#oreo my first brain child...

[samipekoe]

this cat is fucked up

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Heels Over Head

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam

Summary: Young Don tries to impress Meloni with some help.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Don Allen, Meloni Thawne, Dawn Allen, Jeven Ognats, Barry Allen, Iris Allen, Wally West

Relationships: Don Allen/Meloni Thawne, Dawn Allen/Jeven Ognats, BarryIris

Additional Tags: No Capes AU, No Powers AU, College AU, Don Allen and Meloni Thawne First Meet, POV Don Allen, Romance, Fluff, Silly Antics in Flashfam

Chapter One: Origami

I didn’t usually run late. I stopped to grab a coffee at the campus cafe. But buying a coffee took longer than I expected. I ran across the quad with coffee before running into a beautiful woman with tousled hair and stylish sunglasses. She held me still while she looked me over. “Did I hurt you? I’m such a clumsy ox… Jeez, and I—. I spilled your coffee!” she shouted in Interlac. “Oh, let me buy you another.” I smiled, picking up the cup to toss it in the trash.

“No, it’s alright. I should be apologizing to you—.” 

“Please. My conscience will eat at me if you don’t let me buy you another,” the young woman insisted. I attempted to shrug it off.

“Sorry… I’m already running late for class—.”

“Give me your classroom number and your order,” she interrupted. I opened my mouth to protest, and she took out a notepad from her skirt pocket. I could tell she wasn’t willing to let me go without replacing it. So, I wrote my room number and order, not expecting her to follow through. I just wanted to get to class on time. She took her notepad, and we went our separate ways. 

I snuck into the back of my auditorium class and got my notes and pens together. 

The professor was a few minutes late getting started, so I didn’t lose any time. My professor started every class with music and had us journal our feelings. We journaled for ten minutes before touching on the curriculum, and I almost forgot about my run-in with the woman. The door opened, and I glanced to my left to see the woman from earlier creeping toward me. She sat next to me and slid my coffee to me. “Oh, um—.” She held her pointer finger to her lips to discreetly shush me. Then, I watched as she took her journal out and took notes as if she were in the class. I sipped my coffee and smiled. It was perfect. We sat next to each other, taking notes for the duration of the class while she drank a smoothie. 

She was peculiar in every way imaginable. She never took her sunglasses off, leaned in to sip her drink without using her hands, and silently clapped whenever someone said something interesting. There was an alienness to her that was so prevalent that her beauty didn’t distract from it. It almost felt like a fever dream to interact with her. When the class ended, she collected her things and left without a word. I followed her, trying to keep up as she rushed across the street and stopped at the park. She sifted through a crowd of children at an ice cream truck, reached into her bag, and handed the ice cream man a sizeable amount of cash. The children cheered as the girl stepped aside and let the kids get their ice creams. After they dispersed, she got her ice cream and pointed in my direction. I assumed she wasn’t talking about me, but there was no denying it once she sat beside me on the bench. 

“Do you want the Oreo Klondike or the wonky Spider-Man? Wait… Are you vegan or lactose intolerant?” she asked. I shook my head. 

“Thank you… Could I have the weird Spider-Man?” I asked. She giggled and nodded. 

“I have that class later in the day… I won’t have to go now,” she explained. I opened my ice cream and started eating. “Do you ever wonder what it feels like to be a child?” 

I tilted my head, staring at her, waiting for an explanation. She ate her ice cream, stopping once to clutch her head with brain freeze. The girl pressed her thumb to the roof of her mouth and ate the rest of her ice cream sandwich. I wanted to tell her she was beautiful, but it wouldn’t have meant anything… Not to someone like her. “You say that as if you weren’t a child. Don’t you remember?” I asked. She shook her head. 

“Me? Oh, no. I was never a child… Just—. I was younger and smaller,” she whispered, pausing with fingers dancing on her chin. “No… I don’t believe I was a child. I was something else entirely.” I chewed my lip. “Were you a child?” 

“I was… I think,” I replied. 

She leaned close, lowering her sunglasses until we were almost close enough to kiss. “You probably were… But you don’t remember,” she replied, “Thank you for having an ice cream with me.”

I opened my mouth to tell her something, but she stood up to leave. “Do you have to go?” I asked. She pinched my cheek. 

“We’ll see each other again. I’m sure of it,” the girl replied, “And maybe … Maybe you’ll remember what being a child was like… I hope you’ll tell me.” 

I nodded, speechless, as I watched her walk away. I finished my ice cream and stared up at the clouds. Something about that exchange felt so genuine and intimate. I didn’t want to forget, so I went over it in my head a million times. After several minutes, I decided to take the streetcar home. 

I liked the scenery. The trees and the sunlight through the dirty windows. It was a pretty picture of home. My parents were American, but we grew up in another country, Interla. I’d never known any other place. I watched the city unfold in colors. Blurs of lavender, pink, and greens. I saw murals and beautiful bricks. I saw my world at over one hundred miles an hour… And it was lovely. Meeting that young woman felt like riding in the streetcar. I met her when my mind was going one hundred miles an hour, and before I knew it, our interaction was over. 

How do you forget someone who makes you feel that way? How do you go on walking around after meeting someone so uniquely beautiful? There was no one like her. No one that I could think of. It isn’t every day you meet someone who gives you a task you want to follow through on. Not out of mere duty to someone… No.

I wanted to remember childhood in the purest sense to understand her. If I could return to the things that made me smile and laugh as a child, I could understand what she asked of me. I took it seriously. I had to. I was convinced she was curious and that I could win her affection —or attention— by giving her words honest consideration. It was my semi-scientific approach to a peculiar crush. I knew nothing about her outside of the things I observed. She was considerably wealthy. She was a college student… And she was kind. I didn’t know her name, dreams, or aspirations, but I wanted to know. I wanted to know everything there was to learn about her. I desired to unfold her bit by bit like a story. First, I became interested in the look. Then, I noticed the outward quality… And I would later fall in love with the everything. The truth. The person. The flaws that hid behind the cover. I’d never been more in love in my life.

[we-return-in-waves]

10, 15, 20, 29 for ao3 wrapped o.o

sdfhfdkgh i wish i knew who you were my beloved anon <3

answers below the cut xoxo

10. What work was the quickest to write?

spoken words by a landslide. i've talked about this before, but that fic, start to finish, maybe took me 5 - 6 hours at most. i had exactly one scene marinating in my head with no contect for a month ("Lee comes to Sunagakure, and Gaara comes to him in the dead of night." and associated like... four lines) and i was like hey uh brain what do with this? then one sunday i brained the summary text, took a nap, woke back up, and wrote the entire fic in one go. what you see on the archive is essentially it, i sat on it for two days looking for edits and just didn't feel like it needed any. one and done babey!

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

god there's SO MANY HELP. but with exclusively wips i've actually done work for, here's the list: from these bones, untethered, my insidious au, sing a song of sleeptide, a fluffy 5+1 things about sleeping together, The Grapes of Debauchery, another explicit comedy fic about drunken shenanigans, if it's the last night of your life, a one-night-stand-has-results fic, and my untitled enemies to lovers longfic based on the video game ghost of tsushima.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

skfhdkgh We Don't Talk About Fight Club for sheer volume of editing, i think. there was a point where it's the only wip i looked at, every single day, for months. i probably put more work into that fic than i did my master's thesis. i've probably read it over a hundred times and that's not an exaggeration, i can probably recite parts of it. i still reread it occasionally, i'm very proud it (plus like. art. pls, how can u not just keep looking???)

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

how dare u ask me to Pick One. i cannot do this, instead u are getting several of my faves. rekt

from spoken words:

Lee is brave. But Lee is not fearless.

no ok so like there's a LOT of lines in spoken words that i think smash it out of the ballpark and deserve line-of-the-year status, but this one is special because it beautifully encapsulates lee's entire character in under 10 words. the brevity! i will never be so concise ever again

from sailing stones

“You – you do not find me unattractive, like this?” Lee whispered. I have never once thought you anything but beautiful, Gaara thought to himself. For a moment, they remained, suspended in time, the world blurring to nothing around them. Gaara brushed his lips over Lee’s, once. Twice. Chakra crackled, electric in the space between them. “Gaara…?” And Lee, the paragon of formality, breathed his name with no honorific, so low Gaara wondered if he’d imagined it on an exhale, and the moment was so intimate it bordered on painful, tipping them both over a precipice across which there would never be any return.

ok so this was one of those bits where i wrote that last line, looked at it, announced out loud, "fuck yeah, i wrote that," then proceeded to treat myself to oreos. i fully stand by this today. sailing stones my first child, i love u dearly and will edit u soon, but this piece won't be touched. i feel like it captures the feeling of the whole fic exactly how i wanted it to.

from We Don't Talk About Fight Club (length warning but it's all short lines)

“So… you did fuck,” Naruto said gleefully. “Who topped?” “Naruto!” Sakura stage-whispered, appalled. “What? I always thought Bushy Brow kinda had like, bottom energy, ya know?” Sai’s face went suddenly curious, and he pulled out a notebook from seemingly nowhere in an action that reminded Kankurō creepily of Lee. He asked, weirdly polite, “Is this ‘bottom energy’ a mutually recognisable feeling between those with a proclivity towards that position? Because Sasuke is always the penetrating partner when you two fuck, Naruto.” Hot damn. The table went eerily silent again. Naruto inhaled his water and came up sputtering. “That… how the fuck do you—no. No. We’re talking about Gaara and Bushy Brow right now! Anyway, Gaara?” “That…” Gaara said sedately, returning to his lunch, his sand silent, all his composure returned, “is not your business.” Kankurō filed away that tidbit of information to snicker at later, returning to focus on his brother. Gaara wasn’t tall enough to bone someone on a kitchen table comfortably, and now that he thought about it, that crater on Lee’s kitchen table looked a lot like a handprint… “Please at least tell me you were responsible and used protection,” Temari asked, one hand rubbing her temple like she was in pain. … Gaara had been walking slow all day, had barely moved in his seat, and he’d definitely winced at least once this morning… The answering silence told everyone far, far too much. …oh man… “Gaara!” Temari scolded. …his little brother… “I mean, does it matter? Sai confirmed they both have dicks, they probably can’t knock each other up,” Naruto said, still laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes now. …Gaara of the Desert… “You can still. Get. Herpes!” Sakura shrieked. …the Kazekage of Sunagakure… Naruto looked at her, skeptical. “If Bushy Brow has herpes, I’ll eat Gaara’s Kage hat. You think he’s actually piped anyone before?” …had let a foreign ninja… Temari choked on her tea. …had let fucking Rock Lee… “Oh my gods, Naruto, I’m making you sit through Sex Ed again, did you learn nothing!?” …green jumpsuit enthusiast Rock Lee… “Hey, at least the lube we gave him for his last birthday would have come in handy!” Naruto chortled, completely ignoring his teammate. …bowlcut Rock Lee… Sakura sighed. “I’m sorry to ask this,” she said to Gaara, “but as a medic… please tell me whatever lubricant you used was sealed in a white tube with a yellow label? If it was, that’s the one we got him , and it wouldn’t be expired, since that was only a few months ago.” …who wore orange fucking legwarmers... Gaara nodded to her. She nodded back, as pink as her hair. …rail him over a kitchen table. That was so fucking funny he was going to shit—

ok so this passage i think is the absolute most Chaotic Stupid piece in the whole megadong anime crackfic extravaganza and that's exactly the energy i wanted to convey. i loved writing from kankuro's pov because i basically use him to write from My POV so it's just dumbass hours all day, plus naruto is just an absolute meme in this fic and i love it. bonus points to me for including 1(one) brooklyn99 reference. i will never be this funny again i wasted all my life savings of comedy on this one fkcmdngnldgjd fic

and finally, from in the space between:

Pressed between their bodies in Gaara’s coat pocket, a pale jade ring, inlaid with a delicate, winding ribbon of Gaara’s chakra-infused sand, burns like a star.

not only does this line out me as have fiance fever because i was thinking about the ring im shopping around for when i wrote it, but also SOMFT, and i think it's the most stunning ending line i've written for it's simplicity, though in context it answers multiple questions and completely changes what the scene means when you read it again. and i will use it to end my really long answers! hope u enjoyed thank u for enabling me xoxo

ask me things, ao3 wrapped style

[faithfromanewperspective]

kristy forbes newsletter 10 jan 24

"For the PDAer, avoidance is a form of inherent wisdom, specific to the person’s current neurobiological state. 

Our threat response; our central nervous system is escalated and activated very easily, and therefore our neurobiological drive will be to allay that process.

The only way to allay that process is to avoid the stimuli creating or contributing to, or leading up to the escalation. 

I don’t always know that I’m actively avoiding something, nor do I *only* ‘avoid’ things because I don’t want to do them. This is a gross oversimplification of PDA.

Many of our children want to be in school. They try. They want to return at times..and yet they cannot. This is not within their conscious control. This is the wisdom of their neurobiology (brain, nervous system, physiology) working together with the information it has.

EG: When a child is at school, there are many environmental sensory assaults on the autistic person’s neurobiology, however there are many more variables that can escalate the nervous system for a PDAer, such as:

An educator who is impatient, presumptuous without curiosity, controlling, operating from behaviourism with no space to understand behaviour varies and means different things

Classmates having a hard time

Having time limits on school work, creating pressure

Anything that creates a power imbalance between the child and their environment

A parent hitting the breaks in a hurry in the car on the way to school

Sensing any dishonesty from others (Mum pretending to be calm when she is not is more triggering than Mum not being calm)

Having to ask permission to use the loo or take a break

Any accommodations being obvious, setting apart the PDAer from the rest of their class

A classmate who has two more Oreo cookies in their lunchbox

There really are so many variables, I could never list them all, and they will be different for each person. 

The human neurobiology is our highest form of wisdom. Our brains and bodies not getting on board with the wishes and wants from other humans does not make it disordered or faulty. 

A PDA child not attending school does not mean they are disordered. It does not mean they are insubordinate. It does not mean they are unwilling. 

It means their behaviour reflects a very innate, and confusing process that often holds them hostage in the quest for keeping them safe (which is processed and understood by human neurobiology as keeping them ALIVE.)

A PDAer’s conscious response (behaviour) is an outcome; an end result of an entire process that is largely internalised. 

The screaming, the harming self and others, the selective mutism, the OCD, the disordered eating, are outcomes of a painful, long term battle nobody else can see or understand. And making it worse is that the child is often punished, held responsible for their behaviour (outcome of incredible stress and lack of control) and treated accordingly, exacerbating the process.

Why? Because when a child is punished for a neurobiology they have no control over, they are punished for who they are. 

Children lack the insight to be able to understand or communicate their internal process, and so they place their trust in adults to help them understand. 

Imagine then, when most adults do not understand the child’s ‘behaviour’ themselves, and punish the child. The ONLY message that is sent, is that the child is bad. 

The child is bad, causes stress and tension in the family home, prevents the family from having a normal life, etc. 

PDA children will often say in despair “Why did you have me? I didn’t ask to be born, this wasn’t my choice!”... and right there are the lines reflective of a complex, deeply embedded drive for autonomy. The distress from a human, born different, and learning within their first years of life that they are unacceptable. That their best trying is not enough. 

Would you want to be here?

Please consider for a moment, being a PDAer. Knowing that from the moment you wake, you face another day of incredible pressure and anxiety that accompanies it. You face another day of not knowing WHY you “can’t do the thing”, not being ABLE to complete what are perceived as basic tasks, feeling the threat response and the body’s inherent protective mechanisms taking over and causing you to feel a dread nobody will believe or understand. 

And, knowing the resulting behaviour has us rejected, abandoned, disapproved of, misunderstood and punished.

How might you behave under such circumstances? Would you, in your precious little brain and body want to continue on? Would you be able to relax enough to sleep, eat, use the toilet?

How should we expect our PDA children to behave under such circumstances?

A PDAer’s threat response is operating perfectly, in response to what they’re exposed to, and in childhood. 

The stress is insurmountable.

To make things worse, showing vulnerability is not safe. It is not safe to show remorse, to apologise (we are often asked to apologise for things we have no control over and actually need support for that no adult has any answers for), to try new things, to not know things, and in extreme situations, to show our mere humanness. This includes eating, showering, moving our bodies. 

Nothing is safe. 

So, we sit in our rooms minding our own business, attempting to keep ourselves safe, adhering to the neurobiological drive. Then the pressure increases..,parents want us to exercise, eat, turn off screens, etc. 

And then..we sleep all day and use screens all night because the neurobiological drive is always, always, always working in the background, doing it’s best work to come up with solutions to keep us safe (alive). 

Everybody comes to the conclusion that we are controlling! 

That WE are controlling!

But we are, in fact, attempting to find some semblance of control inside of a body and brain that won’t allow it, and an environment (people, places and things) that won’t allow it.

When you are starting behind and have NO CONTROL, you are not controlling.

We are attempting to find balance."

-Kristy"

[millylouedward]

The Time Machine by H. G. Wells - Review

 Boy, am I late to the party. I'm sorry guys, really, the bus was late, and then I found this strange device with a clock on it, hopped on, and next thing I knew I was in this grayish space while time flew past me. I finally found the brakes and landed in 2023. Hi, my name is ------, or better yet, just call me the Reader. 

