#thank you tess for help with the id

[dustydaddyyy]

v: continental drift | joel miller x f!reader

flash point (series) masterlist

pairing: pre-TLOU! joel x fem!reader (no use of y/n!) summary: on a particuarly wet night, you run across tess servopoulos and joel miller, and they help you out of a tight spot chapter warnings: canon-typical violence and gore, depictions of death and decapitation (don't fucking ask), wound stitching (not sure this is a warning but for my queasy peeps), swearing, FEDRA is still an authoritarian regime, decent amount of POV-changing, the slowest slow-burn of slow burns (because I'm trash and like to make you all wait for it), a decent amount of angst

a/n: the way i giggled nervously when I realized it's been a month and a half since my last update......sorry you guys. also the sam tea is hot so please enjoy it. also this is officially the end of side a so the next time we see joel and reader will be closer to the TLOU canon timeline

The next day, you’re surprised to find Joel back in the coffee shop at the end of your shift. 

“Need something else already? Or just coming to make sure I haven’t been kidnapped?” you ask him sarcastically, as he steps up to the counter, raising a single eyebrow. 

“Just came for some coffee, thanks,” he says, and you sigh. 

“We’re closing in ten minutes,” you tell him, peering around the shop, “I just sold my last cup.” 

“Oh,” Joel lets out, and for the first time since you’ve met him, Joel seems awkward. 

“I’ll make you a fresh cup,” you say after a second, giving him a tired smile, “I work here, after all.” 

“Thanks,” he lets out, and you have to bite back a laugh at how woody he sounds. 

Who knew coffee would stump Joel Miller. 

“Did you hear what happened?” he asks you, and while his tone isn’t necessarily urgent, it’s clear the information he acquired is worth sharing as you get to work making an extra cup.

“I came home yesterday and crashed,” you inform him, “So no,” 

“Really?” Joel’s eyes fall pointedly on something that looks suspiciously like a fresh hickey at the top of your collarbone, “You. . . crashed?” 

You give him an unimpressed look. “60 years of life and no one’s ever told you it’s rude to stick your nose in other people’s business?” 

“60?” Joel asks, eyes widening and gruff expression melting from his features almost entirely for a second, “You think I’m sixty?” 

Your cheeky smile gives you away as you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head before giving him an expectant eyebrow as his scowl returns. “What happened, then?” 

“They found bodies this morning,” 

“Bodies?” you ask with a frown, looking up at him, “Where?” 

“Abandoned church on Salem," Joel says, and for a second, your eyes widen, before your frown sets deep again, "Two young guys, both carrying assault-rifle type weapons,"

"You don't think –"

"–that when your little soldier boyfriend said there was a good reason it had been boarded up, he was damn right? That's exactly what I think, sweetheart,"

Your mind is running too many miles per hour to pay any attention to the nickname or the much more comfortable tone Joel seems to take with you as your fingers absent-mindedly reach for the coffee tin.

"Infected?" you ask him, and he nods.

"Overheard a few of his guard buddies talking about it. They're pretty sure it was infected, bodies were so torn up they couldn't ID them,"

"Jesus," you mutter to yourself, your fingers absent-mindedly reaching for the coffee beans tin, only to find it empty, "Shit,"

"Still sure you got enough for a coffee?" he asks, undertone sarcastic, and you manage to roll your eyes.

"Yes," you say pointedly, before turning to peer upwards, where you spot one of the 5-kilo coffee bean bags, "But you're going to have to help take down the new bag,"

Joel nods, walking around and behind the counter to join you as your arms reach out, fingertips barely grasping the edges of the bag. Joel has an easier time reaching, and together, you manage to lug the thing down.

"But why would they stay in the church?" you wonder out loud as you set the bag down on the counter with a huff.

"Beats me," Joel says with a shrug, which only makes the gears in your head whirr harder, frown deepening.

"Doesn't make sense," you mutter to yourself as you use one of the scissors on the counter to open a corner of the bag, leaning it slightly over the edge so you can fill the tin easily.

"What are you thinking?" Joel asks as he observes your face, and you look up at him for a second as your hands go on autopilot, dropping a handful of beans in the grinder.

"I'm thinking­–" you say pointedly, "That they had no business being in that church, no reason to be there. . . the whole place was boarded up, there's signs everywhere. . . they may have been thugs but I doubt they were stupid enough to stick around,"

"Maybe they were just waiting to move the barrel," Joel says with a shrug, and you grimace slightly, shaking your head.

"There were three of them," you point out, pouring the ground coffee into a clean pot, the kettle whistling to your left, "And the checkpoint had already been abandoned for the night. . . best window to do it would’ve been immediately,"

"I'm not sure I follow," Joel says eventually as he stands next to you behind the counter, and you shake your head, bringing your hand up to rub your forehead.

"Don't mind me," you say with a sigh, "Been a long shift,"  

The rest of the process happens in silence, neither you or Joel saying a word to each other as you finish making the coffee. Joel can tell from your expression that you're still pretty deep in thought, and the expression only clears from your face when you've made two steaming cups of fresh coffee. You hand one to Joel, who reaches into his pocket for a ration card. 

“Don’t be silly,” you say, shaking your head with a frown as you finally seem to be pulled fully out of your thoughts, “I don’t want to see a single ration card come out of your pocket, Miller.”

Joel’s hand freezes in his pocket, and for a second, he doesn’t know what to say. He’s caught off guard by how friendly your tone is, and he’s silent for a minute before he clears his throat, his hands staying in his pockets.

“Alright.” 

"Who was this job for, anyway?" you ask Joel as you take a sip of the coffee you've just made, and he shrugs.

"Dunno," he says, and you resist an urge to smile at the fact that he's talking to you now, "Some wiry fucker Tess knew. . . I think his name was Peter,"

You grimace. "Creepy name for a creepy dude,” 

Joel makes an agreeing snort into his coffee. 

“Fertilizer, huh?" you say, making a face, "What the fuck's he gonna do? Plant a garden?"

Joel lets out a hum as he swallows down his sip. 

"And fuel oil, for some reason," Joel says, clearing his throat, "You put anything extra in this?"

"Wait, rewind–" you say, and suddenly your voice is serious as you set down your cup, "You never mentioned he wanted fuel oil."

Your mind is racing as you finally put together the pieces of the puzzle. The reason they asked for such specific items, staying in the church after, not wanting to be asked nosy questions–

Joel frowns as he turns to look at you, raising a sarcastic eyebrow. "Shall I write you a full report? Or just the transcript of our negotiations?” 

"Who was he?" you ask him, tone urgent as your eyes become wide, and Joel frowns deeper, “Joel, who was he?”

"Don't know, told you that already," Joel says, before his eyes flicker with mild concern, "What's wrong?"

You give him an alarmed look.

"Joel, ammonium nitrate is the main ingredient in fertilizer," you say, your voice low and filled with panic as your eyes flit around the half-empty coffeeshop, "And fuel oil––. . .they're making ANFO, Joel, it’s a goddamn–"

You don't know how Joel understands what you mean, but his eyes blow wide as he finally puts the pieces together

"-bomb," he breathes, and at that moment, there's a sound of crashing glass as something shatters the front window of the coffeeshop. Some people scream, those sitting by the window jumping away. It's a brick, and just as people gather to look at it, something else flies through the shattered window.

"Joel–" you yell, and you only just manage to turn your body, hand flying over Joel's shoulder as you push him down behind the counter, going to do the same­–

BOOM. 

The explosion is unlike anything you've ever heard, and if you hadn't had the good sense to press your hands over your ears as the sheer force of the explosives propelled you against the opposite wall, you're sure both your eardrums would have burst as sounds tear through the atmosphere around you.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself on your back, and everything hurts. Your gaze is directed at the ceiling of the building, your temples pulsing with pain, and all you can see above you is smoke, half burning embers floating through the air as you try to blink the dust out of your eyes. Plumes of dust and smoke obscure your vision, but you can still see the gaping holes in the ceiling from which pieces of stucco rain down. There’s a deafening silence in your head, filled only with a distant ringing, and your eyes blink several times as your vision becomes less blurry, bringing into focus the burning embers floating through the air as if dancing on the wind. 

For a single moment, the silence is almost peaceful as you watch them flutter down around you, eyes still blinking as your mind seems to process what has just happened, before you feel your lungs expand with a breath, and the illusion of peace shatters. 

The next breath you take is stifling, the dust scratching the inside of your throat as you try to breathe any kind of oxygen in your lungs. You’re vaguely aware of something entering your vision, a familiar face, but your eyes don’t immediately focus on Joel’s face until you feel his hands on either side of your arms, pulling you upright and propping you up against the wall. You're still dazed as your eyes roll over the scene. Most of the counter is still standing, but the front, near to where you’d been standing, has been blown to bits and everything once standing on it, is either in pieces, or strewn across the floor. 

Your eyes are torn away from the scene as you feel a squeeze in your arms, and your gaze meets Joel’s. His face is dirty, covered in grime, but his eyes are alight like you’ve never seen them, more present and alert than ever as they inspect your face. He looks relatively unharmed, except for a few bleeding cuts and scratches on his face as his eyes search your face, and you see something in his eyes you'd not seen on him before. He looks worried.  

You watch as he moves his mouth, and it looks like your name, but you still can’t hear anything except for that damn ringing. Your eyes try to make sense of the movement of his lips, but you’re too distracted by the thundering of your heartbeat in your chest. Joel seems to finally understand you can't hear him as his eyes look into yours. They’re wide with shell shock, continuously flitting between him and your surroundings in an effort to gain your bearings.

Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion. You swallow hard, trying to clear your ears, but still the ringing doesn't subside. The only thing that seems to work is your nose, and the smell is horrible, a mix of acrid smoke, burning plastic and thick dust which oppresses your lungs. Joel gives your arms another squeeze, forcing you to look back at him, the shape of your name once again appearing on his lips. You shake your head at him, eyes wide with fear as they stare into his. You watch him as he swallows hard, eyes flitting around desperately, seeming to consider something. Then he moves beside you, taking your arm and slinging it over his shoulder. He says something else that you still can’t hear, but you nod as he looks at you, anticipating it as he pulls you up. You let him, trying to cooperate as much as possible, but your whole body hurts, screaming at you to lie back down again. 

The minute your eyes focus on the full scene of the coffeeshop, your stomach turns and you wish you had never seen it. 

Smoke and debris fills the air, casting an eerie haze over the scene; tables and chairs are strewn about like discarded toys, and the floor is a harrowing canvas of debris, bodies, body parts. . .  you can see some people moving, crying, screaming. . . bending over others that lie face down and deathly still, blood smeared across the floors of the shop like morbid strokes of paint. The entire front of the coffee shop has been blown open, and the ground is littered in glass from the shattered windows which glitters dangerously in the fading daylight. 

You can’t focus on it any longer as you feel Joel pull you towards the back door, keeping one arm around your waist to hold you up and using the other to push open the door. You quickly move past the backroom, before Joel is pushing against the heavy fire escape door, which sends you both stumbling into the alleyway as it gives way. You let go of Joel at that moment, and he helps you down on one of the upturned boxes against the wall of the alley. 

Your hearing is slowly returning, the ringing becoming less and less as you can start to hear your own heavy breaths. It’s still muffled as you try and calm your thundering heartbeat, hand coming down to rest on your knees as your bow your head, shoulders shuddering. Your mind keeps flashing back to the images from inside, the acrid smell of smoke and burning flesh still so present in your nostrils it makes you violently nauseous; the tears streaming down one woman’s grime-covered face, the man screaming in pain as his hands desperately the thigh from which his bone is protruding, a teddybear lying in a pool of blood, loosely clenched in the hand of its lifeless owner. . . 

Your breathing is shallow as you register what you've just seen, trying hard to keep your breath under control, but your pants are ragged as you try to steady your shaking hands on your legs.  

"Oh god," 

You bring a hand to your mouth, the feeling of wanting to throw up overcoming you suddenly, but you find that nothing comes out except for a hoarse cough.

A voice drifts through the fog, muffled at first, before it becomes clearer as it repeats your name. You look up at Joel as your hearing finally sharpens, so you can hear the blaring of sirens in the street as several trucks drive past the alleyway, the shouts from outside and the screams from inside. 

“Those people. . .” you stammer, your eyes wide as they meet Joel’s, glittering with tears, “We have to–”

“There’s nothing we can do,” he says, a little breathless, but his voice solemn, “We have to get out of here. . . there could be more–” 

“Joel!” you let out, your voice still tinged with horror and shock. 

“We can’t!” he lets out, shaking his head as he looks down at you, “We can’t help them, okay? We have to go. . . if they decide to blow up another building, or god forbid, the fucking FEDRA army descending on this place right now, we’re in deep shit.”  

After a second in which you stare at each other, you nod shortly, heaving a breath. 

“You still have the keys to your place?” Joel asks, and you take a second to feel for them in your back pocket. Thankfully, they appear not to have fallen out during your ordeal, and you nod. 

“Alright,” Joel says with a curt nod, before looking down at you, “Can you stand?” 

You nod weakly, before getting to your feet. Your legs are still wobbling a little, and you frown as you feel pain flare through your ankle. Joel notices, and doesn’t even ask before he stands beside you again, taking your arm again to steady you against him.

You go as fast as possible, but it still feels like an eternity before you reach the building in which you live, the people in the streets either too busy running towards or away from the wreckage of the shop to pay attention to you. The minute the door closes behind you, Joel walks you over to the kitchen table, and sits you on top, your chest heaving a pained sigh. 

“Are you hurt?” he asks, and even though his tone is neutral, his hand comes up, two fingers gently taking your jaw to analyze your face. He tilts your head to look at the side of your face as you groan slightly. 

“I can’t hear anything on the left,” you say, and he hums. 

“You’re bleeding. . . eardrum must be bust.” 

“Shit,” you let out, closing your eyes and trying to take a deep breath as you feel Joel's fingers leave your face before he steps away from you. 

“You got a first aid kit? Anything like that?” 

You nod, motioning towards the sink. “Cupboard under the sink.” 

Joel moves towards the sink, before crouching down and opening the cupboard under it.  

“What about Tess–”

“She’s a smart woman,” he says through a strained voice as he gets to his feet again, setting the kit down on the counter, “She’ll figure out where we’ve gone if she has any suspicion we survived that. . . ANFO. . . I should’ve fucking known,” 

Joel feels his stomach churn with guilt; of course he knew what ANFO was, they use to use it quite a bit way back when he was still rebuilding houses for a living. 

“What was that?” you let out, and Joel’s face darkens as he grabs a glass from the upper cupboard and fills it with water. 

“Pipe bomb,” he mutters, before he looks over his shoulder briefly, eyes pausing on the scratches that litter your arms, “Something like nails of bolts in it, from what I can see. . . the ANFO packs a pretty big punch in of itself, but the nails and bolts do double the damage because they act like shrapnel. . . it’s what the Unabomber did,” 

Joel vaguely remembers watching a TV documentary on the Unabomber with his ex-wife, which had detailed his similar methods. He briefly wonders– or rather hopes– that the dude died during the Outbreak. 

“Jesus Christ,” you let out in a breath, burying your head in your hands, “Who the fuck would do that?” 

“People who feel like they aren’t being heard,” Joel says darkly as you hear him step back towards you, and you feel like sobbing. 

Hadn’t the outbreak been punishment enough? Weren’t people sick of pain and grief? 

“We sold them that shit, Joel,” you say through your hands, the despair and guilt in your tone clear as day. 

He comes to stand in front of you again, leaving the kit and the glass of water on the table next to you, before pulling one of the chairs from the side of the table to sit facing you. 

“I know,” he says solemnly as he sits down and opens the first aid box, pulling out some rolls of gauze. You finally look back up, eyes meeting his, and Joel can see in your eyes that you’re struggling with grasping this particular fact. 

Of course Joel feels guilty, to some extent, but he'd been in the smuggling business long enough to adhere to the policy that once it was out of his hands, it was no longer his business.

“Here,” he says, swallowing as he grabs your arm, zeroing in on the largest cut.

Ironically it looks much worse than it actually feels, and almost the majority of your forearm seems covered in dried and fresh blood from this particular wound. Joel works in silence, cleaning the large cuts one by one and dressing them. You don’t mutter a word either, as you sit still and stare ahead of yourself a little. Joel knows you must be in shock, and he feels a strange amount of concern every time a loud sound from the street makes you flinch. 

“Sorry,” you mutter after a particularly loud bang in the street outside makes you jump, and Joel temporarily loosens his grip on your arm as he bandages it. 

“S’okay,” he says after a second, looking up at you briefly only to find your eyes unfocused once again, staring almost vacantly at the window. He notices your ears straining for sounds from the street, brows tied tightly together like you were searching them. Then, you feel Joel’s fingers back on your chin as he gently turns your head away from him. 

“Still nothing?” he asks as he cleans the trickle of blood that has run from your ears down your neck. You shake your head as you feel his other hand come up, “What about this?” 

You assume he snaps his fingers, but you only hear it on your other side. You shake your head. 

“No,” you say, swallowing. 

Joel lets out a sigh before his hand falls back down to his lap. 

“Shouldn’t last very long,” he says, in an attempt to distract you, “Maybe one or two weeks.” 

You give a non-committal hum as you nod, eyes still not meeting his as he returns to the final scratches on your arms. 

“Stop thinking about it,” he says after a second, and this gets your attention, your head turning to look at him as he hunches over your arm. 

“How?” you return, and he looks up at you, “How do you stop thinking about it? I–. . . those people are all dead, Joel. . . that could’ve been us.” 

“Well lucky for me you got some fast reflexes,” he says, his tone almost joking as he looks back down to your arm, and you shake your head ever so slightly. 

“This isn’t funny, Joel,” you say, and your voice is heavy with emotion as he looks up at you, your eyes shining with tears. 

“I know,” he replies with a sigh, looking up at you, “I never said it was.” 

There’s a split second in which you look at each other, before you swallow shakily and look away again, silence falling over you both.

It lasts only a second before you speak up again. 

“How come you’re always the one patching me up?” you mutter, your tone half-hearted, making Joel let out a small scoff. 

“Maybe because you keep getting yourself into trouble, sweetheart,” he returns as he wraps the rest of the bandage over a particularly large gash on your arm, careful to keep his grip loose around the fresh scar of your stab wound. 

“Saving your life, you mean,” you mutter, and Joel emits a dry chuckle, before looking up at you from where he’s sitting hunched towards you. He’s not sure what he’s thinking, or if it's even a good idea, but he finds himself putting a reassuring hand on your knee, which he feels under his fingers is still trembling.

“That’s twice now,” he says with a squeeze of your knee, “You done being a hero? ‘Cause I’m afraid there won’t be much left of ya if this happens again.” 

His face doesn’t reveal much, but his tone is strangely gentle, caring. . . something you’ve never before heard from Joel. 

“Yeah, I’m done,” you say with a groan as you try to sit up a little more, Joel’s hand leaving your knee with a slight pat, before he gets to his feet. Then, his eyes fall on something under your chair, and he frowns. 

“Are you bleeding?” he asks you, looking back up, and your eyebrows knit together as you follow Joel’s eyeline and find, to your great concern, a rapidly growing pool of blood gathering at your feet. 

“I–. . . I didn’t think I was,” you let out, frowning slightly, before Joel steps around you, and you listen as he takes a sharp intake of breath. 

“Your shoulder,” he says as you watch his hand go into the first aid kit and reach for the scissors, “You don’t feel that?” 

“I mean a little, but, fuck–. . . ! What was that for?” you ask him, turning around to glare at Joel, who just used what felt like his entire hand to press down on the wound, making your shoulders erupt with pain. 

“Sorry,” Joel mutters, as you feel his fingers pick up the hem of your shirt. Then, you hear the scissors cutting through the fabric of your top, “Doesn’t look too deep, but you’ll need a few stitches I think.” 

“More fucking stitches,” you grumble to yourself, shaking your head as Joel peels the shirt from your back, “At this rate I’m going to be, like, 90% scar tissue.” 

“And water,” Joel adds in an attempt at a joke, and to his credit, you chuckle slightly. 

“And water, I suppose,” you say with a nod of your head as he reaches into the first aid kit for something to suture you with. You sit in silence as Joel cleans the needle and then your wound, before you feel him put his hand on your shoulder and he starts to sew you up. 

It hurts, and you immediately feel tears spring into your eyes as your shoulders tense and your fingers tighten around the edge of the table, knuckles whitening. 

“If you relax, it’ll hurt less,” Joel says, and his voice is practically in your ear, his breath fanning over your exposed skin. 

“I’m being stitched up by a stranger with no pain medication or alcohol. . . I think you can understand why I’m tense,” you reply with a sigh. 

Joel says nothing, but you can hear him thinking. You wonder about what. 

“Stranger, huh?” Joel asks you with a hum, and you snort.

“What word would you use?” you reply, eyebrows creasing, “Because something tells me you’re not the type to have friends.” 

Joel says nothing, only letting out a grudging sound as you feel the needle pierce your skin again, which makes you grit your teeth, shoulder tensing up again. 

“Jesus Christ woman, relax,” Joel says again, letting out a breath as you feel him put a hand on your other shoulder, “Or I’ll sew you up crooked.” 

You try your hardest, letting out a shaky breath and forcing your shoulders to un-tense, but it still isn’t enough, and Joel heaves a sigh as he tries to think of a way to distract you enough so he can sew you up at least half-properly. 

“Be honest,” he says eventually, “How the fuck did you survive a month and a half out in the open?”

You’re silent for a second, and Joel waits for your answer before getting back to work. 

“I was by myself,” you say eventually, as Joel places another stitch, which you react less violently to than the last one, “That sounds stupid, but I’m pretty sure that’s how. . . you have nobody else relying on you, you’re responsible for nobody and only have yourself to answer to. . .  you’re entirely alone.” 

“Here I was thinking that’s exactly what leads people to giving up,” Joel notes, throwing another stitch, and you let out a breath. 

“You’d think that, but spite is a good motivator,” you admit, “Most of my time traveling I was just angry at the universe for putting me through the ringer. . . so I kept going. . . kind of like a ‘fuck you’, huh?” 

“So you’re telling me–” Joel says, stopping to place another stitch, which you hiss at slightly, “–that you survived 2 months of hiking through the American backcountry as a fuck you to the Universe?” 

“Canadian backcountry, actually,” you correct, before chuckling slightly, “But yeah, pretty much.” 

“Canada?” 

“Hm,” you give an agreeing hum, “We’d heard the midwest was hell on earth. . . as much hell as you can get in an apocalypse, I suppose. . . so I crossed the border somewhere in North Dakota, walked along the border.”

“What about infected?” Joel asks, and you shake your head. 

“Only in and around big cities,” you note, “The rest is mostly national parks and forest, so I ran into relatively little trouble. . .infected were really the least of my worries, it’s the people.” 

Joel gives an agreeing hum, but before he can open his mouth to reply, your front door flies inward with an almighty sound and you hear someone’s hoarse voice call out your name. 

You jump again, eyes widening. From behind you, you’re vaguely aware of Joel’s hands having left your shoulders, and you hear the unmistakable sound of a safety clicking off. 

Sam doesn’t look too injured as his wide eyes search the room before falling on you. His rifle is slung over his shoulder, and he has some smears of grime on his cheek, as well as a bloody handprint on the side of his pants that looks too small to be his. When he sees you, his face simultaneously relaxes and tightens at once. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice hoarse as he eyes the cuts on your arms, seemingly not even noticing Joel sitting behind you, and you nod. 

“Just a few scratches,” you assure him, and he lets out a breath, before his expression becomes stormy. Behind you, Joel moves again, his hands coming back up to your wound where you assume he’s almost finished. 

“The fertilizer,” Sam pants in a panicked voice, “Who did you give it to, speedy?”

“I kno–” you say, but Sam doesn’t listen. 

“–because if you mix fertilizer with fuel oil you get–”

“–a bomb,” you finish, “I know, Sam.” 

Sam’s voice stalls in his throat, eyes widening. “You knew? You knew they were planning on blowing people up and you went along with it anyway?” 

“Obviously, I didn’t know that,” you reply sarcastically, and Sam lets out a scoff as Joel puts another stitch in your shoulder, palms coming up to steady your bicep. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sure this is a very important conversation, but I’m gonna need you to hold still for me,” he says, his voice low but still audible as he focuses on the stitch.

Something in Sam's face twists when he hears the nickname, and Joel recognizes the flash of jealousy behind the young soldier's eyes that makes him realize this might not have been his smartest move. He doesn't find himself caring too much, drawing some satisfaction in the way Sam sizes him up.

"I'm sorry, but who the fuck are you?" he asks him, moving his rifle towards Joel; not quite pointing it, but enough to tell him his attention has shifted, and not in a good way.

Joel takes up the challenge, moving his gaze from you to Sam, his shoulders setting imposingly as he gives Sam an almost unimpressed eyebrow from over your shoulder.

"Someone who doesn't have the fucking time for your little schoolboy crush."

"Joel," your voice is a sharp warning, "Not helping. . . Sam, I didn’t know.” 

