan breathes. They sit up slowly, still gripping Phil’s hand. Phil gets both of them to their feet with only minor stumbling, steadying Dan with his hands on their waist. Dan doesn’t even seem to notice, let alone mind. “Fuck. Jesus. My head hurts so fucking bad, Phil.”

“Shh, I know,” Phil says, trying to emulate the tone his mum uses when he’s feeling poorly. Dan inhales shakily and leans into his touch like maybe it’s helping. Phil resists the urge to push their curls off their forehead again. “Let’s go.”

--

They’re piling things back into PJ’s car - after using the door to get out this time, because there’s no way Chris can manage getting three people out of the window, and Phil would drop someone - when Phil realises that Dan is just sort of standing on the pavement with their arms wrapped around themself again, chewing their lip.

“Hey,” says Phil. “Do you work today?”

Dan jolts like they’re surprised to be addressed. They have to think about it for a moment, but then they shake their head.

Before Phil can be the one to offer, PJ gestures at his car. “You’re coming with us, then. We’re gonna recuperate and compare experiences and all that junk.” He pauses. “Well, first, I want a nap. Are you okay to drive, Chris?”

“I can drive,” says Phil. PJ doesn’t dignify that with a response.

“I’m fine to drive,” Chris says, his voice still grim and a bit more genuine than Phil is used to hearing. He takes the keys from PJ, squeezing his hand in the same motion.

Sophie crawls into the backseat and puts her head between her knees. Phil can’t tell if she’s feeling sick still or if she’s napping in the most uncomfortable way possible, but he decides not to bother her. He watches Chris help PJ into the front seat and doesn’t bother protesting that Dan ought to sit in the front when their legs are the longest.

“You okay, love?” Chris asks Sophie. She gives him a thumbs up without raising her head.

Phil looks around for Dan, who hasn’t moved any closer to the car. They look hesitant and so young, suddenly, on the dark Rusholme street. Dawn hasn’t even broken yet. There’s no way in hell that Phil is leaving them here.

“Get in the car, Dan,” Phil says, quiet. “We can take you home if you don’t want to come back to mine, but I need you to get in.”

After another moment where Dan’s teeth dig into their lower lip, they finally nod and come forward. Phil holds the door open and waits for them to get in, messenger bag slung into their lap and knees comically high from how tall they are in the somewhat cramped backseat. Sophie is so small, but that doesn’t stop Phil’s thigh from pressing completely against Dan’s once he settles himself in as well.

They don’t even know each other, really, so Phil expects Dan to be put off by it. Instead, they sigh and lean a bit further into Phil’s space. By the time Chris has gotten them out of the city proper, their head is resting on Phil’s shoulder and their eyes are closed.

Phil can’t imagine that his bony shoulder is very comfortable, but considering Sophie’s snoring a bit in her ball of limbs and PJ has contorted into a weird position with his mouth wide open, maybe any pillow at all will do. Chris meets Phil’s eyes in the rearview and Phil grimaces at him. This is almost as concerning as the hours of waiting, as much as Phil tries to logic away the anxiety swirling inside him. Of course they’re tired - Phil is tired, too, and the bags under Chris’ eyes are even more prominent than usual.

He can’t help the worry, though. The same worry he’s been fighting all night: what if they don’t wake up?

Careful not to jostle Dan, Phil reaches down to press the tips of his fingers against the pulse point in their wrist. Just to make himself feel a bit better about it.

--

The weak sun has started to rise by the time they all clamber out of PJ’s car, and Phil is grateful for that. His dad, at least, should be awake in case the house is locked tight. His friends don’t look any less tired, but Chris has a mask back in place like it never wavered. Phil tries to do that, too, just in case his anxiety is burrowing through his skin and making his parents worry. He sees Dan looking around in vague bewilderment and makes a mental note to tell them where they’ve been kidnapped to.

Luckily, the doorknob turns when Phil tries it. He holds it open and lets everyone file in. Part of him wants to look them all over for signs of wear and tear and possible possession, but most of him just wants a shield between himself and his parents’ disappointed faces.

Sure enough, his dad comes out of the kitchen as they’re all taking off their shoes, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Morning, sir,” Chris says, the charm in his voice alarmingly good considering Phil knows he’s freaking out at least a little bit.

“Good morning, Christopher,” Phil’s dad says. His expression doesn’t change when he looks over the group, but Phil knows in his gut that he’s noticing Dan’s shirt-dress and makeup. He has no idea what his dad thinks about it. He also realises, to some degree of detached surprise, that he doesn’t particularly care. “You’ve multiplied.”

Dan flushes. It seems like they don’t know what to say, but Chris is on the ball.

“Just adopted a stray,” he laughs quietly. He takes Sophie by the wrist and pulls her gently along, past Phil’s dad. “Been up all night, though, Nige, so I hope you don’t mind us copping a snooze.”

“By all means,” Phil’s dad says, this time with a small smile that Phil is pretty sure everybody else thinks is genuine.

PJ follows with a sheepish little wave and Dan hesitates, clearly unsure what they should do now. Phil smiles at them and hopes it looks more sincere than his dad’s does. “Just go upstairs,” he murmurs, gesturing at his friends’ backs. “You can sleep in my room at the end of the hall - or with Chris in the guest, if you’d like.”

He doesn’t mention that he’s pretty sure Chris won’t be in the guest room, because he has enough to explain to his father already.

“Okay,” says Dan, quiet. They bite their lip and duck their head as they pass Phil’s dad.

As soon as the entry is empty of Phil’s little gaggle of awkward adults, the silence feels so much worse. Phil bends over to untie his boots and try to settle his heart, which isn’t at all working normally.

There’s a very pointed pause where they both wait for the other to say something first, but Phil breaks first. He always does.

“Look, we’re fine,” he starts.

“You don’t seem fine, Philip,” his dad says, and oh, god, if the full name is getting pulled out this early then he’s in for quite the talking-to. “You all look like you’ve been on some kind of drug binge, stumbling ‘round like that. I knew you would be trespassing last night and you already know I wasn’t very happy with that, but I figured you’d at least come home all pleased with yourself.”