The Reader had been struggling to get through the book. Her eyelids fought hard against her efforts, dropping after every sentence. Her mind wandered to other things, places, people. It wasn't the books fault, not really. The Reader just fucking hated listening to men from the 1890s talk about a bunch of other men and use the word "hitherto" too many times. 

Jokes aside, I gave The Time Machine four stars. That's right. I hardly even read books my men, let alone rate their work highly. I mean somebody has to knock all these white men down a few pegs, right? If it's gonna be anyone, it's gonna be The Reader. But not this time.

There was something so strongly philosophical about The Time Machine and I'm still struggling to fully place it. The more I thought about it, the more everything seemed to boil down to consciousness. I sat here with the book in my hands thinking that human consciousness is the root of all the problems here and in reality. What other species is so eager to escape their reality? None but humans. We are the only creatures so desperate to get away. Even when we're perfectly happy, there is still that quiet push, that desire to just be with our families, doing what we love, eating deliciously, and nothing else. 

In a lot of ways, I found The Time Machine to be rather anti-work, assuming that the only way to experience a utopia is through self-sustainable community. But then, was it really? Because in this book, we're operating under the assumption that the Morlocks are underground performing all the work to keep the Eloi alive. But is that really true? We never actually see any mechanical structures aside from the bronze doors of the Sphynx. Are the Eloi really just cattle to the Morlocks, or do they see themselves as having achieved the ultimate form of peace? Does a cow enjoy its pasture until it is slaughtered?

Like I said, I'm still working out the meaning of this text, if there even is any. Regardless of what it means, it says one thing very clearly. Human consciousness is the problem because it convinces us we must be in constant pursuit of an unachievable peace. 

I mean really. Look at history. There has always been a pain and suffering much greater than the majority of us in this world face. In the US at least, I can order a bulk pack of Oreos to my house from Amazon at 8 AM and have it there by noon. A few hundred years ago, people were toiling soil, fighting weeds and insects and weather patterns just to get a few vegetables. Now, farmers are pumping their foods full of growth hormones and using machines to grow, water, and harvest them in record speeds. 

Perhaps that is what this book is saying. Peace is not achievable without the suffering of someone else. It reminds me of a story I heard as a teenager about a town where every single person could live happy and carefree, but only if they chose one child to take all the pain. The child would be away from sight, in the dark, feeling pain and suffering every day. Loneliness. Bleeding. Hunger. Everything. Is it right to let the child suffer for eternity if it means hundreds of others can live in peace? And who of us in first world countries will be so brave as to look the child in the eye and acknowledge what we do to it to have our happiness? 

A lot to digest from The Time Machine. Overall I really enjoyed it. I actually bought a copy when I was in high school but the opening scene was so confusing to my brain that I never got any farther. And it actually still was hard to set the scene on the first couple pages this time around, which was a big reason for taking off a star on my rating (that and the little bits of racism). 

And here's my Goodreads review:

"If you had a time machine, where would you go? To the end of our galaxy? To a not so distant future where all the problems of the present have been solved? I find that this is the least important question proposed in The Time Machine. Rather, this story asks the reader to dig more deeply. Is consciousness a good thing? 

"I found The Time Machine to be both philosophical and entertaining. At once, I was eager to see how the time traveler will escape the year 802,701 and questioning the way consciousness drives us as individuals. Without it, we might achieve a sense of peace, like cattle in a pasture, the only fear being prey. Yet our having consciousness leads us to believe the constant pursuit of peace is achievable. And who has truly felt that? What human has ever experienced peace and silence like that of the Eloi? 

"I'm gonna be so real, I picked up this book because I realized the shortest book I've read this year was an Ali Hazelwood novella, and frankly I don't want to see her name and cover come up every time I look at my 2023 goodreads summary, so I had to read an even shorter book before the end of this month. However, I really, really enjoyed this story and all of the complex thoughts it stirred in me."

Alright, I'm onto my next books. I'm still trying to get into The Last Olympian so I can finish out the PJO series before the TV show releases, and I'm focusing on Iris Kelly Doesn't Date right now. This was book #51 in my Goodreads reading challenge, so just one more before I finish out the year.

[jade-eclipse-lithium]

Hey, what’re you looking for?

My will to live.

Whoops.

Whoops? Whoops?? This is not a “Whoops” situation. We are far past whoops. Whoops is a distant speck in the rear view mirror. We are solidly in “GOODNESS GRACIOUS” and i expect you to act like it!

You borrowed my braincell.

I rented it!

Don’t play tricks with me. You know how you can be.

It’s at Deez nuts.

Where’s Deez nuts?

IN YO FACE.

You can never take anything seriously can you.

Of all the blasted, suffering, miserable things.

Taking out someone’s comm.

Let me deactivate my own brain for a moment or I’ll kill you.

Let you what-

Don’t question me.

My child gets cranky when they doesn’t get their nap.

Shoot me, you shoot your pal.

They shot you anyway.

What happened to honour among thieves?!

We sold it to the highest bidder.

You blind or short-sighted!? He’s three feet away from you! I’M GONNA HAUNT YOU IF WE BOTH DIE.

That’s not how it- you’re not making any sense!

STFU YOU’RE NOT MAKING SENSE.

Uh oh.

Is that a good uh-oh, or a bad uh-oh?

Is there ever a good uh-oh? Do you even know what’s an uh-oh?

Darkness without light is an abyss.

Light without darkness is blinding.

You cannot have a coin with one side.

They’re saying why Oreo tastes better as a whole instead of just the frosting.

One of my rules, everyone I help have to help everyone else.

Who taught you that?

Someone who helped me.

What did you do?

NOBODY DIED!!!

WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

Don’t make me come up there and be a parent!

FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING!!!

Is it three o’clock already?

It’s not, why do you ask?

I heard your bourbon glass.

Mind your own business!

I have a bad feeling about this...

What do you mean? That little voice in your head tells that you will into trouble?

Yeah kinda.

Wow that does not happen a lot. Do i even know you?

Haha.

How many men do it take to deliver a message.

One.

Kill ‘em!

It’s always about you, isn’t it? No one wants to hear about your latest midlife crisis.

Trying…To tell him…that people can change…

Come now, Prime. Show is always better than tell.

This is so awkward and embarrassing i can’t watch.

This is so awkward and embarrassing i NEED to watch.

[marvelslegacies]

Cass & Noah | Left Brain, Right Brain | Past Paragraph

Jarome had been gone for four days now and surprisingly, the worst that had happened was a broken window (Noah was playing some made-up kind of baseball in the house) and an unsteady mountain of dishes had formulated in the sink. All in all, Cass was proud of the way he’d taken care of the house and had even vacuumed in Jarome’s absence, a chore Jarome and his two housemates usually had to negotiate and grapple over because nobody wanted to do it. And in that freshly vacuumed living room which Cass had just exited, Noah flopped onto the couch and turned on the television, going to Netflix.

“Caaaaaass!” he sing-songed excitedly. Cass rolled his eyes, making a mental note that the younger boy sounded like a hyper-active child.

“Whaaat?” he called back, playing along. He had just opened his novel.

“Come here! Come here! Come here!” The chant came like spitfire. “Come watch this thing with me it’s very important!”

Cass set the book down and rubbed his temples, he consoled himself by muttering, “If he doesn’t get attention now he’ll only get worse.”

Teleporting to the living room, Cass found Noah sitting up right on the sofa (which was a first) and bouncing up and down in his spot, overjoyed. He beat down on cushion next to him as if performing a drum roll, “Sit! Sit! Sit! It’s starting.” Teleporting once more, Cass appeared on the sofa, legs crossed sophisticated and arms draped across the back rest in relaxed indifference.

“Noah, what is this?”

Noah grinned fully, his lips moving quickly as he sang with the music, “He really meant to drop the water bottle. You thought it was an accident…” when the bit ended Noah complied and informed Cass, “It’s Bo Burnham’s new stand up and I want you to watch it at least until this one part.”

Cass sighed and looked around the room as if already bored. “This is the guy that wrote the song about institutionalized religion being a joke?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” Cass shook his head disapprovingly. Even though he had secretly enjoyed the song very much. Cass tried not to show too much amusement in watching the comedy central special… although it didn’t matter because Noah was too engulfed in his own positive emotions to notice whether or not Cass was enjoying himself.

“This is it! This is the song! Ssh!” Cass snapped towards Noah. “I haven’t said a word this whole-" 

"SSHHH!” A jittery finger pressed against the lips of Cass’ half-open mouth, causing Cass to jerk away in shock. He sighed dramatically and turned his silent and undivided attention back to the television.

I am the left brain, I am the left brain I work very hard to my inevitable death brain

“That’s you!” Noah interjected. Cass side-eyed him but said nothing.

I like Oreos and pussy yes! in that order And I cried for at least an hour after watching Toy Story 3

“That’s me!” Noah exclaimed, giddy in an almost scary kind of way. Cass looked at him in amazement, shaking his head with disbelief as Noah lip-synced on point, making ridiculous faces as he did so. Cass wasn’t sure which performance took more preparation and energy, he didn’t know which one deserved his attention more.

Left Brain… Left Brain, I love you! I know.

“That’s us!” Noah shouted, laughing and bouncing up and down.

“Okay, okay. You are way too excited about this.” Cass stated, trying and failing to calm down the atmosphere. “I know!” He continued to bounce. Cass hid a smile and figured he might as well watch until the end. Bo Burnham was one of Noah’s favorite comedians.

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | one

A/N: Here’s the beginning of my new mini-series!  I hope you all enjoy it.  It will definitely be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, so be prepared!  There will be five parts!

SUPPORT MY WRITING HERE: https://ko-fi.com/spine_buster

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

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Brock Boeser felt like he was at some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, with everybody around the circle introducing themselves and their similar predicaments.  The group was in a big meeting room at the local community centre, and when he walked in, he saw a group of dads playing basketball in the gym.  He sort of wanted to join them instead of being here, in this room, with all these people that he didn’t know talking about what they were going to talk about, but he’d done this back in Minnesota, at his mother’s behest with his siblings, and he was going to do it here, too, in Vancouver, to make her happy and ease her mind and to make sure that he was easing his own mind.  

“Um, hello everyone.  My name is Brock Boeser.  I’m from Minnesota, but I’m living in Vancouver.  And um, I’m here with you all because my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.”

“Hello Brock,” everyone smiled at him, and he smiled and nodded back.

“So it was your dad that was diagnosed,” the leader, a kind, older woman named Esther who had greeted him at the door and stuck with him until everybody sat down, egged on a conversation.  He knew she was doing it because he was new; everybody in this room probably already knew each other.  A part of him actually wondered if anybody knew who he was.  “When?”

“Um, he—he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2010,” Brock revealed, stuttering it out.  He knew he’d have to be open at these things – open so people could empathize with him, open so he could empathize with others – but it was still tough for him to do so.  “But he—it’s—it’s not just Parkinson’s.  Two years after he was diagnosed, he was in a car accident and suffered a traumatic brain injury.  In 2017, he was diagnosed with lung cancer.  He beat it but then in June it returned to his liver and chest.  In July, he had a heart attack and his heart stopped beating for 15 minutes.  I was with him and—I—it’s—it’s a lot, as you can imagine,” he tried not to start crying right then and there.  Imagine that – first meeting with a Parkinson’s Society of BC support group and he’d bawl like a baby.

“Goodness me, Brock,” Esther said.  “He has support at home?”

“Um, well, money isn’t an issue now, but when I was growing up my mom worked three jobs to make sure we were all taken care of,” he revealed.  “I’d pitch in too wherever I could, obviously.”

“But it’s been tough for a number of years.”

Brock paused.  It had been tough for a number of years.  It had been really tough for a number of years.  He nodded his head.  “Yes ma’am.  I try to take it day by day.”

Esther nodded as well.  “I don’t know if you pray, Brock, but I know a couple of members around the circle do, and, well – you’ll be kept in all our prayers.”

Brock saw a few people nod their head.  Another older woman, probably his mom’s age, clutching a rosary; a Sikh man dressed in a casual suit; a younger woman, probably in her thirties, with short blonde hair.  He appreciated the sentiment.  He knew that people took prayer very seriously – that people suffering took prayer very seriously.  It was, realistically, one of the kindest things somebody could ever say to you: “I’m praying for you.”  “Thank you very much,” he said, nodding his head once.

***

There was an arrangement of cookies at the end of the meeting.  Even after the 90 minutes of everybody talking about their experiences and emotions, they apparently liked to stick around afterwards as well just to mingle.  It didn’t all have to be doom and gloom, he thought.  It didn’t all have to be about Parkinson’s or about sick people or losing your loved ones all the time.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about the news.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about sports.  The weather.  Anything.  Anything to make a connection with someone beyond something so tragic.  

After stuffing an entire Fudge-O cookie into his mouth, he looked up to see a young woman staring at him, holding her trenchcoat in her arms.  She was smiling to let him know she was friendly.  He was embarrassed because he knew she just saw him stuff an entire Fudge-O into his mouth.  “Hi,” he said, his mouth still full of cookie, the sound of his voice reflecting that fact.

“You’re Brock Boeser, right?” she asked sweetly.  “You play for the Vancouver Canucks?”

“Yeah,” Brock couldn’t help but smile.  He swallowed the rest of the cookie even though he didn’t really finish chewing it.  “That’s me.  Are you a fan?”

“My step-brothers are more so than I am,” she said.  “But I’m a fan of the team, yeah.  I’m Grace Gillespie,” she extended her hand to shake his.  “God, they’re not gonna believe me when I say I met you.  They’re gonna freak.”

Brock couldn’t help but chuckle slightly.  “Do you—I mean, do you want a picture?  I don’t mind at all.  I’ll sign an autograph on a napkin if you want me to.”

“Well…it’s a bit awkward to ask you at a Parkinson’s Society of BC meeting, but we could go to the Starbucks down the street and I could buy you a coffee.”

Brock was slightly taken aback at her forwardness.  He shouldn’t have been.  Girls came up to him all the time.  All the time.  And they were most definitely not shy.  But he wasn’t exactly expecting it to happen here, of all places.  A bar, sure.  Out with Petey or any of the other guys, absolutely.  But not here.  “Yeah…yeah sure,” he stuttered out.

“Then we should go,” Grace smiled.  She turned to look behind her.  Brock saw Esther picking up a few Oreos.  “Thank you for leading another great session, Esther,” Grace said.  

“Oh you are most welcome Miss Gillespie.  How is Hamish these days?  You didn’t speak much today.”

“He’s been doing fine lately.  His caregivers have been working around the clock for him.  They just work wonders, don’t they?”

Esther nodded.  “They are angels on Earth.  Anyways – we’ll catch up next week,” she said, leaning slightly on her leg to look beyond Grace and to Brock.  “I hope to see you here again next week, Brock.”

“Thank you, Esther.  See you next week,” he said, realizing he made the commitment before he could even realize what he was saying.

***

“I take that was your first meeting?” Grace asked as she set down the two lattes on the table against the window where Brock was waiting.  

“Was it really obvious?” Brock asked.

Grace shrugged her shoulders.  She didn’t want to make him feel self-conscious.  “It was the stuttering that gave it away, at least to me.  I know I stuttered a lot the first few times I came to these meetings.  I wasn’t the most comfortable talking about my dad’s condition to a room full of virtual strangers.  But within just a few months I realized the people in that room are the kindest, most empathetic, most amazing people that I’ve ever interacted with.  So I became a lot more open.”

Brock was transfixed by every word that Grace was saying.  “So you’ve been coming here a long time,” he said.

Grace nodded.  “My dad got diagnosed with Parkinson’s when I was fourteen.  I didn’t start coming here until I was about eighteen, though.”

Brock knew he shouldn’t ask.  He knew he shouldn’t.  But his brain had ulterior motives, and his mouth – well, his mouth listened to his brain, because it apparently needed to know.  “Is your—is your dad like my dad?” he asked.  “Does he have, like, other problems complicating things?”

Grace shook her head.  “No,” she said softly.  “But the Parkinson’s is enough for him.  I mean he was diagnosed just short of ten years ago and he’s already on puréed foods.  It’s not—I mean, you know as well as I do that it doesn’t regularly develop that fast.  But that’s…I don’t know how you do it.”

Brock didn’t know either.  Some days he didn’t.  “I just take it day by day,” he said simply, just like he said in the meeting.  “If I think about it too much…that’s when it’s bad.”

“I hear ya,” Grace said, taking a sip of her coffee.  “But let’s…not talk about this for too long.  Do you like Vancouver?  Do you find it nice?”

Brock appreciated the change in topic.  “I love it here,” he nodded his head, smiling.  “The city’s great.  The fans are great.  My teammates – I mean they’re amazing.  What do you do?”

“I’m a dance teacher at Goh Ballet – little kids and teens, mostly.”

He wasn’t expecting that.  She was drop dead gorgeous, sure – Brock wasn’t blind – but he wasn’t expecting to hear she was a dancer.  “Do you, like, dance in the real ballet?”