“I don’t care,” Sam says with a shake of his head, “Come on, you can’t be stupid like this, speedy.” 

You close your eyes as you feel another stitch, face contorting in pain momentarily before you sigh. “I know.” 

“–and all those people. . . did you know they killed fucking kids? I mean Jesus Christ,” Sam lets out again, and at this your jaw sets slightly. 

“FEDRA hung an entire family for trying to come into the QZ last week,” you say, your tone cold, “You don’t need to lecture me on the blood staining my hands, thanks.” 

There’s an uneasy silence between the two of you as Sam takes heavy, angry breaths, and after a second, Joel clears his throat, chair grating as he gets to his feet. 

“All done,” he says, his voice back its usual stoicism, but neither you nor Sam pay him any attention as he walks to the other end of the room to clean his hands in the sink.

“You have to stop,” Sam says with a shake of his head, hands on his hips as he gives you a look. 

“I have stopped–”

“No, I mean you have to stop smuggling,” he says with a shake of his head, “I don’t ever want you anywhere near this shit again.” 

Normally you’d agree with Sam, but something about his tone irks you. It’s too authoritative, too controlling.

“Excuse me?” you utter, eyebrows flying up your forehead, “I don’t need you telling me to do anything, Sam.” 

“Clearly, I have to– given you’re in absolutely no fit state to make any sound fucking decisions,” he hisses at you, and his tone has a venom to it you've only heard him use a handful of times. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” you let out, and Joel can hear in your voice that you’re stung. 

“You really want to know what my problem is?” he seethes, before motioning towards Joel, “This. . . ! This is my problem! This ridiculous rebellion you have going on, that you’ve had since the day you left the academy, that makes you run around here like some kind of untouchable, twisted version of Robin Hood. . . it’s stupid, speedy, and sooner or later it’s going to get you killed.” 

“Hasn’t gotten me killed yet,” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, and Sam lets out a sound of exasperation. 

"I don't fucking care!" Sam lets out, his voice loud with anger and frustration, "You aren't listening–. . .  the Fireflies’ cause isn’t any more noble than FEDRA’s regime. . . they’re all the fucking same, they lie and they kill, and sooner or later, they'll turn on you and you'll end up like your fucking dad."

"What?"

Your tone is shocked, and Sam watches with a guilty turn of his stomach as your eyes widen in shock, and grief, glistening with the oncoming threat of tears. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Sam says your name, but you interrupt him as you get to your feet suddenly, the sound of the grating chair filling the otherwise silent room.

"Tell me," you say through gritted teeth, and Samuel purses his lips, jaw clenching in frustration with himself as he takes a second to answer you.

The room is so silent that even with his bad ear, Joel is sure he could hear a pin if it dropped.

"It wasn't some random bystander that snitched on your dad," Samuel admits finally, and Joel realizes with a horrible turn of his stomach what he's about to say, "It was the Fireflies. They weren't happy he stopped helping them, and so they tipped FEDRA off that he’d been letting them run operations through the shop."

Your vision is starting to narrow as you take a shallow breath, eyes boring into Samuel. "How do you know this?"

“It doesn’t matter–”

"No– Samuel, how do you know this?" you say, your gaze going back to the boy you'd known for 13 years, your eyes filled with the puzzle pieces you're struggling to put into place, "If we were ever friends. . . please tell me."

Samuel's eyes plead with yours as your brain works overtime, before he lets out a defeated breath, shaking his head. "Burke is my mom's name, I took it when I joined the academy because I was sure they wouldn’t let me in otherwise. . . my dad's name is Hartwin."

Even Joel recognizes the name; it had been whispered in the streets for the past few years as word spread of the Fireflies' revolution and victory in San Francisco, led by a hardened ex-marine called Jack Hartwin. His name had been spoken with a twisted kind of admiration, word of his liberal use of violence somehow less known.

"Sam," you let out, your voice trembling as you blink once, tears still refusing to spill down your cheeks as your face becomes a mask of realization, "Oh god.” 

“Speedy, please–”

He takes a small step in your direction, but you respond with a step back, your body almost flinching at that stupid nickname falling over his lips. It had been for a stupid reason, as well, a name he’d called you after you’d out-sprinted almost your entire class during a training exercise at the academy. You had let him, allowing the nickname to take hold until eventually he had started to use it more than your actual name. Now, the name sounds poisonous coming out of his mouth. 

“How long have you known?” you ask him, your voice is trembling with both rage and betrayal, “And don’t you fucking even think about lying to me.” 

Sam’s face becomes a mask of solemn guilt. 

“Since the beginning,” he admits sorrowfully, “I found out who you were a few days after you joined.” 

“You knew–” you say, your voice stalling in your throat as you hear your heartbeat thunder in your ears, “You knew all this time, and you never told me?”

“What would you have done with that information? We were sixteen, speedy,” Sam pleads.

“You were protecting him,” you accuse, your voice hoarse with pain and anger. 

"I was protecting you," Samuel shouts back, his eyes wide and pleading, "That's all I ever wanted to do, okay? My father would've destroyed you if you'd gone after him. . . you were my friend, the first and only one I’d ever had, and I couldn’t in good conscience say anything–"

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” you explode, and finally the tears flow freely over your cheeks, “This whole time, you lied to me. . . you looked me the face and you lied to me, for thirteen fucking years, I–”

Your voice stalls in your throat as you take a shaky breath, your trembling hand coming up onto your forehead, your chest tight and uncomfortable as you fight the overwhelming urge to hurl. 

“Speedy, please,” Sam says, and his voice is shaky, “I wasn’t protecting him. . . I want nothing to do with him. . . I was horrified when I found out what he’d done, I joined the academy out of spite because I wanted to get as far away from him as I possibly could.” 

“How fucking noble of you,” you spit, your tone venomous as you refuse to look at him.

Silence falls on the kitchen, not a word spoken by anyone, until eventually you let the breath out again, just as shaky as when it came in. Sam tries one more time, saying your name, your actual one. . . but you interrupt him before he can get any further. 

“Get out,” you say, and this time, your voice is firm and furious. His eyes widen with surprise and hurt for a second, before his brow creases slightly. 

“What?” he utters, his voice filled with pain, his eyes even flitting helplessly to Joel for a second, who is still standing in the corner as quietly as he can, wishing he had the superpower to turn invisible right now.

“You heard me, get out,” you repeat, and you’re still not looking at him, fingers pressed against your mouth lightly as your eyes look down at your feet. 

His expression becomes almost pleading. “Speedy–” 

“Samuel,” you return, your eyes, alight with fury, finally meeting his. 

You say it like a warning, and Sam presses his lips together as he watches your expression. 

“Get out of my house before I do something I regret,” you seethe, and Joel watches your fists clench at your side. He feels his shoulders tense slightly, readying to move just in case your common sense fails you and he has to actually pull you off the soldier standing in your living room holding an assault rifle. When Sam says nothing, you repeat yourself, your voice raising. “I said get out, Sam, fucking get out, before I–”

“What?” Sam interrupts you anyway, shaking his head “Before you kill me. . . ?”

He doesn’t say it with scorn nor anger, tone maybe a little disbelieving but open and vulnerable nonetheless. 

When you say nothing, he takes a breath. “You would do that to me, Speedy?” 

Joel knows it’s going to happen before it does, watches as your fingers curl around the glass of water on the table, hears the sound of it shattering as you knock it over. It doesn’t hit anyone, but Sam jumps slightly at the sound, but to his credit, his gun remains unfired. 

“Don’t fucking call me that! Don’t you ever fucking call me that again,” you shout at him, “Get out of my face. . . I don’t ever want to see you again.” 

“You don’t mean that,” Sam says, and Joel notes that he actually sounds genuinely upset.  

“With all my heart I fucking mean that, Samuel,” you say, your voice barely controlled as your eyes shine with tears of anger, “I mean it. . . I don’t want to see your face, I don’t want to hear your name. . .I curse the fucking day you ever even spoke to me, if you’d just minded your own damn business you’d have saved us both the fucking trouble.”

Sam is completely silent as he processes your words, the only sounds in the room that of your breathing. 

“Get.out.”  

Sam heaves a defeated sigh, his own eyes shining with threatening tears. He doesn’t seem to care one bit that Joel is witnessing this, his eyes focused only on you as his eyes plead with yours. 

Finally, he turns on his heel and walks to the door, before pulling it open. He pauses there, before turning his head slightly over his shoulder, but without looking at you. 

“For what it’s worth,” he says, before swallowing harshly, “I only did it because I love you. . . you’re my family, not him.” 

Every word he says feels like a gut punch, and you show him your back as you try and take a deep breath, feeling your face contort as you’re overtaken with the sudden urge to cry. 

The door clicks shut quietly behind him. 

You take a deep breath, clearing your throat and looking at the ceiling for a second, before walking towards the door that leads to what he assumes is your bedroom, passing by Joel standing in the corner in silence. Your face is a mask of so many emotions Joel can hardly keep count; hurt, betrayal, rage, and he can see the tears pooling in your eyes and down your cheeks, but you don’t meet his gaze. He says your name, but you ignore him as you pass him by, only saying in a hoarse voice: 

“Please do me a favor and show yourself out.” 

Joel barely has time to nod wordlessly before your door slams shut with an almighty bang.

END OF SIDE A

a/n: ya'll i PROMISE it gets more exciting/more spicyyy. i just needed to establish this so i could flesh out the reader/joel dynamic and the basis for their relationship. please please bear with me, i have a plan heheheh. as usual, please let me know what you thought of this chapter and the story as a whole, i love hearing your input/feedback :)

taglist:

apart from those of you who explicitly asked to be added, i also took the liberty of tagging some of you that showed interest in more parts (if you do not want to be tagged, please please let me know, in which case i apologize in advance for doing so!)

@tanushreeg27 @user1112223334449890171 @frecklefacelm @samarav @alyssiamarierenee @platinumblondeedition @huntersandpie @lizlil @lumpypoll @pedro-pascal-3nthusiast @phryne-fish @ponyboys-sunsets

as usual, replies, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

[plantinghobbies]

Three: No Mirrors for Monsters

Guyyyyys, where has 7 months gone!?! Ok well I’m back at it and already writing chapter 5 and feel like I finally know where this little imagination thread is going with Matty and Tess. Thanks as always to @sycophanticsolipsism for being a champion through all of my 800 drafts of this thing and being the best beta, friend and muse. And to you for reading and letting me know what you think!

Growing Pains Masterlist

The walks had begun out of necessity, something to break up the monotonous hours between waking up and going to the bar most nights to help out. (It had actually been her therapist’s idea - “you time,” Janice had coined with a smirk, already familiar with the eye roll she’d be on the receiving end of. “Not everything has to have a purpose Tess, sometimes it’s good to just be.) B(e) - as in boredom. Which is exactly what she’d been drowning in since she moved a few months ago. Walking was boring but at least it had a - she hates how months working with Janice has made purpose feel like a four-letter word - point. 

She hadn’t felt this way in fifteen years, that itchy feeling like an electric current in her limbs, making it feel physically impossible to sit still (a doctor once told her that it was ADHD, that she could get tested, but Tess caught a big case and by the time she surfaced back in New York after the deal went through, the woman had moved her practice upstate). 

When Tess was twelve, she’d bribed Darby Scantlon’s idiot brother to let her ride along with him to UNC Asheville twice a week to sit in on his classes. It had taken months of saving up her babysitting money to cover the extortionist fee he “required” for gas (read: beer money) as well as the fake ID from the stoners he tipped her off to who hung out behind the local high school. But she was determined, bored out of her skull in her classroom and starry-eyed at the UNC pamphlet she’d picked up promising her challenging experiences with cutting-edge learning. She’d told her teachers she was missing class to go to therapy, told her mom she had joined an aeronautics club after school and told Darby she’d never speak to her again if she uttered a word. It took almost two months before she was found out, when her mother ran into Principal Stewart at the grocery store and remarked how much Tess was enjoying learning about space. All hell broke loose after that - nobody in the town soon forgot when her mother charged into the movie theater Mrs. Scantlon worked at hollering about her son kidnapping Tess. Darby didn’t talk to her for a month.

But it was worth it. Because when the professor of the class she’d been squatting in found out that his best student (based on grades, the professor had 212 students and had never actually met Tess) was actually a twelve year old, he’d called Tess’s parents and convinced them to let her stay in the class and take more (when he called the first time, it was 6:30 and her mother had scolded him for interrupting dinner and hung up. Thankfully, he waited an hour and called back). The turning point in her life and she couldn’t even remember the teacher’s name, her young mind discarding it long ago. 

What she could remember was everything else about that night, from the congealed Mac and cheese she was pushing around her plate and the humming melody of cicadas that drifted in with the breeze through the kitchen window. The shrill ring of the phone had surprised them all and her mother clutched her hand to her chest as she went to answer it (even years after the cordless phone became cheap and commonplace, her parents held on to the corded wall unit. So I can monitor your brothers, her mother had said). Her ears had perked up at the mention of her professor’s name, then her whole body had deflated at the quick trill of the phone as her mother dropped the receiver back down. When her dad had asked why the professor was bothering to call back (“I thought we were done with all that talk of extra schoolin?”), her mom had shrugged and slid the cloth napkin back into her lap with a breezy “Well, no harm in hearing what he has to say.” 

Fifteen years later, Tess wonders if that was actually true. 

“Sooo, do you live around here?” Oh shit, she’d forgotten about him. The guy from the lawn that she’d been playing some weird game of chicken with for the last several days. Tess feels awkward suddenly, like when you flirt with someone across a crowded bar, just some harmless fun while you wait for your drink, and then he makes a beeline right toward you. She enjoyed chasing after something but didn’t really know what to do when she caught it. 

“Uhm” The leash pinches her fingers as she hauls Dale back from lunging at a squirrel. She hisses, switching her grip and shaking them out under his watchful eye. “I’m staying a few blocks over.”

“Staying?” He’s cute, scrunching his nose up as if he literally smells something fishy. “Huh. I thought for sure you were a local. I thought you seemed a bit familiar at the bar.”

“Well, technically I am. I’m from about an hour from here.” They’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk, Dale’s nose pressed firmly to the backside of another dog, sniffing in greeting. For a moment, Tess is reminded of how often that nose is nuzzled against her own face, then thinks better of it. “But I’m in town for a little while.”

“Me too. Well, the here for a bit part of what you said at least.” They continue their walk, Tess charting a path from memory and this man seemingly content to follow alongside her. She can see his curious side-eye. He’s clearly a talker. “Umm, what brings you back?”

Tess doesn’t take her eyes off the pavement in front of her. She’s not sure what to say. (It’s nice meeting someone who doesn’t already know - seems like everyone else does.) How much time do you have random stranger?! Where would she even start? ‘Ok, so my Mom’ - Nope, not going there. ‘And my Dad’ - yea, way too soon. ‘Well, I’m 28 and I’ve got no idea what the fuck I’m doing’. Not something she’s going to divulge to a handsome stranger. She settles for something close to the truth. “Family stuff.”

That’s about all she wants to say on the topic so she changes it. “What about you? Your accent sort of gives away the not being from here so…”

“Me?” Tattoos peak out on both arms as he flexes around a subtle stretch. The devil’s brand, her grandmother used to call tats but Tess has always found them oddly enticing. That someone could feel so sure about something that they wanted it forever. Tess has never felt that way about anything. 

“Yea, what brings you to Asheville?” 

“Oh, um….work.” It’s a boring answer which probably means it’s a boring job. She doesn’t ask more, unable to feign interest in asinine topics before she’s had at least two cups of coffee. And even then she’d only ever made it about ten minutes (and that was to close a $3 billion client).

The rest of their walk is done in relative silence, a feeling which Tess doesn’t mind but her companion seems to be less familiar with. There seems to be a million things on the tip of his tongue, his mouth opening frequently before he shakes his head and closes it. It’s not often that Tess finds herself attracted to someone and she’d like a little more time to analyze it, understand why his perfect curls draw her in when others don’t, why her fingers itch to trace his tattoos. Just as she’s wondering if she can snap a picture without him knowing, they’ve reached her house. There’s a split second when she considers whether she should keep walking on so he doesn’t know her address (healthy paranoia in her mind, a product of too much Dateline if you ask the rest of her family) but there’s something about him that makes her feel comfortable, familiar. (That’s just how people described Ted Bundy, you fool! A small voice in her head shrieks). 

Dale stops, already knowing they’re home, and Tess thumbs toward her house, signaling the end of their walk. Before she can wave goodbye, he asks if he can join again tomorrow. She pauses midway through her gate, turning and looking back at him, and recognizes the pacing, the drumming of his hands along her fence, the flickering of his eyes. His body - like hers - seemingly unable to inhabit one space, shifting foot to foot. Taking pity on him, she agrees.

“I’m Matty by the way.” He extends his hand, a large callous running along the side of his index finger. She likes the way his accent clips the t’s in his name. 

She shields her eyes with her left hand as she meets his right. “Tess.”

______________________________________________________________

When Jack said he and Margaret were finally making the move out of New York for somewhere quieter, Matty had figured they were going to New Jersey. He’d had a hard time picturing the Southern town Jack described - “it’s small but not small small you know?” He hadn’t, but now he thinks he gets it. Big enough you don’t have to leave for essentials, small enough that eventually everyone knows you.

Which Matty finds out in a rather mortifying way. 

He’s not sure why he’s been avoiding telling Tess about his… job - life? - fame? (Ugh he hates the sound of that) - about him. It’s not like he’s on a predator registry or wanted for some heinous crime. Or that he has the kind of fame that will bring a disruption to their daily routine. (Media interest - social or otherwise - has significantly died down since the band went on break, fans turning their sites to other interests feeding them with newer content. Matty tries to ignore the fear that creeps in at that thought, that people are losing interest in the band, in him). But he’s enjoying the anonymity, the ability to interact with her without wondering what she’s read about him on the internet. It’s been a long time since he’s interacted with someone as just Matty, and never as 35-year-old version of himself trying to claw his way into adulthood. 

For all his ego, he’d like to get some credit for the fact that it never crossed his mind that she already knew. It finally comes up after the older lady who runs the local coffee shop they’ve been frequenting says ‘bye Matty’ despite them never meeting. He’s a little surprised that the first person to recognize him is not a coed from the local university but a retiree, he thought he knew his demographic a little better. 

“So, I guess that was weird” he holds the door for Tess and she walks ahead, unleashing Dale from the tree he’s been resting under. “Ehm, I should probably tell you - well, it” he clears his throat, unsure suddenly how to talk about this without sounding like a self-involved dickhead “it….may happen, - like I don’t think that much but just -“

“Huh?” She’s looking at him sideways and honestly, that’s a fair response, he’s not making much sense. 

When she finally catches on to what he’s trying to say, she barks out a laugh so loud it startles the dog, who crouches into a fighting position in response. After she collects herself (“Wait, oh my god, do you think -“ Mrs. Markovitch?! A diehard fan?! Oh god, I might pee my pants”), she tells him to get over himself. “Everyone knows everyone around here. These people only watch Jeopardy, the Macy’s Day Parade, and sports. You aren’t famous enough to have penetrated their radar.” Well, he’d felt like a twat and she hadn’t let him live it down, taking the piss out of him every time someone called him by name from then on (“Oh they probably read your latest spread in Pitchfork down at the senior center”). He’d been happy to learn that she knew and didn’t care (“You kind of stick out, honestly. It wasn’t that hard to find you.”), that this mountain that he had built up between them had turned out to be a molehill. It had been a long time since he’d spent time with someone who wasn’t at all tied to his work in some way.  Or who could be counted on to cut his ego off at the knees. Outside of Jack, he hadn’t felt that intimacy with anyone since tour ended. It further intoxicated him - he’d always been a sucker for a woman who could put him in his place. He wouldn’t delude himself that he was immune to her other charms either - her wit, her laughter, her fucking beauty - he was a man after all. He thinks he can sense the same in her, a love of this cat and mouse game between them. They’ve begun to flirt a little more flagrantly - there’d been a moment the other day with a shared fork at breakfast that made him feel like a teenager again - but nothing that couldn’t be explained away between friends. Matty craved more - more jokes and references and intimacy to collect just between them. More ties to her. 

He doesn’t have to wait long for retaliation material, spotting Tess later that week while passing a fitness studio on a smoke break from the studio. Although, she’s kind of hard to miss, dancing around and flailing her arms. He can’t hear the music but can tell instantly that she’s off beat, struggling to keep rhythm with the others. Twirling, squatting, tripping over her feet. She’s a mess - and he can’t look away. But instead of embarrassment at her clear lack of coordination, his mind is flooded with images of dancing with her, trying to teach her. Them dancing in her kitchen, him guiding her hips as they sway, her grinding those hips against him as he leans down to brush his lips against hers. 

A car horn snaps him out of his daydream. He’s aware of what he must look like, can see the headlines now – Hard-Up Healy Turned Peeping Tom. But Matty lingers just a little longer than is polite, eyes darting around hoping to catch hers. Just as he resigns himself to snapping a stealthy pic to take the piss out of her with later, she spots him. A cheshire cat grin breaks out on his face as a look of horror passes over hers. The accompanying thumbs up is unnecessary - but he’s a little shit, what can he say. Tess levels him with a death glare that would have been truly breathtaking if it hadn’t been interrupted by her abrupt collision with the woman next to her, the poor victim grasping Tess’s shoulders to try to help her get back on tempo. He caught the “fuck off” she mouthed at him before he turned and strode away, cackling loudly. 

______________________________________________________________

“Oh my God, that song was proper awful.”

“Fuck off, it’s incredible! I lost my virginity to that song…”

The words are thrown over her shoulder as they navigate her front steps, moving slowly under the weight of their haul from the farmer’s market. Matty almost misses a step at this reveal.

“Oooh sexy, give me the deets” A laugh bubbles up unbidden at the valley girl affect in his voice.

Dale almost tips her over as she roots around in her pocket for her keys. Once inside, she dumps the bags on the kitchen counter, unpacking a random assortment of veggies. 

“No way, I’m not trading sex stories with a rockstar.” Matty grabs plates for their breakfast sandwiches as she settles on the couch, thumbing through the local paper to the crossword puzzle, pulling it out and handing him the rest. Reading up on the local drama had become a guilty pleasure of his.

She knew he wouldn’t drop it, he was like a dog with a bone and no sense of boundaries - his drug addiction, his band, his family, and now his sex life all openly discussed. She had lifelong friends she knew less about than him. And listen, she wasn’t a prude, talking about sex didn’t bother her - except talking about her first time meant talking about school and that meant talking about -

“Claire Murphy when we were fourteen in her parents’ basement. Decidedly not-rockstar. Now spill.” 

She didn’t need to know who Matty was when she first met him to know he was “somebody”. He had an air about him, like he’d never met a room he wasn’t comfortable in. Tess knew the type - cocky, attention-seeking, monied. No thank you, she assumed. It’s why she’d bailed out at the bar, dodged him after. She had been glad to be wrong, glad to find out that while he was all the above, it was oddly endearing instead of asshole-ish. But comparison was a thief that visited her often. It was bad enough when she was comparing herself to her coworker’s dogwalker – it’s why she’d gotten off social media. But juxtaposing her life with a fucking rich rockstar?! She didn’t need that kind of ammo.

And yet, it seemed unavoidable right now. “OK, nevermind, I’ll just ask your brother at the bar tonight.” Fuck it, if he’s going to find out anyway, might as well be from her. Her friends don’t understand why it’s such a big deal for her to tell new people (“Tess, you’re a genius not an axe murderer”) but she prefers when people don’t know. Before the deluge of questions - ‘wait, what’s your IQ? Could you even live in the dorms at 15? Did you get fucking laid in law school being that young?’ That last one had only been asked once and Ben had almost ended up in the city jail for decking the guy. All these questions asked by people who were either surprised that she - Tess, really? - was that smart or were just interested in the salacious goings on of a 15-year-old on a college campus (gross). When that subsides, when she’s answered all the questions and reviewed the timeline of her life over and over, they still look at her different. New friends feel inferior, prospective boyfriends feel threatened. It’d been more of a problem in the isolation of New York, here she had her family and old friends and hadn’t bothered to try to make any new ones. 

Tess plays with the remains of her breakfast sandwich to distract from the uncertainty of how to spill her mess out in front of him. “Fourteen too, my high school’s football field, freshman year of college.” 

Cue the confused look, this scene playing out exactly the way that every other had - Tess playing herself, Matty now cast in the role of the potential love interest (she was far from immune from his charms). “Wait, I thought the American system was…”

Time for Tess’s monologue, the scary uncertain times of her life now scripted down to a tight thirty seconds - college classes at twelve led to an accelerated learning program (the first of it’s kind at her school), finished high school at fourteen, Harvard grad at seventeen (“Yes that Harvard, Matty, please just let me get this out”), law school til 21, firm job until left at 27, ending up right back where she started, helping her brother run his bar while she figures out what’s next. 