“We had a bit of a scare is all,” says Phil. He kicks off his shoes and stands up. His stomach is rolling with that familiar stress of letting the people down who love him most, but it’s backed by the steel stubbornness he inherited from them. “It’s my job, dad.”

“Is it,” his dad says, flatly.

Phil sighs and hangs his jacket up on the coat hook that his friends had smartly bypassed to get to safety. “Yes. It is. I make decent money doing this, you know that.”

“I do.” Great, now his dad has resorted to short, dry responses. It’s designed to get Phil to start rambling, trying to fill that godawful pressurizing silence, and sometimes that works. Phil has had this conversation so many times that he knows there isn’t anything new he or his dad could say to each other on the topic, though, and he’s so tired and so worried that he just shrugs.

“So, there you have it,” says Phil. “May I be excused?”

When his dad sighs, Phil has the thought that it sounds just like Martyn. Irritated but still that unbreakable affection underneath it, that solid bedrock that Phil relies on. Even when he and his family don’t see eye to eye on things, there’s never any doubt in that love.

“Get some rest, Phil,” his dad says, quiet and on that edge of disappointment that Phil tries so hard to avoid.

Phil nods and shoves his hands in his pockets so he doesn’t reach out for a hug on his way to the stairs. The last thing he needs right now is to have a complete breakdown in his dad’s arms. If anything is going to get his parents to start actively campaigning for him to leave Brighton instead of just hinting at it every few months, it would be that.

Neither of them really love what he does. They love him, and always will, but they’re nervous about the laws that Phil breaks and the supernatural things that Phil actively invites into his life. He wonders if it would be easier or more difficult if they were skeptics.

Phil is so lost in thought that he forgets someone is waiting in his room until he closes the door behind him.

“Oh,” he says, blinking.

“Sorry,” Dan says immediately. They’re sitting on the edge of Phil’s old bed with muscles so tense that it looks like they’re about to jump up and run at the first sign of trouble. “I just - I don’t know, I feel so stupid, I just didn’t want to be alone, and -”

“It’s okay,” Phil tells them, holding up his hands like he’s trying to calm a scared animal. “I don’t want to be alone, either. That was pretty fucking scary.”

The stiff position of Dan’s shoulders relax forward and they nod, picking at a loose thread in their flannel. “Yeah it, uh. Kind of was.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” says Dan.

“Do you want to borrow something to sleep in?”

Dan blinks up at Phil, looking more surprised than Phil thinks is warranted. He’s been an alright host, all things considered, and he isn’t about to make Dan sleep in jeans and a face full of product. “Um. Okay.”

“We’re about the same size,” Phil says, well aware that he’s rambling to fill the silence in a way he didn’t let himself be baited into downstairs. He grabs his bag from the corner he’d kicked it into earlier and grabs a couple of t-shirts, a pair of joggers, and his bright flannel pyjama pants. He always overpacks when he plans to be spending a night or two in allegedly haunted places, because he’s had the unfortunate experience of getting mud on his clothes in a leaky basement and then just having to live with that.

He tosses the options to Dan and tells them to choose as he searches for a notebook. He wants to get his experience down on paper before he sleeps and the sharp edges of it start to fade.

“Bathroom’s next door,” he thinks to say as he digs. “Mum probably has some makeup, er, wipes? In the medicine cabinet.”

“Thank you,” Dan says softly.

Their footsteps are quiet and so is the door that closes behind them. Phil finds something to scrawl in and tries to ignore the way his fingers are shaking.

He manages to get everything on paper, from the feeling of hundreds of eyes to the bathroom lights flickering to how awful it was to watch his friends stare, unseeing, into the middle distance for hours on end.

Phil doesn't completely believe in ghosts, not the way his parents or PJ do, but this… yeah, he's going to give this one to the Manchester students.

Dan still hasn't come back when Phil puts the notebook away, so he changes at lightspeed into his ugly flannel pants and spends a few minutes considering whether or not he should move his pillow to the wall side of the bed or leave it where it is. He's overthinking this, he knows he is. He shares bed space with his friends often enough that this isn't a totally foreign thing for him, but Dan is such a new friend - with unreasonably pretty eyes and unreasonably big hands - that it's making Phil's stomach flutter with nerves.

He's finally given up on the whole thinking thing and gotten into bed when the door opens and Dan tiptoes in with a bundle of clothes under their arm.

“Oh,” they say, stopping in their tracks, and Phil almost laughs at the reaction mirroring his own when he came in. “Sorry, I didn't expect you to still be up. Er, I ran into your mum. She's really nice.”

Phil groans. He should have expected his mum to be prowling around to corner his friends. “God, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, she’s lovely,” says Dan. They look around the room, a bit awkward, before setting their clothes on top of the dresser. “Your room is nice.”

“It’s not really mine anymore,” Phil says, doing his level best to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He knows it isn’t the healthiest thing, to be so bothered by the beige carpet and white walls and neutral furnishings, but he can’t help himself. He’s never been comfortable with big changes.

He looks at Dan while Dan is distracted by a family photo on the wall. Their bare face looks so young that, if Phil didn’t already know how old they were, he’d think they were in sixth form or something. Phil’s clothes fit them well, just a bit tighter around the shoulders and stomach than they are on him. They look - cute, is the thing, and Phil stamps down on his sleep-deprived crushing nonsense.

“Coming to bed?” Phil asks, immediately making a face. The phrasing is accidental but, really, more Freudian than he cares to admit.

Dan laughs, so maybe it’s okay.

They dimple and climb over him instead of asking him to move, which has Phil holding his breath. They smell like mint and spice and Phil’s own laundry detergent and as they flop onto their back, their arm overlaps with Phil’s a bit. The bed isn’t small, and even though they’re both quite large humans, Phil is pretty sure they don’t have to be touching.

“You okay?” Dan asks, quiet. Phil doesn’t turn to look at them, because he doesn’t trust himself to have those hypnotizing brown eyes so close while they’re horizontal.

“I will be,” Phil tells the ceiling. “Are you?”

“Kinda. Is it always like that?”