Grace snorted slightly at his phrasing of ‘real ballet’.  “No.  I pursued it only up until a certain point.  I was good, but uh, I stopped when my dad got diagnosed.”

“Why?  Don’t they always tell people like us to have, like, an outlet or whatever?”

“They do.  But I loved my dad more than I loved dance.  And I would have rather spent the time that I was spending on dance with him instead.”

He understood where she was coming from, and he wasn’t there to judge her.  “And your brothers you mentioned, did they help too?”

“Oh no no no.  Sorry – I should have specified.  I’m an only child.  Like, the only child between my parents.  But they divorced when I was six and when my mom re-married I gained two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo.”

“How was the divorce?” Brock found himself asking.

“You ever see footage of a nuclear bomb exploding?” Grace giggled as she asked the question.  It caused Brock to laugh too even though the analogy she was making was dreadful.  “It was awful.  The type of divorce nobody deserves, you know?  I became a pawn, basically, and my parents would only speak to each other through lawyers.  Even stuff concerning me.  It was bad.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“It was.  But it’s the only life I know,” she said.  “He was lucky my mom ended up marrying another rich guy.  I mean, my mom only marries rich men,” she giggled slightly again.  “That’s how Jasper and Theo became my step-brothers.”

“So your family has money?” Brock clarified.  “What’s it from?  Dad a lawyer or something?”

“Not exactly,” Grace said.  “My dad and his brothers own a private equity firm that started like this,” she pinched her fingers together, “and went like…” she continued, spreading her fingers and moving her hands around her like a bomb explosion.  “Gillespie Brothers Investments.  I’m sure as a Vancouver Canuck you’ve heard of them.  I mean they wanted to buy the Canucks before the Aquilinis.”

Brock hadn’t heard of them, but he now knew he’d have to do some snooping when he got home. “I haven’t heard of them.  But I mean – sounds like they were successful.”

“Three billion dollars is pretty successful to me,” Grace quipped.

“B—Billion,” Brock sputtered out.  “With a B.”

“With a B,” Grace nodded.  Brock had no idea he was sitting across from the daughter of a billionaire.  She didn’t act like a billionaire.  Not like Brock knew what billionaires acted like.  He’d never met one before in his life.  Well, besides Francesco.  “But tell me more about what you like about Vancouver.  What about the nature?  I always kind of fine a good long walk along the Seawall or through Stanley Park really clears my mind from all…this.  What about you?”

Brock smiled.  “I find the white noise of downtown clears my mind.”

***

“You want my number,” Grace said as a statement rather than a question as she and Brock exited the Starbucks.  They were kicked out.  They’d been there for so long that they’d been kicked out because they were closing.  Their coffees had gotten cold.  They hadn’t ordered new ones.  And now they found themselves on the deserted sidewalk, jackets put on hastily, and Grace came up with that.

Brock looked down at her.  They’d been able to look into each other’s soul for the past few hours.  “Of course I want your number,” he said.  There was no reason to hide it.  No reason to deny it.  No reason to have to wait until next week to see her again as they sat around in a circle in a community centre talking about their parents.

He took out his phone.  She gave him her number.  He texted his name to hers so she’d have his.  When that dance was done, she looked up at him.  “I’m really glad I met you tonight,” she said, her voice sincere.

Brock nodded.  “I’m glad I met you too.  I—I really enjoyed this.  And I mean—I needed it.”

Grace smiled, nodding her head.  “I needed it too.”

“D’you—” Brock stopped, trying not to get too far ahead of himself.  “D’you need a ride home?”

“Oh no no, my driver is right there,” she motioned her head towards a black Mercedes waiting by the curb.

Brock hadn’t noticed the car until now.  “Chauffeur?”

“Billionaire dad,” she winked.  Brock understood.  She took a few steps back before smiling one more time.  “Call me,” she said, before flipping her hair over her shoulder and walking towards the Mercedes and getting into the backseat.  Brock watched as it drove off, making a right at the end of the street.

He would definitely be calling.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Stars on your Sleeve (Part 2) [A Jay Halstead Imagine]

A/N: The name of the girl is Y/N (I mostly write my imagines in second person POV...except for the one you guys might see in a few weeks) and cariña is just a nickname/term of endearment in Spanish that means sweetheart. Sorry if anyone got confused about that in part one!

"Dad," you started as you walked into Jay's office after school that day.

It was a Thursday and you had taken the bus from school to the district. It wasn't often that you did this, but you had gotten texts from both your mom and dad telling you that the current case was going to drag on and on tonight, so they wanted you at the district so that you wouldn't be home alone until two or three o'clock in the morning.

"Hi, cariña. How was your day? Learn anything interesting in school?"

"Dad," you groaned. "It's high school, half the stuff they teach me I won't ever use again."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to know about my daughter's day."

"Just can't wait for this week to be over to sleep in."

"You and me both, kid."

"Half the time you work weekends though, Dad," you pointed out.

"Comes with the sergeant title."

"And your sleeping in is like 7:00."

"Point taken. Now, did Mom pack you a few extra snacks or do you need some money for the vending machines?"

"She didn't--"

"Don't even finish that sentence, young lady," Hailey said as she burst into Jay's office. "I packed you a few extra things and you know it. You just want--"

"--Oreos," Jay and Hailey said at the same time.

"Hey, don't blame me! They taste good," you protested. "Anyway, Dad, can I use your laptop to do my homework?"

"Don't you have that school-issued one?"

"That one blocks Netflix."

Jay crossed his arms across his chest. "Homework, huh?"

"I'm just writing a paper. It's not like I'm doing math or reading something."

"What type of paper?" Hailey asked. "Because, I'm pretty sure that if it's a research paper, you need to focus."

"It's a narrative, so I don't need to be constantly focused, Mom."

"Makayla does the same thing," Adam said as he entered the office as well. "Let the kid have the laptop, Jay."

"Thanks, Adam."

"Uh," Jay groaned, "I guess."

"We also have a lead, so you wanna roll out after I give you the info?" Adam asked.

"Yeah. Sorry, Y/N, you need to go into the breakroom now."

"But why can't I stay in here?" you whined. "I want your spinny chair."

"Y/N, this is a case," your mom told you. "You know the rules: no being around the case talk. It's for your own good, we don't want to scar or scare you."

Mom, you know what I've seen, you wanted to tell her, but you knew it would be no use as your parents would never budge on this rule.

"I know, Mom."

Jay pulled his laptop from his desk along with the charger. "Rules?" he probed, holding onto the laptop and charger.

"Dad, I know the rules. Mom, c'mon, tell him."

"It's your dad's laptop, Y/N. I'm not arguing with you or him on this one."

Jay cocked his head to the side. "I'll give you the laptop after you tell me the rules...even though I know you know them."

You sighed. You went through this every time you used his laptop when he was going to be gone. "Only use my account, don't try to login to your account, and do not delete my search history."

"Here you go." He handed you his laptop and charger. "Good luck on your paper. Don't work too hard."

You went into the breakroom and opened the laptop. First, you pulled up Netflix, and then you pulled up your paper. It was your paper for your senior portfolio, which most people were putting off, seeing as you were only a freshman, you didn't need to work on it yet. But, you knew it had to be long, so starting it now would probably be helpful.

The paper was basically a narrative telling a story about each year of school. The stories had to be from two to five pages long, which meant that the paper in its entirety would be between 26 and 65 pages long. But, you didn't mind. It's not like you had to write a boring research paper. You also had to write about your career goals and one wish for your future as well, which would make the paper even longer still.

Seeing as your schooling didn't exactly match up with the American school system until you were around nine and in third grade, you had gotten permission from your teacher to just write about the sections of kindergarten, first, and second grade, as just memories from when you were six, seven, and eight years old.

You'd save the memories of six and seven for later, since you'd have to dig into the part of your brain where you were in the orphanage with your older sister, Illiana.

For now, you just scribbled down a few lines for ideas of when you were eight years old...which was pretty simple since a lot happened in your life that year.

***

"Y/N, we brought you some food if you--"

"Shut up!" Mouse hissed as the rest of the unit clambered up the stairs and into the bullpen. "She's sleeping."

Yes, when Mouse came home he returned to his job as the tech analyst of the Intelligence Unit. And, when Jay became sergeant, he pulled a few strings and got him a huge salary increase.

"I'll pull the car around front," Hailey offered.

"No," Jay whined. "That means I gotta be the bad guy and wake her up."

"Sorry, babe. I call dibs."

"Ew, guys, please keep the lovey-dovey nicknames to home. I don't need to see that," Adam joked.

"Shut up, Ruz."

Hailey swiped the keys from Jay's office and Jay went to wake you up. But, before he did, he saw the laptop, still open to both Netflix and your paper.

There wasn't much in the paper yet, as Jay had expected, only a few bullet points. His name caught his eye below the age 8 section...whatever that meant. He didn't mean to pry (well, really he did), but he closed the laptop without logging you out so that he and Hailey could take a look at it later.

"Y/N, Y/N, wake up."

You were woken up by someone gently shaking your shoulder.

"Quiero dormir, vaya," you whined. That was one thing you always did: reverted back to Spanish when you were tired. At least both Jay and Hailey understood it now because they had learned Spanish...which helped them with parenting because when they were mad at you, they'd talk in Spanish and that's how you know you were in deep shit.

"I know you want to sleep, and I'm not leaving," Jay answered. "But, we're going home so you can sleep in your bed instead of here."

"Mmmm, okay," you mumbled. You rubbed your eyes, but then decided it was too much work to get up, so you just sat up and closed your eyes once again.

"C'mon, cariña. Mom's got the car out front and then all you gotta do is stay awake until we get home, okay?"

"Mmmm," you mumbled and then stood up. He already had your backpack slung over his shoulder and was holding his laptop in the other hand. "Can I skip school tomorrow? I'm tired."

"Not a chance," Jay chuckled. "But, I can drive you to school and we can get you a frappucino on the way there."

"Mom won't be mad?"

"We don't have to tell Mom everything now do we?"

"No, we don't."

***

"What are you doing?" Hailey asked Jay as she slid into bed next to him that night. "Are you seriously checking our daughter's search history this late at night? C'mon Jay, she's a good kid. You won't find anything."

"That's not what I'm looking at. But, now that you mention it, I should probably check that, too."

"Then, what are you reading? Because I know for a fact that your case notes are definitely not as organized as that."

"Wow, Hails, you're so sweet," Jay said sarcastically. "It's Y/N's paper. The rubric was pasted at the top and it looks like she has to write about a memory from each year of her life and her career goals and a wish for the future."

"And you were snooping because...?"

"Because I saw my name. I wanna see what she says about us, Hailey."

"Jay, she loves us, baby. We're her parents. We both know that. You don't need to read her schoolwork to know that."

"Either way, I'm still reading it. Join me if you want, or go to sleep."

"Uh, fine. But if she asks, this was your idea and I will not hesitate to throw you under the bus."

Age 8, they both read to themselves, leaving/running away from orphanage

"God, no matter how many years it's been since she told us what happened, it never fails to break my heart," Hailey said.

Jay wrapped one arm around his wife. "I know, babe. I feel the exact same way."

"Hey, Y/N," the therapist started and you looked up at her. "Do you want to in that room over there and watch some tv while I talk to jay and Hailey? I can even turn on the Spanish movies for you."

"Okay!"

After getting you all set up, she left you in the room with a Spanish children's movie playing while she went to get Jay and Hailey.

"Jay and Hailey?" she asked as she entered the waiting room.

"Dr. Smith," Jay greeted.

"I have something to tell both of you, and Y/N told me it was okay that I tell you. When I asked if she wanted to be the one to tell you this, she said no because she didn't want to make you sad."

They entered the room where you had previously been and Dr. Smith sat in a chair and Jay and Hailey sat on the couch.

"What's this about?" Hailey asked.

"Well, she told me why she ran away from the orphanage."

Jay and Hailey were shocked. You'd been with them for three months and hadn't once mentioned why you ran away and what happened before Jay found you. It wasn't for lack of trying on Hailey and Jay's part, though. They tried. After all, they knew how to talk to child victims. But, they didn't want to push you too hard, and eventually, they just dropped the topic all together because they knew you'd talk about it when you were ready. Apparently, today was the day that you were ready to tell that story.

"And?" Jay pushed. "Why'd she run away?"

"She said that they came for her, the people who you were fighting," Dr. Smith said.

"Los Rebeldes," Jay said, more to Hailey than to anyone else.

"They came for her specifically?" Hailey asked.

"No, they just came to the orphanage. She said that she heard voices--male voices--telling them to get down on the ground and then some shots rang out. Her sister, Illiana, told her to hide and slipped the necklace around her neck. So, she did. She said she closed her eyes really tight and she just laid there, hiding and barely breathing. She said she heard a gunshot and then she heard Illiana scream and she heard squishing noises."

"Oh my God," Hailey gasped.

"You're saying they shot and killed her?" Jay asked, his voice cracking.

"That's what it sounded like, yes."

"How did she get out?"

"She said that she snuck out through a small door in the back of the room. She said it wasn't a real door, but it was a small door that led to the outside, by her description, it sounded about three feet tall and two feet wide."

"The waste doors," Jay muttered.

"The what?" Hailey asked.

"The waste doors...well, that's what we called them on Base anyway. They were these little doors where you could place stuff outside. Sometimes we'd put the packaging of our MRE's there or other crap we didn't need anymore. Not good for the planet, but yeah, that's what we did."

"So, Jay, you're telling me that Y/N essentially snuck out of the orphanage through a trash chute?"

"Well, we used them for waste, which is why we called them waste doors. But, I heard rumors of them being used at orphanages for parents to put their baby in a crib. They'd just open the door and place the baby in the little crib on the other side of the door."

"She moved the crib and snuck out through there?"

"If there was a crib, then she moved it and got out. If not, she just crawled out through there."

"Did she tell you anything about when she left?" Hailey asked Dr. Smith.

"She said that she didn't have much with her, just her teddy bear and that locket. But, she said that she walked for the rest of the day. And, according to her timeline, the soldiers came right after breakfast. She said she was really scared that they were going to find her and so she just kept walking. But then, she found a bit of a forest it sounded like and since it was starting to get dark and cold, she laid down."

"I found her in the middle of the night and she must've been there since sunset. No wonder she was hypothermic."

"We got her her first banana split after that therapy session," Hailey said. "I honestly don't know whether the food was to get her to try something new or to comfort us."

"Yeah, that was a rough night. I didn't even want her to leave my arms," Jay said. "Jay found me and I went home to Chicago," he read aloud. "Man, that night was rough, too. Probably worse than the night where we found out why she left."

"Now, it's crowded here, cariña so stay cerca to us or go mano a mano with me or Hailey, okay?" Jay asked you as the three of you found a parking spot at Navy Pier.

Adam, Kim, Kevin, and Will were all there as well. They had planned to go out and party and go to a bar when Jay returned home, but that changed now that he and Hailey had a kid to take care of, so they had decided to take a trip to Navy Pier.

In the airport, Jay had gotten a huge coffee from Starbucks, seeing as he had barely slept on the way home. Before coming to Navy Pier, you had gone to a place called iHOP where you had gotten some really yummy pancakes, and Adam, Kevin, and Will had made you laugh a lot and Kim spoke Spanish with you.

"What does that word mean?" you asked.

"What word?" Jay asked, looking down at you as he took your hand.

"Cr-crowded," you sounded out slowly.

"Uh, it means there's lots and lots of people."

"Oh, okay. I stay by you."

"So Y/N, what do you like to do?" Will asked you.

"I like reading and play fútbol," you told him.

"Really? Jay loves playing soccer!"

"We played back at the big house in España," you told Will excitedly. "We won and I got lots and lots of goals."

"Looks like you have a pro soccer player on your hands, little brother," Will said to Jay.

"Don't I know it."

"We go on the big thingy you showed me in the little book in the plane?" you asked Jay.

"The Ferris wheel?" You nodded excitedly. "We can do that, but let's walk around first. We might be able to play some games and win you a friend for Osito."

"Really? Osito have a friend?"

"Really," Jay promised.

As you walked down Navy Pier, you were excitedly pointing out every little thing you saw from the ducks and the seagulls to the big yachts floating down the Chicago River.

"Let's go into Garrett's, babe," Hailey suggested when they were inside the big atrium. "Give her a taste of Chicago's world-famous popcorn."

"I think that's a great idea," Jay agreed. "What do you think, cariña? Want to try some popcorn and then we'll get your favorite?"

You tilted your head to the side. "Popcorn? What is that?"

"Palomitas," Kim clarified for you in Spanish. "Hay muchos tipos diferentes de palomitas allí para probar y comprar."

"Oh, okay. Yes, please."

"What did you say to her?" Hailey whispered to Kim.

"Just gave her the Spanish translation of popcorn and then told her that there's a bunch of different types of popcorn that she can try and buy in there. But, you and Jay most definitely have your work cut out for you when it comes to learning Spanish. You're lucky that she's pretty good with English already and that I'm here to help you learn Spanish."