There were a few things she’d left out, she needed it to sound cleaner, more deliberate, than it actually was. To stick the landing when in reality it felt like she’d stumbled right off the mat. Because as much as she wished she was a woman who could own her mistakes in the face of someone she was interested in - ok, she fucking really likes him - she’s just not that enlightened yet. She’s still the chicken-shit scared girl who lost her virginity to the first boy who treated her even halfway normal on her first trip home from Boston for semester break. 

Matty’s eyes track her, Tess can feel the weight of them, but she can’t bring hers to meet his. It feels like what he says next could make or break her happiness right now, frail as it is. He’s a bright spot for her, whether she admits it or not. Pathetic. 

The smack of his hands on his knees startles her but it’s a familiar sound. She’s seen this film before - he’ll pat his knees and talk about how impressive she is, how lucky anyone would be to know her, but he just remembered he’s got somewhere to be and -  “Well, THAT explains a lot.” 

His exaggerated voice is entirely for her benefit, that much is obvious. What isn’t is where he’s going with this. “Huh?” For all her IQ, that’s the most she can muster.

“Why you make such a shit drink. I knew it was nepotism but I figured if you’d been a lifelong bartender you at least would have….”

“Oh shut the fuck up” she grabs a pillow and smashes it against his head, a little giddy with the way this was not going as she expected. 

He catches the pillow and pins it between them on the couch, along with her hands momentarily, and then his arms pulled back as if he’d been stung. She picks up her plate again to channel the energy that’s suddenly coursing through her. 

He’s eyeing the leftovers now as she pinches the bread crust between her fingers. She offers it for him to take, still can’t figure out what the fuck to say or where to go from here. He shovels it into his mouth, licking his fingers with a muffled thank you. A smear of aioli lines the corner of his lip, taunting her. Every salacious thought she’d had about him over the last few weeks dripped into her brain all at once. Which is the only explanation she has for what she does next. With a steadiness she certainly didn’t feel, she reaches up, dragging the pad of her finger across his Cupid’s bow before popping it in her own mouth, licking off the remnants of sauce. 

Matty’s sharp inhale brings her back to herself. Good going Tess. He’d stuck around through the weird college stories just for you to run him off by being a complete creep. But there’s no mistaking the look on his face. If he hightails it in the other direction now, she’ll at least be comforted that while he may think she is a total creep, she’s a total creep that he’s at least somewhat attracted to. Their gazes remain locked for what feels like forever - her trembling hand suspended in the air, his eyes flitting across her face as if he can’t pick one thing to focus on. Is it her imagination or is he leaning toward her? Oh god! 

Dale’s bark at a distant siren jolts her from her thoughts. They break eye contact, and she feels a pang of disappointment at the lost opportunity. So close. He clears his throat. “Well, in terms of interesting childhoods, I still think I have you beat.” She laughs harder than the joke warrants, grateful to him for steering them through the visceral tension in the room.” I’m serious! Let me show you!”

Her laugh rings off the kitchen walls as he reaches for his phone, already pulling up Google. 

______________________________________________________________

Matty has to fly to New York to meet with a session musician that Jack loves, their baby due any day and them unable to travel. The night he gets back, she texts him that she’s TBD for the morning walk. Apparently, Dale is vomiting all over the place and she can’t leave him. The disappointment is palpable, he’d been looking forward to seeing her more than he’d realized. Rumpled from jet lag and hours of flying, he crawls into bed and catches up on sleep and tv. 

When he doesn’t hear from her at sunrise, his curiosity is peaked. He’d probably call it borderline worried if that didn’t sound so loaded, serious. They’d texted a few times while he was gone, inane messages of adult life - she took in his mail, he had a package, she threatened to post the contents on Instagram if he didn’t bring her back Magnolia bread pudding. But they weren’t quite at call each other - hell, it seems these days (he knows how he sounds) that the bar for ringing someone was strictly reserved for emergencies and your mum. But worry overwhelms his awkwardness. The low din of background noise is his first clue that something isn’t right, that she’s not home. Her voice is frazzled as she tells him she and Dale are at the emergency vet. Apparently, Dale had gotten worse, he’d been having trouble staying upright.

“I panicked” she admits, though it sounds to him like it was the right call. 

She says she’s fine and that she’ll keep him posted. He spends about a half an hour putting about the house - debating if it would be weird to show up there. He thinks about Dale - such a sweet thing, so eager and trusting of everyone and everything he encountered. He thinks of her, how much he knows she loves that dog, how attached they are, how she seems unwilling to bother anyone in her life until she absolutely needs to. It’s that image, of her alone, that has him grabbing his keys. If he’s not going to be able to focus on anything else, might as well go where his mind is already, patience never his strong suit.

She seems unsure of what to do with him when he appears in the waiting room, and Matty wonders if he shouldn’t have come. When he’d walked through the door with coffee, he didn’t miss the way her eyebrows shot to her hairline. It had clearly caught her off guard. For a moment he has a horrifying thought - well, a series of them that all flow from a fear that he’s misread everything up to now, the flirting, the intimacy, the well everything. That she’s not  alone here as he assumed, that any second shes going to introduce him to her hot boyfriend, some doctor or contractor or someone equally capable, a quality that Matty is deeply aware he’s never been called a day in his life. And they are both going to stare at him, wondering what it is that he - scattered, untrained, ordinary Matty - thought he could do in this crisis situation. But  nobody appears and she gestures to the empty space next to her. 

Sliding a chair over to sit next to her, he finds himself at a loss for what to say. The muscles in her arms are tense as she grips the sides of the chair she’s sitting on, leg bouncing, eyes darting to the doors leading to the back area every time it opens. Anxiety is rolling off of her in waves so strong he swears he can feel them, he’s unsure how to be around her right now.  Is she someone who appreciates a laugh when she’s stressed? Would she snap at him if he said something trite.

In the end, its his curiosity that gets the best of him. “Do they know what’s wrong?”

“Umm” Her voice is hoarse with misuse and suppressed emotion when she goes to speak, clears her throat, and tries again. “They are pretty sure he ate something but they don’t know-.”

“Like what…” he begins but her sharp look cuts him off. 

“I don’t know what! Clearly if I did, we wouldn’t be in this situation, ok?” Even though he knows the rebuke is empty, driven by fear and misunderstanding, his hackles still go up at the sharpness in her tone. He was just asking. 

Silence stretches between them, punctuated by a sigh as she turns his way. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just exhausted. He and I were out yesterday at my Dad’s so maybe… but I don’t know - I’m so careful…” 

Her words trail off as she goes back to staring at the door, as if willing Dale to come through it. Matty can’t do anything for her and he doesn’t like feeling useless, unproductive. The urge to flee is strong, this was a mistake. He resolves to stay a few minutes longer, so that she doesn’t think that he’s leaving because she was short with him. 

Just as he’s about to get up and make his exit, with some lame excuse about studio time, a young woman in a white coat appears and calls Tess’s name. A soft, trembling hand - the first time he’s held it, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind for later - grasps his as the vet makes her way over. Finally, something to do, however small. 

The vet’s face doesn’t give anything away and in the short time before she gets to them, it dawns on Matty that the news may not be good. When he’d decided to come here, he was picturing her throwing herself at him out of relief and gratitude that he was there and with an update that Dale was already better. Selfish – the word ricochets across his mind. He hadn’t really stopped to ponder that it could be bad news. Or the worst. Should he really be the person there when she found out her dog died?! Did they have that kind of relationship? 

Before he can overthink it – well, overthink it any more than he already has – the vet is in front of them. “Here for Dale?” Dr. Sheldon, according to her badge, smiles and Tess’s grip relaxes just a little bit. So does his own. Surely, a smile is a good sign.

“Well, umm, he clearly ingested something but he’s stable” Matty squeezes Tess’s hand, cautiously optimistic. “He’s a fighter. And a real charmer, got the ladies eating right out of his paw.”

Matty has to physically hold back an eye roll. Is this really the time for jokes?

“We’re going to keep him overnight for observation but if things continue to improve, he should be able to go home tomorrow.” At those words, Tess sags against him in relief, as if the anxiety had been keeping her upright. Caught off guard, Matty’s fingers slip over her waste, pulling her to him to steady her. Smiling and accepting her impromptu hug of gratitude, the doctor mentions that someone will be out with some paperwork before turning to leave. 

Sagging back into their chairs, Matty notices a single tear rolling down her face. On instinct, he brings his hand up to her cheek, just barely grazing it as he catches the tear with his index finger and swipes it away. Their knees brush as she shifts in front of him and her gaze locks with his for a split second before she’s glancing away toward the front desk.

“Thanks for being here” she says finally, her green eyes - so unlike his own - glistening back at him. Not for the first time he’s struck by how beautiful she is - Jesus Healy not the time! And definitely not the place. While the couple of days in New York definitely clarified his interest in her - strong enough that he’d ignored a booty call from a regular hookup while there - but he still felt conflicted about fucking up his only friendship in town. (Don’t shit where you eat the sound engineer at the studio had said the other day and while a vile image, it was effective). The album had been moving at a weird place and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be here - could be weeks, could be months.

“Don’t mention it.” A sudden feeling of foolishness washes over him, embarrassment that he made such a big deal out of this by coming down here when Dale is going to be just fine. This feels like he’s put his heart on his sleeve in a way he didn’t intend to. Not even her friends came, and here he is rushing down to her like he’s got a claim to. 

But then he’s driving her home (“my hands are too shaky”) and heating up soup and sitting on the floor in front of the couch watching a movie because the house had seemed too quiet to her. 

And then just as she’s losing the battle with sleep, cocooned in Dale’s favorite blanket, she whispers “I’m glad you were there today…” 

It’s a sucker punch, all the air pushed from his chest and replaced with a flush of warmth that spreads to the tips of his fingers, his toes, into his goddamn hair follicles. Fuck. 

“Me too…” 

[jaynovz]

Moodboard for The Worst Ending AU aka hand in unlovable hand

Fic Playlist

[image id: a collage of photos and stills from Black Sails. it includes Madi turned away from the viewer in anger, stacks of letters and books, close-ups of Silver and Flint's smiling mouths, a close-up of Flint’s hands, Flint in a white shirt looking out over a foggy vista with his back to the viewer, Silver on Skeleton Island holding his pistol, text from Wuthering Heights that says "Be with me always — take any form — drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!" and an open grave. 

the collage transitions from having more red-toned images at the top and green-toned images at the bottom. /end id]

--

“I did not kill Captain Flint. I unmade him. Captain Flint was born out of great tragedy. I found a way to reach into the past… and undo it.”

[trans-elrond]

finally, answers for the Elvish in Alloyed

[image id: screenshots from the Parf Edhellen elvish dictionary forums. User HurricaneBrisa [she/her] says, "Hello everyone, i was watching the rings of power's episode 8, and i was wondering what is Elrond telling Galadriel when he says 'Á cuith tess ë, Galadriel." Can someone help me understand? I tried translating every single word but I can't make sense of 'tess' meaning 'fine pierced hole' in this context, so I suppose I'm wrong... Thanks in advance."

user Andrejs Zacarinnijs replies: "Hello! It seems to me that creators are using some of the early linguistic material in this one: in his Gnomish language and in early period of development of Quenya Tolkien fixates such words as tess(il) and tessa, both understood as 'maiden.' So the phrase seems to say 'A maiden with a lively body you are, Galadriel.' May be wrong in some of the semantics of the phrase as a whole, and it still eludes me why they used word from such an early lexicon, and not some well-attested late equivalent."

user Röandil: "This was almost certainly a mistake on the part of the subtitling team—he's saying the same á quildesse (be at peace) that Elendil said to Galadriel in an earlier episode. end id]

[itsallyscorner]

Bring Me Back

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Filming “Cherry” had its ups and downs for Tom. When filming finally takes its toll on him, you’re there to instantly bring him back from the world of Cherry.

Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, PTSD, murder. A smidge of smut.

A/n: In honor of the Cherry🍒 trailer dropping, I decided to write this!

(GIF creds: @atealiers )

Any kind of project was a blessing to Tom. He loved being an actor. He was fond of telling stories through the big screen and got a kick from portraying many different characters. Acting was something he felt passionate about, it was his craft and he was very dedicated when it came to becoming his roles. Cherry was quite different from the other movies he’s been in. It was dark and contained many subjects like drug addiction, PTSD, and crime. The world of Cherry was something Tom was not used to; it was twisted. He hasn’t been exposed to things like drugs or the events that Nico Walker had been through. Which was why he was hesitant to take on the role of Cherry.

When the Russo Brothers approached him with the idea, he was excited. He was getting the opportunity to tell another story and would explore the world of a new character. Though the more he looked into it, he realized that maybe he wasn’t up for the role. Was he really ready to dive into the dark and traumatizing life of Nico Walker? As an actor, he was willing to take the job, it would give him an opportunity to expand his career and would possibly be one of his best work. As Tom, he wasn’t sure if he could handle learning or re-enacting the events that occurred in Cherry. But Tom did like a challenge, which was why he ended up agreeing to become Cherry.

He prepared himself mentally and physically pre- production. For research, he interviewed army veterans and former drug addicts to get an idea of what it was like to be in those positions. To get the look of Cherry, he did a variety of things. For example, going on a diet and losing weight, then gaining said weight again once they had to shoot the army scenes. Another thing he did was shave off the gorgeous brown curls that adorned his head. At first you weren’t too happy with his change in hairstyle, but later on you found yourself running your hands along the short strands of hair, loving the fuzzy feeling it gave your palms.

After the interviews and hearing others’ experience, Tom felt a level of responsibility to tell the story of millions of people around the world. Not only was it telling the story of Nico, but of other army veterans who suffered from PTSD and people who’ve had drug addictions. He was fully on board now and there was no looking back. He was going to push himself to the limit and to places he’s never been before.

Filming was tough. There were scenes he had to do that were so unlike him, that felt wrong, and sometimes he just had to take a step back. They didn’t feel right, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. This was his job, if he wanted this movie to be the best that it can, he was going to commit. Thankfully, he was working with the Russos, who he’s known for a while now. He was familiar with the two and they were patient with him, giving him the time to regain himself before shooting an intense scene. The cast and crew were very understanding as well, creating a safe space for him on set. Having Harry along with him helped as well, the familiarity of his brother kept him grounded and avoided him from falling into the void of Cherry. Though he had all these supportive people around him, there was only one person who could calm him down when things got suffocating on set. The only person he wanted to be in Cleveland with him but wasn’t. You. Since you had your own life and job, you were unable to fly out to Cleveland with him. Instead you stayed at your shared home with Tessa as company. All he needed was you when he felt the affects of Cherry caging in on him. Just the sound of your comforting voice over the phone could clear his head and make him breath again.

He had his bad days on set, where he would have to take a moment and hide in his trailer for a few minutes. During those few minutes he liked to be alone as he waited for you to answer your phone. The line would ring, it’d stop, then the sound of your sweet voice would be the only thing he’d hear. Sometimes you didn’t answer the first time, but nonetheless you answered eventually. It wasn’t the same as having you with him in person, you had your responsibilities, and he understood that. He just wished that one day you’d come to Cleveland. He wanted to be in your arms, stuff his face into your neck, breath in your familiar scent, he just wanted to feel you. You were his home. His safe haven. And it was all he wanted right now.

•

Glancing at your phone, you wondered why Tom hasn’t texted you yet. Not that you were itching for him to text you, but because around this time he would be blowing up your phone telling you things that happened during filming or how his day was going. You decided that filming probably went into overtime making him busy during his break. You shrug to yourself and continue working on your laptop.

You hear the sound of Tessa’s nails clicking against the floors as she enters the office of your home. You greet her with a smile as she settles herself beside your legs.

“Is it dinner time already, Tess?” You scratch her head as you glance at the time on your screen. It was currently nine at night, a bit late for dinner, but you haven’t noticed.

“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll get us dinner. How does that sound, love?” A somewhat sound of approval emits from Tessa. You get back to work, fingers typing away as you finish off the last of your work.

You finish in four minutes, finally satisfied with your work. You let out a content sigh and turn your laptop off. When you get up you stretch and let your bones crack after being in the same position for hours. Tessa joins you, stretching out her front paws then shaking her body out. You chuckle as you lead the way to the kitchen. Taking the scoop for Tessa’s kibble, you fill her bowl up, causing the dog to look up in curiosity. Once you placed the bowl down, her tail wagged wildly as she stuffed her face into her food.

You decided on going for something simple, ramen noodles. You were too tired too cook anything and ramen noodles were the quickest thing to cook in your pantry. While you waited for the noodles to heat up you checked your phone. You went through your notifications, but there were still no texts from Tom. Though you were concerned, you assumed that they had a long shooting day, making him too busy to text. 

Hi love! I hope you’re doing well in Cleveland. I know you’re probably busy, but hopefully filming isn’t tiring you out too much. Have an amazing day! Don’t forget to drink some water from time to time and eat :) Tess and I miss you and love you so much! Talk soon xxx

You send the text with a smile. He won’t read it till he was free or done with filming, but you knew he’d see the message while you were asleep.

The microwave beeps, letting you know that your food was done. You end your night catching up on episodes of New Girl and eating soup. When you were done you did your nightly routine and settled in bed. You turn the lights off and snuggled under the warm sheets.

“Night Tessa.” You whisper to her. A huff comes out of her as she makes herself comfortable on the foot of your bed. When the both of you were settled, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Buzz

Buzz

The harsh vibrations of your phone shook you awake. Desperate for sleep, you blindly grab your phone and turn it off. Silence fills the room again as you turn around to stuff your face into Tom’s pillow. You were slowly drifting back to sleep when your phone began to vibrate again. With a groan you stretch back and snatch for phone off the night stand. You don’t bother looking at the caller id.

“Hello?” Your voice rasps out.

“Thank God you answered.” The person on the other line said. “I know you’re busy, but how soon can you visit Cleveland?” The deep voice was belonged to Harry.

“Uh—I’m not too sure, I’ll need to check in with my boss.” You reply. When you start feeling more awake you become curious as to why Harry can be calling you. “Why? Is everything ok? How’s Tom? I haven’t heard from him all day.”

The younger Holland sighs. He takes a moment to answer your questions making you suffer in silence, wondering what could have happened to your boyfriend. “Um, they’ve been shooting some intense scenes lately. Tom’s been trying his best but everyone’s noticed that he’s been a bit different.”

You sit up in bed feeling more awake. “What do you mean by different, Haz?”

“Well he’s snapped at the Russos quite a few times. There was this one scene, that they shot multiple times, and Tom would just break down after every one. (Y/n), I’m concerned for my brother, I don’t know what else to do. He’s locked himself in his room after every shoot. A—and I don’t know. I’ve tried to tell him that he can talk to me but he wouldn’t.” Harry explained, his voice croaked. You heart felt heavy for him. Harry was always there for his older brother, so to see him feel so helpless made you feel sorry.

“Haz, calm down, you know how your brother can get. How long has this been happening?”

Harry sniffed over the phone, “About a few weeks now. It’s only started becoming worse last week and now.”

The concern you felt for Tom grew. From what he’s been texting you, filming had been going great. He appeared happy on your FaceTime calls and sounded like his usual self. But maybe he actually wasn’t.

“Harry everything’s gonna be fine, alright?” You assure him. “I’ll call my boss first thing in the morning and when I get the ‘ok’ to leave I’ll get the first flight out to Cleveland. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds good. Can you tell me if you can make it? I’ll have someone come with me to pick you up at the airport.” His voice is quiet, almost muffled.

“Yeah I will, don’t worry.”

“Ok, thank you (y/n).” A small smile forms on your lips. You rub the sleep out your eyes as you glance at your closet. “Alright Haz, I’m gonna go now. But if there’s anything else, just text me or call.”

“I know, stay safe (y/n).” You bid him goodbye and place your phone on the empty space beside your side of the bed. Tom’s side of the bed. You bite your lip in thought as you worry about your boyfriend. You knew he was doing almost everything he can to make sure the movie came out perfect. If that meant shredding himself emotionally and physically, he was going to do it. Tom was dedicated to his work, but he’s never done anything close to Cherry, making you worried about the thoughts that could possibly be going through your lover’s head.

Tessa, who’s now woken up, waddles closer to you, sensing your uneasiness. You appreciate the dog’s gesture and pull her into your side, resting your chin on her head. You were basically sleepless the whole night. Although you haven’t emailed your boss yet, you already had a suitcase packed of your clothes. Your passport and other important belongings were already in a bag, ready to leave London.

The morning had been hectic. You’ve managed to get two hours of sleep, waking up at six in the morning. Still in bed, you sent your boss an email about a family emergency and how you needed to be out of the country for at least a week. As if the gods above knew of your situation, your boss willingly let you go, no questions asked and gave you well wishes. With that out the way, you scowered the Internet for flights to Cleveland. Luck was on your side that morning because you’ve booked a flight that took off in the afternoon. With your bags packed, you drove to Nikki and Dom’s to drop off Tessa.

Now all checked in, you were at Heathrow Airport waiting to be called for your flight. You were sat at your gate, with an iced coffee and a croissant from Starbucks, texting Harry. The two of you were discussing the time you’d arrive and how he’d pick you up. When you were both in agreement, you two decided to catch up. He had been in Tom’s trailer eating his breakfast. An hour passes and you were being called to board the plane.

You settle in your seat, but your leg bounced in anticipation. After the things Harry told you, you just wanted to have your boyfriend in your arms. You knew everything was probably getting to his head, all you wanted to do was hold him and tell him that he was going to be ok. As the plane began to take off, your lack of sleep caught up on you. Throughout the whole flight, you slept soundly, the worries of Tom subsiding for the time being.

~🛬~

The plane lands in Cleveland safely. It was night when you arrived. With your bags, you looked around the airport for a familiar curly haired boy. Harry waves wildly at you before running and pulling you into a tight hug. You laugh wrapping your arms around the slender boy.

“How’s your day been, Haz?” You ruffle his hair as he rolls your suitcase to the parking lot. He shrugs, “The usual. Was on set with Tom, ran around and got things for him, nothing much happened honestly. But you’re here now, so this is the highlight of my night.”

The two of you approach a black car with a driver inside, Harry motions for him to unlock the trunk. He lifts your case in before the two of you get into the backseat.

“How was your flight?” Harry asks you. The car began to move, exiting the airport and entering the highway.

“I slept through all of it, I don’t remember a thing about the flight besides getting on and off it.” You chuckle, leaning your head back against the headrest.

Harry nudges your shoulder, “Thanks for coming out with such short notice.” You wave him off. “It’s no worries, anything for my boys.”

The car is quiet, the only sounds that could be heard is the car’s wheels against the pavement. You turn to Harry, “How was he today?”

“He was pretty good in the morning.” Harry started. “Then filming started and he would grow frustrated after a few scenes. His temper’s been short. He snapped at me during lunch, which is normal, but I just asked him if he wanted some water. He broke down after a certain scene today, I tried talking to him but he still wouldn’t open up about it.” Tom wasn’t too open about his feelings sometimes. He struggled to voice them at times making all his frustrations and feelings bottled up in his head.

Half an hour later and you guys arrive at Tom’s rented home in Atlanta. As soon as you opened the door, you felt the heavy atmosphere. It was somber and tense, the chilliness of the weather also felt inside the house. Harry gestures up the stairs, “Don’t worry, go see him. His room is the first door on the left.”

You quietly thank him and climb up the stairs. You find his door, taking a deep breath before knocking. You hear some shuffling behind the door, “Harry I’m fine! Leave me alone!” His voice was deep, a bit scratchy. You frown at the door.

“Tom?” The room falls quiet. Suddenly you hear fumbling and the sound of heavy footsteps behind the door. The door opens and you finally see him. He was dressed in a large shirt with sweatpants. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, eyes glassy, and chapped lips.

“(Y/n)? You’re here?” He asks you in disbelief. A tight lipped grin forms on your lips.

“Yeah, Har—“ You were going to explain how you got there but he immediately threw himself at you. His arms wrap tightly around your figure, his head dipped into your neck, pulling your closer into him. One of your arms go around his neck while the other rubs his back soothingly. A whimper bubbles out of him, his shoulders beginning to shake. You managed to shuffle the both of you back into his room, closing the door behind you.

“You’re ok.” You whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. His grip around you never falters. Though he was much taller than you, he seemed so small at the moment. His body drowned in the shirt he wore, making him look thinner. You feel tears soaking into your shirt, making your heart clench in pain. You rest your forehead against his shoulder, holding and whispering sweet nothings into his ear until he was ready to speak.

A few minutes pass until his removes his head from your neck. You frown at his tear stained face, his eyes and cheeks red from quietly sobbing into your shoulder. Your hands cup his face, wiping the trails of tears on his cheeks. Tom leans closer to your touch, his eyes shut while his lips kiss your palm.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably tired from the flight.” He apologizes but you shake your head. You lead him to his bed and sit against the headboard. Tom follows in suit, desperately trying to get closer to you. His arms wrap around your torso, his head rests on your chest, while your legs tangle themselves together.

“I’ve had plenty of sleep on the flight, how are you?” Your lips are against his short hair from holding him so close. You nails scratch softly at his hair, calming him down.

“I don’t know if I could finish it.” He quietly admits. He shakes his head at himself.