Phil huffs a laugh and lets his pinky and ring fingers curl around Dan’s hand, doing his best to ignore the way his heart races at the action. “It’s never like that,” he murmurs. “That was terrifying and I’m going to have nightmares and, also, the video is going to be buckwild.”

“I forgot we were even filming one,” Dan laughs. “Is that weird?”

“This whole thing is a little weird, Dan,” says Phil. He feels his lips curving up and he lets go of Dan’s hand to take his glasses off. “Do you want the light off?”

It takes a moment, but Dan does respond with a soft, sheepish, “No. Do you mind?”

“I don’t mind,” Phil says honestly. He curls up on his side and tries to even out his breathing. His anxiety and crush and sleep deprivation are all coordinating to make his mind race, but he’s so very, very tired. He feels Dan’s warmth, just behind him, and that helps. After only a little inner turmoil, Phil is able to fall asleep.

[shellheadtmark2]

actually, because i’ve gotten a lot of new mcu mutuals lately, and i need to redo my 616 tony stark care manual bc i wanna tweak it and make some aesthetic changes (because i’m just Like That), things you should probably know because i am actually 616/marvel prime/main continuity-based.  i swear i’ll be serious this time.  maybe.

the original flavor tony is not going to be the same tony you’re used to from the mcu - mcu tony is actually more marvel ultimates inspired, which is a whole kettle of fish unto itself and that i have a verse for, but we’ll get to that at a later date.  instead, meet main continuity tony.

+  he started his path to iron man in a very similar way to mcu tony, in that he was injured by his own weapons (depending on where you pull from the sliding timescale, it’s everything from landmines to micromunitions) that damaged his heart and left him slowly dying.  we all know this story, right?  he built the first iron man to escape and the rest is history.

+  the difference is, main continuity was dependent upon the armor’s chestplate for a few years. the arc reactor ain’t really a thing in 616, instead we have the rt node.  similar in function, only tony could use it to do unibeams without the suit.  anyway, when tony came back, he took on iron man as an alternate identity, and told the world iron man was his bodyguard.  no one knew for a few years there that tony stark - handsome, generous, kind-hearted benefactor of the avengers who opened his home to them - and the metal-clad adventurer known as iron man was the same person.  it took a mishap with molecule man and a tiny red silk thong (no, i’m not kidding) for that little secret to come to light.

+  he was in his very early twenties when he became iron man - much younger than his mcu counterpart, and he’s very, very good at being iron man.

+  his relationship to most of the avengers - and heroes in general - is very different.  his best friend in the entire world is steve rogers - he’s had a captain america memorabilia collection since before the avengers pulled steve out of the ice (which is another thing - the avengers thawed steve, and tony has always idolized him - there’s no resentment there - and steve was not a founding member, he came in after the avengers had already formed).  his other best friend is rhodey, who was his employee-turned-military liason for stark unlimted (formerly known by many other names).  his other other best friend is pepper potts - they’ve never actually been romantically involved.  his other other other best friend was happy hogan, who died a few years back during the nightmare of civil war - which was much more us-based and much more horrific in tony’s universe.  he’s carol danvers’ aa sponsor.  he’s good friends with reed richards.  he’s been friends with stephen strange for years.  he and bucky barnes are fairly close and tony’s the one that got rid of bucky’s trigger words.  he and natasha have dated...ish, and are close.  he was never peter parker’s mentor, as his peter is a full grown adult, but peter did intern for him for a while.  and was on an avengers team with him before civil war.  he, steve, and thor are still the big three, but they have a friendship that’s been forged in the fires of really bad mistakes and they’ve come out the other side still close.  he knows the guardians of the galaxy because he was a guardian for a while during his big vacation in space.  he’s dated more avengers and x-men than you can shake a stick at.  and jarvis for him is edwin jarvis, his living, breathing, now semi-retired butler who served the avengers for many years and is part of the avengers family.

+  he was director of shield for a short time after civil war and steve rogers’ assassination.  he hated the job and he hated steve being dead and he hated what he forced himself to do so bad he literally erased that entire year out of his head.  and to get rid of the database full of superhero secret identities stored in his brain but you can’t tell me he didn’t have a more recent backup without it.

+  his first ai was named homer.  jarvis actually was pepper’s ai, for her rescue suit, and was never tony’s.  friday is and has been his main ai for years, and she has a hologram form.  she mostly runs the day to day stuff that doesn’t require tony to physically be there for the company.  which, also, tony is still ceo, he hasn’t handed that over to anyone, and pulls double fulltime duty as both a working stiff and an avenger.  his eyebags are designer.

+  he was secretary of defense for a year - he got himself elected when he found out someone in military research was reverse engineering and stealing things from the iron man.

+  he’s in his early 40s and looks younger:  being an extremis enhancile for a while and then undergoing a full-body reboot does wonders for the skin, apparently.

+  he’s canonically bisexual.

+  is known for using himself as a lab rat for incorporating experimental technology into his biology.  ask me about the suit he carried in his bones!

+  he’s 6′1 with blue eyes.  that’s, uh.  kind of important to know.  he’s tall.  he’s lanky.  and if you’re not a metahuman he might just can kick your ass, because captain america trained him in hand to hand combat (of which he’s very proud of).

+  the ten rings are literally ten alien rings used by his main archvillain, the mandarin.  they hurt.  a lot.  and he hates when he gets an up close and personal view of them smashing into his face.

+  he’s not as quippy as his mcu counterpart, and instead is more prone to bad puns and rambling awkwardly.  canonically he has depression, anxiety, and ptsd, and struggles with them regularly.  he’s also a recovering alcoholic.

+  take mcu tony’s tech.  then put it on steroids.  then make it the craziest scifi thing you can imagine.  and you’ve got the barest hint of what this tony’s tech is like.  seriously.  ask me about the suit he literally carried inside of himself.  or the time he could control machines with his brain.  616 is wild.

+  he’s been homeless.  and i don’t mean rich people homeless. i mean living on the street, nearly froze to death riding out a blizzard in a doorway and almost lost fingers and toes to frostbite homeless.  tony’s a Rich Boy but one who’s had a taste of how the other half lives on more than one occasion.  he’s also worked a regular nine to five like everyone else and lived in what was...honestly...a really shitty apartment.