***

"Sleepy, cariña?" Jay asked as he heard you yawn from the backseat.

Hailey was driving and he was holding a big bag of caramel and cheddar popcorn...which Hailey was telling him not to eat all of it because she knew he would. You were in the backseat with your big stuffed bear, whom you had named Osita since she was a girl bear because she had really soft white fur and a pink ribbon tied around her. Jay had won that for you when he played a shooting game. You also had a stuffed duck that Will had won for you when he played a guess the weight game. You named him Pato...which meant duck in Spanish. You had gone on the Ferris wheel and had pointed out all the pretty things in the sky when you were up there. Hailey had never seen Jay so happy as when he was smiling wide at every little thing you pointed out and he tried to explain to you what they were.

"No," you answered as you laid your head against Osita. It was currently 3 pm Chicago time, which made it about 9 pm Spain time.

"Tell you what," Hailey started, "When we get home, we can show you your room, and then we can watch a movie and eat this popcorn. Because, if we don't start eating it soon, Jay will eat it all."

"Jay eat it all if we no eat it too?"

"Jay eats a lot," Hailey joked.

You reached your hand in front of you and towards Jay. "Palomitas please." Jay chuckled and Hailey smiled as he put some popcorn into your little outstretched hand. "Gracias."

"De nada," Jay told you.

"When we watch movie, how I get it?" you asked.

"We get it on the tv," Jay told you.

"No, how I know what they saying?"

Hailey hadn't thought that far ahead when she had suggested watching a movie. "Um," Hailey faltered. "We can make it so it's in Spanish."

"But then you no know what they say," you pointed out.

"We can put words on the bottom of the screen in English for us," Jay suggested. "Then all three of us will know what they're saying. Is that okay?"

"Okay!"

"Hailey," Jay whispered. "What are we gonna watch?"

"She's too old for princesses probably and way too young for action movies...how about Disney Channel movies? We could try High School Musical? That one's pretty good."

"You're kidding Hails. You watched that? Didn't it come out when we were like 20 or 25?"

Hailey held back a laugh. "Yes, it did. But, I babysat a lot of kids in my neighborhood who were around Y/N's age, and we'd always end up watching those Disney Channel originals."

"Okay, whatever you say, babe."

***

"I think I'm gonna bring her to bed," Jay said.

You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie. Before starting it, you had seen your room. It was purple! And, in black letters behind your bed, it said Salon de Y/N, which meant Y/N's room. Jay assumed that Kim had helped Hailey with the spelling and the boys had helped move the furniture into your room. There was also a little basket with a few things they thought you would like, such as a few different colored soccer balls and a bookshelf.

On the bookshelf, Hailey had picked out some books in Spanish that she had found at Barnes and Noble and some short chapter books in English that she used to read as a kid, such as the Nancy Drew series and Little House on the Prairie. She knew that you might need help reading them and might not be able to completely understand them all by yourself yet, but she knew that she and Jay would be there to help you.

"It's 6:00," Hailey protested. "Shouldn't we wake her up and have her stay awake for a few more hours so that her body can adjust?"

"If you're asking an adult like me that, yes, I'd stay awake. But, she's a kid. She needs her sleep. And, I'll probably be up before you anyway, so I can deal with her if she wakes us up at five in the morning."

"Okay super dad," Hailey joked. "Bring her to bed. I'll make us a quick dinner and cover this popcorn so it doesn't get stale. Can't wait for us to go to bed tonight." She winked.

"Hails, as much as I would love to take you up on that, I don't think it's a good idea when it's Y/N's first night. But, I will give you all the cuddles in the world tonight, don't you worry about that."

"As long as you didn't pick up the habit of snoring overseas then I'm all for that, babe."

***

Jay woke up to the sound of soft whimpering. It sounded like it was coming from the hallway but he couldn't be sure. He reached over Hailey and was about to grab her gun from her drawer where he knew that she kept it, but stopped when he remembered that it was probably just you. It wasn't just Jay and Hailey in the house anymore; you were there as well and that's probably where the noise was coming from. And, he didn't want to scare you by holding a gun.

He glanced over at the clock. 3 am. Yeah, sounds about right that you'd be waking up right about now since you'd slept for about nine hours and it was 9 am in Spain right now.

Jay slowly tiptoed out into the hallway, cursing himself that he hadn't left a light on or kept his and Hailey's bedroom door open so you could find them easily.

Jay reached out for the hall light switch and flicked on the lights, causing you to jump. "Hey, hey, it's just me. It's just Jay," he said calmly once he laid eyes on you. You were holding Osito and there were fresh tears running down your cheeks.

Jay never knew the force of an eight-year-old running into him could be so strong as to almost knock him over. You dropped Osito and wrapped your arms around him as if your life depended on it.

"It's okay, it's okay," Jay soothed. "What's wrong, cariña? Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I-I no know where I was," you mumbled into his shirt. "Was dark. Think you and Hailey left, so I came to find you."

"Oh, sweetie," Jay started. "I'm sorry. I forgot to turn the light on for you in your room so that you'd know where you are. And, me and Hailey would never leave you."

"You promise?"

"I promise." Your stomach grumbled. "Hungry?" you nodded. "Alright, let's get you a sandwich and then get you back to bed."

"You eat too?" you asked.

"You know, I could go for a sandwich."

***

The next morning, Hailey rolled over to see that Jay wasn't in bed next to her and his side of the bed was cold. Then, she remembered you and walked over to your room and slowly opened the door. You looked up from the Spanish book you were reading and put a finger to your lips.

"Jay sleeping," you told Hailey.

Jay was sitting upright in your bed against the headboard, his thumb holding a place in what looked to be a Nancy Drew book.

"Did Jay read to you last night, huh?" Hailey asked as she walked closer to you and Jay.

"Yeah, he told me that Nancy does what you and Jay do with policia. Then, I sleep again and then I wake up and he sleep again, so I started reading in Spanish."

"I think we should let him sleep a little more while we go finish High School Musical and eat palomitas before Jay eats it all. Does that sound good?"

You nodded eagerly and closed your book. Then, you got out of bed and followed Hailey out of your room. And, after hearing that Jay had read to you and seeing him sleeping upright in your bed so that you'd be able to sleep, she had one more reason why she was truly head over heels for the man she married and got to call her husband.

"Look, Jay. She wrote her birthday in here for age 9," Hailey said as she pointed to the laptop screen.

"God, I don't think I'll forget that day for the rest of my life. It was such a good day."

"You are such a sap when it comes to Y/N."

"Hey! let me be sappy about our daughter, Hailey Anne. She's in high school now, high school. That means she'll be going off to college soon."

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself, sergeant," she joked. "Just keep reading this. It was your idea to snoop through her stuff after all."

"Jay, you got the stuff?" Hailey asked as she was sitting cross-legged on their bedroom floor with wrapping paper, tape, and scissors in front of her.

"Jesus, Hails," Jay laughed, "You make it sound like we're doing a drug deal."

"Well sorry if I want her birthday to go really well. Now, did you get them or not?"

"They're in here." He set a plastic bag down on the bed. He took out three framed pictures and laid them out on the bed. Of course, he made sure that the frames were different shades of purple. "Good?"

Hailey stood up and looked at the pictures. "I never know the CPD's sketch software could work miracles like this, so yeah, I'd say we did good."

Over the past month, everyone in Intelligence had told you that they were testing out a new sketch software to use to try to track down criminals. They let you play with it because they said they wanted to see what it would do...even though they knew what it did, how good it was, and it wasn't new. It was just a ploy to make sure they got your birthday gift right. They had told you to try and input someone's face from memory, someone like your older sister, Illiana.

So, when you had to go to the district for the day with Jay and Hailey, you'd ask to play with that software to work on your sketch. Little did you know, they were printing it out on fancy photo paper and putting it in a frame for your birthday. Jay had also swiped your necklace one day when you had taken it off to go swimming and had taken pictures of what your mom and dad looked like. Then, he and Hailey each took one parent and worked on making their faces through the CPD's sketch software.

"Now what the hell is this?" Jay asked as he held up a big board that Hailey had laying out in front of her as well.

"That, Jay, is so we can stick the back of the frames to it so that we don't have to give the three of them to her separately. Then, she can just take them off from it and place them wherever she wants in her room."

"You're smart. Maybe you should've gone to law school."

"Haha, very funny, Halstead. But then I wouldn't have met you."

"Eh, I beg to differ. You'd probably end up being some prosecution or defense attorney and then I'd have to testify, and after getting yelled at by you on the stand, I'd end up making an ass of myself and ask you out for a drink."

"Is that so?"

"That is very much so."

He walked up to her and grabbed her by the waist and she gave him a peck on the lips. "Hails," Jay whined. "Why'd you phone it in?"

"Because we have presents to wrap. Now, sit your ass down on the carpet and help me."

"Yes ma'am. But, damn, you're really going to be the death of me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

***

"Before we do cake everyone, me and Hailey have one more gift for Y/N," Jay announced by tapping a fork gently against his champagne glass. Yes, the adults were drinking champagne because they were celebrating your first birthday with them as their kid. No, they wouldn't even give you one sip...but you didn't care and you didn't ask.

You had gotten spoiled all day. Will had taken you out for breakfast where you had gotten chocolate chip pancakes with all the toppings. Then, he took you to the sporting goods store where you bought an FC Madrid jersey and to Barnes Noble where you bought a few new books.

Then, when you got home, you were surprised to find everyone from Intelligence there along with some people from Med, and firehouse 51. Emilia, Mouse, and Makayla were there, and your friend, Rosa, whom Emilia had introduced you to earlier in the year at her welcome home party since Rosa was one of Emilia's little cousins.

You had gone outside and played a huge soccer game. And, when you got sick of playing soccer, Emilia busted out a makeup kit she had bought for you. And you, Makayla, Emilia, and Rosa did each other's makeup. While the four of you were doing makeup, a soccer tournament had broken out where Intelligence played Med, and then the winner of that game played Firehouse 51. Intelligence won against Med...mostly due to Jay. But, then they played 51 and they got creamed.

"Here you go, nena," Hailey said as she passed you the gift. Hailey had started calling you nena since Jay had a nickname for you, cariña, which you learned now meant sweetheart in English. So, she decided to call you nena, which meant honey. And, you and Hailey had thought it only fair if you came up with a nickname for Jay. So, the one you decided on was quite fitting in your mind: pecas...which translated to freckles. And, Will, well Will calls you Osa because your favorite animal is a bear. It's probably one of only three words he knows in Spanish next to hola and adios.

The gift was long and hard...like a piece of wood. You slowly opened the gift, wondering what else you could have possibly gotten.

You bit your lip as you finished tearing the paper off and flipped it over. "Mamí, Papí, Illiana," you whispered as you held back tears. "¿Cómo lo hicisteis?" you asked. Seeing as Jay and Hailey had been working very hard on their Spanish for the past nine months, they could understand you and could sometimes explain an English word to you in Spanish if needed.

"We didn't really need to test out the drawing thing," Jay answered. "We just needed a picture of Illiana. And, I got the pictures of your parents from the locket."

At this, you started to cry harder, remembering that day when Jay had to cut your necklace off of you in the back of the Med truck in Spain.

You stood up and hugged both Jay and Hailey at the same time. Now, you had both of your families watching over you: your biological family from in heaven and your parents in the here and now. And, your biological family now had no doubt in their mind up there that you would never, ever forget them.

"You remember what she called us that night?" Hailey asked.

"How could I forget? It was the first night she called us mom and dad. I still remember her exact words when I told her we weren't trying to replace her biological family: Son mi familia en el cielo y en mi corazon, pero vosotros sois mi familia aquí."

"They're my family in heaven and in my heart, but you are my family here."

"Exactly."

"Oh my God!" Hailey laughed. "She wrote sixth-grade: I cheated on a literature test and Mom had to come to pick me up and I got in trouble. And then, Dad went full-on dad-mode."

"No fucking way," Jay laughed as he brought the laptop closer to him and looked for the sixth-grade section. "I can't believe this is what she's going to write about!"

"Well, in her defense, it was the first time we had to ground her and the first time you went full-on, overprotective, my daughter can do no wrong dad-mode."

"Pretty sure the next time I'll do that is when she gets asked to the homecoming dance later this year."

"Jay! You will not! You will not scare the boys away from our daughter!"

"Well, they should be scared!" Jay argued. "We're both cops, babe. We can make their death look like an accident."

"Jay, what you're talking about is murder and I shouldn't have to remind you that that is illegal. If so, I am going to the Ivory Tower tomorrow to get you stripped of your sergeant title."

"Fine, fine. The next time I'll do that is when she gets her driver's license."

"Hey, on the bright side, we wouldn't have to pick her up from the principal's office then," Hailey pointed out. "She could just drive herself home."

"We wouldn't have to figure out which of us should go pick her up like last time?"

"Exactly. And I'm pretty sure she was thankful that it was you and not me who picked her up in sixth grade."

"Miss Halstead," your literature teacher said as she stalked over to you from the other side of the classroom. "Care to tell me what you have under your sleeve?"

"My arm?"

"I don't like being disrespected in my classroom. We both know you have your phone in there. And, lying to me will just make this worse."

"I-I needed it," you stammered, not wanting to have the whole class hear how stupid you were.

"For a test? You know the rules: no cheating. Principal's office, now. Grab your stuff. And, I'll be calling your parents as you walk down there."

You grabbed your backpack and started your walk to the principal's office. It's not like you had a choice...well, you did have a choice. You could've just not used your phone on the test. But, after that last grade you got on that essay and how weirdly worded the questions were, you basically had no choice but to use your phone. It's not like you were using it to look up the answers per se, but you were using it to try and understand the questions because there was no way you were going to ask that teacher.

"Mrs. Halstead, right this way," you heard the office secretary say as they led Hailey to the principal's office. Your phone was sitting on the principal's desk, the tab you had been using to cheat open and you were fiddling with the strings of your hoodie. You had thought about deleting your search history, but knew it wouldn't be of any use because Jay and Hailey would just be able to look it up with whatever police software crap that Intelligence had access to. You knew you'd be in more trouble if you deleted it and they found out that you were lying, so you decided you wouldn't delete it...even though you were regretting that decision as your phone screen stared back at you.

"May I ask why my daughter is in the principal's office when I thought she should be taking a test?" Jay and Hailey knew all about your literature test that day as you had read the book twice to be ready for it.

"That's exactly why she's in here, Mrs. Halstead," the principal told Hailey. "She was trying to cheat on her literature test."

"She wouldn't do that!" Hailey defended you. "She studied so hard!" She looked between both you and the principal, but your gaze stayed trained on the floor.

"Just take a look."

He passed Hailey your phone and she looked at the search history and the timestamps of said history. "Y/N, is this true?"

You nodded. Hailey sighed. "I'm assuming she's suspended?"

"Since this is her first academic infraction, I'm not going to suspend her. She does need to go home for the rest of the school day, though."

"Thank you. C'mon Y/N, let's go."

You hung your head as you left the middle school, Hailey holding your phone and still trying to figure out why you did this. But she knew that one thing was for sure: the minute Jay got home, he would not be happy.

***

"You're kidding me, right?" you heard Jay ask Hailey in the kitchen.

You were currently in your room, but the kitchen was right down the hall, so if you were quiet and focused enough, you could hear their conversation.

"I wish I was, Jay," Hailey said. "Just...here, take a look."

You assumed that Hailey was handing Jay the phone and he was looking at your search history.

Jay took a deep breath and restrained himself from shoving the chair into the kitchen table.

You heard his heavy footsteps coming down the hall and quickly locked your door and then sat back down on your bed.

You heard the doorknob jiggle as Jay tried to open your door.

"Y/N! ¡Abras la puerta inmediatamente!" (Open the door immediately!)

You were in deep shit if he was yelling at you in Spanish.

You didn't move from your bed.

"¡Ábrelo ahora!" (Open it now!)

"¡Estoy viniendo! ¡Calmáse!" (I'm coming! Calm yourself!) You got up from the bed and opened the door.

"Do not ever, ever tell me to calm down ever again! Do you understand me?" Jay asked angrily as he flung open your door after he had unlocked it. You nodded. "Now, I understand that you were caught cheating on a test. Care to explain that to me?"

"Not really," you sighed as you sat on your bed.

"I'm giving you one more chance to explain to me why you chose to cheat. And I suggest you tell me the truth, kid."

You looked up to be met with Hailey standing in the doorway. She nodded to you as if to say you better listen to your dad.

"Well?" he asked as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"I needed to cheat!"

"Nobody needs to cheat!"

"Well, I did!" You dug through your backpack and found the paper you had to write for the class that your teacher failed you on. "Because of this!" You threw the paper on your bed. "And because my teacher is a puta!"

"You do not call your teacher a bitch, young lady!" Jay yelled.

"Jay!" Hailey yelled. "Take the paper, go to our room and read it and calm down!"

"So Mom can tell you to calm down but I can't?"

Jay turned back to you, but Hailey grabbed his arm. "Bedroom Jay. Now." He left the room and Hailey turned to you. "As for you. You're grounded from your phone for the foreseeable future. Sorry, nena. Now, we'll be back to talk to you after we've read whatever it is you threw on your bed."