“Why’s that, Tom?” Your boyfriend takes a deep breath as he sits up, removing himself from your touch. He sits across from you with legs crossed as he holds his head in his hands.

“I—I, it’s too much. There’s so much fucked up things he’s done. And all the things he’s seen. I just—sometimes I feel like it’s me who’s committed all of those things. When we shoot the scenes in the war and when I had to do drugs and rob banks, I felt like I lost myself—“ He cries interrupting himself to take a breath in. Compared to your fingers that ran gently through his hair, his clawed at his head. His palms rub harshly at his face, turning his skin a bright tint of red. To see Tom in such pain made you sad. You hated seeing him like this.

You gently remove his hands from scratching at his face and hold them in his lap. He stares down at your hands, clinging onto them as if his life depended on it. “I get lost in the character sometimes and I have to pull myself out of it to bring me back. But it keeps on happening over and over again. Then the Russos kept telling me to reshoot the scene more like Cherry, and I lost it and yelled at them.” You feel his tears fall to your your hands, making tears well up in your own eyes. You shuffle closer to him and kiss his forehead before pulling him into you. You stay quiet, letting him get whatever he wanted to get out.

Tom’s face is against your shoulder again. He sniffs before continuing, “It’s like everyday I find something he and I have in common. Then I think that maybe I’m turning into him. I don’t want him to be part of me. (Y/n), I don’t want to be him, I don’t want to do the things he’s done.” He sobs into your shoulder. Your heart breaks at how broken he sounded. His shoulders shook again, his back burning up with tension. A few tears made it’s way down your cheeks as you pulled his face away from you.

“Look at me.” You urged him. His jaw clenched, still looking down at his lap. He shook his head in response. “Tom, please. Look at me.” Your voice cracks. He slowly tilts his head up, your eyes connecting. He didn’t have that twinkle in his eyes, it’s like they’ve lost the light in them. Instead they were dark, like there was no life behind them. There was a mix of sadness, confusion, and even fear in his eyes.

You sadly smiled at him, cupping his face with your hands. “You’re not going to be him. You never will. You’re Tom. You are nothing close to Nico or Cherry. You are the sweetest man I have known in the world, you wouldn’t even hurt a damn fly. You’re not him. I know you aren’t. You wouldn’t do the things he’s ever done even if you were forced to. I know you Tom, I assure you, you’re nothing like him.” Tom hiccups, gripping onto your wrists.

“When this is all over and you’re done filming, we can forget about him. We won’t even mention him.” You assure him, stroking his cheeks.

“What if—,” You cut him off.

“No, there’s no what if’s. You’re going to be fine Tom. You’re surrounded by people who love you and will make you realize that you’re nothing even near him. You are the kindest man ever, you love your family, you care about your fans, and your brothers. You’re busy always taking care of everyone else, I think it’s time you take care of yourself, love.” You tell him. A small smile is on your face but it falters, “You don’t have to go through this alone, Tom.”

Tom takes a shaky breath in. “You’ll be there right?” He asks like a child making sure his mother will be there when he wakes up. “You’ll be there with me to bring me back?”

Your thumb smooths the crinkle between his brows, “I always will. I promise.” He nods and pulls you into him. You climb onto his lap and settle on his legs. He stares up at you, one of his his hands supporting your back, the other pressed against your cheek. “Thank you. I missed you so much. I’m sorry for not texting, everything’s just been so taxing mentally and physically.”

“No, don’t worry I get it.” You turn your face to press a light kiss on his palm. For the first time since you’ve seen him, Tom managed to crack a smile on his lips. He moves some strands of hair away from your face before resting his large hand on the back of your head. “I love you. I love you so much, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Tom.” You whisper against his lips. He takes that as a sign to finally crash your lips together. After months being apart, the feeling of his lips against yours felt like coming home. The kiss was desperate, like it was the air you both breathed. Tom had been longing for your touch, he craved you every second of the day, whether it be sexually or just missing you. The kiss grew rough, your teeth clashing, tongues poking and gliding against each other.

Tom lays you down on the bed, hovering over you. His hands grab and stroke at your body, trying to pull off your clothes to get close to your skin. He suddenly pulls away from your lips. “I need you. Please, I need you.” He almost begs you. Panting, you nod and push him to lay on his back. “Ok, let me take care of you, Tommy.”

He yanks his shirt off, throwing it to the side. You do the same, leaning down to meet his lips again. You kiss your way along his jaw and down to his neck. When you find that certain spot, he lets out a throaty groan, head falling back against the pillows. You run your nails along his chiseled abs and slightly roll your hips against his growing length. Tom grunts, hands instantly connecting to your ass and gripping onto your cheeks. He helps you roll your hips more, deeper with more friction against you two.

“Mm, Tom. I missed you.” You moan against his neck. You bite down and soothe the spot with your tongue after.

Tom looks down at you, lifting his hips to meet your clothes pussy. “Fucking miss you so much. You have no idea how much I’ve been dreaming of being buried in you again.” You kiss your way down his chest, but Tom stops you. His hands grab onto your leggings and slide them off.

“N-no foreplay. I need to feel you.” He stutters out, mouth agape. You nod in agreement and take his sweatpants off along with his boxers. You spit in your hand, running your hand along his dick to give it some wetness. Tom helps you lift yourself over him and guides your hips down his erected cock. You let out a combination of a sigh and moan as your walls envelop and stretch around him. Tom slightly sits up against the headboard, your tightness wrapping around him. He lets out a cry of relief, your walls around him feeding his cravings. You use his shoulders as leverage to pull yourself up but Tom stops you.

“What’s wrong?” You eye him cautiously. Tom shakes his head, “Nothing’s wrong. I just—can we stay like this for a while? I just want to feel you, please?”

“Yeah, we can do that.” You send him a reassuring smile as you settle back down on him. His hands make themselves comfortable around your waist. You maneuver your arms under his and wrap them around his back. Tom smiles at you, rubbing your back and guiding you into his chest. Before you can nuzzle your face into his neck, he presses a kiss to your temple and lets his fingers get tangled in your hair.

With his eyes closed in bliss, he whispers, “Thank you for bringing me back. I love you.”

You kiss his collarbone basking in the feeling him being so close to you. “I’ll always be here. I love you too.”

[megurine-san-7u7]

From the ashes we will rise - Part 3

Stepping out of the portal and hearing it close behind her, Lena’s eyes were quick to recognize the place she was in.

She had forgotten why these coordinates were on the watch, but now, standing in the middle of the living room in the mansion, the memories were quick to come back.

.

Lex’s smile was manic, as if he had predicted her arrival all along, which he might as well had. He knew her well, but not well enough.

The surprise and incredulity in his eyes when the bullets hit his chest, made it clear her brother didn’t know her as he thought he did.

.

Her eyes zeroed on the family portrait hanging in the living room.

Lena remembered well that day. She was barely six, and wasn’t used to stand perfectly still for hours. Lillian reprimanded her every time she moved a little bit, and then Lex came to her rescue.

Looking at Lex’s arm draped around her tiny frame, a sad smile formed on her lips. What had gone wrong with them?

.

Her hands were shaking like the rest of her body, and an urge to throw up was starting to overwhelm her.

She had just killed Lex. She killed her brother.

Panic and anxiety started to consume her.

She couldn’t stand been there anymore.

With a foggy mind, she searched the auto destruction system of Lex’s lair.

The explosions started to go off in the mountain, and her legs couldn’t stop trembling when going through the portal.

.

Shaking her head to get rid of those memories, the Luthor tried to focus on her present.

There was no time to dwell on the past, she had just run away from Supergirl, and going back to Ireland was now discarded.

She needed another plan.

Damn the kryptonian for taking even her safe place away.

Walking around the mansion she grew up in, Lena reminisced her childhood at every corner she went.

Memories of her father in his study, and how he sometimes would explain his work to her, a smile forming on his lips when Lena understood everything.

Her mother with the cold and stern face, and the small smile that would form on her lips whenever Lena showed improvement in her etiquette classes.

And Lex…god did she have a lot of memories of her brother there.

When he wasn’t crazy or trying to kill Superman. When he would play with her, and show her his experiments. Always teaching her something new.

Her gaze blurred by the tears forming on her eyes.

The Luthors were far from being the perfect family, but it was still her family.

And Lena was just tired of losing everything.

Wiping away the tears from her eyes, determination settled on her features.

She was tired of crying.

She was tired of being hurt.

Always giving her all to others, never putting herself first.

It was enough of that.

It was time to think about her own happiness.

-x-

As a Luthor she had visited many countries in her life. Whether it was as a family trip, or a business trip.

But in either case, she hadn’t been allowed to explore the cities she visited.

Family’s trips were mostly PR moves, showing to the press the image of a perfect rich family. They were always on a schedule, every minute perfectly planned by Lillian.

Arrive at the hotel, get ready for breakfast, smile to the cameras, study in free times, get ready for the gala fundraiser they’d attend.

Always the same, always putting on a mask. A mask every Luthor learned to perfect.

And her business trips were just that, all business. As the owner of the most powerful company in America, her time was too precious, and so she couldn’t waste any minute in leisure vacations.

And now-

Now she was just a regular person. Although with a credit card full of money for a lifetime.

And so, Lena decided to travel around the world, to enjoy the things she didn’t before.

She was ready for it, ready to start over.

Italy was just the first destination.

-x-

Venice wasn’t what she was used to.

The cold was so much different from National City, the sky wasn’t as blue and the people didn’t pay her any mind. Not that she could fault them for that, Lena wasn’t wearing her usual attire after all.

She had stopped straightening her hair, and its dark curls cascaded over her shoulders. The expensive tailored suits were replaced by comfortable sweaters and jeans. The sharp stilettos Lena would wear every day were nowhere in sight, in their place were a pair of sneakers. And to top it all, there was a pair of rimmed glasses on her face.

A little cynical on her part to be using glasses. But she didn’t care.

No one would give her a second glace when she walked on the streets.

And even if someone did recognize her, Lena could easily deny the claim, having a fake ID with a new name on it.

Lena Luthor was gone, and in her place was Tess Mercer.

It was freeing.

No more danger her name had always carried, no more paparazzies following her around invading her privacy.

No more liars seeking something out of her.

And Lena welcomed the change with gusto. She didn’t want reminders of her past. No, those would only be painful.

No, she wouldn’t let herself be sad because of a liar. So many tears were already spilled in vain, and Lena refused to shed a single one anymore, not over someone who had hurt her that much.

-x-

There were many things to see in Venice. And taking her time to appreciate the sights, Lena spend a week there without even noticing.

It was the most relaxed she had ever been in her entire life.

The Luthor didn’t want to attract more attention than necessary, and so the hotel she was staying was a regular one.

It wasn’t the presidential suite, nor were there an expensive collection of drinks set in the room. But it was comfortable, and the service was good.

The best part was the food.

Currently she was having breakfast on the hotel’s dining area.

Lena was sipping her coffee from time to time, her eyes never leaving the book on her hand.

So focused on her reading, she didn’t notice a girl standing next to her table. Not until said girl cleared her throat nervously.

The Luthor lifted her gaze and settled it on the fidgeting girl. She had red hair, some freckles on her cheeks, and brown eyes. Her outfit was very simple, a worn green sweater, brown pants and a pair of dark boots. It was clear the clothes had seen better days.

Lena’s outfit on the contrary was although simple, very expensive.

She was wearing a red sweater, black jeans and a pair of polished boots, along with the rimmed glasses on her face.

All in all, she still oozed the regality composure Luthors’ were known for.

And only another billionaire would be able to recognize the finery of her clothes. For other people, they were just regular clothes.

She may have changed her style, but she wasn’t about to wear itchy clothes.

“Yes?”

Lena forgot to use the country’s language, but at her use of English, the girl seemed instantly relieved.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. But I was wondering if you didn’t mind sharing your table?” The girl asked with a hopeful voice.

Lena raised an eyebrow, and then looked around the place. It had gotten quite full in the few minutes she had arrived, and there was only other table with just one person sitting on it. But by the looks of him, Lena wouldn’t be surprise if he turned out to be a serial killer.

“Sure.” She said. And the girl made a little jump in joy.

“Thank you!”

What Lena didn’t expect was for the girl to move her hand and call over two other people.

A brunette petit woman with the biggest smile on her face. Clothes similar to that of her friend, and a tall blonde guy, who seemed to be very reserved.

Lena observed them settle on her table.

“Hi, thanks for letting us sit here!” The brunette said excitedly, clearly relieved at not having to seat next to murderous guy on the far table.

“Don’t mention it.” The Luthor replied while taking a sip of her coffee.

“I’m Darla, this is Mary and Theo.” The brunette girl was quick to add, looking at Lena expectantly.

“Tess.”

Lena wasn’t one to talk easily with strangers, but Darla seemed to be one of those people who were capable of befriending a rock.

And the Luthor couldn’t help the small relived sigh leaving her lips when the waitress came to take the group of friends’ orders.

It was enough of a distraction, and soon Darla went back to talk to her friends. And Lena could quietly go back to reading.

However, after a few minutes of reading some pages. Her book was left forgotten when she heard her name being spoken.

“So, it is true, Lena Luthor left…” Mary muttered with a voice resembling a bit of sadness.

Her green eyes settled on them over the top of her book. It had been a while since she heard her real name being spoken.

“I still can’t believe it.” Darla grumbled while tearing apart her waffles with fury.

“L-corp’s new CEO made the statement. It’s official.” Theo muttered, moving around his scrambled eggs on his plate.

So, Sam had made a statement of her departure.

The thought of her friend made a frown appear on her face.

It had been a week, and she still hadn’t tried to contact Sam. There was a chance the DEO -Supergirl- hadn’t stopped looking for her, and so they could still be watching Sam’s movements.

Lena missed Sam a lot.

She had been so immersed in exploring Venice, that she didn’t even stop to check on her friend.

But she couldn’t risk being found again.

However, curiosity was a trait every Luthor had. And Lena wasn’t an exception.

“Excuse me, do you mind telling me about the statement about Lena Luthor?”

The conversation stopped and three pair of eyes settled on her, as if only just remembering Lena was there too.

Mary was the first to react, and quickly tapped something on her phone.

“Here.” The redhead said while giving the device to Lena.

“Thanks…”

There was an open news page, on it, an article was in display.

‘Lena Luthor no more, or is it?’ The title said, and she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

The most part of the article was about the ‘evil plotting’ she was doing to follow on her brother’s steps, which was laughable to say the least. If she stays in the city, she’s a villain plotting to kill Supergirl; if she leaves, she’s a villain plotting something evil away from Supergirl, so she can’t be stopped.

She would always be a villain, no matter what she did.

At least the article’s author was decent enough not to twist Sam’s words. And reading about her friend speaking highly of her, almost made the Luthor tear up. But she managed to control herself, she wasn’t alone after all.

“Thank you.” Lena said again and returned the phone.

“So, you’re from National City?” Darla was quick to ask, curiosity in her eyes.

“I lived there.”

“Cool! Did you ever meet Lena Luthor?” the brunette asked with excitement in her voice, and Lena was a little taken aback by the reaction.

“Uh-”

Mary elbowed her friend on the ribs, making Darla yelp in pain and glare at the redhead.

“What?” the brunette whined with annoyance.

“Don’t bother her.” Mary said with a stern expression.

Lena observed them bicker and couldn’t help the small amused smile forming on her lips. And when she glanced at the other side of the table, she noticed Theo eating calmly his food, as if his friends arguing was common practice.

“Why are you interest in Lena Luthor?” she couldn’t help but ask. They didn’t seem to hate her, on the contrary, they seemed upset about the news of her leaving the country.

Again, three pair of eyes settled on her, but this time their eyes were sparkling with something Lena couldn’t quite name.

“Well, she’s the most awesome person in the entire universe maybe?” Darla said without preamble.

“She graduated from MIT at nineteen!” Mary was the next to exclaim, admiration oozing from every word. “And it was a double major!”

“She’s a certificate genius, and alone had made many advances in the science field. Her inventions had help so many people. She’s the future of science.” Theo surprisingly said more than the other two girls, the emotion visible in his features.

“You…you don’t hate her?” Lena asked dumbfounded.

Instantly the three of them tensed, and their eyes sharpened.

“Do you?” Darla asked, weariness in her voice, as if her answer would either made them leave or stay.

“No.”

The tense postures immediately disappeared at the sincerity in her voice. And they relaxed considerably.

“We don’t choose the family we live with. And Ms. Luthor has only done good for the world, it’s a shame people don’t see it that way.” Mary mumbled sadly.

“We will graduate next year from MIT, and we really wanted to work with her.” Darla said. “I mean, we would have had to get a job at L-corp, which is very difficult. But there would’ve still been a chance to meet her….and now…now that’s not possible.” The last bit was voiced with sorrow.

All three of them seemed very gloomy at the prospect of never meeting her. And Lena was weirdly touched by that. The Luthor couldn’t help a smile from forming on her lips.

She always assumed people hated her. It came with the name after all. And she was fine with it, she had learned to live with it.

But Lena wasn’t used to hearing people admire her. People who were sad she left the country.

“I graduated from MIT.” It wasn’t the thing she wanted to say, but it did the trick in averting their attention from their gloomy atmosphere.

“Really?!” The brunette exclaimed excitedly, gaining a few glances to their table, but ignoring them. “What major?”

Lena felt her smile grow at the sight in front of her. The young students seemed so exited to hear about her career, they were almost vibrating in their seats.

“Mechanical engineer.” It wasn’t a lie but it also wasn’t the complete truth.

If she told them about her double major, they could realize who she was.

“That’s so cool!”

They gushed about her, asking questions here and there. And Lena let herself get carried away, discussing things with future colleagues.

When her throat started to get ache due to dryness, she took her cup of coffee and noticed its coldness, just then realizing the amount of time she spent talking with the exited university students.

But she didn’t leave the table. Strangely enough, she was having fun for the first time in months.

“So, what are you doing here?” Darla, asked and Mary, was quick to elbow her ribs again. “what?” Darla hissed in pain, rubbing the afflicted area.

“Be respectful!” Mary hissed back.

Lena chuckled at the sight.

“It’s fine.” She muttered and left her cup empty cup of coffee on the table.

For a few seconds she remained in silence, thinking of what to say.

“Let’s just say I’m taking a little me time.” It was the truth, very simplified, but still true.

“Understandable.” Theo said, a shy smile on his lips. “The last year of the career is very demanding, and after that we’ll be very busy finding a job.”

“This is probably the last time we’ll spend so much time together.”

Their smiles dropped, and Lena could practically feel their sadness.

“Then make the most of it.” The words were quick to leave her lips.

They looked at her a little in surprise, and soon happy smiles plastered on their faces as they nodded their agreement.

-x-

Their little breakfast turned into a daily thing.

The gang’s time in Venice however was coming to an end, since they wanted to visit as many countries as they could, and had already bought their plane tickets in advanced.

She was sad to say goodbye; having come to enjoy their company and their science talk.

But the day before they left, they asked her if she would like to accompany them.

The Luthor was so surprised by the unexpected invitation, that she was left speechless. And the group of college seniors thought her silence meant no, and soon went into rants about reasons why she should go with them.

They were very persistent, even Theo gave her a speech of why she should accompany them.

It was like seeing a college presentation in which the main point was convincing her to join them.

Lena laughed, and she didn’t even have to ponder her decision. The yes left her lips easily and without remorse.

They cheered at her acceptance and talked about their next country to visit.

London.

-x-

Lena couldn’t believe she was having so much fun with college students. But then she wondered if she was just replacing her college memories with these ones.

Considering she didn’t have time to go party in college. Two majors were not an easy task even for her.

Besides her PhDs and doctorates. She had had a busy agenda all her adulthood.

And then she was called to manage LuthorCorp.

It seemed her life was always kept busy, never having time to enjoy herself.

Until Kara.

But that friendship was too severed. There was no going back to that.

She needed to do these things, make her own friends without help or ulterior motives.

It was a nice change.

It was just nice.

.

London’s experience was very different from Venice.

For starters, Lena wasn’t alone in her trip anymore.

And she soon found out her newfound friends were filled with energy.

They kept dragging her around to every possible tourist exhibit. And then to the science museums.

But she didn’t complain, they were all giant nerds after all.

-x-

And so, the week in London went by quickly.

The more she spent time with them, the more she was convinced she could help them.

There was sure to be some openings in the science research area at L-corp. And even if there weren’t, it was her company and she could make some spots.

Her decision brought out other problem though.

It was the third week since she stopped contact with Sam. And she knew she was being unfair to her friend.

It wasn’t Sam’s fault the people she trusted had betrayed her. But then again, Lena did warn her.

“What’s the sigh for?” Darla asked while handing over the ice cream Lena wanted.

They were at an ice-cream parlor.

Lena looked over Darla’s shoulder when the brunette sat in front of her, and smiled at the sight of her other friends.

A thing she discovered during her traveling with them, was that Mary and Theo were huge cat lovers. And every time they would see a cat, they felt the need to go and pet the cat, like they were doing in that moment.

“It’s nothing…” She mumbled while digging a spoon on her ice cream.

Darla didn’t buy it, and kept on staring at her.

“I don’t have a phone.” It wasn’t a lie.

“What?!” Darla the ever dramatic one of the group. “You’re a phoneless scientist?! How is that even possible?!”

“I did have a phone, you know. I just threw it away before starting this trip.” She defended herself with a scoff.

“Why?”

She grabbed a big spoon of ice cream and filled it in her mouth. It would give her some time to think.

If Mary would’ve been there as well, she probably would have elbowed Darla again. But since they were alone, the brunette was just waiting for Lena’s answer.

“I had a fallout with some friends. No, I thought they were my friends and I found out they were just using me…”

Darla’s usual happy smile was replaced with a frown.

“How did you find out?”

“My brother told me…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s all in the past now.” Even when she tried to wave it away, her voice betrayed her hurt.

“Is it?”

At that moment, Mary and Theo arrived at the table and took their respective seats. They were happy about their encounter with the cat, but soon realized the mood in the place.

“What’s wrong?” Theo asked frowning a bit.

Darla stared at her, waiting for Lena to decide whether she wanted to talk about it or change the topic.

The Luthor opened her mouth, a lie on the tip of her tongue. But when looking at her new friends, and their sincere concern about her, the lie wasn’t able to be voiced at all.

Instead the truth left her lips, and Lena told them about her reasons to leave the city.

She told them everything, but changing the story a bit so that Kara’s secret was safe.

Even if she was mad with Kara, she wouldn’t expose her identity.

They listened to her quietly, processing every word she was saying. And Lena could see in their reactions that they cared for her.

It warmed her heart.

“You should call her.” Mary said after the brief story. “Your friend Sam.” She added quickly, as if it wasn’t obvious before.

“I don’t-”

“She was tricked too. And she’s probably worried sick about you. I mean, you seem pretty close, and you hadn’t contacted her even after you said you would.”

Lena stopped what she was going to say, and thought about what Darla mentioned. It was true, and Sam didn’t deserve that from her.

“I’ll talk to her…” she mumbled, and her new friends all smiled in approval.

-x-

After going back to the hotel, the young students left her alone, knowing she’d need the time and privacy to contact Sam.

And that’s what Lena was currently doing.

Sitting on the desk set on her hotel room, her laptop was in front of her, while her fingers tapped away with incredible speed.

Lena couldn’t call Sam.

She did buy a phone, and she did remember Sam’s number. But there was a high chance Alex and the DEO were still tracking Sam’s phone.

Lena didn’t want another encounter with National City’s caped hero, so she had to find another way to contact Sam.

The easiest one was through L-corp.

It was her company, and she installed all the security systems.

The Luthor entered L-corp’s system, using a satellite to do so. And was quick to check on every attempt on her security system. She recognized several from the DEO, and rolled her eyes.

They were keeping tabs on her company, and if she tried to block them, they’d notice and Alex would order Brainy to access her company yet again.

So instead, Lena created fake information, like a mantle that would serve as a distraction to the DEO.

And every time they would try to see her archives, they would be sent to that fake information.

She wasn’t about to share her science research with the DEO. Not anymore.

And so, after doing everything to deal with the organization. Lena started to type a message to Sam.

It would arrive in the form of one regular CEO message.

The message contained a few instructions for Sam to follow.

There was a room at L-corp’s building, where no DEO nor Supergirl could listen to their conversation.

Lena had built it after the Kryptonite fiasco.

Looking at the hour and knowing the time difference between the two countries, the young Luthor doubted Sam would be calling in the next minutes.

And so, she closed her computer and put it aside.

The dinner that was delivered to her room an hour before was cold by then, but the Luthor just shrugged and turned on the TV.

An interesting documental was being broadcasted, and she started to eat her food while paying attention to the TV.

A few bites in, and her phone vibrated on the table.

Without looking away from the TV, she took the phone and answered the call. Guessing that Darla or Mary were calling to check in on her.

“Hello?”

“Lena, oh my God! It’s really you!” Sam exclaimed on the other line, excitement lacing her voice.

The documentary was soon forgotten and the Luthor’s attention was now solely on the phone call. But Sam didn’t give Lena a chance to speak, instead her joyful voice was instantly replaced for one of anger.