+  he’s adopted, and he has a(n adopted) brother named arno.  his bio mom’s a former rockstar, and his bio dad a hydra double agent.  you literally can’t make this shit up.

+  he’s incredibly self destructive and self sacrificing.  if things look hopeless he’ll be the first to offer himself for the pyre.  because he has absolutely horrid self esteem.

+  he’s a liar.  he’s sneaky.  he tends to make decisions for other people without consulting their feelings on the matter - partly because of a tony knows best attitude, but also because there are people in the world he’d do anything, and i mean anything, to keep safe, even if they hate him in the end.  it’s kind of awe inspiring and terrifying if you manage to inspire that level of devotion in tony, because really.  anything.

+  he has a playboy reputation, but he’s anything but.  you either get casual sex out of him?  or you’re married now, sorry, that’s just how it is.  he settles and nests with a vengeance.  he’s one of those people that would love to be happy and safe and loved and married and all that happy shit but doesn’t feel like he’s worthy of it.  his issues with this have issues, to be honest.

+  if you call him in the middle of the night and need an evac and you’re on his People list he will come.  twice in two days.  dropping everything to go to the middle of indiana to do it.  if you are sad and text him about it he will bring you food.  if you don’t answer his texts he will find you and check in on you.  if you feel out of place and adrift he will try to buy your baseball team and move them back to brooklyn to make you happy.  if you die and he can’t cope with your death he will buy your first avengers indenticard for 2mil at an auction because he can’t stand the thought of anyone else having it.  if you’re really special he’ll call you “beloved” and “captain handsome”.  sometimes sweetheart.  please note these things are all canon.

+  he dies a lot.  it’s okay, he gets better.

+  his irrational fears are the dark and cockroaches.  his actual fears are waking up drunk and the suit becoming a coffin.

anyway this is a Lot.  and it’s not even really scratching the surface so.  i’m gonna just drop this on the dash as is.  and you know it helps for me to make dumb lists like this from time to time to refresh things.  anyway, i know it’s a lot!  i know it’s different!  but my (broken) ims and disco (shellhead#8434) are always open for questions and plotting.  and my inbox, too, ig.  so you know.  remember we’ve got a canon multiverse.  it’s real easy for me to drop him in the mcu to make your day annoying.

[avengerscompound]

The Five Stages - 3. Bargaining, 4. Depression

The Five Stages: An Iron Man Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Word Count: 2145

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings:  Age difference (not used as a kink), Drama, Angst, pregnancy

Synopsis:  Tony tries to deal with the fact he has a pregnant girlfriend and a pregnant daughter by throwing money at the problem.

3. Bargaining, 4. Depression

Watching Tony trying to balance you and your pregnancy and the fact he also was getting to know his daughter, would have been funny if you weren’t directly involved in that balancing act.  It wouldn’t even be so bad if his daughter wasn’t also your age and pregnant.  But she was and everything just felt awkward and difficult.

You tried very hard to be patient with everything.  Him, her, yourself.  But it was like everything that was involved with you was now just a side project.  Which was particularly painful after your first ultrasound.

Tony was right there by your side, holding your hand. Because of how early in the pregnancy it was they were doing an internal and you pulled a face and squeezed his hand as the tech moved the wand around inside you looking for the little flutter of life that was your baby.

She found it alright.  Boy, did she find it.  “Well, would you look at this.”  She says moving the wand around.  “Do you see this little flutter here?”

You and Tony look at the flickering black and white image in the mix of weird shapes and smudges on the screen.  “Is that the heartbeat?”  Tony asks.

“That’s right.”  The tech replies.   Tony’s hand squeezes around yours and the biggest smile breaks out on his face, making his eyes crinkle at the corners.   “And over here, is the heartbeat of baby number two.”

It felt like time stops.  You stare at the screen for what you were sure is an eternity but was really just a split second.  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?”  You groan letting your head fall back on the table.

After your appointment, you and Tony walk back to his car and he swings his arm around your shoulders.  “Think you might be able to stop speaking things into reality, honey?”  He teases.

You groan and run your hands down your face.  “Oh god, what if she is married to one of my exes?”

Tony starts laughing as he hits the unlock button on the red Tesla Roadster and opens the door for you.  You smack his ass as you slide into the bucket seat and he goes around to the other side of the car and jumps in over the door.  “Shall we see?”  He asks getting out his phone and searching the internet.  He flicks up a screen so it projected against the windscreen of the Tesla.  “Says here that Sarah Waker married David Lee in a small ceremony in Westchester two years ago.  Kept her own name I see.”  He muses.  “Here are some wedding photos.  You know that guy?”

You narrow your eyes and peer at the screen.  “No.  I don’t know him.”

He closes everything up and starts the car.  “Alright then.  So relax.  Shall we go check out some kinda baby emporium or bazaar and try and plan for twins?”

You nod slowly.  “Yeah.  Okay.”

“Twins for crying out loud.  You don’t do anything by halves do you?”  He teases as he pulled the car out of the street.

“God, Tony.”  You groan.  “How are we even going to do this?  You’re like a million years old.”

He starts to silently laugh, pursing his lips as his eyes glittered.  “You are a real little shit, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love me.”  You tease.

He leans over and quickly pecks you on top of the head.  “Lucky for you.”

For the next week or so Tony went about hiring contractors to remodel the penthouse to there was a nursery right off the master bedroom.  At the end of the day, he would sit with you on the couch while you ate, going through ridiculously expensive baby furniture and potential artists to paint a mural on the wall.  There was a little print off of the scan with the two little peanut shaped blobs stuck to the fridge and you keep catching him staring at it and just after he’d come to you with some new expensive thing he thought he should pay for.  He even brought up schools more than once.

Then he went to a doctors appointment with Sarah.  She invited him to come to make him feel involved.  Or so she said.  You spent the day working in the lab and when you finished for the day he still wasn’t home.  You ordered food in and ate it while watching TV waiting for him.  He got home at around nine beaming.  “Sorry I’m late, dear.”  He says, flopping on the couch beside you and putting his feet on the coffee table.  “I took her shopping after.  All her baby things were second hand and I can’t have a grandson of mine without the best.”  He stole a cookie from the plate you had.  “Then I had dinner with her and David.”