***

"We read the paper," Jay said as he and Hailey entered your room again fifteen minutes later. "And, I'm sorry for yelling. I know me and your mom are both detectives, but it'd look better if you told us why you cheated instead of leaving us to put the pieces together."

"I'm sorry, I really am. It's just, I failed that paper. And, I worked really hard on it. And, she said it wasn't a real tradition."

The paper topic was to write about a family tradition and you wrote about the Spanish tradition of eating grapes on New Year's Eve. With twelve seconds left of the year, you'd put a grape in your mouth for every second that passed. You'd try to get all twelve grapes in your mouth, but that was really hard. You wrote about the last time you did it with your family and your papí almost got all of them in your mouth while you only got three in your mouth since you were only three years old at the time.

One of the grading criteria for the paper was that it had to be a real tradition.

"She said that it wasn't a real tradition, Dad. She said that because she had never heard of it and that it sounded weird to her, that it wasn't real. So, she failed me. I also put some Spanish words in there, but I put the translations next to it. I thought it would make it more...what's the word? It's kind of like real? Like it'd make it more real to read? You know that word for it?"

"Authentic?" Hailey asked.

"Yeah, that. I thought it'd make it more authentic to read. And, I knew the material of the book. But, the questions were so confusing and I didn't want to ask her to clarify because she's mean."

"So you googled the questions to try to figure out what they were asking?" Hailey asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I really am. I just didn't want you to be disappointed in me and think that I've been here for four years and not know English."

"Oh, cariña." Jay crouched in front of you. "We'd never think that. I promise. And I know Mom would never think that either, right?"

"That's right," Hailey agreed.

"Now, I have to go make a phone call."

"You went off on that teacher, Jay! I don't think I've ever heard you that angry when you weren't in interrogation!" Hailey laughed.

"Well yeah! That teacher's logic and grading criteria were seriously flawed. And, you read that paper. It was really good. As Y/N put it that day, she really was a puta."

Hailey rolled her eyes.

"Wish for the future," Jay read aloud. "I wish that I could figure out why Los Rebeldes came to the orphanage and killed Illiana."

"I think that's enough snooping through her stuff for the day, babe," Hailey said, beginning to feel uncomfortable reading this. "Let's just go to bed."

"Yeah, I'm just gonna take a quick shower and I'll be back, okay? I love you." He gave Hailey a quick peck on the lips and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower.

"I love you, too."

But, Jay barely heard her. He was so lost in thought about how to get answers for you, for his daughter. Hell, he wanted those answers just as bad as you. What kind of sick bastard would come into an orphanage heavily armed and just kill innocent civilians and innocent children?

***

"Mouse," Jay said as he entered the bullpen the next morning, "I need your help with something."

"Jeez, Jay, you're late," Ruzek commented. "Where's Hailey?"

"It's her RDO. And, I promised Y/N a frappuccino because she had to wake up early for school and had to go to bed late last night because we were working a case."

"Does Hailey--"

"No, Adam. Hailey does not know that I gave our fourteen-year-old daughter sugar-laced coffee this morning. And, if you so much as say the words frappuccino, Jay, and Y/N in the same sentence, I will bump you back down to patrol so fast you won't know what hit you."

Jay started to walk towards the tech area where he assumed Mouse would be. His voice carried, so he hoped he'd heard him when he'd said he needed his help.

"Whose idea was it to give Jay all this power?" Adam asked rhetorically. "I think it's going to his head."

"I heard that Ruz!"

"You needed something, Jay?" Mouse asked as he turned around from his laptop and took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, can you do something off the books for me?"

"You don't even have to ask anymore, man."

"Just need to make sure you don't assign a case number to it."

"I can do that. Now, what do you need?"

Jay pulled out his phone and pulled up a Spanish newspaper article from two weeks ago. He laid the phone in front of Mouse. "This. This is why I need you."

Mouse looked at the phone and back up at Jay with raised eyebrows. "I'm gonna need you to translate that. I don't speak Spanish."

"Says that the guy who killed everyone in the orphanage that Y/N was in is meeting with his lawyer about an appeal. That son of a bitch. And, it's happening on Monday."

"He's meeting with his lawyer on Monday or you'll know if he won the appeal or not on Monday?" Mouse asked.

"He's meeting with his lawyer on Monday."

"And you need me because...?"

"Think you can hack into Spain's maximum-security federal prison system?"

"You cannot be serious."

"I am dead serious, Mouse."

"Why don't you just wait to hear the news?"

Jay sighed and took a seat next to Mouse. "Y/N has to write a paper and was using my laptop. It was this narrative thing for her senior project, so it's due in a few years. But, I'll spare you the details. Y/N had to write what one of her wishes for the future was and she wrote that she wants to know why the guy killed everyone in the orphanage. Not who, because we already know that it was Raúl Rodríguez. She wants to know why."

"That guy's the one who told them to attack the orphanage? The one that killed her sister, right?"

"That's the prick."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. I'd know that if it was my sister or my kid that I'd want to know."

"Thanks, man."

"Video and audio?"

"Yeah. I'm probably gonna get Emilia in on this too to translate."

"Why? Don't you and Hailey speak Spanish?"

"We do, but they're gonna talk really fast and I probably don't know law lingo except for the word lawyer."

"Fair enough. I'll get to work."

***

"Hails, Hails," Jay shook Hailey awake.

"Jay? Why are you home so late?" she asked as she rolled over and opened her eyes. It was almost 11:30 and she had gone to bed half an hour ago...she thought Jay would've been home by 11:00.

"Paperwork," Jay answered honestly. He instantly regretted his decision of waking Hailey up knowing her history of insomnia. "But, I shouldn't have woke you up. I'm sorry, babe."

"No, I'm awake now. What's up?" She sat up in bed and turned on the lamp to see Jay changing out of his clothes and into his pajama pants and an old t-shirt. "You don't have to sleep with a shirt on you know."

Jay smirked. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? But, don't want our daughter to walk in on me shirtless."

"She's spending the night at Rosa's," Hailey informed him.

"In that case..." Jay trailed off and took off his t-shirt along with his pajama pants so that he was just in his boxers. "Better?"

"Much better."

Jay pulled back the covers on his side of the bed and slid in next to his wife. She cuddled into his side and he wrapped an arm around her.

"What'd you want to tell me?" she asked.

"How do you know I wanted to tell you something?"

"You had that look in your eye, Jay Halstead. Now, tell me."

"So persuasive." He rolled his eyes playfully.

"Shut up."

"You love it, though." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "You know how Y/N's biggest wish was to know why Raúl Rodríguez attacked the orphanage?"

"Mhmm," she mumbled.

"Well, I'm gonna find out why."

She pulled away from him. "What? How? You're going to Spain? To interrogate him? You know the CPD doesn't have jurisdiction there even though you were a ranger there, right?"

"Hails, I'm not going overseas to find him. I promise you that."

"Okay." She settled back into his embrace. "Then what are you doing?"

"Having Mouse see if he can hack into the prison system so that I can watch the lawyer talk to him."

"And you're going to be able to understand everything they're saying?"

"No, but Emilia will."

"You called her and told her your plan before you told me?"

"No! The only person who knows is Mouse. I figured I'd call Emilia tomorrow. Like I said, I was just at the district late doing paperwork."

"Okay, I believe you. And, we're not going to have her in the room with us, Y/N that is? We're going to tell her why he did this so she doesn't have to hear it from him?"

"Precisely. Now, am I right in assuming that since Y/N's gone for the night that we can be as loud as we want?"

"You are very much correct in that." Then, he gave her a kiss...and this time, he didn't phone it in at a peck.

***

You were sitting in the breakroom Monday afternoon trying to do some American history homework. There was so much reading involved, but it was okay because you liked history. And, there were pictures in the textbook...it wasn't like you were reading Romeo and Juliet like you had to do in English class.

You knew Emilia was here because she had brought you some fries, much to your mom and dad's dismay since your mom had packed you a few extra snacks. But, Emilia said she had to hold up her reputation as your cool aunt...even if she wasn't related to you whatsoever. And so far, she was holding it up.

You didn't know why she was here, but you assumed it was because Kim was in the field and they needed someone to translate audio. Sometimes Jay would call in Emilia if he knew that she wasn't working to do some translating so he didn't have to deal with calling up a patrolman. You also knew from hearing some of his conversations with Will that Will wanted to ask her out.

And, you hoped she say yes. You wanted Emilia to be your actual aunt. Apparently, she had a thing for doctors according to Jay's side of the phone conversations you'd heard, so you hoped it'd work out if your uncle Will ever got the balls to ask her out.

All of a sudden, Emilia came into Jay's office and he took off running. Hailey saw this and she started following them.

"What?" you asked yourself.

They always would tell you if they had to leave and they'd always be sure to tell you they loved you before they left.

You quietly walked out of the breakroom and towards where you had seen them running to. You assumed they were in the tech area because of the direction they ran in and the fact that whenever Emilia was here, she was most likely in the tech room.

As you got closer, you started hearing Spanish.

Someone talking about an attack...an attack on an orphanage.

A man said it was in the Tabernas Desert.

You peeked your head around the corner to see that on the screen there was a man in a nice suit and someone sitting at a table with handcuffs on.

"Anything we don't already know?" Hailey asked.

"Not that it sounds like right now," Emilia answered. "They're just talking about the orphanage Y/N and Illiana were in and where it was."

So this is the guy who did it. This was the guy--no, the monster--who led the attack that killed your sister.

"The lawyer just asked Rodríguez why he did it," Emilia said.

"And?" Jay asked

"Jay, I need to be able to hear them talk, so shut up."

Jay held his hands up in a sign of surrender.

"The lawyer just asked if it was something personal, something like Rodríguez being an orphan and he didn't have a good experience there so he attacked it, something that would tug at the board of appeals heartstrings essentially." There was a pause as Emilia continued listening. "He said no." She paused again. "Oh my God."

"What?" Jay asked frantically. "Why did that prick kill innocent children?"

"He said he ordered the attack because the orphanage was receiving aid from the US, for things such as food, clothing, and basic necessities."

"Un-fucking-believable." Jay wanted to punch something, but he restrained himself. "So, because our country was helping those who couldn't help themselves, this prick went after them?"

"That's what it sounds like. I'm sorry, Jay."

"Hails, how are we going to tell Y/N?"

"You guys don't have to tell me," you said as you made your presence known. "I heard the whole thing."

Jay sighed. "I'm sorry cariña, really I am. I'm sorry that this happened to you. That you had to find out this way. That this was the reason for what that monster did. I'm sorry."

"Dad read my outline?" you asked, turning to Hailey.

"Yeah, nena, he did. It was just open and you know him, he couldn't stop himself."

"Because he's a detective before he's a sergeant, just like Nancy Drew," you said, bringing it back to the books you'd used to read with your dad every night when you had just come over to the states from Spain and were working on your English.

"This should never have happened," Jay said softly as he walked over to you and brought you into a tight hug. "People that do these kinds of horrific acts shouldn't have the right to be born, much less to live."

"But if that wouldn't have happened you wouldn't have found me. And I wouldn't have found my forever Mom and Dad."

A/N: I wrote over 6.5k words to get this posted today! That's a new personal record for me! Also, my neuroscience class is kicking my butt right now, so if I don't update as frequently, that's why. Hopefully, I'll get one out every week or every two weeks at the latest. Please like/reblog and comment because I love getting feedback and it keeps me motivated to write. If you want to be added to the taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you! 

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e 

[shadyteacup]

just read your recent headcanons AND I LOVE IT. THANK YOU SO MUCH AUTHOR TEACUP DHDKND- also, my favorite character? i can't really pick (since i love all of them) but may i request for a ranpo x reader? (any pronouns!!) they guide him when he's travelling to different parts of the city, give him snacks when he wants some and stuff? If that's not too much to ask of course! Have a lovely day/evening! 🥺🥺 💕

- 🍙

Jsksksksksksks u r so sweet aaaaaajakaakakakakakasksksksks😖💕💞

I shall repay ur kindness with this piece of tooth-rotting fluff<3

Candy Crush

Ranpo x gn! Reader

"Ne, Ranpo, have you tried the oreo frappe at this café?"

You say, pointing at a cozy establishment.

Ranpo looks over to the place, eyeing it's soft, pastel aesthtic.

'Looks good..', he thought.

"Nope! Let's go!", he says, dragging you across the street.

You forcefully tug him back, just in time to prevent a passing vehicle from hitting you two.

"Be careful! That car almost hit us!", you pull him behind you, lacing your fingers through his, and guiding him carefully across the street.

"Besides, didn't you just have breakfast??"

Ranpo timidly hid behind you, trying to avoid this topic. He had eaten a box of cookie dough for breakfast. It looked so good, how could he have not had it?! If you got to know about this, you would scold him and force him to have something healthy and filling right now. You wouldn't let him try the yummy frappe you were talking about.

"Anyways, let's go."

The tiny bell on the door jingles when you two entered, a smiling face greeted you both.

Ranpo directly waltzed over to the pastry section, sticking his face on the glass that separated him from his favorite man-made creations.

His nose was scrunched up against the glass, and his green eyes were, for once, open, and scanning the various colorful treats.

"What can I get you, sir?", the girl behind the counter asked in a sweet voice, her rosy cheeks and kind face perfectly matched the homely atmosphere of the Cafe.

"Everything.", Ranpo said, not looking up.

The girl was a little surprised at that.

"He means to say that he wants to try one of each pastry available." , you say.

The girl nods.

Before she could get working, you interrupted saying, "But, we're here to try your famous oreo frappe. So can we get two of those? And probably a healthy, filling sandwich. You can choose which one."

She smiles, noticing how you were playing the caring and mature role for your boyfriend.

"Ok!"

Ranpo whines, pouting at you.

"I wanted to have the pastry!"

You pick a table for the two of you, seating yourself there, waiting for him to follow.

"It's not very healthy for you, Edo. Plus, it would be too many empty calories."

Before he could retort, you replied.

"Don't say that you need them to use your brain, because you don't have any cases today, and haven't had any for the past week."

Ranpo huffs angrily, looking out the window. He knew he had lost the argument, and there is nothing he could say to make you change your mind.

But, for the sake of an argument, he decided to pick on you.

"Didn't you have breakfast too? Then why are you having a sandwich? Aren't those useless calories?"

You pat his head, angering him further.

"That's for you."

He froze, staring at you with wide eyes.

"Why? Didn't you say I just had breakfast?"

Had you seen through his lies? He had told you that he'd had toast and hot chocolate for breakfast when you picked him up today. You both were taking a much needed walk, and had decided to actually go out on your holiday. You had insisted on Ranpo getting out of the house, as he was always either in the ada office, the taxi or some random police office overseas. He had to travel a lot, since he was required to solve cases in places outside Yokohama. At these places too, he was mostly indoors, sitting in an air-conditioned room, going through evidence and documents to solve the case. His body practically begged for some vitamin-D. Some sun would do him good.

He knew how upset you get when he doesn't follow a proper diet, and often fuss over what he puts in his mouth. So, he strung together a simple lie, ensuring that all the details were memorised and believable. He had told you that he had milk in the fridge, it was a carton that Yosano had bought for him, and that he always had chocolate anyways, and Atsushi ran down to the store to get him a loaf of bread. That's how he had made some hot chocolate and toast for himself. He hadn't exposed the fact that he had emptied a carton of cookie dough instead. So, how did you know?

"You can't even turn on the stove, Ranpo. You actually expect me to believe that you can make yourself a normal breakfast?", you smile at the shocked ravenette sitting across you.

"I have a toaster!"

"Did you melt the chocolate in the toaster?"

"No! I- I mixed it in the milk!"

Laughing, you said,"Dummy, you need to melt the chocolate before mixing it. Also, you need to melt it on a double boiler. Do you even know what that is?"

You lean over to peck his cheek.

"No. No you don't."

The waiter arrived with your order, and placed it on the table.

"Next time, I'll just cook you something anyways."

Ranpo was glad to have someone like you in his life. He loved that you cared so much about him.

Your chuckles made him frown.

"Don't laugh."

"Fine, fine..", you continued laughing anyways.

"No 'fine, fine' either!"

"Sure sweetheart ;)"

You say, observing his adorable face as he reaches out for the drink.

"No,no no. You're finishing that sandwich first!"

And so, you both wandered the lively streets for the rest of the day. Ranpo tried his best to buy many sweets from every shop you two visited, and you tried your best to ensure that he had something healthy as well.

Also, you tried your best to ensure that he doesn't run across the street like a little excited child.