“What the fuck, Lena? It’s been weeks!”

“I-”

“No! You listen to me, Luthor!” Sam growled on the phone and the younger woman shut her mouth. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?! I thought you were dead or something!”

“Sam-”

“It wasn’t my fault, you know! What Alex did was fucked up, but it wasn’t my fault…it wasn’t a reason for you to cut me out too…”

“I’m sorry…”

“Yeah, you better be.”

“I really am…I’m so very sorry, Sam…you’re the only one who was always on my side, and I shouldn’t have gone radio silent with you…”

“Well, as long as you know…” The Arias grumbled, her mood quieting down.

“Will you forgive me?”

“Of course I forgive you, you asshole…you’re my friend, Lena…dealing with your bullshit comes with the package.” She mumbled and Lena chuckled. “Yeah, laugh all you want. You don’t know what lecture awaits you from Jess.”

Lena gulped, her assistant was very loyal, and very strong minded. And she was very vocal about her complains when it came to Lena’s stupid actions. She could picture it already, Jess frown and her arms crossed, her eyes reflecting her anger…

“Yeah, she’s pretty pissed.” Sam laughed.

“Oh come on, can’t you talk to her?”

“No, can’t do. No one likes being on Jess’s bad side.”

“Such friend you are…”

“Seriously?” Her voice sounded offended.

“Ok ok, sorry…”

They laughed together, and Lena felt so happy talking with Sam. She didn’t know why she waited so long in contacting her again, but she was glad she finally did.

“So, what you been up to?” Sam asked after a while.

A smile spread on her lips, and she was quick to narrate her adventures with her newfound friends.

.

Lena had to promise and swear that she’d keep in contact, before Sam could let her end the call.

They would’ve talked for more than a couple of hours, but Sam had work to do early in the morning.

After connecting her phone to its charger, Lena collapsed on her bed tiredly.

She had a few hours to rest before going to the airport.

Their next stop was Paris.

-x-

It was easy to notice her bright mood.

As if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she could finally let herself relax.

Her friends didn’t mention her change of mood, they just smiled along with her.

Lena felt so thankful to have met them.

If it wasn’t for them, she probably would’ve waited too long before calling Sam.

And so, with a happy smile, the Luthor took out her credit card and paid for four first-class tickets to Paris.

When they noticed her actions, Darla choked on her own saliva, and Theo tried to help with the coughing fit. While Mary instantly tried to talk Lena out of it.

It was too expensive for them to let her do it.

“It’s alright. I had well-paid job, and I can afford it. Don’t worry about it.” Lena waved away their concerns with a smile on her face.

“But-” Mary tried once again to talk her out of it.

“I mean it. I can afford it.”

Her emerald eyes showed nothing but sincerity, and her friends could only smile and accept the gift.

-x-

It had been a while since Lena flew in first-class. Which wasn’t a surprise, given that she preferred to fly in her own plane.

But looking at the first-class accommodations, she noticed they didn’t change that much form the last time she flew in first-class.

And the Luthor could easily adapt to the plane.

However, the same couldn’t be said about her friends.

Darla and Mary’s jaws were practically touching the floor. They were looking at everything and everywhere, as if it would be their last time in a first-class accommodation.

Theo looked more composed, but his huge sparkling eyes betrayed his enthusiasm.

Lena giggled at their awestruck expressions.

It was going to be a fun flight.

-x-

“We have to go to the Eiffel tower!” Darla exclaimed as soon as they were on the hotel’s dining area having lunch.

“Why?” Lena mumbled after taking a sip of her wine.

“What do you mean why? It’s one of the world’s wonders!”

“It does sound amazing.” Mary agreed and Theo nodded.

“You guys go on without me.” Lena said pushing aside her plate.

Paris on itself was known to be the city of love, and the Eiffel tower was one of the most romantic places to go.

She had talked about it with Kara once, and how she wished to have dinner there sometime.

“Let’s go together then!” Kara had exclaimed happily, always joyful when food was involved.

And even when she knew Kara meant a friend dinner, her hopeful heart was quick to imagine a scenario where she would go on a date with Kara there.

Now the Eiffel tower was spoiled for her. And Lena couldn’t handle going there, at least not yet. The wounds were still too fresh.

“But it’s the Eiffel tower…” Darla pouted.

Mary elbowed Darla on the ribs, sensing there was more to it than Lena was letting on.

“If you’re sure...”

“I am. I actually wanted to check the Louvre.”

The three of them frowned with a little distaste, and Lena laughed.

Another interesting quirk she found about her friends was that they didn’t enjoy going to art museums.

“I just don’t understand the point.” Theo had said when Lena asked. Mary and Darla nodding their agreement.

“We’re science people.” Darla would add with crossed arms.

All in all, they were not fans of art museums.

“Well then, go enjoy your…art thing.” Mary said, it was clear she was trying to be polite, but she just couldn’t understand how someone would willingly go to an art museum.

“I will.” Lena said with an amused smile.

-x-

There were many tour guides for the first comers, and she had been put into one of those groups. However, she soon grew bored of hearing the nasal voice of the guy guiding the tour.

And after hearing the guide for a total of ten minutes, Lena slipped away when he wasn’t paying attention.

Walking on her own and admiring the beautiful art displays, the Luthor let herself enjoy it.

She wandered around the museum, letting her feet guide her destination. Passing by other people moving around her.

Lena came upon the Venus de Milo, and her legs planted in front of the statue.

It was the first exhibit that the Luthor stared at for more than ten minutes.

“Aphrodite…” the name left her lips in a whisper. “I wonder if you ever had a broken heart…”

Wouldn’t it be tragic for the goddess of love to have a broken heart?

Could Aphrodite understand what Lena was going through?

A sad smile formed on her lips.

And then-

Then, someone chuckled by her side and the Luthor almost jumped out her skin, so inside her head she didn’t notice someone stepping by her side.

A frown etched on her features, but when she turned around to see the intruder, the words died in her throat.

A tall gorgeous woman was standing by her side, wearing a white dress that hugged her body in all the right places. And if Lena wasn’t sure she was gay before, she sure as hell was now.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The woman said, and her voice sent shivers to Lena’s spine.

“Uh…don’t worry about it…I was just in my head…”

“Wondering if Aphrodite ever had a broken heart?”

There was a hint of amusement in the woman’s voice, and Lena felt her cheeks blush in embarrassment.

She hadn’t meant to be heard.

“Diana Prince.” The woman said while extending a hand in greeting.

Soft skin.

Lena had to shake her head slightly to not keep thinking on how soft Diana’s hand was.

Her name was on the tip of her tongue, but before she could expose her identity, she caught herself.

“Tess Mercer.” She said regaining some of her confidence.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Mercer.” Diana said letting go of her hand.

“Tess is fine. And the pleasure is all mine.” If only she knew how true that statement was.

“Well, if I’m calling you Tess…”

“Diana it is-”

Suddenly Lena stopped talking, a frown etching on her features.

The interaction was so similar to the one she had with Kara a few years prior.

When they were just getting to know each other.

When the lies started.

“Tess?”

Diana’s voice brought her back from her memories, and Lena could see a worried frown etching the woman’s perfect features.

“Sorry, I-”

‘I was thinking about the person who broke my heart.’

She couldn’t say that, so instead the Luthor plastered a fake smile on her face. One of those she had perfected over her years as a Luthor.

“I tend to get lost in my head.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

“I see…” There was something in the way Diana stared at her, as if she didn’t believe Lena’s words.

Thankfully for her, Diana didn’t push.

“Where is your tour guide?” The tall woman asked while looking around. No tour guide in sight.

“How do you know I was with a tour guide?” Lena asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, newcomers tend to need a tour guide.” The Luthor opened her mouth to argue, but Diana just smiled and kept talking. “And yes, I’m sure this is your first time here.”

“Really? How can you tell?” Lena crossed her arms, a challenging smile on her lips.

“I work here.” Her soft voice was laced with something Lena couldn’t quite name. But it had a soothing effect on her.

“Huh…” The Luthor did not see that coming. But she was quick to regain her composure. “Maybe I came here before and you just don’t remember me.”

Diana chuckled and shook her head slightly.

“I don’t think so.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“If I would have met you before…” Diana took a step closer to her. “I wouldn’t have been able to forget you.”

There was a glint in Diana’s eyes, and her voice was so soft and deep that Lena felt her throat dry.

They weren’t standing very close, but the distance between them wasn’t that much either.

Emerald eyes were locked with chocolate ones.

As if a spell had been put unto them, and they weren’t able to look at anything but each other.

A thought crossing through the Luthor’s mind.

‘Well fuck…this wasn’t what I planned for this trip…’

[shattered-catalyst]

Do you have favorite threads?

I try not to but I can't help it to say I do have some that stick out stronger than most on this blog!

Alot of them were with @shakenquake the absolute banter and rhythm and sass we had going was really enjoyable to write and made the relationship seem real and believable. I especially dig the visuals of Rictor being trapped in a truck stop diner wearing clashing tacky gas station tourist garb. 10/10

I really love the ones we have going on because we have a great balance between both of our characters being humans with trauma and being "heroes" with super powers and extraordinary lives. I love how they are both growing close to each other and how Catalyst feels comfortable to try acting like a 14/15 year old around Ororo because that's always fun to write. But its always good to write in the darker stuff too so there are those threads that have that good balance and they are *chef kiss*

My Halloween thread with @fiddlingonthetympanic because our writing styles mesh and we just have fun and go ham at it. This is the thread that got me through wrist surgery and post op. No really I was laying on the couch bored out of my mind and it was the only thing I could think about! Catalyst has an interesting perspective on Tess that I am still trying to tease out and I feel its a very unique very mojoworld based relationship that may not exactly exist on earth. Its fun to explore and fun to hurt Catalyst and his 100 question rants at Tess lol.

Anything with Jay at @myuuzupunk Catalyst and Jay go way back so their friendship formed over time and that means every thread they have but particularly the current animal crossing one has a lot of backstory and lore tied into it. Really id add Jay into top 5 influential people in Catalyst's life.

Shenanigan threads with @thecorteztwins we joke about catalyst being a duckling for strong personalities which is TRUE and its a fault of his and its always good to explore muses faults. Its also good to help your friend's harass fandom douchebags! Also @sebastianshaw thank you for helping Catalyst get even more animals to pet! feel free to mention him in asks getting the chance to pet as many animals as possible just remember he never yells at women and is an honorable fighter and will thank Snowbird and ask her for coffee enthusiastically after every fight lol.

[thesquidgame]

spontaneous is a heartbreaking movie but it is incredibly healing as well.

the plot is that the senior class of a highschool keels randomly blowing up, for seemingly no reason. now the how, why or what isnt important. the only thing that is is how it effects the kids.

the movie revolves around mara, who is pretty much an average weird high school student who has a best friend (tess) and smokes weed. she meets a guy named dylan who hs had a crush on her for a while and texts her after the first explosion.

they quickly start dating. it keeps on happening, and they get put in quarantine. kids keep dying and they create a pill called "the snooze button" to stop it. a bunch more kids die, which effects everyone differently. but for the most part, they react pretty realistically, at first you think "why the fuck aren't they super depressed" but then you realize its because at any second someone can die. they all sob for a couple hours after the next death, and then they hunker down and keep joking.

the snooze buttons eventually works, and after no deaths for a month, they get let. out mara and dylan have sex and mara and tess hang out more, even though everyone treats them differently.

they try to heal, and mostly move on, having a memorial and continuing life. mara and dylan have a few really good months and he tells her he loves her on his birthday, and its obvious she does too she jist isnt ready to say it.

they finally go back to school and everything seems fantastic and then suddenly kids started popping really fast. like 5 in a minute fast. everyone runs around screaming, and mara watches a bunch of her friends die.

she finally gets out of the school and dylan runs around to find her, and they embrace. they tell eachother how important they are, and as mara is about to tell dylan she loves him, there is a pop and the screen turns red.

it shoots back to a blood soaked figure walking down main street in the middle of the night. and it zooms in to show mara. dylan is dead.

she has a cut on her face from where dylans jawbone hit her, and she spirals. she shuts everything out, refuses to go to his funeral, and flushes her meds down the toilet. she googles online discourse that say that she had the curse. she becomes an alcoholic as a way to cope, and her parents do their best to help her, but they realize its best just to leave her be, because she could be dead tomorrow.

mara shuts tessa out and walks out of a liquor store with vodka, and the cashier lets her walk out without paying or id, everyone knows who mara is and whats happened.

an fbi agent wbo shes grown close to is there. mara drunkenly drops her vodka and throws it at the agent to try and get her to drink with her, and ends up smashing her mirror. her parents lecture her, but it doesnt work. she gets into another fight with tess, and spends all of her time looking at videos of dylan.

she shows up drunk in her halloween dress (she was carrie but she couldnt have blood on her thanks to the explosions) to her prom/ graduation, that is scarcely populated and kind of lame. she makes a drunken speech as she collects her diploma saying sorry and that it was all her fault. as she walks off, she hears all the survivors taking blame and apologizing, and she realizes that they all feel the same.

she goes to dylans grave and lays down. his mom shows up and asks if she can lay down next to her, and she says yes. she confesses to dylans mom that she wants to die and be with dylan and apologizes for not being at the funeral, and his mom tells her to keep going, as she lost her husband a few years before too. they fall asleep on the fresh grave.

mara gets sober amd goes off to college driving dylans weird truck.

i hadnt cried the whole movie but this next part breaks me, so be warned.

it starts a montage/ monolog type thing where mara tells the audience about how shes going to date guys, and marry some of them, and have kids, and become president and hang out with tess. she says that some nights she'll tell people about dylan and how much she loves him. the movie ends with her saying that shes going to live her life and never forget or stop loving dylan.

[lorentibbs-blog]

Manic Depressive

Manic Depressive.

Every morning he makes me a cup of tea.

Once he even delivered a Harry Spesh- one-part espresso, one- part hot water and one- part steamed milk, to me in the shower. I wondered whether Espresso Cartel could offer this service during alert level 3 in the current pandemic.

“I do not want a relationship”. He looked at me with eyes verging on panic. Our conversation before that had also put me on edge. I had introduced myself and he said ‘I know who you are. We are friends on Facebook’. It had made me feel uncomfortable to have been connected on social media with someone who I did not recognize in real life. He had even come to my flat to collect a costume from my flatmate before the party we were at and I did not recognize him then or now.

 A party on top of a mountain. Well because my life had become rather progressive and trendy from the outside looking in. My flatmates had introduced me into a world of polyamory, sophisticated and successful people who cared about the environment, radical self-acceptance ( I only understood it as a concept at this point), and drug use that took me to places I’d never imagined. Inside however, I was in absolute turmoil. I was very unwell and did not know how sick I was at that point.

We had laughed as he explained that we had matched on Tinder and I had insisted on communicating on Facebook. We had arranged to meet at Toad Hall for coffee but 10 minutes beforehand I had decided it was all too much for me. When I looked back on that conversation, Sebastian had responded eloquently to my crazed blow off message and even said that he had had a lovely morning at the market instead. He has this way of understanding and making you feel human for your flaws rather than an insane nut job. The jury is still out for me on that one

The party itself was too much for me. I had climbed a mountain on LSD with two amazing wahine and then stepped into the lodge which was full of equally astounding people. I was terrified. I made my way to a bunk and clung on to my safety duo, Clara, and Tess. We went through the motions, the costumes, dinner (more vegan options than not), excruciating anxiety, the drugs, the fashion show, and the sex pile. The fashion show had ended with my flatmate Ngairi, whose birthday it was, atop a human pyramid. I dropped some MDMA like most of the party goers had. I had hoped this would curb my anxiety and fatigue. It helped but I did find myself going back and forth between the main room and my bunk all night. At one stage I had been led onto another bunk by my other flatmate Ryan, who was Ngairi’s partner. They are polyamorous you see, and he had asked me if I had wanted to hook up.

I always feel so good the next day after MDMA. I should probably explore why this is. I guess when I am on the drug, I have all these revelations and then the next morning potentially I feel lighter?

So, after 12 hours of stepping into the lodge I was finally ready to introduce myself to someone. 

Sebastian was by himself pretending to look busy with a broom. I enthusiastically (probably the most energetic and social I had felt the whole time) introduced myself and the conversation flowed around depression, anxiety, and Sebastian’s house build. I had suggested that we go for coffee at Toad Hall like we had initially planned to 2 years before. This is where I was taken back with his response of “I don’t want a relationship” it was like he had seen my brain ticking off all the characteristics I was valuing as we spoke. “sensitive, understanding of depression, attractive, a Colgate worthy smile, built his own house, older than me, mutual friends and blue eyes that saw right through me”. Later I would tease him about his panicked response as if I were ‘just’ asking him to go for coffee

Getting to know Sebastian has been a remarkably interesting journey since then and has been the catalyst for much introspection.

As I walked down the mountain that afternoon, I did a lot of self-reflection. I was thankful that one of our trio had left us early and I was left just walking down with Clara Keel. I found it so easy to talk to Clara. I think she found it easy to talk to me too. Even in a manic-depressive episode I was able to make beautiful connections with admirable people. Her girlfriend suffered from major depression and anxiety and was on Venlafaxine. It was very enlightening to hear from Clara as a partner with someone with depression. Clara invited me to go snowboarding with her and her friends over the winter and we promised to see each other very soon. I did not see her again for a long time. Turns out she is outrageously hard to pin down. I am stoked about that though because Clara keeps herself busy with a lot of incredible environmental and political work. We stopped and chatted to various people from the party down the mountain. Our ride Mikey Clementine was running down the mountain and said he was happy to wait for us at the carpark.  We caught up with Sebastian and a crew he was walking with. We walked down with him and I was very aware of him positionally to me. I did not really talk too much. Id taken a mushroom and weed coconut concoction that my ex had made me and I was vibing with the trees and my surroundings. I was very appreciative of the conversation Sebastian and Clara were having and was happy just witnessing it

On the ride back, my mushroom trip was really kicking in. Mikey blew my mind when he described his interest in the dominant and submissive scene. He made a point I have never forgotten and in that moment a switch flicked in my head. He explained that with every sexual session all participants would sit down before hand and have a discussion around their expectations, wants, limits, and fetishes. If either party felt uncomfortable or did not feel like their sexual style matched, then nothing would go ahead. I felt like these conversations should be happening around any kind of sex. It would save so much miscommunication and boundaries being crossed. In the history of my sexual life these conversations were really lacking and had there been space for them that may have saved a lot of suffering. Interesting that this style of sex is viewed in quite a dark and risky light by most but could potentially be the safest kind in terms of discussion, boundaries and consent. Purely because a discussion is expected and is compulsory beforehand.

Ngairi was absolutely filled with joy after her birthday party. We chatted in the kitchen and she was fizzing about the weekend’s events. I began to tell her the story about Sam and I and our failed tinder meet up. She paused me mid-way through and vomited rainbows and unicorns over her experience of Sebastian that weekend. She described their rendezvous in the pile of costumed MDMA cuddle puddle participants. Ngairi was on top of Sebastian in the cuddle puddle.  “Ryan bounced up to me in his bunny costume and I was so happy to see him” she described their embrace as she disclosed into Ryan’s ear “Sebastian has a boner!”. Ryan and Ngairi both giggled and shared a cheeky grin as he bounced away. Sebastian was fingering Ngairi the whole time the interaction took place. As it turned out, Ngairi and Sebastian had fooled around in the cuddle puddle and had intercourse before Ngairi returned to her bunk with Ryan. Later Sebastian would tell me he thought I had known that him and Ngairi had slept together the night before when I asked him if he wanted to go for a coffee. ‘yeah I thought you knew and were still asking me out. I thought wow this polyamory thing is real eye-opening stuff

Ryan in turn had hooked up with a large percentage of the party, me included. When Ryan and I had hooked up I was taken back when he stopped our encounter and told me he was going back to the party. It was interesting to initially feel rejected he did not want to take things further like I thought we were going to. I am thankful for the experience of having someone stop me in my tracks sexually. Anyone can stop any sexual encounter at any time. I guess I was just flabbergasted momentarily as I have never had any male stop me before. I stayed in the bunk and rested after this. Ryan came back to check if I was okay. I was so exhausted, and my brain was very fuzzy at this stage.

I will not deny that I was disappointed when Ngairi had told me about her encounter with Sebastian. In fact, I will go as far as to say I thought “fuck you Ngairi, you have the best boyfriend can’t you be happy with that”. I reflected on this thought process and by the end of the week I was disappointed in myself for thinking this way.

Ngairi Newton chose to live her life this way. She was in a committed polyamorous relationship with Ryan Mcgregor This relationship allowed her to explore any other relationship in any way she liked and vice versa. I had found her perspective on relationships so exciting initially.  Polyamory was a new concept for me, and I had found myself in the household of the most exceptional and liberating relationship id ever heard of.

So how did I find myself in the position I was in? Unemployed, depressed, anxiety ridden and barely coping, living with two of the most inspirational and functional people I have ever met?

I was living with Ngairi and Ryan for the second time. The first time was only a three week stay while I was in between places. I am always in between places as you will find out. I am in between places right now as we speak. And will be 5 times over by the time this story is done.

Emilie my flatmate at the time had invited me to a Halloween party. Emilie was a very bizarre and unnerving woman but one that was difficult to say no to. I remember feeling instantly connected to her when I first viewed the room. We engaged in deep conversation incredibly early on, I mean I do not believe I was there longer than half an hour. We both identified our fathers as the cause of all the turmoil in our lives.  She did not hear me when I first knocked on the door even though I was bang-on on time (sat outside in the car for 20 minutes because I was early). She was on her kitchen floor pulling all the contents out of the cupboard. Her current flatmate had told her about a book that was about de cluttering your life (literally). She had just flown back from a disastrous 3-month trip in France and was experiencing some severe jet lag. She had just cleaned out her wardrobe and I left in a state of glee with all the gorgeous garments this exciting woman no longer wanted. Two weeks into moving in with Emilie I knew I had made a mistake. We found ourselves in a very messy situation in the end that was further complicated by my close friends taking the room I was not quite ready to give up.

 I had realized that I could not live with her. She had taken it to heart when I told her this and somehow my telling her I was thinking about looking for a new room turned into me giving her two weeks’ notice. I guess there may have been a miscommunication. Little did I know how scarce accommodation in Nelson was at this point.  Anyway, through all of this we managed to stay civil and she invited me, like the Gemini she is, to a party the weekend before I was to move out.  We found it difficult to find the party and when we did it was really humming. Turned out to be a party of a woman who I had met before. Again, on the path to finding the right accommodation.  Chrissie and I had met at Claudia’s house. Claudia owned a house I had fallen in love with, the room available was Christie’s room. I did not get the room. This party was a housewarming for Chrissie’s new place. I had enquired about this place as well.  Chrissie had told me over text that she was looking for a new house because she wanted to take drugs over the summer and have more of a party living environment. She then said that she thought it would not really suit me as at that point I had intense social anxiety. Since then I have befriended several people in a circle of friends that Chrissie and I now share. We have encountered each other a few times. Each of those times I have been unwell. She is beautiful, funny, Canadian and she is an engineer. Its hard not to be starstruck by her. I imagine Chrissie and I would get on like a house on fire if I were at my best when I ran into her, I always seem to be unwell though. Emilie is gone within moments of us entering the sea of costumed people. I make a bee line to the table of snacks. And I start munching on chips and dip as if my life depended on it. I am not sure how it happened but I found myself in a conversation with a woman in an amazing shiny pants suit, the blazer atop a sequined bikini top, her face was painted in a Mexican skull design and she had a platinum blonde bob. What a bad bitch. (id never actually say that in real life. Real hero behind a keyboard type stuff)

When Mel, a fellow volunteer from the Wellness Movement, suggested asking her if she would rent out her spare room, I was not picturing Ngairi as the woman in from of me.

I had imagined a 40 + year old slightly chubby Maori woman with a couple of cats. As it turned out Ngairi only had one cat named Espresso. I am fairly sure Espresso wouldn’t have had me if she had had a choice in the matter. Fair enough too as it turns out.