You tense up a little at the mention of him shopping.  Ever since you had met her, you had this feeling that she was after his money and she was so cold to you because you were getting in the way of it.  You tried to shrug it off though.  It was his daughter after all and you couldn’t get in the way of it.  Nor did you want to.  “It’s fine.  I learned how to use the internet to order food a long time ago.”

He pats your knee.  “You know you can get FRIDAY to do it for you, right?”

You laugh and clutch your head in mock frustration.  “Damnit!  I was trying to show off!”

Tony joins in your laughter and pulls out his wallet and opens it up.  He slides out another ultrasound print out.  “Look at this.”  He says holding it out to you.  “It’s an actual baby shape.  Head and legs.  Little hands.  It’s all built just doing the last bit of coding.”

You chuckle at his use of words as you look at the black and white picture.  It does look like a baby.  Especially compared to the weird blob shapes that are the twins.  You didn't think it is possible for a trip to a doctors appointment with Sarah could eclipse the fact he just found out he is going to have twins a week and a half ago.  But here it is.  Her baby looked like a baby.  It's a real recognizable thing.  Whereas yours are this abstract concept still.  You aren't even showing yet.  Just puking your guts out for half the day.

“That’s your grandkid.”  You say touching the picture.  “You’re going to be a grandfather.”

“I know.  And you know what’s weird?  I’m scared of so much stuff right now.  Being a bad dad.  Not being able to fix this with Sarah.  Somehow doing something that messes us up.  But the grandpa bit, not a big deal at all.  You get to spoil your grandkids right?  Buy them the toys their parents said they couldn’t have.  Give them ice cream for dinner before sending them home.  I can do that.  That’s easy.”

You turn yourself toward him and run your hand down his neck.  “I love you so much, you know?”

He smiles and shakes his head.  “Alright, no need to get sappy.”  He replies and leans in and kisses you.

That is how he balances things though.  He’d spends way too much time and money on one of you, then suddenly switches to the other.  You start to worry constantly about him.  About what he's thinking is necessary to be a suitable father figure.  You keep telling him he doesn't need to buy your love.  That he has it.  That the babies will love him regardless as long as he's there.  He can't seem to stop.  Work starts on the nursery.  He hires an artist to paint a mural.  He's designing tech to monitor breathing so he knew when they were going to wake up before it happened.  He even donates a library to a school to ensure they’d get it.  He keeps buying toys and clothes.  It isn't just for the twins though.  He brings things for you home regularly too.  He keeps asking you if there was more he can do.  Did you want to get massages?  Go to a spa?  Get your hair done?

For everything he is doing here for you it was more so with Sarah.  To the point, they started house shopping.  You tried not to question it, despite how uncomfortable it made you feel but the one time you do he said he missed out on so much that he owed her.

You and Sarah are not exactly getting along either.  It's uncomfortable and awkward being around her.  It makes you feel every second of the age difference between you and Tony when she's there.  Not to mention she always speaks to you tersely, like you aren't welcome.  Which makes you, in turn, speak to her that way.

So it isn’t a balancing act Tony was performing.  It was a wildly swinging pendulum of trying to keep people happy around him by trying to buy their happiness.

That's until you wake one night to find the bed empty.  You're now 16 weeks pregnant and having to see the doctor regularly because having twins is high risk.  You had found out they were identical which upped the risk again.  Things were going fine though.  They were both growing at a fairly consistent rate.  You were still working, but making sure to take it easy and not stay late.  Sarah was coming up to her due date and really the baby could come at any time.

You get up and put on a robe, heading to the elevator and catching it to the engineering lab.  Tony is right where you had thought he’d be.  Working on another Iron Suit.  Hyper Focused.  But the stress is showing on his features.  You approach him slowly and wrap your arms around his waist from behind.   “Couldn’t sleep, old man?”

He doesn’t say anything for the longest time, just continues to work until he sighs and turns in your arms.  He hides his face in your chest and his hands run over the slight swell of your belly.  “I can’t do this.  I don’t know how to do this.  I’m trying.  But how can I make up for all that lost time?  And how can I be the father I need to be to these two when I am such a fucking mess?  They’re gonna have a sister they barely know because you can’t be in the same room as her.  They’re gonna have a nephew that’s older than them.  I’ve fucked up so many things in my life and this just feels like the worst one.  Normally I can fix it.  I go to the lab.  I spend some money.  Not everything, but a lot of things that’s all I need to do.  But this, this is so messed up and I’ve got no idea how to fix it.”

Your arms tighten around him and you bury your face in his neck.  “This isn’t a money problem, Tony.  You can’t just buy her love and I’m worried about you.  I’m worried you keep throwing all this cash at her and that’s all she wants.”

He shakes his head.  “I don’t care about the money.  I have money.  She can have as much as she likes, I’ll make more.  I wish it was money.  She’s like you.  You know that?  Just keeps saying I don’t have to, it’s too much.  She doesn’t need it.  But if I’d gotten to raise her, you don’t think I wouldn’t have bought her everything?”

You start to cry.  The weight of the pain he's carrying suddenly bears down on you.  It has never once occurred to you, that with all the concerns you have about him being used, that you are the problem here.  Or at least a big part of it.

“I’m sorry, Tony.”  You whisper against his skin.  “I’ll fix this okay?”

He lets out a short laugh.  “Alright, dear.  Whatever you say.”

“I will. Or at least, I’ll make friends.  I shouldn’t have been making it worse like that.”  You insist.

He looks up at you and cups your chin.  “I sometimes wonder what I did to deserve you.”

You shake your head.  “From the sounds of it something pretty terrible.  You better pick up the act there, pal.”

He laughs and pulls you into a kiss.  It's hard and passionate, but you feel every ounce of the love he feels for you in it.  When he pulls apart he rests his forehead against yours.  “If you and Sarah could get along, it would really help.”

You give a small nod.  “I won’t let you down.”  Now you just have to think of a way to convince her of that too.