[daandyli0n]

oc incorrect quotes: myst edition

oh hey! another one of these! its. Been A While!

most of these are vines

anyway, here we go:

(warnings: mentioned drug use (potions), mentioned suicidal thoughts, suggestive-ish(?) text, mentions of manipulation)

~~~~~~~~~~~

*l’manberg war; myst has been there for about three days*

myst, trying to not raise suspicions from the dream team: Welcome to Bible Study, we’re all children of Jesus!

[most of og l’manberg getting high off of potions in the background]

myst, mildly panicking and trying to cover this up: KUMBAYA, MY LORD-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*vol 2*

myst: I’m currently running on two hours of sleep, suicidal thoughts, and an Oreo, and I’m ready to fight god, [lil inhale] oR BECOME HIM-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

someone: Hey, you okay?

myst: Yeah, just lately I haven’t been able to think straight.

myst’s brain: [stuff along the lines of “balls”, “d**k”, etc]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*early LN lore; to the tune of that one piano vine*

myst: [talking about how much they like quackity (platonically)]

purpled: Shut the f**k up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*exile arc*

myst, with quackity holding a sign that says “manipulating”: There is one thing worse than manipulating someone.

[pulls down a paper on the sign. the sign now says “manipulating a child”] 

quackity: Boom!

dream: A child!

myst and quackity, simultaneously: No-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*dream just got put in prison*

myst, who’s just overjoyed that clingyduo is okay: This is amazing- Uh, first off, I have to thank god-

XD, watching this s**t go down: W-Wha-? Dude, I didn’t really help you out at all, but...I appreciate the shoutout for sure-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

that’s all for now, but i hope y’all enjoy!

[decayandfanfics]

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power.

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write crusty boy here really in character. At least after AfO is taken. Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.

As always, let me know what you think!

________________________________________________

Chapter 12 / Chapter 13

Any port in a storm

Tomura knows a bastard when he sees one, and Chisaki Kai looks like someone who could stab his own mother just to prove a point.

And he’s not only a bastard, but he’s also very full of it. The way Chisaki talks like he knows better than anyone else, questioning Tomura and calling him out on his previous failures, as if he knew anything about dealing with pro heroes and a bunch of overpowered children ruining your plans.

Tomura knows where he’d failed and he learned from it, but that doesn’t mean he’ll have to waste his time hearing this asshole lecture him about leadership and planning. After all, Chisaki Kai is nothing but a low thug that works for money or whatever the fuck someone like him cares for. The league, on the other hand, has bigger matters to attend.

He sure like the sound of his own voice. Tomura thinks, narrowing his eyes when Overhaul begins to babble about leadership and pawns like they are nothing else than mere meat at his disposition, and not people with interests and wants.

It doesn’t take long before shit goes down. Magne’s remains puring over them like rain because the bastard makes her explode like a piñata with just a single touch.

Yes, Tomura also knows a deadly touch when he sees one, and Overhaul’s looks ridiculously overpowered.

“Compress, wait-!” Tomura shouts, but Chisaki is faster and before they understand what’s happening, Compress quirk goes off and Overhaul blows Atsuhiro’s arm with a simple touch and the fucker is so damn coward that the moment Tomura lounges towards him, he just orders one of his pitiful pawns to act as a fucking shield and die in his place.

The yakuza has the nerve to call himself the next leader and Tomura is almost impressed by the audacity.

“Now I get it. You should have just started with this, saved us all some time.” Tomura spits making a monumental effort to keep his cool for his sake and the sake of the league.

“Where are they come from?! We weren’t followed, I swear!”

“One of them probably has a tracking quirk.” He’s also trying his utter best to not smack Twice’s masked head for being so damn naïve.

“We’ll cool our heads and try again later. I ow your side an arm.”

“Bastard! I’ll eviscerate you!” Twice barks at his side, holding Compress against his chest.

“Tomura-kun. Let me cut him. Real quick.” Toga ask, pulling out her knife.

“No.”

“it’s my responsibility!” screams Twice.

“No.”

“I don’t wanna rush you, but the sooner we talk the better.” Think things over carefully. Consider how your organization should be run, then when you’ve calm down, call me.” Overhaul speaks like he didn’t just killed Magne, comparing her with one of his ridiculous pawns and Tomura hates him, truly. It’s not like when he says he hates society and heroes, no. This is more personal. He hates Chisaki Kai the same way you hate your childhood bully, the same way you hate someone because you had the misfortune of knowing them.

“They’re gonna pay for this. Why can’t I go after them?!”

“Now thinking, we need to get Atsuhiro-san to a doc. “

“Right.”

“That wouldn’t work…damn that hurts” Atsuhiro whispers almost unconscious.

“Maybe we do have time to make them bleed.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Tomura-kun!”

“Another time.” He orders, watching as overhaul and his band of assholes disappear into the night “You’ll pay for what you’ve done today.” He swears already thinking in a million ways he could make him regret this.

“Shigaraki! We need to see the doctor! Atsuhiro is bleeding out!”

Ah, doctor Ujiko really found and excellent time to go missing, didn’t he? Now without his sensei and the hideout completely wrecked by the heroes, he’s between kidnapping some doctor or finding some abandoned hospital and pray there is some supplies that could work. But kidnapping someone would take time and efforts and the nearest abandoned hospital is forty minutes away and Compress doesn’t have so much time.

Ah, the perks of being a villain.

“Tomura-kun! What do we do!?”

He clenches his fists until his knuckles go numb, his mind rushing, thinking what to do besides the obvious, trying his best to ignore that option.  

“We need to take him now!”

Tomura rolls his eyes and suck his teeth hating his life because this is the last thing he thought he would be doing when he woke up that morning, something withing him twisting painfully between excited and done with this awful feeling he can’t rid off.

“Tomura-Kun! What do we do?!” Toga presses again, panicking because Compress is getting paler and paler.

He groans kicking some rock completely fed up. Why couldn’t Atsuhiro just stay sit there when he told him to wait? Now the itch gets insufferable out of nowhere and Tomura scratch his neck raw, snarling under the hand that covers his face. He doesn’t want to go there, but Twice needs help to carry Atsuhiro now that the man just fainted, and he can’t do copies of himself, so he’ll need someone else. It could be Toga, but Tomura hardly thinks she’s going to be helpful with that tiny body of hers. Besides, they’ll need someone who can clear out the streets before rushing out, so, he’ll have to go anyways.

Tomura sighs defeated, this isn’t about him, so he decides to ignore the knot in his stomach and the quick drumming of his heart against his ribs, preparing for the imminent headache before barking the orders.

“Follow me.”

______________

 A loud bang on your door wakes you suddenly.

You observe your room, remembering that you were studying before falling asleep over your desk after a whole day of paper reading and a pack of oreo’s for dinner. Your laptop screen flashes 00:23 am, so you’ve been sleeping for hardly an hour.

Another bang and this time the sound of someone trying to enter your apartment at midnight shoots your adrenaline levels to the top.

“Big sister! Please!” Toga’s voice sounds desperate from the other side of the door turning your fear in worry, so without thinking, your feet tap quickly through the flat to just opening it before some neighbor sees her, but your mouth falls open the moment Toga rushes into your apartment with Twice and Shigaraki behind her, carrying a half-conscious Compress.

In a second that feels like hours, your eyes travel quickly between all three men, to stop on the red ones that bore into you, sending shivers through your spine as you heart do a flip inside your cage because your infatuation with the villain is right there, in the same place he left it last time he touched you.

“What the…” Your voice gets stuck in your throat when you notice that Compress bloodied wound is in fact him missing an arm.

“Shit. Lay him down on the table” You order already running across your flat looking for a hairband. “Take his shirt off, Toga, bring me some towels.” You rush to your bathroom to wash your hands quickly, and Shigaraki follows you without a word, clutching at your side looking for the first aid kit your keep under the sink.

“Tell me what happened.”

“A Yakuza bastard blew his arm of with his quirk.” He spits carrying the kit to the kitchen. “He shoot him something and his quirk went off.”

“You think it’s some kind of drug?”

“Probably.”

“Crap. It could be dangerous if I don’t know the effects.”  

You run behind him, taking some latex gloves from the kit before approaching your patient. Atsuhiro breathes heavily over your kitchen table, his legs dangling from the edge as he bleeds all over the floor.

Your quirk activates in full force the moment you get close to him.

“Hello, Mr. Compress.” You talk to him trying to calm him the same way you would talk to a child patient as you remove the poor bandage that wraps the remains of his left arm. “Long time no see.”

“Lovely to see you, dear.” He whines with his hand holding the gory pieces of meat that still dangles from his shoulder, a chonk of his broken bone horribly exposed. “It hurts a lot, you know?”

You wince at the sight but straighten yourself to do your job and let your hands hover over his wound, numbing his nerves, keeping his blood from spilling out because he’s already at the brim of drying out.

“I know, but it’s okay now, Compress. I’ll take care from here. Now…sleep…” you lull him with a smile, relaxing him quietly, slowing his heart rate to make him pass out.

“Is he..?” Twice ask watching with trembling voice.

“he’s unconscious now. I can stop the bleeding with my quirk for now, but I’ll need to…sew this…. somehow.”

“Oh! Big sister! Your quirk is amazing to cure people!” Toga says joyfully, leaving the towels close to you.

“Himiko-chan. I need you to wash your hands very carefully. I’ll need some assistance.”

“Okay! I’ll be back.”

You begin to clean the wound, retiring the little fragmenst of bone from between the exposed muscle with some tweezers.

“How bad.” Shigaraki is behind you, towering over your shoulder and you can feel his warmth on your cheek, as he winces watching the mess over the table.

“His arm is destroyed. I need to cut a little of bone, it’s too jagged to just close this, it could lead to an infection. Only after that I’ll be able to rearrange this mess.”  

“What do you need.”

You look at him worried. He’s covered in blood and for a moment you panic thinking that maybe he’s injured too.

“A-Are you al right?”

The question comes out as desperate product of your impossible nerves from having him so nearby. It caught him by surprise from the way his jaw clenches before answering.

“…I’m fine. What else do you need.”

Relief washes over you, so you return your eyes to the man over your kitchen table.

“I…my dad had a garden saw in the closet. Disinfect it the best you can. This is going to be nasty.”

___________

 When she’s finally done, it’s already 3 am.

Compress lays over the couch, finally sleeping after some gruesome scalpel work that lefts her panting from her quirk overuse, siting in the floor with her back against the front door.  

A thick trace of blood drifts down her nose, but she’s too tired to even care, so she just let her head rest on the cold wood.

Silence and shadows fill the apartment. The lights are off so Atsuhiro can sleep, but the lights of the street are enough to see inside the flat. In her room, twice and toga share the bed, already sleeping after helping with the cleaning. Her kitchen looks spotless under the moonlight, none could guess she just operated someone over the table with a gardening saw.

“Are you sure you are okay?” She asks with hooded eyes, her own conscience drifting slowly.

“…I told you I’m fine.”

Tomura watches her, leaning against the wall in front of her. She’s grown thinner and paler than the last time he stood in her home. Her bloodied clothing only accentuating her lack of color and the dark bags that rest under her sleepy eyes.

She stares back, neither of them wanting to look away, not when the three steps gap between them extends so wide and deep that it hurts. The notion of being face to face again stirs quietly inside of him and all his anger and dread goes silent now she’s there at the reach of his hand, and Tomura understand that he doesn’t know how to feel now.

Her stomach growls of hunger and her eyes open in embarrassment and surprise.

“Stop staring at me.” She mumbles cleaning her face with the back of her sleeve, getting up to walk over her kitchen.

“You were staring first.” He mumbles annoyed “whatever…” Before he can even walk to the door, she stops him dead on his tracks.

“You can stay…if you want.”

Tomura looks at her while she prepares a sandwich, trying to avoid his gaze at all costs to no avail. Her hand trembles as she tries to put some butter on her bread, giving away her internal turmoil, because as him, she doesn’t know how to feel about this sudden intrusion in her life. Again.

Well, at least he’s not he only one who feels awkward.

She laughs halfheartedly out of the blue.

“What’s so funny?” he asks looking at the wall, his voice mellow because he doesn’t have the energy to quarrel with her now. Not after everything that happen.

“It’s just…I swore I was going to choke you with my own hands next time I saw you.” She cannot stop the laughing.

He doesn’t know what to do with that statement, finding difficult to keep his distant mask now she’s trying to sound playful. He can feel his anger and awkwardness dissolving into something more bearable so he just smirks amused.

“Bare hands, huh? no quirk involved?”

“Yep. Acapella”

“And how is that working for you?” he asks, gravitating closer to her, standing at her side, very aware of the height difference between them as he leans to see her face better.

“Oh, fuck off.” She smiles.

“Ladies first.” He cannot contain the little smile that blossom in his face.  

Tomura feels his shoulders relaxing softly now. He falls in the ease of her company, the roaring turmoil he’s been feeding all these past weeks, going silent now that she’s finally close, smiling tired and lightheartedly.

It was this, and he almost forgot about it. It was the soft wittiness, the clever jokes and back and forth. He liked to talk to her because it was like playing a game, but somehow, he forgot between his bitterness and rage.

“Sandwich?” She asks, handling him half oh her own.

“…Thanks.”

They eat in silence. Atsuhiro’s breathing is the only sound in the house.

Tomura is tired, his eyelids weight heavy over his eyes, but this moment is enough to keep him awake, so in exchange he memorizes the smell of her home, her presence filling him softly and gently, calming the rage and the fury he’s been feeling over a month in a rare peaceful moment that feels dangerously too much like finally coming home.

What a stupid thought to think he could get rid of this sweet softness, the only one he’s ever felt. A foolish desire made of spite and bitterness in a place that can only be filled with their silent bond.

He feels the gap closing slowly, luring him to stay for the night. He should…he could...maybe this…

“I’ve missed you.” She whispers suddenly without looking at him, her eyes fixed in the wall in front of them.

Time stops and he whips his head so fast he could hear something crackling in his neck.

He definitely didn’t though about this when he woke up that morning.

“Like wise.” He raps swallowing hard, thinking about all the things his done in a month, realizing there was not a single minute of the day in which he did not think of her.

He’s truly smitten, isn’t he?  

“I’m sorry about what I said…i…I got nervous. I thought you would get mad, I just made it worse.”

“Why would you think that, huh? I thought I was pretty obvious.” He says, hiding his hands in his coat before changing his weight to the other leg.  

“Because you are a big bad villain, aren’t you? and I’m just…me.”

“Just you” he snorts “you managed to terrorize one of the most dangerous villains without even touching him. Just you is fine enough to deal with anyone. Even big bad villains.”

She smiles shyly.

“Shigar-“

“Tomura.” He interrupts, finally looking at her.

She looks beautiful under the pale light; the shadows of the night drawing angles and shapes on her face.

“Tomura.” She states, meeting his gaze and he delights in the way his name falls from her lips like a spell and less like a curse. She looks at him decided, certainty written all over her face and he knows she’s about to do something reckless. “I really like you.”

Tomura has learned his lesson. As he always does, so he absorbs her words and weighs them carefully inside his chest.

“A horrible decision, really.” He mocks back with a grin, closing the gap between them until he has her trapped between him and the kitchen counter. “Your parents never told you about big bad villains?” this time he asks close enough for her smell to fill his personal space as he gives her a hungry look, licking his lips.

“Oh, Fuck you.” She sighs laughing quietly.

“I hope you do.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Are you going to keep talking back or are you going to kiss me already?” She whispers feeling his warm breath against her lips.

He stops entranced with the way her eyes reflect the streetlights from the outside. He’ll think of her like this frozen in time and undercover darkness, just a silver string of light between the shadows of her home and his life.

Tomura kisses her hungry and desperate. His jagged lips bruising against her mouth, invading her, eager to feel her closer, but is not enough. Him yanking her against his chest, four fingers gripping tight over her wrist as his right arm encircle her waist is not enough. Feeling her hands clutching at his shirt pulling him is not enough. Sensing the motion of her rising cage as she began to suffocate is not enough.  

No, nothing is enough when he wants to split her chest open to hide inside her ribs, filling her with this feeling that’s been smothering him for too long.

He’s overwhelmed by this unforgiving desire that goes beyond anything physical. Is about the terrifying nature of the world that surrounds him, where she’s the only hideout that could contain his horror and everything that scares him about himself.

Like sensing his despair, she moves her hands to his face, caressing his jaw enamored with the shape of his face, the texture of his skin and the soft locks of white hair that brush over her fingers every time he tilts his head to kiss her deeper and deeper.

A low rumble fills his chest as she opens her mouth fully to him, giving him access to her warmth for him to gorge on her taste, terrifyingly close and needy.

She breaks contact searching for air, but he moves ever so little.

“The things I’ll do with that bickering mouth of yours” He whispers before biting her low lip, giving her a ravenous look.

“Like wise.”

He considers to just shove her against the wall and take her right there over the dishwasher, finally sinking his teeth on her skin, buried deeply in her; but since she was bleeding not long ago, tired and in desperate need of sleep, he keeps it gentle. They are both tired. Tired from the fight, tired from the operation, tired of this game of cat and mouse they’ve been playing for two months, so he shoves his animal instincts under the rug and treats the situation the same way he holds things carefully with his fingers.

Just this one time he promises, knowing he will go absolutely feral on her as soon as he has the chance. So, he just leans over and kisses her gently…surprised by his own tenderness and the warmth that fills him, something akin to happiness and peace.