[punkscowardschampions]

Joe & Ronnie

Joe: Hi Joe: There's no gentle way of doing this, so I'll just get to it, I'm sorry if you don't want to talk about it but you're free to ignore this if that's the case Joe: but I've been looking for my half-sister, and I think its you Ronnie: if youre basing that on a family resemblance youve shot yourself in the face like Ronnie: reload & keep looking Joe: Yeah, I know Joe: but I ain't Joe: Aside from coming at you with what's on any facebook profile anyway Joe: do you know your biological mum's name or? Ronnie: whos used facebook in a decade thats your 1st fuck up Ronnie: 2nd to reckoning my dna is any of your business Joe: who's putting their date of birth and hometown anywhere else? Joe: you were born in [hospital] right? Ronnie: phone numbers on toilet walls getting played out Ronnie: yeah & Joe: then it is you Joe: everything adds up, you have the right birthday, right place, right last name, and first, still Ronnie: right colour Ronnie: miss me with your schoolboy maths Joe: its your bio dad that's black Ronnie: fuck you i know that Ronnie: read my file well before you stalked me Joe: so do you know her name or nah Ronnie: it was in there Joe: Tess Vickers Joe: she is your mum Ronnie: i came out of her Ronnie: shes not my fucking mum Ronnie: id know you if she was Joe: 'course Joe: that's what I meant Ronnie: pick your words more careful soft lad Joe: she don't have any more Joe: I ain't had to do this before, like Ronnie: made up for her Ronnie: & you Ronnie: only took her how many years to claim her bastards Joe: I don't know why she didn't, only what she's said Joe: but if you wanted to ask her, I could set that up Ronnie: if it took her a bit to recover from goin black i don't need to ask her about that Ronnie: got my own experiences cheers Joe: is there anything you do Ronnie: if i had any questions id have chucked 'em at her when i aged out Joe: fair enough Joe: you wanna ask me anything then Ronnie: you old enough to be cleaning out your mas skeletons & seein if theyll dance for you Joe: not what I'm doing Joe: but I'm 19 Ronnie: course she never kept herself stitched up for long Ronnie: got a taste for it like Joe: by all accounts she met my dad the same year she had to give you up so Ronnie: bet he was proper comforting Ronnie: fucking hell Joe: Must've been Ronnie: if she kept you longer than the hour yeah Joe: I've got 3 brothers and a sister too Ronnie: when did she meet their dads Joe: we've got the same, like Joe: youngest is nearly 5 Ronnie: shes still alive then Ronnie: impressive Joe: is it? Joe: suppose so Ronnie: he got cash your sperm donor Ronnie: less dangerous game that one Joe: they both do alright now but you'd probably aim higher if that was the game you were playing Ronnie: shifting gear aint no game now or back then Ronnie: but she was small time Ronnie: that hand to mouth shit Joe: yeah, for years Joe: her dad's debts not helping none Ronnie: hes gotta be dead Joe: yeah Joe: year I was born Joe: so new mouth to feed and inheriting the neverending debts of John Joe: must've seemed like a great time to have more 'cos my brother is only a year younger than me 👍 Ronnie: least you aint inherited his name Ronnie: like i said insatiable Joe: thank fuck Ronnie: piss poor addiction but fuck it Ronnie: shes keeping 'em fed & clothed this time 👏 Joe: gutted social don't hand out round of applauses no doubt Joe: know she is for a fact 'cos she ended up working for 'em, and fostering two poor kiddies in need Joe: what do you reckon to her addiction now? Ronnie: sounds about right theyd left her Ronnie: state of the cunts running that show Joe: mhmm Ronnie: white kids are easier to love Ronnie: its on the posters like Joe: in theory Joe: but this way she gets to be obsessed with you from afar Ronnie: pay me enough & ill come press my face longingly against her windows Joe: I'll keep it in mind for her birthday or something Ronnie: fuck all else you wanna rock my world with or what Joe: Hmm Joe: hold up whilst I trawl a lifetime of overshare for any more tidbits Ronnie: she aint rotting by the roadside or ashes i can snort means my hearts already broken Ronnie: take your time Joe: sorry to disappoint Joe: suppose by the time you got to your file, it told you she'd run away from Liverpool, yeah? Ronnie: bullshit are you Ronnie: youre loving having another cunt to share it with Ronnie: whats the matter dont your brothers & sister wanna play Joe: I'm the favourite Joe: favourite that's about Joe: they got the gist but no file for them Ronnie: 💔 Joe: you said Joe: so, what you saying, you care if I tell her I found you or what? Ronnie: if it feels good do it baby Ronnie: why would i care Ronnie: shes not gonna show up Joe: what if she did? Ronnie: no fixed address Joe: I've told you she loves a cause Joe: say you don't wanna see her Ronnie: shooting the messenger aint no kill shot Ronnie: youre not invested in me Joe: I'm not not, clearly Joe: I'm the one looking, ain't I Ronnie: let her look under every rock with you Ronnie: i hope one bashes her skull in Joe: alright Joe: I'll pass it on Ronnie: good boy Ronnie: get that sticker on your reward chart Joe: god I hope so Ronnie: 🙏 Joe: Your profile says you're in London, still true? Ronnie: i don't need you at my door either Joe: 🙄 Ronnie: roll your eyes at me again Joe: 🙄🙄 Ronnie: 🖕🖕 Joe: 😏 Ronnie: what the fuck do you want Joe: I've told you Ronnie: nah Ronnie: spit it out Ronnie: youre circling around it stop being a pussy Joe: how am I? Ronnie: what do you want for fucks sake Joe: meet you Ronnie: its not happening Joe: why not Ronnie: i hate that you exist Ronnie: that she got a 2nd chance & i didnt get 1 Joe: that's fair Joe: you can hate me in person Ronnie: i aint goin to prison for killing you Ronnie: you wish Joe: yeah Joe: oh well Ronnie: take your death wish home Ronnie: or on a different part of the internet Joe: awh, cheers for the sisterly advice Ronnie: shut your mouth Ronnie: i ain't your sister Joe: kk Ronnie: dumping all your bullshit on me dont make us related Joe: we are Joe: you not wanting it don't fight biology Ronnie: her not wanting me cancels it all out Joe: not to me Ronnie: i give a shit how you feel Ronnie: youre a stranger with fuck all i want Joe: you ain't checked what I've got Ronnie: until facebook adds income i dont care Joe: 💔 Ronnie: you must look like your da Ronnie: dont be Joe: well you look like her Joe: not that I've seen yours Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: i dont Joe: yeah you do Joe: [sends pics] Ronnie: shut up Joe: alright Joe: catch you around then Ronnie: get it through your head Ronnie: you wont Joe: what you scared for Ronnie: youre having fun trying to mess me up Ronnie: that aint how i get mine Joe: I'm seriously not Joe: I've got the message though, alright Ronnie: youre seriously throwing all this shit at me like im gonna smile as i eat it Ronnie: what the fuck Joe: I don't expect fuck all Joe: I just wanna know you but if you don't then that's alright Joe: I won't message again Ronnie: bullshit Ronnie: you aint asked about me Ronnie: you wanna bitch about 'em Joe: that's why I wanna meet you Joe: I've thrown enough questions at you for one convo Ronnie: nah you wanna meet me to see if i proper look like her Joe: I've got eyes Ronnie: if thats what you reckon you see they dont fucking work Ronnie: get down the social & claim Joe: you're fine, its not dead ringer levels Ronnie: im fucking fine cause theres none of her in me Joe: I'm glad for you Ronnie: were not family save your lies Ronnie: i dont need any blows softened Joe: its only me bitching Ronnie: yeah Ronnie: & you can save your tears Ronnie: you already cant see fuck all like Joe: what do you want? Ronnie: too late to give a fuck Ronnie: youve shit over me with this Joe: I'm sorry Ronnie: nah Ronnie: sorry for yourself aint the same Joe: Why would I be sorry for me? Joe: I got everything Ronnie: not how youre framing it Joe: why would you believe me Ronnie: not hard to believe mummy dearest loves me best Ronnie: not like she dumped me fast as she could & legged it Joe: she weren't allowed to keep you, she was 14 with a junkie non-dad to look after you both Ronnie: & what she didnt get any older or get her shit together Ronnie: fuck that Joe: did you want her to come 'round and pick you up 4 years later? Ronnie: she had you cunts instead Joe: so she comes and gets you and the social come with and see the fake bailiffs and the bashed in door and we all go back with you Joe: I see the appeal Ronnie: you reckon i had it better Ronnie: thats what this nancy drew bullshit is about Joe: nice one, genius Joe: in what world is that adding up Ronnie: yours Ronnie: in what world would i have not gone with any cunt to get me out of that place then Joe: I'm telling you why she didn't get you, not telling you why you wouldn't wanna be there Ronnie: youre giving me both Ronnie: cant help yourself Joe: they're the same reason Joe: if she tried to get you, they'd say nah 'cos her life was a mess, simple as Ronnie: & yet here you are Ronnie: not a care kid a single day in your fucking life Ronnie: so like i said she got her shit together in the end Joe: she was 18 when I came around and we got taught how to say the right thing to socials and how to shut our mouths the rest Joe: but that's just what she told me Joe: she probably didn't want you, looking back Ronnie: why would she Ronnie: had a new set up with a cunt that stayed Ronnie: cuter kids Joe: 'cos she loved your da the way only a 14 year old girl can Joe: pro and a con in your favour Joe: does she want the reminders or does she not Ronnie: not Ronnie: youre the only pussy walking memory lane Ronnie: aint her looking Joe: yeah, s'me, so why you chatting at me like I'm the one that fucked you off Joe: not productive Ronnie: cause you are Joe: I've gone to leave loads now Joe: you've clearly got shit to say Joe: so just say it at me, I've already offered that n'all Ronnie: fuck you Ronnie: i didnt ask for this Ronnie: she was in the ground for all i knew Joe: she still can be Joe: I ain't telling Ronnie: nah you opened your gob & let all that shite out Ronnie: i couldve been about to slit my throat or pull a shift Joe: you could've easily found out she weren't dead yourself too Ronnie: what should it tell you that i didnt Joe: ignorance ain't such bliss I've tipped you over the edge Ronnie: you dont know shit Ronnie: how does yours feel Joe: how do you think Ronnie: i think you should ask if people have got time & space to spin out before you fuck with their heads Ronnie: i think you should go suck a dick mckenna Joe: why should I? Joe: no one asked me and I owe you shit Ronnie: she owes me Ronnie: youre nothing Ronnie: you dont see me knocking cause im not looking for answers & theres fuck all else to collect by the sounds of it Joe: then fucking collect Ronnie: talk to your ma like that Joe: hit me up when you stop being scared Ronnie: keep it up and ill smash in your face Joe: how Joe: you don't wanna meet Ronnie: dont flatter yourself nancy drew Ronnie: i can still kick your door in Ronnie: be like the baliffs are back Ronnie: you can revisit your childhood Joe: now who wants to go for a jaunt down memory lane Ronnie: you wish Joe: 🙏 Ronnie: i reckon your imaginary friends gotta be sick of your bullshit by now Joe: no doubt, nancy drew Ronnie: we cant both be nancy Joe: alright you be sid then Ronnie: still not gonna kill you baby Ronnie: but youre getting warmer Joe: I know, stalked you, remember Ronnie: get a hobby or habit mckenna Ronnie: your little misery boners aint cute Joe: oh I got plenty of thoses Joe: your concern is, kinda Ronnie: youve thrown me into the big sister deep end Ronnie: sounds like how you want it Joe: very obliging Ronnie: unloved kids get it where they can Ronnie: thats on the back of the poster Joe: trust, I know Ronnie: 💔 Joe: not me Joe: never mind, not my sob story to hit you with Ronnie: you only wanna share yours Joe: maybe when we get cosy I'll divulge all the family secrets, sis Ronnie: maybe if you chat shit like that to me again ill choke on my puke Joe: n'awh Ronnie: kill yourself Joe: sure thing Ronnie: very obliging Joe: it was already in the diary tbh Joe: but I'll pop you in the note if that makes you feel 💘 Ronnie: show me yours & ill show you mine Joe: deal Ronnie: 💘 Ronnie: [skippity skip] Ronnie: pick me up Joe: where from Ronnie: [location that's sketchy as all hell] Joe: alright Joe: that should take me 'bout half an hour this time of day Ronnie: im not goin anywhere mckenna Joe: you alright Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: got it Joe: 🚖 📵 Ronnie: important for you to know your place Joe: must be popular with the cabbies 👑 Ronnie: yeah im on a ban Ronnie: look out for my picture hanging Joe: what did you do Joe: vom and not pay the fine one too many times? Ronnie: we taking another trip down memory lane Ronnie: i aint 12 Joe: go on then, what was it Ronnie: the cunt crashed its fuck all to get excited about Joe: did you get hurt? Ronnie: didnt feel it Joe: what about the driver Ronnie: i reckon he felt it Joe: fucked you're stuck with the tube then Joe: 💔 Ronnie: cheers motherfucker Ronnie: cant you drive Joe: 'course I can Joe: where'd your license go, got a story for that and all or? Ronnie: car theft would be a dead good sibling bonding activity Ronnie: but i dont need your help to break a window Joe: another time Ronnie: nah Ronnie: next time some other cunt will pick me up Joe: good thing I didn't specify Joe: tah for keeping me well in the loop of your schedule though Ronnie: other shit in the diary besides blowing my brains out Ronnie: can move it up if you aint gonna shut up Joe: 🤐 Joe: you can keep all your dates Ronnie: made up i am Joe: no need to say thanks, I feel it Ronnie: you wanted to meet up Ronnie: wish granted Joe: I know Joe: reckon blue would suit Ronnie: what Joe: genie Joe: you owe me 2 more, yeah? Ronnie: rubbing me up the wrong way dont count Joe: damn Ronnie: i can do black & blue Joe: changed your mind then Joe: my 🍀 day Ronnie: you got the accent Ronnie: my head cant do subtitles Joe: not really Joe: not proper Joe: some of my younger ones do but they can barely remember Liverpool Ronnie: nothing to be 💔 about Ronnie: its a shithole Joe: least its a shithole with some history Joe: we moved to a newbuild shithole so Joe: win some lose some Ronnie: your boner for history aint that big Joe: you checked what I'm studying? 😏 Ronnie: you dont post about fuck all else Joe: I'm barely outta freshers let me have it Ronnie: dont give me the flu Joe: thought that was just a euphemism Joe: either way, on my life Ronnie: fuck knows Joe: not as much fun as people chat, shockingly Ronnie: what is Ronnie: the shit that feels good is the shit youre meant to keep your mouth shut about Joe: hear hear Ronnie: 💘 Joe: 💘 Joe: you live there or am I picking you up from a mates Ronnie: neither Joe: alright Ronnie: drop me on the other side Joe: no problem Ronnie: then you can go back to wanking over symphonies Joe: you wanna help me with my homework Joe: so nice Ronnie: what are big sisters for Joe: yeah Ronnie: shits fucked up Joe: right Joe: but you can be more specific Ronnie: nah i cant Joe: don't know where to start? Ronnie: it starts with being born Joe: okay, so the starts the easy bit Joe: the middle Joe: we don't have time Ronnie: we aint gonna trauma bond mckenna youve been beaten to it Joe: ah you got a troubled boyfriend Joe: that's cool Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: you heard me say i aint 12 Joe: you know what I mean Ronnie: not very nancy drew if you reckon im that bitch Joe: we can't both be sid Ronnie: touche baby Joe: 💘 Ronnie: im gonna carve up this cunt if you dont pull me out Ronnie: & thatll make him feel too special Joe: who? Joe: I'm nearly there Ronnie: my not boyfriend Ronnie: dont waste romance like that on strangers Joe: sensible Joe: just carve anything but 💘 and he shouldn't get too clingy Ronnie: whats the symphony that gets you off fastest Ronnie: ill do that Joe: Khachaturian's Sabre Dance works as a play on words and should get him to crescendo 👌 Ronnie: hot Joe: orchestra nerds get all the bitches Ronnie: yeah Joe: you aren't a catfish, are you Joe: I mean, I'll recognize you Ronnie: look for your mas face Joe: fuck it, therapy overdue anyway Ronnie: fuck you for saying that Ronnie: making it go round my head Joe: I shouldn't have said that Ronnie: i should stab you Ronnie: all these pieces of mirror Ronnie: fuck him Joe: you can, long as you keep it shallow, or don't mind swinging by the hospital Ronnie: i dont get my kicks at a&e Joe: you'll have to play nice then Ronnie: youll get too clingy Joe: avoid the 💘 Ronnie: some other bitch can have the honours Joe: or has Joe: don't I seem 💔 Ronnie: dont need to hear how you lost your virginity mckenna Joe: noted Joe: save that trip down memory lane for private time Joe: me and mozart Ronnie: explains a shit ton if the conductor is molesting you Ronnie: but not gonna be the sister who tells him where to put that stick he waves about Joe: Mozart was pretty fucked up but I don't reckon it went that far Ronnie: i dont know him 💔 Ronnie: there was a Moz here earlier fuck knows if theyre any relation Joe: You're more a Liszt type, called it Ronnie: what the fuck kind of fuck you is that Joe: 😂 Joe: actually he's considered the world's first rock star, I was being nice Ronnie: shut up Joe: what, you ain't seen the ken russell film with daltrey in? Joe: have a word Ronnie: get a life Joe: tomorrow Joe: maybe Ronnie: i cant fucking believe it had to be you Ronnie: thank fuck i already aint showing my face here again Joe: thought you said you weren't 12 Joe: but I don't need to come in if you don't wanna be embarrassed in front of your mates Ronnie: i said my mates aint here Joe: no need to tell me why you're there Ronnie: where the fuck are you Joe: just got out, 5 minutes Ronnie: i need to get out Ronnie: move it like Joe: alright Joe: come find me then, make it go faster Ronnie: fucks sake Joe: what's wrong Ronnie: if my body would do what it was told i wouldnt need you Ronnie: cant even paint you a fucking picture Joe: right Ronnie: theres a shit load of stairs yeah Ronnie: i cant do 'em Joe: if you're fat I swear to god Ronnie: calm your tits nancy drew Ronnie: you know thats bullshit Joe: I'll trust you ain't catfishing then Ronnie: thats my next tat Ronnie: all for you baby Joe: sweet Ronnie: hurry up Joe: I am Joe: [show up boy] Ronnie: [when you're just there like damsel in distress which ain't you so it makes it more awks] Joe: [what a first meeting just having to carry her away from god knows where like] Ronnie: [just like we don't know each other but just carry me to your vehicle thanks] Joe: [just doing it silently like this is normal] Ronnie: [since I cant find a pic she should go get that tattoo now just casually drag him along] Joe: [once you get the use of your limbs back lol] Ronnie: [lbr its blatantly someone sketchy she knows the state of them all] Joe: [god bless] Ronnie: [when I know its gotta go on her face somewhere cos #triggered by looking like Tess and I'm just screaming like NOOO] Joe: [my boo is horrified and Joe too] Ronnie: [soz you're so cute bitch and you wanna look so ugly] Joe: [lowkey dread to think how annoying the heal time is on a face tat] Ronnie: [blasting that orchestra bop he mentioned earlier as loud as poss cos yeah you searched for it and yeah you don't wanna hear your thoughts or have a convo] Joe: [when you don't run like you should 'cos you too are a crazy person] Ronnie: [match made in heaven lol] Joe: [🔥😈] Ronnie: [does he have any tattoos I have forgotten] Joe: [Oh, I don't think so??? but he probably would in a self-destructive manner too, as long as they could be hidden like his self-harm like go ahead] Ronnie: [just thinking get one now if you want boy #bonding] Joe: [yolo] Ronnie: [ooh what should it be] Joe: [the real question, hmm] Ronnie: [perfect excuse to be staring at each other while that's happening though cos you can't be moving all about] Joe: [but of course] Ronnie: [Joe can move around more cos not on his fucking head but] Joe: [probably get a cherry or something for the lols] Ronnie: [love that for you Joseph]

[tessa-woods]

General Counsel || Tess Self Para

She had the day after Frankie broke the news about Jacob to her off, so instead of calling her lawyers, she decided to go see them. A giant publishing company meant copyrights, which meant lawyers. And no, the corporate lawyers that made up her general counsel weren’t family court lawyers, but she knew at least one of them had prior experience with it. She’d had Frankie text her a screen shot of the message that Jacob had sent, and she’d dug Charlie’s birth certificate out of the safe to take with her. Coffee in hand, she gets there after dropping Charlie off at school and ducks her head so as to not draw the attention of the receptionists. 

In the elevator, she goes up to the 13th floor of her building. It’s quiet up there, the general counsel offices and HR taking up most of the space. There’s not a lot of traffic, not a lot of people she has to avoid. Swiping her ID, she enters the suite she needs, waving at the receptionist, glad he’s on the phone, heading to the person she needs.

“Hey,” She says, rounding the door. Brooke looks up, surprised. 

“Tess, hey. Wasn’t expecting to see you here...no ones getting fired, are they?” Brooke asks, and Tess shakes her head. 

“No, and it’s not a surprise inspection, either. I need some legal advice. Personal legal advice, not company related,” She clarifies, shutting the office door. 

“Alright...” The blonde trails off, clearly confused.

“I’m engaged. My fiancee and I, we have a daughter--it’s her biological daughter, she’s five. My fiancee was young when she had her, it was a one night stand and she never told the guy, there’s no father listed on her birth certificate, just Frankie--my fiancee.” Tess breathes out. “The one night stand saw our engagement picture, and saw Charlie through a mutual friend on Facebook. He put two and two together and messaged Frankie asking if she’s his. We want to know what to do...how to answer him while protecting our daughter. She’s ours, she’s happy, she’s loved and...we just want to make sure he can’t come after her,” Tess says, grateful for the word vomit for once in her life, taking out the birth certificate and print of the screenshot she’d made, handing them over. 

“Ok...wow, that’s a lot. Is this why you backed off here?” Brooke asks, clearly shocked. “I never had you pegged as a mother type, Woods,” She remarks. “Or a marriage type. What happened to just having fun?”

Tess sighs, irritated. “You were just having fun then, too, Brooke, it’s been four years and we slept together like four times. Can you help me, or not?” She snaps. 

“Yes, of course...sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it, Tess, I’m just surprised,” Brooke says. “It’s good that he’s not on the birth certificate, it makes it harder for him if he’s looking for something. Even if your fiancee says yes, in order to change a birth certificate it would require a paternity test, court orders...it would be incredibly expensive, time consuming, and difficult for him to get anything.” 

“But not impossible?” Tess says. 

“Not impossible, no. But difficult.” Brooke says. “Unless he can prove abuse at the hands of your fiancee or you, it would make little sense for a court to take a child away. It would be easier for him to get joint custody, but again, we could fight it and it would be a long and expensive process for him. It would be pretty difficult for anyone to out lawyer or out money you,” Brooke says. 

Tess nods slowly, jaw tight. “So it would be safe for her to speak to him?” Tess asks, still hoping that Brooke will tell her no, she shouldn’t. 

“Yea, I would say so,” the blonde says with a small shrug. “Whoever this little girl and your fiancee are, Tess--they’re lucky to have you fighting for them. Have you considered a second parent adoption?”

“Yea...yea, it’s on our radar,” Tess says. 

“The sooner you do that, the more difficult it makes it for him.” Brooke shrugs. 

“Great. Thanks, Brooke,” She says, taking the papers back, sighing. 

“Of course. Let me know if I can do anything else.” 

“I will,” Tess says, waving as she heads out, really wishing that she’d gotten a different answer. 

[killervibe]

Lux et Veritas

Chapter 1: Cisco and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Read Prologue here 

Everything was always immaculate here, Cisco thought. How the walls and floors were shining white and polished. The state of the art equipment expensive in a way that had him skittish to touch the first few weeks, afraid of being scolded for using them.

He never was.

The people around him were too busy to take his notice, in their white coats and pencil skirts with heels bustling around him, all doing their jobs, just like Cisco was doing his. And how nice, he thought, getting to do this for real, some day.

Cisco was busy scribbling his signature on the papers, finalizing his last report after the data entry he finished. The lab was near empty, and he glanced around it, committing all the details to memory. He had taken to this lab from the very moment he had been assigned to the department, it had served well this summer as a quiet safe space, a home away from home.

Immersed in his paperwork, Cisco missed the mechanic swish of the automated glass door sliding open, not realizing he had company until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He smiled up at his supervisor, The Dr. Wells. It’s been three months and he still couldn’t believe it.

“Well, it’s three-thirty. You’re done. How does it feel?”

Cisco let go of his pen and sighed wistfully. “Honestly, Sir. Kinda down. I really like it here.”

“I’m glad. You were excellent to work with. I’ve already drafted a glowing recommendation for wherever you choose to pursue your higher education.”

A flush came to his face, and Cisco glanced aside, shy from the praise. 

“Thank you, Dr. Wells.”

“No, thank you. Where are you wanting to go to school?”

Cisco opened his mouth to reply when Tess Morgan sidled up to Dr. Wells’s side.

He wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and she clucked her tongue. “Don’t stress him, Harrison. He still has plenty of time to decide.”

“Well, my girlfriend and I were always planning for an Ivy,” Cisco said. “But I’d also take MIT or Caltech.”

“Engineering, I hope.”

“Yessir.”

Cisco stood up, unclipping his ID. School started tomorrow. Somehow swapping his Star Labs keycard for his old library pass was kind of depressing.

He looked down at it, his laminated card, the serial number they gave him. The picture he had taken on his first day, how he was pretty sure he blinked and yet it still turned out better than any framed Picture Day photograph hanging on the walls at home.

He felt important here. Like he belonged, like someone finally (finally) looked at him and went Yes, you. We like you. You’re good.

Cisco knew he was good, in the back of his mind, front of his mind, whatever. His GPA said so. His report cards said so. Barry said so (Hartley didn't, but who cared about him). Caitlin used to say so. He felt he was good.

Cisco hoped he was good, but was he really? Enough?