// NEXT

[lovemesomesurveys]

1. If we returned to a world without internet, what aspect of online life would you miss the most? Wow, that would really, really suck, ha. For someone like me with no life and who spends a lot of time on the internet... yikes. Sounds sad, but it’s true. I would miss Tumblr and surveys and checking my social medias and looking up random stuff and shopping online. I mean, obviously I’d have to adapt and move on, and hey maybe something good would come from it, but yeah just imagining that sounds awful haha.  2. What food are you craving at the moment? I’m not hungry right now, but I am thinking about that pizza I had Monday haha. It was SO good. I could definitely go for another.  3. Are you craving anything aside from food, and if so, what? I wanna travel. Last week my dad flew out to visit family and I was so envious that he was getting to fly somewhere and get out of town/state for a few days. I’ve only flown a total of 2 times, which was over 10 years ago now. I’ve gone along to take and pick up people from the airport many times; though, and each time I always get the urge to fly somewhere. I get this butterfly type feeling each time I’ve gone to the airport and I just wanna gooooo.

4. Where was the last place you went and what did you do there? I went to the doctor yesterday for my monthly check up on something ongoing I’ve been dealing with. 5. What was the highlight and low point of your summer (or whatever season you happen to be taking this in)? The only good parts about this summer was the few times I went to the beach, my birthday weekend vacation, saw some good movies, and my aunt (whom I’m super close with) came and stayed with a for a few days last week and it was really fun. Otherwise, I despise summer, it’s hot and miserable. I dread it every year and I just look forward to it being over. 6. What was the last change you made to your lifestyle? Hmm. 7. What was the last thing you gave up doing? Uhhh. I feel like I’ve given up on a lot of things in the last few years. Myself most of all. 8. Do you deal well with criticism? Does it make a difference if it’s constructive? I mean, if someone wants to offer some helpful, useful advice that could be beneficial to me that’s cool. Just don’t be rude about it. If I’m doing something and there’s possibly a better way to do it, then suggest that in a way that doesn’t come off condescending or rude. I’m most critical on myself anyway. I will say; though, it does annoy me if someone keeps telling me something that I should do that I already know I should do. Don’t criticize me constantly for it. Don’t nag me.  9. What was the last thing to boost your self-esteem? What sort of things typically make you feel good about yourself? My self-esteem is shit, but I know it’d be nice to get my hair done finally. It’s been over a year and it looks so bad and I always like how my hair looks and feels after I get it done. Like, I’m still a mess but at least my hair would look nice. 10. When it comes to food, do you prefer crunchy or softer textures? I like some crunch, but not hard. Like the right amount of crunch and crispiness, ya know? Depending on what it is, of course. I like soft textures as well. I eat everything with sauce, dips, or olive oil because I can’t eat things dry. Like my sandwiches, for example, I put a lot of mayo and mustard, but I also dip it in olive oil. Or like I eat eggs with ranch, unless I have country gravy with them.  11. Do you prefer savory or sweet things for breakfast? I just eat scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese for breakfast, sometimes in the form of a breakfast burrito. Hash browns are a great bonus. I used to eat like cereal, pop tarts, toaster strudels, granola bars, oatmeal, and waffles, but now I can’t eat a lot of sweet stuff anymore. Plus, I just prefer to have eggs. There’s more substance and I get something good out of it like protein.  Honestly, I used to never even have breakfast at all, I just liked breakfast foods like I listed above. It’s only within the last year especially that I started to eat breakfast regularly. 12. When was the last time someone disappointed you? What about the last time you disappointed someone else? I’ve been very disappointed in myself for a long time. I feel like I’ve disappointed my family and former friends, too.  13. What is something you can’t seem to stop doing (or start)? I can’t seem to stop being a mess or start getting my shit together... 14. When was the last time you made a new friend? What about the last time you lost a friend? I haven’t made any friends in years. I lost all my friends over the past few years.  15. What was the last thing you were excited about? What about nervous? I was excited about having my aunt come and stay with us last week and for our beach trip last weekend. We had a really good time. As for nervous, this is a long story time so grab a snack and buckle up:

I was full on freaking out last Sunday, after having a great, relaxing time at the beach, because as we were turning the corner to our street, we got notifications on our phone from our security camera, which at almost 10 o’clock at night, was like wtf?? Before any of us had time to check it, we saw for ourselves the reason why it was going off: As we turned we saw firetrucks, smoke, and our neighbors all standing around outside, some of which were standing at our door, hence the security alerts going off. We saw our house and our neighbor’s house that we’re connected to engulfed in smoke. We had no idea what was going on, but our first and only thought and concern was our dog, who was in the house. I start literally crying and freaking out because like I said, we didn’t know what was going on, but what I described seeing as we turned the corner was terrifying and my only concern was my dog. My mom stops the car and she and my brother jump out and run up to our house. My brother comes back out running to the car with my dog, who was physically fine, THANK GOD, but very scared. She jumped in the back with me and I just held on to her the entire time while my mom, aunt, and brother went back to find out what the hell was going on. Turns out that our neighbor, whose house is connected to ours, was working on his car in the garage and his engine caught fire. Being that our houses are connected, the smoke came over to our side and filled up our garage. It was so bad that it was coming out the sides, which is why it looked like it was our house that had the fire. When my mom opened up the garage, she said the smoke was so thick that she couldn’t even see anything. It was crazy. The firefighters had to do a walkthrough of our house to make sure it was fine and checked for carbon monoxide and all that, and had to use their big blower thing to clear out the smoke in our garage. Our house was fine, we just had to open the windows up in our house and air it for awhile. The smell was strong; though, and the smoke was very irritating to my throat. OH, and the reason why our other neighbors were standing at our door was because they thought we were home asleep and they were trying to alert us of the fire. One girl even jumped our fence to bang on our backdoor. They were banging and yelling for awhile, apparently. My mom and I watched the video camera footage later and saw everything and omg it was so crazy. You can tell how scared and concerned they were. And the smoke was so bad at that point that they were coughing and covering their mouths, but they continued banging on our door and trying to yell out to alert us. D: It meant SO much that they cared and were genuinely concerned about us like that. We couldn’t stop thanking them. Ahh but anyway yeah, it was w i l d. And this was just a few days after there was another fire a few houses down from us. :O 16. What is something small that you take extremely personally? Hm. I don’t know. I’m a sensitive person, so. 17. What is your favorite thing about your favorite person? I don’t really have a favorite person. I love my family and I’m close to some more than others, but I don’t choose favorites like that. 18. What is something you wish other people knew about you? I don’t know. 19. What is something you wish others DIDN’T know? Uhhh. 20. When was the last time you comforted someone who was upset? When my aunt and I get together it always ends up turning into a therapy session between us. We stay up late and talk about everything and yeah, sometimes it gets pretty deep. Anyway, I was just lending an ear and letting her vent about some things.  21. What was going on the last time you couldn’t sleep? Every night I stay up and watch ASMR, Tumblr, and do surveys until I fall asleep. 22. What are your plans for the day ahead (or tomorrow if it’s late)? I don’t have any today, but tomorrow my mom and I are dropping off my brother and his friend at a concert. It’s out of town, so I wanted to tag along for the ride. 23. Do you tend to be more grumpy when you’re tired or when you’re hungry? Both. Like, I’m always tired, but when I first wake up you do not want to talk to me before I’ve had coffee and had time to wake up. I also get quite hangry. 24. When was the last time you yelled at someone? I don’t know. I yelled out to someone so they could hear me, but I don’t recall the last time I yelled at someone. 25. What types of things typically cause you to cry? Blah some days it’s like I’m on the verge of tears all day and any thing can set me off. Other times there’s a specific reason, other times it’s a combination or build up of things that lead to crying. There’s various reasons. I’m just a cry baby.  26. When was the last time someone else cried in your presence? It’s been awhile, actually.  27. What is one thing that would make your life a lot better? Better health.  28. What is something you are grateful to already have in your life? My family. 29. How would you describe your overall aesthetic? Leggings, graphic Ts, and Adidas. 30. What is one of your most positive characteristics? What about one of your most negative? Does it bother you when you see certain aspects of yourself in other people, or does it depend on the trait? I have a lot of negative traits. I’m struggling to think of something positive. I used to be someone who was there for others and willing to help anyway I could, but I haven’t been that way these past few years. I’ve become such a shitty person these past few years I feel like. :/

[omness-yamarik]

Yakuza 13 AU Epilogue 2: Ava and Ira

Summary: Approximately 16 years after Xehanort’s death, Zexion and Aqua’s children don’t always get along.

Word Count: 1945

   Ava and Ira were the kind of siblings who got along by not getting along. They constantly squabbled, complained about each other regularly to their individual friends, frequently told each other they hated each other, and if they got wind of anyone talking smack about the other, they would hunt said person down and use certain skills their mom hadn’t approved of them learning from their aunts and uncles. After all, they had to live with each other. Based on that, they had earned the right to not get along. Anyone else who intruded on that needed to be taught a lesson.

    Aqua sometimes worried about how often their kids fought, but in one of the few moments where Zexion actually mentioned his childhood, he said he too had found his sister insufferable. Some siblings just didn’t get along. Ira and Ava were like that.

    But at times, the two kids, teenagers now, took things a bit far. Like the time when Ava brought an air horn to Ira’s orchestra concert. Or when Ira retaliated by getting his uncle Vanitas to teach him to make slime so he could cover Ava’s bed with it. Or any time their parents ended up getting involved. One of the few things Ava and Ira could agree on was that their parents were formidable. Particularly their mom. She didn’t get mad very often, but when she did, even their dad felt it best to lay low for a while. Plus her cooking was pretty deadly.

    Still, their family was a happy one. Mostly.

    Ira stabbed at his mashed potatoes. Ava was doing that thing again. That one where she reported his every single shortcoming to their parents. If he got an A- on a test rather than A+, Ava would be quick to tell on him. If he tripped and fell during PE, who would rush home to tell dad right away? Ava. And when cousin Invi let him try out her slingshot at school and he accidentally hit the principal’s sports car with a grape, tattling on him to their parents would be the highlight of Ava’s day. It certainly seemed to be the case now.

    “Well I’m sure your brother didn’t mean to,” Aqua said.

    “Maybe not, but since the window was open it ended up on the inside of the car. And it spattered all over!” Ava said. The infuriating part of this all, for Ira at least, was that he had no way to retaliate in kind. Ava was practically perfect. Polite to all teachers, perfect grades, graceful, never failed at anything she tried, never made mistakes; the only way Ira ever had anything to report on Ava was if he engineered it himself, and there was no way he wouldn’t get caught. He’d tried. Her only fault was her rotten personality, and even that was only towards him. Talk about unfair.

    “Ira, are you going to eat your potatoes, or are you just planning to maim them?” Zexion asked. Grumpily, Ira took a bite of his potatoes.

    “Plus, yesterday Ira forgot his music for orchestra. And he always talks about being a big-time musician someday.” Ava laughed.

    “I had it all memorized, so it was fine,” Ira snapped back. And then it occurred to him. The one thing that would get her to shut up. “But anyway, Ava, when are you planning on introducing your boyfriend to mom and dad?”

    If Ava had turned any paler, she would have become see-through. Got her.

    The thudding sound was Ira’s first clue that maybe he had gone a little too far. The slapping sound of his mother face-palming was the next. After that, he didn’t need any clues, because he’d looked over at his dad and started to sweat because he had just done something terrible. Zexion’s eyes were ablaze and one hand still clenched the dinner knife he’d stabbed the table with. Ira knew without checking under the table that Zexion’s other hand was at its habitual place at his pocket, where back in the day he’d kept razor-edged wires that he used in fights.

    “What’s this about a boyfriend?” Zexion asked, his voice deadly calm.

    “Dad, I, uh-” Ava stammered.

    “I-i-it was a joke. Just a j-joke. L-l-like Ava has a b-b-boyf-friend. Haha,” Ira squeaked, knowing that he was going to get hell for this unless he straightened things out.

    “Was it?” Zexion asked, his attention turning on Ira, who qualmed.

    “Uhhhhhh.”