Tomura nuzzles against her cheek before resting his face on her shoulder, the awful longing that’s been eating him alive finally shut down.

“Come.” She calls him softly, a ghost of a kiss burning over his lips before she tugs him by the hem of his coat, leading him to the spare room.

He follows her quietly, taking off his sneakers and coat before getting inside the little bed, wrapping his arms tightly around her, fists safely closed at her back.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” She asks merely a whisper, her lips delicately brushing his own.

His forehead rest against hers, her warmth inviting him to close his eyes and rest, lulling him silently into sleep.

“…yes.” He whispers as he drifts away, feeling the light touch of her lips kissing the scar over his mouth.

“Good.”

Chapter 14

[sardonyxie]

Hockey Pucks and Cricuts

Veterans!ModernAU - Levi Squad Edition

These are simply the result of my imagination during a zoom class (Preschool intervention if I remember correctly) and of some ideas thrown in by my best friend/roommate. Some facts were thought of from canon perspective, but most of them are just our five idiots in our everyday world. Enjoy!

Warning: Rivetra content and some swearing! If it’s not your thing and you want to hate, scroll down and move on. 

English isn’t my first language. If some sentences sound weird or wrong, let me know so I can correct them!

Word count: 1 173

Miche squad is up!

Levi 

(Inspired by this)

- He’s from Canada and speaks French. Nobody (except Mikasa) understands him when he’s cursing the others, but they are still scared shitless. When a stranger is being stupid, he makes sarcastic comments in their face by talking about it in French to Mikasa.

- He’s Mikasa’s cousin, but they might as well consider themselves siblings since they spend a lot of time at each other’s house. Both Kuchel and her younger brother, Mikasa’s father, moved for a better life…

- Introduced Eld to hockey and plays with him. Oruo tagged along one day and also got into it.

- Only lets Gunther sit at the front when he’s driving them all since Petra has horrible music taste, Eld can’t follow directions and Oruo bites is tongue to every bump on the road.

- I consider him as street smart. In this case, he learns languages effortlessly and quickly and knows how to get out of a situation by using that skill (and his fists). Never got below an A for those classes in highschool.

- Even if he doesn’t show it very well, he cares a lot about the others and actually offers the most thoughtful presents out of everyone in the squad. He’s a good listener.

Eld

- Is actually from Australia. He moved in the neighborhood when he was five but still has an accent when he speaks. He is Oruo’s next door neighbor and often goes to his house when he wants a tasty snack.

- Plays hockey and actually prefers winter over summer. He’s always down for hockey nights with the other four when the national league is broadcasting its yearly competition. He’s a very dedicated fan of Trost’s Titans.

- Was the type to put everything from his lunchbox in his sandwich. Apple sauce with a ham and mustard sandwich anyone? He still makes strange food mixes nowadays.

- He’s a great photographer and takes pictures for Petra’s shop. However, he can’t pose and often looks silly in pictures.

- Gunther’s best friend. They are THE unbeatable duo at guessing songs. They know pretty much everything from old music to K-pop.

- Plans every vacation trip even if they go oversea. Something always come up in the schedule, but those moments are the highlight of the trip. Petra and he create a travel book for each expedition, and they document it with pictures and anecdotes.

Petra

-  She’s Carla’s first child from her previous marriage. Her dad was in the army and died on duty when she was little. Zeke is a few months older, and they didn’t like each other at first. Now she tolerates him, but they have very opposite point of views in life which sparks some quarrels during diners.

- Half-German from Carla’s side and she speaks the language too.

- Her best girl friend is Nifa.

- She’s all about stationary stuff! She has a super chic bedroom with a beautifully decorated study area. She owns a Cricut machine and makes custom stuff for her friends. She gets inspiration from the people around her and their interests to create cute collections to sell on her Etsy shop.

- Played volleyball along with Hanji, Nifa, Nanaba, and Lynne, and she still coaches her high school team. (Because she mostly has support/team kills in canon, I think she was the setter and glued the team with her sportsmanship and teamwork.)

- Levi and she were the firsts of their entire group of friends to get together. However, they kept it to each other and their immediate family. The others found out when Eren asked Levi if the Ackermans were still coming over for dinner during lunch one day (dang it Eren!).

Gunther

- Fully German, but he was born in Trost and doesn’t speak the language at all.

- The only one not really into sports, but is still active enough to keep a good shape. He was a baryton saxophone player for the jazz band. That being said, he’s still able to follow hockey nights because he plays NHL on his PlayStation and follows the news.

- Levi excluded, Gunther and Petra are the last two brain cells of the group. They almost always chose each other when they did projects or small work. Out of spite, they once decided to do a team of 4 project with Moblit and Nifa instead of Eld and Oruo and to prove they carry the squad.

- Super popular on social media for some reason?

- Dad of the group since day one. He looks scary sometimes, but he’s just a big softie.

- King of the aux cord. I would trust him with my life.

Oruo

- Scottish Oruo anyone? Somehow has a German accent and tries to pick up ladies by speaking very broken Spanish? Calls himself Mr. Worldwide (will make more sense at the end of the list).

- Is favorite cookie? Oreo. “The company should feel blessed about having a cookie with a name like mine” “Oruo they were made before your parents even thought about conceiving you”.

- Because he’s a competitive little shit, he was also part of the swimming team.

- You know when a potato chip brand does a mystery flavour? He always tries to guess it with Moblit and will spend a ton of money to get the cash prize.

   > The thing is: he hates chips. “Those are an abomination why would you eat those when you have popcorn. As much as I LOVE to clean, they are messy, and the stains are hard to remove from the sofa.”

   > Moblit guesses the mystery flavor right all the time, thus making him the winner of all bets and leaving Oruo a little poorer each time.  

- He cares a lot about his friends, even if it doesn’t show because he insults everyone. HOWEVER! If anyone else tries to insult them, he’s going to throw fists and will make people cry with his insults.

- Tried to get into Harvard just to flex.

   > Newsflash: he didn’t.

- Gelgar and he are the party masters. They know how to throw a mean fiesta, and it’s almost always a huge success.

Rivetra bits

- I feel like their relationship just… happened? They were friends one day and next thing you know they were dating.

- Double dates with Mikenana or Mobuhan.

- Mikasa loves Petra and always reminds Levi to marry her one day. On the other hand, Eren was scared of Levi at first and didn’t understand what his half-sister saw in him, but he changed his mind over time. He can’t see anyone else with his big sister now.

   > On that note, Zeke can’t get over the fact that she chose to date is so called “enemy”.

- They don’t like the attention which is why they haven’t said anything for a very long time.

   > However, the other three had a little idea of what was going on, but they are best friend material and kept the info to themselves.

-  Winter. Wedding. Petra with a long sleeve dress and Levi being handsome as always.

___________________

Do we like it? Do we hate it? What happened to the Ackermans in Canada? The Jäger household dynamic would be nuts!

Please let me know your thoughts! Should I do more of these in this AU?

If you have any other verse idea and would like someone to write it up let me know! 

[hopesbarnes]

Right In Front Of Me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda’s your best friend. The only person who knows you completely. So if she’s your friend, why does her going on a date bother you so much?

Warnings: None 

A/N: 1. men ain't shit so here's a wlw fic. 2. I am 100% up to write a second part to this if you guys are interested?

Parents call their kids special every day. It’s nothing new. Moms and Dads all over the world think their kid is unique and that they’re different from every other child out there. Your parents though? They were spot on. You were special, and not in the way they led you to believe.

You first learned about your powers when you were 13 years old. One minute you’re eating dinner with your parents. Discussing math tests over spaghetti. Then you felt a rush of warmth and suddenly they were eating with famous singer Stevie Nicks. (Who you had just been listening to prior to the meal). It didn’t take long for the lot of you to realize that by special, it meant mutant. Somehow, someway you were born with the ability to shapeshift. If you can picture the person, you can become that person. DNA and all. 

For the next four years, you felt alone. You learned to control your ability, and not just shapeshift all the time. But you still couldn’t let anyone get close to you. They could find out and put you in harm’s way. So no friends, or boyfriends. Just you and your parents. And you got used to being lonely. It was what was best.

Until one day when you were 17, and Tony Stark appeared at your door with an offer to become an Avenger. You had no idea how he knew, but if he could find out so could someone else. So after a quick conversation with your parents, you packed up and moved to New York to live with actual superheroes. 

It was then you met Wanda. A gorgeous girl your age, who dressed witchily and was a mutant. Just like you. She was the first person to understand what it was like. To fear what you were capable of, and to know what it’s like to hide yourself to save face. It was almost instantly the pair of you became friends. You even moved into the room beside hers and spent every possible moment you could with the girl.

Shopping trips were common (avenger’s got a nice stipend, and you had no bills), movie nights were mandatory, and just grabbing lunch dates was common between the two of you. You were attached at the hip and finally felt like you had someone in your life you could trust.

Until today.

Wanda came into your room bubbly as always and announced, “I have a date.” Suddenly it wasn’t such a good day and you didn’t know why. All your energy immediately drained and your stomach felt tight. 

“With who?” you asked walking towards your connected bathroom to avoid facing her.

“Vision! He asked me to dinner,” she yelled laying back on your bed. You could hear her sigh happily. 

“That’s exciting,” you say with forced enthusiasm. Why was this bothering you so much? You should be happy your friend has a date. 

“You’ll help me get ready, won’t you?” she asks as you leave the bathroom.

“That’s what best friends are for,” you reply sincerely. 

“Thank you!” she says and kisses your cheek before running out of the room. You move your hand to where her lips met your skin. Huh.

A few days later you were over Peter’s house to help with homework. You met him through Tony and became friends. He was the person you felt closest to after Wanda. And he was close to your age. 

You’d spent the last few days confused, angry, and in a funk and everyone let you. The adults of the tower just thought it was teenage angst. But Peter called you out on it.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks between calculus questions.

“Yup totally fine!” you say half paying attention to him.

“Hey,” he says closing the textbook and looking at you. “You know you can talk to me.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong!” you sigh dramatically, “Wanda said she had a date and now I’m completely off. That’s weird right?” you ask ashamed. You should be happy for your friend.

“Can I ask a question?” he says and you smile back at him.

“Always”

“Do you think you have feelings for Wanda?” he says quietly.

“No,” you say unconvincingly, “No!” you repeat. “She’s my best friend. We hang out a lot, but it’s because we’re close. And I mean it’s normal to think she’s cute right? Anyone can see she’s attractive. Her soft skin, and pretty lips. Visions lucky really. She’s a great girl.”

Then after a moment, your eyes go wide and you turn to Peter.

In a really soft whisper, you say, “I think I’m in love with Wanda. And gay.”

“Woah,” is Peter’s response.

“Woah,” you confirm. You’re crying now and Peter pulls you in tight. 

“It’s gonna be okay. You’re going to be okay,” he says and kisses the top of your head while holding you as you cry.

After crying, you were pretty tired and sent Tony a text letting him know you were spending the night at Peter’s. He was fine with it and after Peter explained to Aunt May that you were having a bit of a gay awakening. She brought in a plate of Oreos and told you she loved you before letting the two of you watch a movie in peace. 

The next day after school you headed back to the tower to find Wanda getting ready for her date with Vision. She asked you to help do her hair, and you did while the two of you chatted about things. But as you braided her long hair you realized you really and truly were in love with her. You wanted to kiss her and hold her and date her. But she was going out with Vision, so you put that part down deep inside you and tried your best to be happy for her. 

“I’ll see you later!” she says as she grabs her purse and heads to the door.

“Have fun!” you tell her and head back to your room.

You grab the book your reading and decide to just immerse yourself into it rather than let your brain wander. Until two hours later a visually distressed Wanda opens your door.

“I thought you were on a date?” you ask and she tugs her hair out of the braid you did. She walks over to your mirror and groans at her mascara tears. “Wanda?” you ask getting up to go see what happened.

“So,” she says drawing out the oh sound. “It turns out I am in love with you.” 

“Wait WHAT?” you ask and she laughs at your shocked face.

“It took me on a date with a non-human man to realize that I’ve been in love with my best friend for a while,” she says laughing hysterically. 

“I love you too,” you rush out then put your hand over your mouth.

“You do?” she says and giggles. “What a mess we are.”

“You,” you say laughing, “Need to start your story from the top.”

“I do don’t I?” she says smiling. She grabs your arm and the two of you sit on the bed sitting with your legs crisscrossed and knees touching.

“Well,” she starts, “I was on the date with Vis. And he took me to the zoo, and it was nice. But apparently I kept talking about you. A lot. So much so in fact, he pointed it out. Said ‘You seem to talk about Y/N an abundant amount. It would seem you have feelings for her.’ Then it felt like a light bulb and I started crying and he brought me home, and I told him he’s sweet. But I can’t be with him.” 

You can’t help but have a smile across your face. On the one hand, it all feels fast. Realizing your feelings, realizing your identity, and learning she feels the same way. But on the other hand? This feels right. It feels like you always should’ve been together.

“I can’t believe this whole time you were right in front of me, and I didn’t see it,” she says and leans in closer to you. 

“You’re telling me. So, you’ll be my girlfriend now?” you ask.

“Of course dragoste,” she says and finally leans in close enough to meet her lips to yours. 

Her lips are soft and taste faintly of strawberries. Her eyes flutter close as soon as you reach a hand to brush her hair from her face, and you let yours close too. You need to savor the moment, although you’re sure there’s many more to come. Your other hand grips her waist as if telling her to stay. And she uses her hands to cup your face. The kiss lights fireworks inside you, and all you want to do is kiss her forever now. She moves softly against you and the two of you part ways and stares into each other’s eyes. 

“I love you,” she says again.

“I love you too,” you repeat once more. And you know you’ll be repeating these words to her millions more times.  

[ferretbitexo-fic-den]

hi your recent moceit fic crushed my soul, (but it was so well done, you’re rly talented holy heck) so can i request some soft moxiety/moceit/logicality perhaps? happy ending? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

*plays eenie meanie on the ships* *gets Logicality* GLASSES GAYS IT IS

By the way, thank you so much! And sorry it took so long.

let it rush to my head (Logicality)

Synopsis: Logan doesn't have feelings, but he can deal with Patton's

Warnings: Swearing, one joke from Remus, heartbreak mention, anxiety attack mention, hurt/comfort.

Logan didn’t have feelings. That much was clear, albeit rather doubted by everyone in the headspace. His function as a side was literally opposed by such concepts.

So it was quite peculiar that he was so well-equipped to deal with an overwhelming amount of something he didn’t have.

Granted, of course, they weren’t his own. Now that would be absurd.

But somehow, when a certain heart gets overwhelmed by his own function, Logan knows just how to move.

…

The first time Thomas had to say goodbye, Heart was fragile. He had gotten quite close with the boy, and the thought of never seeing him again still gave Heart a full-body ache.

“Shhh, you will be okay. Thomas will be okay.” Brain promised, rubbing Heart's back as they he was enveloped in his arms.

“It hurts! I want to see him again! I don’t want to be forgotten!” Heart cried cuddling closer to the other child.

“He won’t forget us. He promised, remember?” Brain whispered over and over and over again. “He'll never forget us, Heart.”

Young Brain wondered why his chest felt heavy and his stomach was getting squished from the inside every time Heart cries became louder.

…

Thomas’s first day of highschool left sweet Morality in a bad kind of frenzy. Poor Fear had morphed into Anxiety after the bad experiences of middle school, and Morality was indeed no better.

“Is it bad that I wanna cry right here, right now?” Morality asked when Logic came to check on him only to find him sunken in 73 plushtoys in his bed.

“I assume you’re experiencing the same prognostic emotions as Paranoia?” Logic sat beside the pile.

“I’ll pretend I know what that means,” Morality grumbled, “because I’m stupid.”

Logic sighed and decided to find Patton's head. He gently ran his finger's through the sulking one’s fluffy locks. “You know you’re not.”

Morality sat up and looked at him as though he kicked a puppy. “Deceit?” He said, squinting.

Logic chuckled. “No, I mean it. If he were here, though, he'd call you stupid.”

Morality looked at him with a hurt expression until he suddenly gleamed with a realization. “Ah.”

Logic tilted his head with a smile. “You know Thomas will be okay, right?”

“I hope so…” Morality said, wrapping his arms around Logic who indulged in the gesture.

He wondered where that warmth was coming from.

…

Thomas's first heartbreak was something Logan had anticipated for a while, but dear oh dear did he wish he was wrong.

There he was, in front of the cyan door, ice cream and oreos in hand. He knocked on the door, not excepting an answer. “Patton, may I come in?” He asked.

He heard a distorted hum from the inside and didn’t hesitate to come in. “I won’t bother asking how you are, Patton. You look awful.”

That was a lie, of course. Patton could never look bad, even if he tried. Rather, he looked exhausted, broken. And Goodness, Logan could not handle it whatsoever.

He pushed the unwelcomed lump in his throat down to sit next to Patton who gathered enough clarity to look at the emotionally constipated nerd.

“I'm so, so sorry, Logan. I- God, this, I- this is my fault, Logan, I'm sorry I pushed us!” He cried, instantly clinging to Logan for comfort.

As if by instinct, Logan wrapped his arm around the soft, hurting side. “It's not your fault, Patton. He figuratively played with you.”

Logan knew he wasn’t of that much help at this moment, so he did what he knew how to do; hold Patton and tell him the truth he needed.