Probably not. And still, this taste of a dream, of his future that he so desperately wants to live now already is enough to motivate him to work harder to get it again. Permanently, next time. With his own lab and a desk with his name on it. A degree, a couple of them, with his name in latin script hanging nearby next to a window.

Hold your horses, he told himself. He needed to graduate high school first.

Cisco gave up his ID, handing it to Dr. Wells.

Dr. Wells looked down at the badge, but didn’t say anything for a while.

Tess grinned, “Oh stop with the suspense, look how sad the boy is, just tell him already.”

“What?” Cisco asked, looking back and forth between the scientist and his wife, unfollowing.

“The thing is, Mr. Ramon,” Dr. Wells began, returning the ID, “I’m not sure I want this back. Because the truth is, I’ve grown quite fond of you. And Tess and I were wondering if you’d like to continue shadowing at Star Labs during the Fall. Say, twice a week after school?”

Cisco’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “You want me to stay?!”

“We’d love to have you, Cisco,” Tess finished, beaming. “What do you say?”

“—I’d have to ask my parents,” he said immediately, and he winced at how juvenile that sounded but was relieved to see the two nod in agreement, “But that would be the best thing I’ve heard all summer.”

“Come back sometime next week, schedule an appointment and we can discuss contracts with a legal consultant, and a guardian of course.”

“Thank you so much!”

Dr. Wells shook his head, shooing him out. “Go. Enjoy your last day of summer vacation.”

~.~

Cisco was on cloud nine when he parked Dante’s car in the guest garage of Caitlin’s estate, bouncing on his heels in the elevator.

He fired off a quick text to tell her he made it in, then bounded for her library where he knew she would be memorizing the course outlines for tomorrow’s schedule. He creeped up behind her where she was reading silently at her desk, still a little off guard at all the tin-foil silver in her hair.

He covered her eyes, kissing her cheek and she dropped her pen. “Guess who?” he murmured.

Cisco removed his hands and she turned her head over her shoulder. “Hi.” Her eyes shined bright and soft, blinking at him with easy cheer. He couldn’t keep it in any longer, the news near busting inside him as he rubbed up and down her bare arms excitedly.

“Guess who’s boyfriend just got offered a Fall placement at Star Labs?”

Caitlin gaped, turning around. “Mine?”

“Yours! And Dr. Wells said he already wrote me a letter of recommendation for college!”

Caitlin squeezed his hand. “That’s amazing, oh my gosh! You deserve it!”

He shared her smile, pulling her up from the chair, and turning on the lights. Why she kept herself hidden in the dark alcove with only a window was beyond him when her house was equipped with the best green energy efficient systems on the market.

Her words spread a warmth in his chest and he wanted to believe them, but still, doubt creeped into his mind. His fingers skimmed over her dark wooden desk, focusing on rearranging her gel pens.

“Do you think so, really? All I was doing was writing notes and doing small lab assignments.”

Caitlin folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Stop selling yourself so short. You’re the smartest person I know.”

He looked up at her. "You're not just saying that because I'm your boyfriend so you kinda have to, but really, secretly, like deep down next your dark chocolate obsession you think Lily Stein the smartest?"

Caitlin laughed, swatting his arm like that would smack the silliness out of his head. "I am not obsessed with dark chocolate!"

"Sure you're not," he countered, eyes crinkling when she pressed a kiss to his cheek to distract him from checking her waste paper basket to prove his point.

"Lily's intelligent. Hartley's sharp. But you're my favourite smartypants," she said.

Cisco smirked a little, “You think Hartley got the same offer? Bet he didn’t.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes at Cisco’s ongoing battle with his nemesis, choosing not to comment. “We should celebrate.”

“We should,” he enthused, offering her his arm. She took it, looking at him expectantly. “How about dinner?”

~.~

After food, Cisco took Caitlin to the little dessert shop that overlooked the river. They shared cheesecake and Sprite, clinking each other’s forks.

Caitlin kept looking over at the water, quiet.

She’d been like that, lately, off and on. Like she'd fall into moods where she was afraid to talk.

“Is everything okay?”

She took a moment to respond, scraping cheesecake off the plate. “Fine.”

He gave her a look. Maybe there were things that changed between them. But Cisco will never lose the skill of knowing when she lied. And Caitlin knew that too.

“I’m just—Worried. About school.”

“You love school.”

“I love learning,” she corrected, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t love CC High. Not anymore.”

“That’s fair.”

“I’ve been dreaming about this year since middle school. Starting it with you and applying to college. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long. What if I don’t get into a good school?”

Cisco held his tongue. There was zero chance that Caitlin would be rejected from any university, and, to be frank, there was nothing her mother’s money couldn’t buy. She was a shoo in, has been since Freshman year to all the good schools. And even if she weren't a phenomenal student, legacy alone would admit Caitlin into every college her mother’s research was affiliated with.

He thought about Tess Morgan, and echoed her sentiment. “Isn’t it a little early?”

Caitlin looked out at the water again.

He wondered if her mother was pressuring her. He wouldn't be surprised, school was ramping up soon and with that came a tremendous amount of stress after years of all talk. Maybe Dr. T had finally laid down the law, and it was daunting. Cisco assumed it would be, considering the pressure he put on himself, and he didn't even have anyone counting on him to make it. At least, not until he met the Wells family, and their encouragement had never been coercive. Maybe coercive wasn't the right word. Caitlin's mom was...Intense.

“...Is this about Star Labs? Because I can put in a good word about you with Dr. Wells or help you find—“

He watched Caitlin’s face fall, rushing to deny it. “No, no no. It’s not that. I promise. I don’t mind. You don’t have to do that. I just—I left such a mess.”

Cisco reflected on the past year. She was not wrong. But it was not all her fault.

She gave him a sad smile, “I just wish things didn’t have to change.”

Cisco frowned, sensing she was talking about something a little beyond high school. “They don’t. You’re my forever, Caitlin. Nothing has to change, I’m right here.”

She blinked back tears, shrugging. “I just miss...” she went to her locket. The one she’s never taken off since the funeral. The one with his picture in it, hiding under her dad’s.

His face softened as it clicked. He should've known.

He took her hand, kissing it softly.

“I know.”

~.~

Cisco had a Pop-Tart hanging out of his mouth as he dumped all of his things into his old school bag. He ran a brush through his hair a few times, threw on a light jean jacket, and slung the bag over his shoulder. He bit off another gooey piece before banging on the bathroom door.

“Dante, dios!” he shouted over the loud rush of water. He’s been in there for half an hour already.

“The bathroom! I have to go!”

His mom’s voice called from downstairs. “Deja entrar a tu hermano!”

He rattled on the doorknob, but it was locked. He swore under his breath again, checking his watch. “Dude!”

“Bro, calm down, what the fuck,” Dante groused, unlocking the door with a towel around his waist. The steam went billowing out and Cisco almost choked on the intensity of the deodorant spray.

He pushed past Dante, muttering, going for his toothbrush. He paused before sticking it in his mouth with the toothpaste. “Aren’t you late? Don’t you have an 8:30 class?”

His brother rolled his eyes. “Chill. I’m skipping.”

Cisco’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, spitting into the sink.

“You’re skipping?”

Dante rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, you’re such a nerd. It’s not like high school, dumbass. Everyone skips class in college.”

“Is it recorded?”

“No.”

“Do you have friends in your class to take notes from?”

“No.”

“Are you going to work on another class instead?”

“No. I’m going to watch Netflix then probably take another nap before practice with the band.”

Cisco ran his hand through his nicely done hair. “Dante, I don’t understand you.”

Dante walked across the hall to their shared room, pulling on clothes.

“Don’t worry about it. Have a nice day at school. Kiss all the teacher’s asses for me.”

Cisco pulled himself together, breathing in deeply, reminding himself that he loved his brother and wasn’t allowed to smack him while he glared.

“Can I use your car?” he gritted between his teeth as Dante shuffled his hair some, ruining it altogether.

Dante waved him off. “I don’t use that crap anymore. It might as well be yours.”

He was already texting Caitlin that he was coming to pick her up, his eyes glued to his phone as he walked out the front door when his mother pulled him back by the strap of his backpack.

She kissed both his cheeks, pushing a sandwich into his hands. “Don’t break that attendance record. Give Caitlin a kiss for me.”

“Si,” he replied, waving goodbye at his little sister shrieking his name before he jogged down the apartment steps, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

Why’d his place always have to be so hectic?

~.~

Caitlin kissed him after she slammed the car door close, buckling in her seatbelt, grumbling under her breath.

"Mom troubles?"

"Just drive."

Cisco looked in the rearview mirror as he put the Toyota in reverse.

It was windy in a nice crisp September morning way, and Caitlin rolled down the window.

“You look cute,” he said as he drove off her estate.

Caitlin shrugged, “I wear a blazer every first day. It’s tradition.”

“I’ve noticed.”

It fell quiet. Caitlin wasn’t much of a morning person, and it was the first day of the scariest school year they’d face yet. There was too much going on in their minds for riveting conversations.

Cisco took a swig of water at a red light ten minutes later, stuck in the morning rush hour. He swished it in his mouth then swallowed.

“So I was thinking—”

“I was wondering—”

They both stopped.

“You go first,” Caitlin said.

“I was thinking that maybe you should talk to Barry before the bell. Just to get a fresh start. I can come with you.”

Caitlin curled her fingers around her designer bag, some big brand fashion company with lots of consonants like X and Z’s that Cisco could never remember.

“I don’t want to."

Cisco frowned. “But why? Barry isn’t mad at you, Caitlin. He just wants you to come back. He’s our best friend.”

She put her hand on his arm.

“You’re my best friend. You’re the only one I need.”

“So what, I’m stuck in the middle now? Homeroom to lunch with Barry, fourth period to final bell with you? How is that fair?”

“Actually,” she said. “I was thinking maybe we don’t make that big of a deal of it? Like, do people even need to know that we’re together again? Look what happened last time.”

Cisco narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going. “Caitlin. Everybody loves you. Nobody really loves me. This has already been established after what happened in April. Why does it matter anymore?”

She hesitated, tapping her fingers against the arm rest, leaning her head against the window. “I don’t want you to be a target again.”

“I don’t care,” Cisco said. “It’s just high school crap. I’m hoping we all got it out of our systems junior year. I haven’t kissed you in the hallway for how many months?”

Caitlin smiled down at her lap. “Six.”

Cisco made a disgruntled noise. “Six and a half, actually, but who’s counting?”

“Not me,” she lied.

They shared a glance.

“That’s too long. I’m not letting shitty people with nothing better to do stop me and neither should you.”

“Okay.”

She leaned over and kissed him quickly, then told him the light was green.

~.~

They had four classes together, but not homeroom, so Caitlin and Cisco split ways early on in the morning.

The bell rang, and Professor Stein cleared his throat.

“Welcome students to a bright academic year ahead!”

The class groaned, and Cisco shared an amused glance with Iris.

She leaned in, “Why does he say that every year?”

Cisco grimaced. “Fourth time’s the charm?”

Professor Stein told everyone to settle down as he took attendance, handed out the dozens of photocopied papers that needed their parents’ signatures and read the announcements. Soon enough, the bell rang, and they all got up to get to their first classes of the day.

Iris strapped her messenger bag over her shoulder. She wasn’t in the science stream, so this would be their only time together until humanities and AP English, which they didn’t have today.  

“See you at lunch?”

“Yeah,” he said, then thought of something. “Can you keep an eye out for Caitlin? I’m just—Not sure what she’s thinking she’s going to do.”

“You mean with Lexi.”

He quirked an eyebrow. Students were starting to come in, so Cisco hurried out, grabbing Iris by the hand as the hallways started to flood. “You don’t like her either.”

Iris laughed callously, and they walked to their lockers. “Hell no.”

“Oh thank god,” he breathed, trying to keep up with her quick pace. “I just don’t understand why she won't try to fix things. You haven’t said anything to her, have you? You two aren't fighting?”

Cisco watched Iris hang her coat up. “No,” she said. “Fighting? We're not even talking. Don’t get me wrong. I was pissed last year. What she did was awful.”

He felt the need to defend her, when he knew he probably shouldn’t. Iris must’ve saw the look on his face and rolled her eyes.

“No need to get all Caitlin Snow protection squad on me. I don’t hold grudges like that. I came to the funeral, didn’t I?”

Patty and Linda showed up, tugging Iris away. “Hey, gotta jet, but I’ll try, okay? I’ll do some digging for you. Shawna’s pretty easy to squeeze.”

Cisco wanted to thank her, but she was too far gone, giggling with her friends.

He sighed, standing in the middle of the hall. Without even a second longer to breathe, Jake Puckett barged into him. “Watch it, mosquito.”

“We’re back to that, Jake? Really?” Cisco yelled after him, still getting jostled as the crowd of students thickened in the tight corridor.

Puckett continued his taunting. “You look like a girl. Why don’t you get a haircut?”

“Maybe my girl likes it long dipshit,” he shot back. “Not like you’d know what that’s like.”

That sent Cisco flying into the lockers.

“I deserved that one,” he muttered to himself, trying not to wince at the way the metal hinges dug into his back. He dropped his folder when he hit the wall, his green permission slips about emergency contact information and school behavioural contracts now getting stepped on by careless idiots he called classmates.

He darted between people in the crowd to get them back, annoyed that nobody cared to help him. Then, annoyed that he expected this shit to change now that he was a Senior in the first place.

Just one more year. One more year, Cisco uttered under his breath like a mantra, falling into his ethics class’ front row seat just on time.

Their teacher started sprouting some stupid idea about going around and introducing themselves, as if everybody hasn’t already known each other since elementary.

“Hi? Um, my name is Brie Larvan. And I want to be a beekeeper.”

Cisco rubbed his temples, his mantra intensified.

~.~

By lunch, Cisco was waiting by Caitlin’s locker.

He saw her walk out of history with Lexi and Shawna. She paused at seeing him, her eyes going a little wide.

“Cisco, what are you doing?” she said, looking nervously at Lexi and Shawna, who had their arms crossed with identical bitch faces.

“Lunch?”

“Like, disappear mosquito. She doesn’t want lunch with you.”

Caitlin frowned, opening her locker. She put a new textbook into a top shelf and grabbed her lunch box. “We don't call my boyfriend that. Yes, I do want lunch with him.”

She took Cisco’s hand, and he rose an eyebrow at Shawna, a smidge too smug.

“Sorry ladies, later.”

"Your boyfriend?"  Shawna repeated, jaw dropping open.

Lexi gasped. “Caity!”

He felt her tension just by the way she held his hand. “I’ll see you in class, I’m still sitting next to you in art, just like we promised, right?”

Lexi’s smile looked a little off kilter. “Of course. Right. See you there, then. Have fun with...Cisco.”

Cisco, who had been trying to look anywhere but Lexi, eventually met her gaze.

She gave him a look, sucking lipstick off her teeth. It sent a chill down his spine, and he had forgotten (really, no, he hasn't, he really hasn't) how much he hated her.

She arched an eyebrow high in the air, like she was challenging him to acknowledge her. But Cisco didn't play her games.

He pulled Caitlin away, lacing their fingers together.

~.~

Cisco let Caitlin drag him far from Barry’s table without putting up a fight. In fact, they weren’t even eating in the cafeteria. They sat in the courtyard, watching the soccer team tryouts as Caitlin opened her packed box from her chef.

It was a nice day. Caitlin really did look gorgeous in her burgundy blazer and pleated skirt. It suited her, that classy uniform chic, and for the first time a thought occurred to him that struck odd. Caitlin belonged in a private school. One with 4.0 cut-offs, loads of legacy families, and a hundred thousand dollars for tuition. Dr. T letting her daughter stay in Central City to go to public school was a bit weird. She didn’t really belong here.

Cisco picked at dandelions as they talked, wondering why the grass was so unkept.

About twenty minutes in, Caitlin gave him a sly look.

Cisco looked up from his lunch, knowing that expression all too well. “If you’re going to kiss me, please let me finish my chicken first or else I never will, and I’m really hungry.”

She ignored him completely, prying the plastic container out of his hands. “Hey missy, I said I wasn’t— Mmmph!”

He missed this. He missed her. This Caitlin. His Caitlin.

It was like all the darkness swarming underneath her surface dissipated, and her true light was shining through.

He laughed as she climbed into his lap to kiss him more. They could get demerit points for this, and that heightened the sense of thrill. If they got caught it would be so worth it.

A shrill whistle pierced through the air and the two sprang apart. There was a foul on the soccer field.

“Still hungry?” she smirked with mirth, wiping the rest of her smudged lip gloss off.  

He played with her silvery hair. “Um, yes,” he flirted, catching Caitlin’s heated gaze. “Famished.”

“Good thing I’m here then,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he agreed, inching closer. “Very good,” and slipped his tongue in her mouth.

They made out until the bell.

~.~  

Outside was beautiful and peaceful. Cisco started to understand why Caitlin brought him out there.

“Oh my god, Caitlin! Over here!” Lisa shouted at the door, gesturing wildly at her to come back into the side entrance of school. “Hi Cisco!”

“Hey Lisa.”

Lisa Snart. She was something else, that one. Cute, in a dumb like a rock kind of way.

Maybe that was mean.

Lexi appeared over Lisa’s shoulder. "Come on, Caitlin! We’re going to be late!”

He got up with a sigh, and gave his girlfriend a hand. She took it, hers slender and soft in his, and didn’t let go.

They began walking towards Caitlin’s new posse.

“Why are they so possessive? It’s unnerving,” he couldn’t help but blurt out.

“It’s not me. It’s you. They think—”

“I know what they think,” he snapped, cross. As did everybody, no doubt. Cisco kicked at a littered soda can. “Tell them I didn’t.”

“I tried! They won’t believe me!”

“Then ditch them. It’s not that hard.”

She turned to him sympathetically, kissing him one last time.

“I can’t, Cisco. They’re my friends. I like them.” She untangled their fingers.

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” she insisted. “Stop saying things as if you’re me. I’m me. If they’re my friends then I’m not lying and you have to understand that.”

Cisco felt properly chastened. He took a step back, quiet. “Okay.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

Lisa and Lexi took to each of Caitlin’s sides, linking their arms together. Only Lisa looked back.

~.~

“Where were you? You dipped lunch. Iris said you’d be there.”

It was the second to last period of the day, and it just had to be gym, didn’t it?

Cisco ducked at the incoming fire of dodgeballs. “Yeah, sorry. Caitlin wanted to eat outside.”

A ball rolled to a stop beside him. He picked it up and chucked it, barely getting it past the midline.

The one class he and Barry weren’t good at. So what.

“You mean she didn’t want to eat with me.”

Cisco stopped, looking around. His team was going to lose no matter what.

“I think she’s just really embarrassed. Give her some time.”  

“Time?” Barry exclaimed, nearly getting hit in the face. “It’s been almost half a year! I miss her so bad. She’s in my geography class and she sat next to Bad Luck Becky instead of me.”

“Dude, watch out!”

“Huh?” Barry spun around in the wrong direction, and Cisco cringed as Barry got hit in the back by Woodworth, officially out.

Cisco followed him to the bench, not caring to even pretend he was playing anymore.

“What’s her deal?”

Cisco wrung his hands. “I don’t know. Her dad, I think. It shook her hard, and we weren’t there for her.”

Barry’s fingers were calming on his shoulder, unlike Dante’s, and different from Armando’s.

“Don’t beat yourself up about that. She pushed us away.”

It was easy for Barry to say that. Barry the best friend, their happy third wheel. It wasn’t the same for Cisco. Cisco, who had offered to pick Caitlin up when she fell down the slide in the first grade, who she had won the regional science fair with in grade 3, who she first told when they were ten that her dad was sick, really sick, and I really need a hug.

Barry was always there and supportive and the best friend, but he had Iris. Before him came Cisco and Caitlin. They were a duo, a package deal, each other’s forever.

Even if she pushed him away, even if she hurt him. She never meant to, just as hurt and twice as lonely.

“She needed me and I wasn’t there until it was too late. Now she doesn’t know who to trust.”

Barry reached for his water bottle, taking a long sip.

“So she trusts LaRoche? She knows what she did to you, doesn’t she?”

It was humiliating just thinking about it.

Cisco shook his head. “She only knows that I tutored her for the SATs.”

Three thumps on the back was what it took for Barry to stop coughing, spluttering water everywhere.

“You need to tell Caitlin. ”

“No. Drop it. And don’t tell Iris either.”

“But—”

Coach Adam’s bullhorn blew sharply, interrupting them both.

“— Allen! Back on the court! Don’t make me give you another C!”

~.~

The last class of the day was math with Professor Stein. Cisco had it with Caitlin, and they sat in the front row, scribbling notes furiously to keep up with their teacher’s enthusiastic ramblings. When the final bell rang, Professor Stein called them both to stay behind.

“I’ve got something for my 4.0 lovebirds.”

He leaned behind his desk for two thick envelopes and deposited one in each one's hands.

Caitlin tore hers open quickly, curiosity getting to the best of her. A stack of viewbooks from prestigious schools were freshly pressed, smelling like new paper.

“Straight from the guidance counsellor's office. They’re not yet out on rotation, you see, but I figured my overachieving students wanted a first peak.”

“Oh wow,” Caitlin replied, already looking into the Harvard one. “These have the updated statistics.”

“Of course, my dear.”

Cisco leafed through the schools in his selection, pausing at MIT, eyes lingering on rolling green hills of its campus.

Professor Stein pointed at Cisco. “And how was your internship at Star Labs?”

“The greatest. They want me to continue twice after school.”

“Really now? That’s quite remarkable.”

“Isn’t it?” Caitlin smiled, proud of him. Cisco blushed. “I told him so.”

There was a knock at the door, and Shawna appeared. “Caitlin we need you right now. It’s an emergency.”

Caitlin looked to Cisco.

“I thought I was driving you home. We could look at these together.”

“We really need you, Caity. Becky’s crying. I can drive you home.”

“Tomorrow,” Caitlin promised, squeezing his shoulder, then thanked Professor Stein again for the viewbooks.

Cisco tugged on her blazer for a goodbye kiss, reluctant to let her go. She leaned in, her fingers delicate on his face, smiling against his lips.

Shawna stomped a little, rolling her eyes, “Can we go?”

“One minute,” Caitlin said, looking into his eyes. “We’ll go over our favourite schools tomorrow?”

He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. “It’s a date.”

She grabbed her bag and the envelope, then followed Shawna out the door.

Cisco watched Caitlin scurry after Shawna, who was stomping away in her spiked combat boots.

“I’m glad that whatever squabble you two had seems to be put behind you.”

Cisco turned to their teacher, unashamed that he witnessed him smitten.

“Me too.”

Professor Stein had always been perceptive and easily approachable. Cisco had gone to him in times of trouble in the past four years plenty.

Cisco sat on a desk as Professor Stein tidied up, reflecting. “Sir, how do you help someone through grief?”

His teacher took off his glasses, cleaning them with the edge of his shirt before he responded. “This is about the passing of Dr. Snow?”

Everyone knew. He supposed they had to, not only because Caitlin’s dad had been an active donor and contributor to the restructuring of Central City High’s science stream, but because Cisco guessed it was required for her teachers to take special attention.

“She’s just not the same.”

“She won’t be,” he advised, firm yet gentle. “She lost one of the most important figures in her life.”

The only figure, Cisco thought bitterly, thinking about Dr. T’s suspicious absence in Caitlin’s life. It always made him scratch his head, how two people who lived in the same house could avoid and ignore each other for so long.

If Cisco could avoid Dante, he would.

Maybe it was a matter of the size of the house.

“I want to be there for her, but sometimes I feel like she’s pushing me away. Do I give her that space? Should I be persistent? Love is hard,” Cisco groaned after his monologue, flopping against the row of desks as if he were in a therapist’s office, not his math class. His teacher chuckled at him.

“Ah, but is your affection for Miss Snow difficult to muster? It takes effort for you to demonstrate your care?”

“No,” Cisco protested. “No, that’s easy.”

Professor Stein tapped on his shoes, asking him to get them off the desks.

Cisco's legs swung over the side obediently, and he sat back up.

Professor Stein tilted his head, and Cisco was alarmed to realize how his favourite teacher’s hair was beginning to grey. 

Maybe that’s what made him stand out. After teaching as a professor and publishing his books, he came back to a high school to teach kids because he cared about them. Cisco didn't think he could do that. Lily was really lucky to have him as a dad.

“I know you love her Mr. Ramon. Patience is virtue. You’re astute for a young man of your age. Show her that love the best you can.”

That sounded about right.

“Yessir.”

“Now go home, enjoy those viewbooks.”

Cisco tucked the envelope under his arm, and took his advice.

~.~

Cisco was leafing through the glossy pages of Duke’s viewbook at the kitchen table, trying to concentrate through the constant keyboard banging leaking through the adjacent wall. He wasn’t allowed to ask Dante to be quiet, not even when he had to study and it was one of his pet peeves.

Don’t disturb him, Mama would always say, but his keyboard had an ear jack? Cisco had bought Dante a good quality headset a year and a half ago, thinking it would be a great gift to them both. 