    “Dear, Ava’s already 15 years old. It’s normal for her to start thinking about dating,” Aqua said mildly.

    “Thinking, yes. Not doing.”

    “Zexion,” Aqua sighed.

    “You didn’t start dating until you were 20.”

    “So, what, you’re going to make us the basis for when our children can date? Does that mean Ira’s going to have to wait until he’s 35?”

    “No, I just meant-”

    “You’re being overprotective again. Stop it.” Aqua’s word was final.

    While the conversation was over, Ira didn’t relax. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. Sure enough, his dad finished first and left the table, and his mom picked the topic back up again.

    “So, you have a boyfriend, Ava?” Aqua asked. Ava instantly turned on her brother.

    “Ira you little gremlin, you’re-”

    “That would be a yes then. Is it who I think it is?” Aqua continued her line of questioning.

    “Um, well, that is, uh-”

    “Oh come on. It’s not like we didn’t all see this coming,” Ira interrupted in spite of himself. “The two of you have practically been conjoined since elementary school.”

    “By that argument, you and Invi should be dating since the two of you are thick as thieves. Emphasis on the thieves, since you’re a couple of little troublemakers!” Ava snapped back.

    “Invi likes girls, and you know it! Pardon me if I haven’t succumbed to any raging hormones yet!”

    “Both of you, please stop before your father comes back in here to complain about the noise. You know he hates it when people start shouting,” Aqua said. She was completely unphased. “Ira, in the future I would advise you to think a bit more before speaking, as your father is quite excitable. Ava, I’ve told you before that your brother doesn’t need you to tell us his every move.”

    “But mo-om-” Ava whined.

    “No buts. If he really did something wrong or was in trouble he can tell us himself. Furthermore, if you have a boyfriend, you really ought to tell us. Better for us to find out right at the beginning than for it to be revealed suddenly in a way that is rather inconvenient for you. I mean, imagine if your Uncle Demyx saw you with your boyfriend and called everyone over to spectate. Or- or something like that. Point is, be careful what secrets you choose to keep, okay?” Aqua blushed a little as she gave her suspiciously detailed example.

    “Yes, mom,” Ava grumbled.

    “As for your father, I’ll talk to him. So go ahead and invite your boyfriend to dinner on Friday.”

    “But mom, Dad will kill him before he even gets through the front door!” Ira protested. If anything happened to his sister’s boyfriend, Ava would take it out on him in spades.

    “No he won’t. Like I said, I’ll talk to him. Now, try not to fight too much as you finish your dinners,” Aqua said as she stood up and cleared her place at the table. She paused to sigh over the new scar in the table from the dinner knife, but then she was gone, leaving just an irate Ava and an apologetic Ira.

    “Look, Ava, sorry, I-”

    “Save it,” Ava snapped. She shoveled the rest of her food down, still managing to look as dainty as always, and then she too was gone, leaving Ira to wonder if maybe he could get one of his uncles to help him move to Antarctica. Or maybe another planet, just to be safe.

    Friday night came and an air of unease fell over the house. Ira wouldn’t come out of his room, he was that scared. Ava was by the door, pacing and trying to keep a lookout for her boyfriend while also trying to keep an eye on her dad. Zexion might have appeared to be reading, except that he was scowling at the book in his hand as if trying to urge it to combust, and had not turned a page since he’d picked the book up almost half an hour previously. The only person who seemed unaffected by it all was Aqua, who hadn’t had work and had spent the day cleaning the house and humming along to the music playing through her earbuds.

    And then the doorbell rang.

    Ava sprang for the door. Zexion slammed the book shut, a behavior he never tolerated, and got to his feet with a glint in his eye that spelled trouble. He’d spent the previous evening talking to Eraqus about speeches one gave to one’s daughter’s boyfriend, and was well-prepared. Back in his room, Ira cowered underneath a blanket.

    “Gula! Hey!” Ava greeted slightly breathlessly.

    Zexion froze, uncertain.

    “Oh, is he here already?” Aqua asked. “Come on in, Gula. I was really glad to hear you two are finally dating. I was worried the you and Ava were going to be like your parents. I don’t think any of us ever understood why it took Sora and Kairi so long to get together.”

    “Mom! Stop that! It’s embarrassing!” Ava cried.

    Zexion was still frozen.

    “Well according to my dad, he kept getting interrupted whenever he tried to ask her out, but according to my mom, he was just super dense about it and then he chickened out too easily so she had to ask him,” Gula responded, shrugging.

    “Both sound pretty likely,” Aqua laughed.

    “Uh, mom,” Ava whispered, and jerked her head at Zexion, who still was in a state of suspended animation.

    “Dear, did I forget to mention that Ava’s boyfriend is Gula?” Aqua asked a little too innocently. Zexion finally moved, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

    “You think this is funny, don’t you?” he asked sourly.

    “Uh-huh,” Aqua said.

    “Hmph.”

    “Don’t be like that,”Aqua chided. “Here, I’ll help you make dinner to apologize.”

    “Why don’t you get Ira to come out of his room and help me instead,” Zexion sighed. “We want the results to be edible, right?”

    As both parents left the room, Gula swallowed nervously.

    “Uh, what just happened?” he asked.

    “My mom has a twisted sense of humor sometimes,” Ava replied.

    “Oh, okay,” Gula said, accepting that he wasn’t going to get any more explanation than that. But really, didn’t he deserve to know why his life had flashed before his eyes when he’d entered the room?

    But it wasn’t like Ava really could explain what had just happened. She didn’t quite understand that, as Sora’s son, Gula held a special place in the hearts of the Yakuza 13, and as such, was one of the few people who would ever be able to actually be considered an acceptable match for Ava in her father’s eyes. She also was still trying to process the way her mom had just gotten away with trolling her dad so supremely. She knew they were in love, but to think it was to that extent was unbelievable to the girl, and to pretty much everyone, really.

    All Ava knew for sure was that she supposed she would forgive Ira for this one. Mostly, anyway. She was still going to sprinkle a little salt on his toothbrush later, just for good measure. After all, she couldn’t let the pranks uncle Vanitas had taught her go to waste, now could she?