Of course, by now, he was still in denial of the chest pain he was feeling.

…

Through all the happiness and sorrows Logan had watched Patton go through, there was always something that baffled the mind.

It seemed like he would throw down his own function for the sake of the other without hesitation, and such occurrences were not uncommon that in would only seem strange to him after he had already helped Patton.

Of course, this was what caused him to realize that, maybe, just maybe, he did have emotions.

And it didn’t really come to him until he had inquired the others about it.

“You like him, you stupid genius.” (Logan was baffled with the emo’s ability to both insult and complement).

“Sounds like a serious infatuation, Microspecs.” (Roman was probably hyping up his own function).

“You wanna suck his dick emotionally, Dork!” (Why did he come to Remus?).

“Oh please, tell me you're not joking! You are obviously in love with him!” (Why was Janus fuming?).

…

“You… Love me too?” Patton asked to the finally fed up logical side.

Logan was red and stuttering and dysfunctional and there was literally nothing holding him back from crashing his lips on the equally flushed Patton's in the kitchen.

The two broke apart when Patton couldn’t stop giggling.

A unanimous “FUCKING FINALLY!” was the response they got during their dinner announcement.

TAGLIST❤

@shadowjag , @wigsnatchedhoteltrivago , @arsonenthusiast , @i-love-my-dark-strange-sons @phantom-moonfire , @lostonehero , @awkward-child-of-satan , @deetheimposter , @ashtonbby2 , @lokiamorstuffs , @janus-the-sassy-snek-boi , @eeveeeclair246 @enragedbees , @franthehorsegir

[sophielovesbarnes]

All or nothing, chapter two.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader

Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy and cursing.

Author note: Alright, here we are, hot out of the oven! Sorry if it took long, I got stuck on a scene but I finally broke the writer’s block and was able to finish this chapter, we will get to see a bit more of SPN on this chapter.

I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what do you think, dm me if you want to be tagged and remember requests are open.

Chapter one

Masterlist

Chapter two

“Come on ladies! They are not called suicide running drills for nothing!” Your coach screams, you are beyond exhausted, your legs feel like they will give in, in any second now, you are covered in sweat from head to toe and your lungs feel like they are on fire. With the National competition getting closer every day your coach gets more demanding and the training sessions become more intense.

“So.” You manage to get out. “I don’t know if calling him is too straight forward.”

“Well.” Ingrid answers with her chest heaving. “It’s not like you have cared about that before.”

“Winchester! Fritz! If you are able to speak then you are not doing it right!” 

Ingrid smiles at you and then you both get back to running, an hour; that feels like an eternity later, you are under the shower letting the water wash away your exhaustion, you still have two classes left and you need to mentally prepare yourself for them. 

When you are changing into a pink dress Ingrid returns to the topic.

“So what are you going to do?” She asks while brushing her hair. “Are you gonna call the hot FBI agent?”

“I think I will.” You tie your hair up and close your locker. “There’s something really special about him, I just can’t put my finger in what.” 

“Aww little Y/N has a crush.”

“Shut it Ingrid, at least I’m doing something about mine.” You say teasingly.

“Hey I’m your base, you don’t wanna bother me.” You both look at each other with serious looks in your face and then burst into laughter. “No but seriously, tell me how it goes.” 

“Will do, bye babes.” You kiss her cheek and then leave the locker room. 

During class you are barely able to pay attention, when your psychodynamic teacher is talking about the five stages of psychosexual development and the fixations in the oral stage your mind is traveling far away, focused on soft brunet locks and shy smiles.

After school you go back to your apartment, you order chinese for dinner and when the food comes and you are so distracted you are almost sure you gave the delivery guy a 50 dollar bill and told him to keep the change, you eat absentmindedly and then head to your bathroom toying with your phone, after taking a bath you are on your bed, dressed with clean pajamas and your hair wrapped up with a towel, then you finally gather enough courage to make the call. 

The phone rings three times before he answers.

“Hello?” Your heart flutters at the sound of his voice. 

“Doctor Reid?”

“Who is this?” He asks, you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

“It’s Y/N Winchester.” You answer calmly .”You gave me your card at the FBI lecture at Louisville.” 

“Right, how- how may I help you?” He replies.

“I have a lot of questions, and you told me to call if I had them.” You take a deep breath and then say with a wide smile on your face. “But I thought it would be unfair to just ask without giving something in return, so what do you say about me buying you coffee tomorrow? If you’re still in town.” 

Silence.

You mentally slap yourself for being too straightforward, what made you think that he wants to go out with you? He most likely has a girlfriend and here you are throwing yourself to him? God, you are so stupid.

“I-I yeah, that would be…” You listen to him taking a deep breath and then he continues. “That would be nice.”

“Great! We should go to Quills, they make this mean peach- lavender lattes.”

“Sounds good.”

“Does four o’clock work for you?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.” 

“Hey pretty boy, who are you talking to?” Says a voice on the back, then the call ends.

You are smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, you have a date; well, meeting with doctor Reid, and you can barely hold your emotion. What are you gonna wear? What are you gonna say? Maybe this was a rash idea. 

The ring of your phone snaps your mind out of it, when you pick up you see your brother’s face and on the back you hear the sound of vomiting.

“I’m guessing Jo hasn’t passed the throwing up all the time fase.”

“At this point I am pretty sure she kind of hates me.” Says your Adam.

“I don’t kind of hate you Adam, I hate you, hate you.” You hear Jo say, then the sound of vomiting returns.

Jo’s pregnancy had caught everyone off guard, she and Adam were always fighting or calling each other names, but then at the New Year’s Eve party Ellen threw on the Roadhouse they both had too much to drink and the next thing you knew was that you were going to have another nephew or niece in nine months, there was a lot of crying and at some point Ellen threatened to cut your brother’s balls off, now she was just happy with the idea of having a grandchild. 

After the initial shock you were happy as well, this wasn’t your first nephew/niece though, Sam and Jessica had two beautiful daughters you adored, Dean had Ben; who was only a couple years younger than you, which was weird; and with Castiel, Dean had applied to be a foster parent, they now had a little boy; Leo, and were hoping to get another child.

You had such a beautiful family and were so grateful for it. 

“How are you baby sis?” Adam asks, ignoring Jo’s comment.

“I’m good, very tired, our coach is killing us, and I have a duckton of homework, but in general things are going great, what about you, how are things going on Kansas?”

“Things are good, the workshop is getting a lot of cars, Sam, Jess and the girls visit us every now and then, and Dean and Cas are all about Leo.”

“That’s gonna be you in a couple months you know? Have you thought of any names?”

“Jo likes William or Genevieve, I like Magnolia or Jebediah, Jo doesn’t like them so we have reached an impasse.” You see Jo exiting the bathroom and standing next to your brother.

“Those are old people’s names, tell him Y/N.” Jo says. “Tell him they are horrible names and we are not naming my child like an old person.”

“Our child” He corrects, “And they are good names Joanna.”

“I hate to not be on your side bro, but Jo is right, they are horrible.” You say.

“Thank you Y/N at least one Winchester is using her brain.” Adam rolls his eyes and you laugh.

“They are good names!” Adam insists.

“No they are not.”  You and Jo say at the same time, she was your best friend and somehow you were always in synchrony. 

“Now if you can’t reach an agreement Y/N is always a good option, it has character, it’s pretty, and let's be honest, the world could use another Y/N Winchester.”

“We don’t need another traitor.” Adam answers with false hurt. 

“Ugh, stop being such a drama queen Adam, you know what? Your baby wants an Oreo McFlurry.” 

“Five minutes ago you were throwing up and now you want a McFlurry?” 

“Yes, so better get on the road because they are going to close, don't do this for me Adam, do it for your baby.”

“So now it’s my baby?” They both start bickering and you swear they already act like a married couple, eventually Jo wins the discussion, because being honest there is no better argument than “I am carrying your baby” so Adam says his goodbyes and leaves grudgingly.  You and Jo stay talking for hours, it’s almost 3 am when you hang up, and you fall asleep right after.

When you wake up you feel well rested and you feel like you slept for so long, the sun comes bright through the window and your whole body feels relaxed, which is weird because you went to sleep really late last night, which gets you thinking that you never heard your alarm.

Wait.

You take your phone and press the side button, but the screen doesn’t turn on. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” You didn’t charge your phone, so the battery is dead which means that you are probably very late, you look up at the watch that’s on the wall, which indicates that it is already 12:15 in the morning, you are definitely very late. 

You jump out of the bed and run to the bathroom, no time for showering, you brush your teeth and get dressed with a pair of jeans, plain white t-shirt and sneakers, you tie your hair on a high ponytail, take your bag and run to the kitchen, you grab a banana and a bottle of water and run out of your house. 

You race on the road and make it to school on record time, at this time of the day it is barely impossible to find a parking space that is empty, when you manage to park it’s almost one, you mentally curse, get out of the car and run to the classroom, this promises to be a hell of a day. 

*****

Spencer has never liked this kind of conferences, they bring him back to his college years, which are not something he likes to think about, he didn’t have the standar university experience, most of the time he was made fun of, being the target of stupid pranks or being just ignored by his classmates, so yeah, college wasn’t something he remembered fondly.

He was on edge until yesterday, when he saw you on the lecture; he had already seen you on the football field being thrown into the air and then landing perfectly with a magazine worthy smile, of course he thought you were pretty, because you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever landed eyes on, but you were also most likely the type of girl that only cared about vain things and would have never noticed him if you had been one of his classmates; he was proved wrong during the lecture.

You weren’t only pretty, you were also smart, probably the smartest girl in that classroom, you were informed and you clearly cared about the topic, and when the lecture ended you went to him, when all the girls went with Morgan or Rossi, you decided to go with him; he was in such a rush he even had the bravery to give you his card.

And then the impossible happened, you called him, and not only that, you asked him out and he hasn’t felt this nervous in ages.

“Reid, Reid.” Morgan’s voice brings him back to the room, he and Rossi are looking at him with worry. “Everything alright pretty boy? You have been acting weirder than usual since yesterday.” 

“I am fine.” He answers almost automatically.

“Are you sure?” Rossi asks with an eyebrow raised. “We are worried about you kid.”

“Yeah.” He says. “Colleges just bring me to the edge.”

“Well, don’t worry about it pretty boy, we are just going to be here three more days and we are back to Quantico.”

“I know.” 

*****

The whole day you feel like you are running, you are late for class which gets you a reprimand from your teacher, which gets you late to your next class, which ends up getting you late to cheerleading practice. Your coach is so mad she has you running suicides and practicing toe touches until your legs feel like jello. 

“Point your toes Winchester! And smile, you have to sell it!”  She screams at you, everytime you jump you feel your muscles pull and your empty stomach hurls, you are almost sure that if you keep jumping you might throw up. 

When your coach finally lets you go it’s already 4:20, you mentally do the math, if you go to the locker rooms and shower you will be in the coffee shop at almost five o’clock, and agent Reid is probably already waiting for you, so you just grab your bag and run to your car mentally cursing yourself for not charging your phone. 

****

Spencer manages to escape Morgan and Rossi, avoiding their questions and he makes it to the coffee shop you indicated by 3:45, minutes go by tortuously, he sees people coming in and out from the coffee with cups on their hands, he sees people laughing and students dragging their feet, the exhaustion of exams and projects reflecting clearly on them, he gets a lot of looks and he starts to grow desperate, he calls you over and over but the calls go straight to voicemail.

By 4:30 he decides you stood him up, this was most likely a prank, how did he not notice? He was a grown ass man, an FBI agent, he was a profiler and still he fell for it. He feels terrible, how could he believe such a beautiful woman would ask him out and actually show up? He takes his bag and gets up from the chair, when he is leaving he sees a car parking and a y/h/c haired girl wearing a Cardinals hoodie and grey yoga pants getting down and running to the coffee shop. 

It was you, you didn’t stand him up, you were actually there, he can barely hold his emotion. 

“Doctor Reid.” You say, your forehead is covered in sweat and your chest is going up and down rapidly. “I am so, so, so, sorry, did I make you wait too long? I’m sorry, my phone died, and my alarm never went off, and I’ve been late everywhere, and my practice lasted too long, and i didn’t have your card so I couldn’t call you from another phone, and I came here right out of my training, so I must smell like a monster and I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t wait for long.” He lies, and you smile at him, and he can swear it is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. “Should we order?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” You lead the way and stop at the bar. “Hey Lindsey.”

The redhead barista smiles at you and then you look at him and he notices how your y/e/c sparkle with the white lights of the coffee shop. 

“What do you want?” You ask.

“You said something about peach lattes?”

“Peach-lavender lattes, it sounds weird but they are great.” You reply, and by this point he’s sure he would believe if you said the moon was made of tofu. 

“I’ll have one.”

“Great, two large peach-lavender lattes and a bagel please, can I also borrow your charger?” Lindsay marks your order on the cash register and tells you the total, when Spencer takes out his wallet you stop him. “No, I said I was buying.”

“No, I insist.” 

“Doctor Reid, put your wallet down, I was terribly late and I said I was buying, you can pay the next time.” The fact that you imply that there might be a next time makes his heart flutter. 

“Alright.” He agrees, when you get your orders you sit on the table he was waiting on and there’s a moment of awkward silence he is not sure how to break. “So, so you said you had questions?”

“Yes, I do.” You take a sip from your coffee and then look at him, he is expecting questions about the FBI, but that’s not where you go. “You have three PhDs, three BAs and you are only thirty-four, how is that even possible? Are you like a genius?”

“I, I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.” You stare at him with your eyes wide open and a smile on your lips. “...yes, I’m a genius.”

“That’s… wow.” The conversation flows after that, he talks about some of the most interesting cases he has had, you intervene every now and then making questions or comments that always seem to go to the correct point, and he feels like he can speak freely with you.

“Well, the vast majority of unsubs with a similar MO aren’t driven by the killing, they are merely fascinated by the body parts, it’s like they psychologically exist in a realm where fantasy meets delusion, it’s basically like the blueprint to create the perfect serial killer… I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“It’s okay, it’s fascinating, please go on.” You are one of the only persons he has ever met that reacts that way, most of the time he gets interrupted, he is about to start again when your phone rings, you take a look at the screen and then say. “Sorry I have to take this, it will be just a sec.”

He smiles and nods and you slide to answer. 

“What is the point of having an expensive phone if you never answer? Do you know how worried I was?”

“Hi Dean.” You reply, internally laughing at the overprotectiveness of your brother. 

“Don’t “hi Dean” me, where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering your texts?”

“I’m in a coffee shop, and my phone died last night and I couldn’t charge it until now.” 

“Who are you with?”

“I’m with a… friend.”

“Friend? Are you out with a boy? Who is he? Let me talk to him.”

“Stop being so jealous Dean.” 

“So you are with a boy.”

“I’m sorry I have to go, love you, bye.” You say and you don’t even give him time to protest before you hang up. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” He must have guessed you wouldn’t be single, he feels jealousy invading him, and he fiddled with his empty cup. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“Gross, no.” There’s a wave of relief when you answer that, and he probably shouldn’t feel it, he’s leaving in a few days, it’s not like there’s the possibility of a relationship. “It was my brother, he can get all Mama Bear when he is worried.”

“Oh, is he your only brother?”

“No, I have three, Dean, Sam and Adam, I am the youngest, like by far, Dean is 19 years older, Sam is 15 years older and Adam beats me by 8 years.”

“That’s a big difference.”

“Yeah, Dean and Sam are my half-brothers, from dad’s first marriage, their mother died when they were very young and dad took it very hard and started to move them around the country, that’s how he met my mom, he went to Minnesota they had a one night stand and she got pregnant, but she didn’t tell him about Adam until he was like six, then he went back to Windom, they fell in love, dad moved them to Kansas, he married my mom and then they had me, hence the age gap.” You explain. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

“No, I’m an only child, I grew up with Doctor Who and Star Trek as my companions.”

“Doctor Who?”

“Yeah, it’s, it’s good.”

“I know, I’m not gonna act like I didn’t mourn for a week when Ten left Rose on the beach.”

“You like it?”

“I may look like your stereotype cheerleader, but I’m a huge geek, Dean and his best friend Charlie made sure of that.”

The conversation flows as freely as water after that, for some reason you find it easy to talk to him, you tell him so many things you haven’t even told Jo, you talk about everything, favorite holidays; yours is Christmas, his is Halloween; tv shows, characters. You delite with his rambling and pay attention to every word he says, when you finally realize it, the sky has turned dark and you are the last people in the coffee shop.

“I think we should probably let them close.” 

“Yeah, we should.” You both take your bags and stand up. “Hey, when are you leaving town?”

“On friday.”

“Let me make you dinner, I make a killer lasagna.” You look at him expecting an answer but he can barely say anything, he just had an amazing evening with a gorgeous girl who is now inviting him to her house, he should probably pinch himself to make sure he is not dreaming. “Spencer?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“It’s a date then.”