Dante didn’t use them, Cisco bet the wrapping was still on the box, buried somewhere in their closet considering he’s never seen them and it’s not like their room was very big. So who was the one really being unnecessarily disturbed? 

How their neighbours haven't come pounding on their front door yet begging for silence was a mystery to him.

He was just getting into the gritty details of the application requirements when Rosita peered up at him on her tiptoes. Her ten little fingers gripped the table, eyes barely making it past the edge as she pushed herself up to see what Cisco was looking at.

“What are you doing?”

“Leyendo,” he said absentmindedly, showing her the bright graphs. She didn’t reply, and he looked down, how she had zero reaction, then forgot she was still fuzzy on verbs. Forgot that she couldn’t even read yet.

“Reading,” he translated. “For college. See? This is in North Carolina.”

“You’re leaving?” her voice wobbles, thick with hurt. “Like ‘Mando?”

Armando’s been gone at Cleveland State for two years, majoring in business. Cisco’s surprised sometimes that Ro even remembers their oldest brother.

“Not right away. But next year, yeah.”

Cisco didn’t see the big deal. He felt Rosita was pretty lucky, getting the apartment practically to herself. Cisco would have loved to be left alone growing up, not constantly stuck rubbing shoulders with the six people crammed into their three bedroom apartment with nowhere to breathe. But Caitlin and Barry both said growing up as an only child was lonely, wishing for siblings. Cisco wouldn’t know.

“Why?”

“Because I want to go to school, like the one you’re going to start tomorrow,” he explained. He glanced down at the entrance requirements and chuckled at his own analogy. “Except this isn’t kindergarten.”

There was just enough room for Rosita to squeeze onto his seat. He patted the space, and she climbed up with a little "oof” until their thighs were pressed together.

He read to her what was on the page just to keep her busy. It was the pictures she was interested in anyways.

“Where’s Mama?” he asked after a while. They had moved on from Duke to Stanford. Their dad still wasn’t home from work either, but he wouldn’t be, he usually wasn’t at this time.

Rosita shrugged her shoulders and Cisco rolled his eyes at himself, wondering why he expected the five year old of the house to have all the answers.

He slid off the chair, noticing the way she was droopy, her messy black curly hair spilling against the table as she leaned her head against it. 

“Did you have a snack?”

She rolled her head from side to side with a whine. Cisco took that for a no.

He pulled out a fruit roll-up from the kitchen, ignoring Caitlin’s voice in the back of his head warning about high fructose.

After seeing to it that she’s good with opening the wrapper, Cisco knocked loudly on the doorframe of his and Dante’s room. “Where’s Mama?”

Dante kept playing, ignoring him. Cisco marched right over to the outlet and unplugged the keyboard.

“Hey!”

“Yo Beethoven. Were you supposed to be taking care of Rosita? Because I came home to her climbing the curtains, Dante.”

His brother waved him off, “She’s fine.”

“She was hungry.”

Dante glanced up at the clock on the wall.

“Mama went grocery shopping. We’re going to have dinner soon anyways.”

“Not for another few hours, I wasn’t supposed to be home this early. You can’t leave her alone like that she’s too young, and Mama expects us watch her!”

Dante banged his fist against the quiet keys, and Cisco had to keep a straight face at how that looked. “Stop fucking lecturing me, I’m older than you!”

“By a year,” Cisco scoffed. “Don’t go on about being 18 if you won’t even act like an adult.”

“Yeah, because you want to be an adult so bad, Cisco, don’t you? It’s just a number it doesn’t make you older.”

Not for the first time, Cisco found himself missing Armando. Things were easier with Dante when he was around, how he was practical like Dante yet level-minded like himself.

The door slammed loud behind him, frustrated. Dante was Dante. What was he to do? At least he got his car.

Cisco took his stack of books to the living room, wiping off Rosita’s sticky fingerprints from off the Stanford cover and got really interested in Harvard’s crimson booklet.

By dinner, he was excited, sprouting out campus facts as his dad asked to pass the bowl of vegetables.

Rosita kicked her legs in her seat beside him, happily munching away on the roast beef.

“Dude, just. Shut up,” Dante said with his mouth full after Cisco went on a, self-admitting, spiel about Stanford’s aeronautics engineering program.

Cisco narrowed his eyes, defending himself. “I have to apply by November for early admissions. That's two months away. We're talking about my future here.”

His mom and dad shared a look, one Cisco couldn’t decipher. He put his fork down, sensing dread.

“What? I told you, my SAT scores are really high. Maybe not Harvard okay, but MIT, UPenn, I think I have a real shot.”

It went quiet, it was uncomfortable and Cisco felt nervous, like he was the butt of a big joke.

“What?”

“Get that Ivy League crap out of your head, we can’t afford it.”

His mother gasped, hitting his father’s arm.

Cisco looked to Dante, who had his glass paused halfway to his lips.

“What Papa means is we know you talk big plans with tu novia, but where will the money for that come from?”

The words were faint, Cisco feeling a rush in his ears as his mind began to race, trying to compute. "Mama, I don't understand.”

“Those schools sound very expensive, Cisco.”

This couldn’t be happening, he pushed his plate away, sick to his stomach.  “Two years ago you said you had money put away for me.”

“That was before Dante changed his mind about CCU music. And it was never going to be enough for what you’re talking about. We were already tight with Armando’s tuition.”

Dante coughed, nearly choking on the food, startled. “Mama,” he gaped, after a giant swallow of water. “¿Su dinero?”

“He is older, Cisco,” his dad replied, and it was condescending, felt cold like ice down Cisco’s back. “If you want a fancy college you’ll need a job, maybe two. You might have good grades for CC High, but for a full scholarship where everyone is smart? Be realistic, Mijo.”

Cisco’s eyes were stinging, blurring as the weight of their words washed over him, and he was so unprepared, so unbalanced to hear that news, it knocked him over, and now he felt like was going to drown.

"You don't think I'm good enough?"

"That's not what we're saying," his mother corrected, "But we do believe your aspirations are out of tune."

Out of tune. Giving all his college money away to his ungrateful brother, permitting him to Netflix in his room under the guise of studying composition, was out of tune.

He stood up abruptly, not able to stomach any more.

“You used my money on Dante? Dante? Who doesn’t even show up for school? Have I not been clear since I was twelve how much I wanted this?”  

Rosita burst into tears at the volume of his voice, covering her ears. His mother ran to Rosita.

It wasn’t Rosita’s fault. It wasn’t. She was just a child. She was little, but somehow the way his mother ran to her and picked her up adoringly, soothing her whimpering was the last straw, twisting something in Cisco until it bent and snapped.

“You care for everyone in this house but me!”

“Francisco.”

“It’s true!” he cried, and maybe it wasn't, but his world was imploding, and this wasn't his fault, Cisco didn't do anything to deserve this.

He swiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his jean jacket, furious, “You never listen, you never care, you don’t know anything about what I want or am going through, even when I say it. It’s all about Dante or Rosita. You didn’t even care that I was chosen for Star Labs’ internship, how big of an accomplishment that was for me. Or that Caitlin’s papa died!”

“You were at Star Labs?” his father questioned, sliding his glasses up his nose. “Dante did you know this?”

His mother tore her gaze from his sister, stunned. “Dr. Snow?”

Even his parents were out of tune with each other. Out of tune, they said about him going to an Ivy, about becoming an engineer, he still processing it, outraged. Cisco wanted to throw up.

Dante spoke up. “Papa of course I knew he wouldn’t shut up about it. He was gone every day.”

Dante was defending him for once, probably guilty, and he should be, Cisco thought, but that wasn't enough.

He was on a roll, unable to stop yelling, “Armando got everything he wanted! Dante gets anything he asks for, no questions! A motorcycle, he goes and you're all oh, sure Dante, here you go, only pay half. Then he says, Haha surprise, I want to go to college after all, and so you go sure, let us deplete our youngest son's college funds!"

Even Rosita quieted, staring at Cisco.

"What?" she said, voice full of innocence.

His face crumpled, but he refused to break in front of them. "I worked so damn hard, and I get nothing?”

“It is not nothing,” his father scolded in Spanish. “CCU is a fine school, Francisco. You are just prejudiced. Caitlin is a fine girl, but her privilege has gone to your head.”

“That’s not true,” Cisco snapped back, switching languages smoothly. “This has nothing to do with Caitlin. Mama, tell him.”

She lowered her gaze, fussing again with Rosita’s plate, without replying.

His parents’ quietness was all the confirmation Cisco needed. A dark chuckle, more like a huff from a pushed out exhale escaped him, and he shook his head.  

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, looking at the faces of his family. He didn’t even want to be here anymore.

“Well, since I got your attention,” he spat, “I was offered a placement at Star Labs for the Fall for after school. I need a parent to sign the contract with me.”

“¿Se paga?” Is it paid? Mama said.

After all that.

Cisco choked on his answer, already imagining what they were going to say. “No.”

“You’ll have to choose then, what you want more.”

Was this what it felt like? To see his entire future hanging by a thin, loose, unravelling thread? Cisco shouldn’t have to choose. Star Labs was his ticket out of here. Out of this mess, the one outstanding point on his application which would give him those scholarships, that admission.

But his parents didn't understand, and they won't.

And that's what was worse. It was not the lack of money, or that they gave it to Dante (even though that cut deep, and Cisco wasn't quite sure it was something he could ever forgive). He knew that they weren't wealthy, that they were four kids and still not even in a house. But they made it work for their children, set up this illusion, this fake fantasy land Cisco had been living in for years and watched him entangle himself deeply there, plant roots in it, and still never bothered to come clean and correct him.

They watched him grow up and fall in love with math and science--and Caitlin, and get his glowing letters from his teachers and still think the idea of him going away to one of the country's best schools was silly. Childish, like one of Rosita's make believe stories.

How could they see him, see what he's willing to sacrifice, how hard he'll work, has worked, and still be so confident that Cisco was wasting his time?

“I’m going to sleepover at Barry’s,” Cisco announced, too upset to look them in the eye. Too angry to wait and listen to their reply. To be given permission to leave.

They were way past granting him permission to do things anymore, in his books.

Dante tried to pull him back when he passed by, uttered his name, but Cisco pushed, shoving his brother out of his path with a hard glare, poisoned with fiery pain, daring him to say another word.

He didn't wait for the elevator of the building to make it to their floor, just ran down the spiralling steps, all at once, and fled.

~.~

Cisco called Caitlin twice but it went to voicemail. He banged his head against the steering wheel in the humid, sticky old car with the rusted paint and broken AC, keys still in the engine, motor running, stalled in the apartment parking lot, and cried loud ugly sobs.

~.~

Dr. Allen didn’t question why he had to double his pancake recipe in the morning, just ruffled Cisco’s hair and called him and Barry sluggers, and for that Cisco was grateful.

Cisco parted ways with Barry on the Allen's front steps, after he got pulled in for a hug. 

"We'll look at options, okay? Jobs and stuff." Barry cracked a smile. "Maybe we can wait tables together."

"You'd do that for me?" Cisco, asked, pleasantly surprised.

Barry nodded. "I could use some extra cash, to take Iris out and stuff. You want to walk to her house with me?"

Cisco nodded to the Toyota. "Nah, I told Caitlin I'd pick her up this year now that I have the car. I'll see you in school."  

~.~

Cisco sat in his driver's seat, tapping his fingers against the dashboard, still dreary, exhausted, and weighed down, but, hopeful to see the one person who would be sure to make him feel better.

Minutes clocked by and his hope turned to worry, and he wrestled with the idea of unbuckling his seatbelt to see what was wrong.

Because something was wrong. Caitlin was late. And she's never been late in all the years that he knew her.  

She was late and so he was just as relieved as surprised when Dr. T knocked on his window, after walking briskly down her house's long driveway.

He rolled it down, frowning. “Is Caitlin sick?”

“She already left with her driver,” she informed. “She made it clear that she didn’t want to see you.”

It was like being dunked in cold water.

“What?”

“Get to school, Francisco.”

Cisco grabbed his phone in the glove compartment, about to call her, not above believing Carla Tannhauser pulling a fast one on him (she never did exactly like him, but this would've been cruel) when the text came through.

❤ Caitlin ❤ : We're breaking up.

[inkdreamt]

@foundmeincarolinax, a continuation because Tumblr is being stupid

Liv chuckled, nodding.  “Yeah, I think I’m finally starting to realize my ex is right.  I do tend to push personal relationships to the sideline when I’m excited about my projects... though, in my defense, if you’re not excited about acting or singing in something, then why do it?”  She did do that one guest star position on that kid’s show because her little brother begged her, but that was when she was on Hollywood’s burn list.  Now, people trusted her, people loved her again.  Why not be a little selective?

Liv chuckled slightly. “There is like... four seasons right now.  I was only in season one.  Though, from a TV superhero to a real life superhero, I am returning to it.  I’m filming my first scene this weekend, and it’s going to be in, I believe, the last episode of this season, and then start as a season regular next season.  I’m still going to play as Tess, but Tess is... a little different from what you would remember.  I mean, who can blame her, she died at the end of first season?”

Liv smiled broadly as she heard him say she did great at portraying someone with powers.  “You can thank my sister for the representation.  I was going to kinda do more of the ‘Superman’ approach, because that’s what most superhero shows have their heroes act like, but she sat me down and really helped me understand Tess, since she’s a big time fan of the comics.”

And then she felt her phone start to vibrate.  She had most people on silent when she was in a studio or rehearsal, or even an actual show.  But she kept her family on vibrate in case of emergency.  They knew she was suppose to be too busy to talk right now. So, hesitantly, she pulled out her phone.  Her mother’s caller ID.  That was really weird, she had gone back to her school position when she moved back to Wisconsin.  It was the middle of the day, she shouldn’t even be on her phone at all.  So, she answered it.  “Mom?  Is everything okay?”  The background noise certainly didn’t sound like a school.  More like... a hospital?  A moment later, her eyes widened in shock, horror, dare she say it fear.  Her free hand covered her mouth, her mind reeling.  “I’m going to... I’m going to do what I can to clear my schedule.”  There was no way that she was going to be able to focus on performances with this news, anyway.

After a few more words with her mother, she hung up, stuffing her phone back into her pocket, not even fully aware of the fact that she started pacing.  And far less aware of the fact that her hands were giving off blue electricity.  It was going to take so much time to get some time off of her various jobs to get to Wisconsin, and part of her was more interested in just leaving now and dealing with the consequences.  But no, she knew she had to do the adult thing, it was just... hard when all of your brain was focusing on the fact that your identical twin was fighting for her life.

[theres-no-paradise]

Sorry not Sorry

Chapter 8  Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 9 

Summary: A random number wakes you up early on a Saturday morning. But it doesn't stop there. The stranger keeps on sending messages, and you have no idea what is happening, when you start to develop feelings for the unknown person.

Pairings: Tom Holland  x Reader [submit your name: How it works]

Y/N your Name

Y/F  your friends name

Word Count:  1932

Warnings: There will be swearing for sure, lots of sarcasm

A/N: Chapter 8 is done! A little late, sorry for that, but I hope you like it. We are slowly working our way towards the main plot, so stay tuned on the upcoming chapters. Feel free to let me know what you think, too! Im so Happy about all the feedback I get. It really helps me to stay motivated and write for you :)

It was a day after the Incident in the pub and you were laying in bed and staring at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity. Your phone was on the nightstand next you, silent since the last message from the night before. The only sound in your home were loudspeakers, playing some music from your Spotify playlist.

‘Things will happen while they can, I will wait here for my man tonight. It's easy when you're big in Japaaaan. Oh, when you're big in Japan, tonight Big in Japaaaan, be tight. Big in Japan, ooh the eastern sea's so blueee’, you sang along and tried to not think about your embarrassing encounter with Tom. Afternoon was slowly creeping by and you didn't do anything all day until your phone buzzed for the first time that day and you turned over to grab it from the stand.

The Spiderman: I’m leaving in two days to Montreal. Wanna meet up properly this time?

You immediately sat up straight in your bed, staring at the message that came from Tom. You giggled a little at the new Nickname in your contacts. The whole situation seemed to be unreal, you still couldn't imagine that the Tom Holland was the person who messaged you by accident. And yet here you were, reading a message from him once again.

You: I swear, I’m living in a fanfic or something …

The Spiderman: ?

You: Nevermind lol . Yes, I’d like to meet. Any idea what to do?

The Spiderman: Do you like dogs?

You: Positive.

The Spiderman: Fancy a walk in the park with me and Tess?

You jumped out of your bed and ran over to your wardrobe to get some clothes, at the same time you typed in your response. A walk in the park sounded just great for a sunny afternoon date. Meet? Just a walk? What were you supposed to call this? You were unsure if this counted as a date or not so you just shoved that thought into the darkest corner of your mind and chose some casual clothes. Jeans and a simple T-Shirt would do for a walk in the park.

You: Sure! Where and when?

The Spiderman: Richmond Park. And whenever you’re free

You: I’ll get ready and let you know when I’m about to get on the train.

You showered, dressed up and put some decent make up on your face before you rushed out of your apartment. Usually it took you a little longer to get ready but this time you didn't want to waste any time. What was happening with you?

The Spiderman: Alright. Ill pick you up from the Station.

You: Omw. See you!

The Spiderman: in a bit! X

The time on the train passed by quickly and you arrived in no time at the station, that was closest to the Park. You’ve been here before, so this area was familiar to you as you got out of the train to meet Tom, you remembered the buildings and surroundings.

“You look nice”, was the first thing, Tom said and immediately you felt your ears turn red and warm. You hoped for your cheeks to stay pale.

“Thank you. Even though I’m not wearing anything special”, you laughed, a little nervous.

“But you still look nice.”

“Thank you Mr. handsome”, another giggle escaped your lips as you approached the pair. You embraced Tom in a hug, before turning all your attention to the dog, that was sitting well behaved next to him. “And who are you?” you asked even though you knew Tessa already from Photos on the internet. You stroked her chin and head before getting up again. “That’s my dog, Tess”, Tom answered and you smiled, giving the dog one last pat on the head. “She’s gorgeous. Take good care of her or she might be gone later”, you joked, smiling wide. “You think someone could steal her?”, Tom wondered and motioned you to follow him out of the building. “Oh absolutely”, you grinned, winking at him. ‘It’s easier than I expected’, you thought to yourself as you walked next to the guy you’ve been talking to for the past few weeks. After the incident in the Pub, you were over thinking so much about your behaviour earlier. That you weren't even capable to say a proper word. You believed, that meeting him again would be so awkward after the first encounter but you were glad, that it wasn't as you expected it to be.

“Wanna hold her?”, Tom’s words threw you out of your train of thoughts and you stared at the leash for a second before realizing what he was saying. “Sure”, you answered while taking Tessa’s leash, holding onto it tightly so you wouldn't lose it because of your clumsiness. “So, how was your day?” Tom asked casually, as you walked in the direction of Richmond Park.  

“It was good. Silent and nice and yours?” you didn't tell him the part where you stressed yourself out because he asked you to meet. You tried to play it off cool.

“I had a few interviews this morning, so I’m a little tired”, he admitted, with a small smile on his lips.

“You should rest. You’ll be busy again once you're back at work”, “But that’d mean I’d miss some quality time with a certain girl”, his laugh made you look up to him with a questioning look on your face.  

“Oh you can just hang out with your dog all day at home?”, you joked, totally getting his saying.

“You're a dork”

“Naaah, I got your intention”, winking at him you walked a little faster so that you could reach the park and let Tessa run. “But I just don't like to play hah”, you added.

“No games here any way!”  

You both walked through the park, enjoying the summer sun on your skin. You let Tess run around freely, make her get the sticks you threw or play fetch with her ball. Tom was looking at you many times in silence, you felt it but you didn't say anything. The silence between you two was nice and not awkward at all and you enjoyed the attention you got from him, even if it was him staring at you.

“Would you have ever imagined us to actually meet?”, the brunette asked after a while as you decided to walk back slowly.

“To be honest, no.”

“Why?” “I don't know. I think I was scared? If you would've asked to meet before we saw each other in the pub, I would have declined”, you admitted.

“Hmm”

“I didn't know what to expect. Sure it somehow excited me because I actually enjoyed your texts.”

“Oh, you did? I knew it!”, Tom laughed and you joined in.

“Sure I still do. But whenever I tried to imagine our first meet, I couldn't”

“I understand. It's hard to think of someone when you haven't even seen their face before.”

“Exactly, but now I'm kinda glad we met.” your words weren't louder than a whisper but Tom seemed to understand everything without a problem. “So am I!”

You kept strolling through the park, talking about everything that came up to your mind. Tom asked you about your job and what you did in your free time, except for texting him. And you asked him the same. Especially about the past weeks as he was traveling the world. He told you about all the places he went to and you were in awe. You liked the glimmer in his eyes as he talked about traveling to all the places he hasn't been before. “Are you excited for Montreal?” “Oh absolutely. It’s gonna be busy with all the work there but I'm looking forward to it” he was genuinely excited, you could tell and suddenly there was a weird feeling in your chest. As something was stinging you.

“I'm a little jealous, I admit”, you said, laughing a little.

“Oh, I’ll bring you something or sent you a card if you want!” Tom suggested and you shrugged.

“No, you're busy enough. You don't need to get me anything” ‘please do bring me something’, you thought to yourself.

“I’ll do it anyway. No discussion” ‘Yes!’

You were slowly approaching the Neighbourhood with the train station just around the corner and it made you a little sad that the day was about to come to an end. “Wanna stay for dinner?”

“I’d love too but I don't want to-” you couldn't finish your sentence which was pretty much about bothering him more. Tom must’ve felt this because immediately he said: “Okay, come on, we’re getting Dinner at mine!”

“I hate you so much.”

“I know.” You both laughed once again. As you did many times this day.

There was tons of Chinese takeaway spread out over the small table in the living room. You sat on the brown sofa, legs crossed and a box with rice and chicken on your lap as you watched Sons of Anarchy on Tom’s big, old TV. When will he get a new one anyway? This model seemed to be from the early 00’s.

“I enjoyed today a lot. Thanks for inviting me over.”, you mumbled shyly, after finishing your food.

“It was my pleasure. We should hangout again sometime” Tom suggested as he stuffed some more noodles into his mouth. You smiled softly and nodded: “Id actually like that a lot, Tom.”

“Good, maybe I can make some room tomorrow?”, he wondered and you felt your cheeks warming up the probably hundreds time this day. But last minute you remembered, that you were  and not able to hang out.

“I'm afraid I'm busy. Can't miss my meetings”, you shrugged. You would’ve loved to hang out with him, but work was calling for you and you couldn't just call in sick because of some random guy. Okay, Tom wasn't random at all but still, calling in sick just for him to meet up with you wouldnt work.  

“What a shame.”

“Just give me a call once you're back in town and I make sure to make time”

“Sounds like a deal”

After you boarded the train, you sat on a free place next to the window, as it started to move towards your destination. You recalled the past hour and felt the heat overcome your body once again, as your mind wandered off to the brown eyes that stared at you for the millionth time that day. You remembered how Tom’s arm felt behind you, as he rested it on the back of his sofa. His fingers slightly touching your shoulder as you scooped up a little closer to him, trying to not make it too obvious that you enjoyed his little touches. There wasn’t much interaction between the two of you while watching Tom’s favourite TV show, which you learned that night. It was just the two of you, enjoying a Series and being close to each other. It wasn’t awkward or weird in any way, just nice and comfortable over all. Deep down you wished, that he would’ve made a bigger move and one thing could’ve led to another but that would either mean you’d become friends with benefits, which you obviously didn’t want, or just a one time fling and he’d be gone forever because you couldn’t look him in the eyes once again. You liked the slow pace, you both unconsciously decided to have with the whole ‘getting to know’ scenario and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. But there was one thing worrying you: The Distance.  

Taglist:  @hollandorks  @beardedsteveslut @ilivefortomholland @casualprincess77 @agirlwithpointlessideas @isabellamozarella03 @MENDES-HOLLAND @thiswildfire @wastedheartnat @hollandbaby @moonofmy-life @smileylaurens @random-fandom-lady @heartoftheadventure @blackazkaban @augurydemon @homecomjng @punkass-potato @unfoldingdaydreams @thefriendlyneighborhoodspidey @rivedale @tiffanypooh

[ynsimagines]

Supergirl: Tessa Danvers: Chapter 1

I don’t own supergirl, the only charcter that’s mine is Tessa. Without further ado meet Tessa Danvers, everyone.

I sighed as I looked up at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. I was in my last class of the day, and couldn’t wait for it to end. I was in my sophomore year of college, and sometimes I wondered if I was wasting my time maybe I should just pursue make-up and you-tube full time. Though I knew my mother and sisters would kill me if I did that. Hell, they didn’t even know about the whole you-tube thing. After what felt like another year class finally let out. I looked at my phone I realized I had a text message from Kara. “Your going to help me get ready tonight, right?”

I rolled my eyes slightly over the fact that she even asked that question, and resisted the urge to say “duh”.

I choose to say “Of course” instead.

I arrived at the apartment Kara and I shared, “thank Rao, your here, I have no Idea what I’m gonna wear.”

“The dilemma of every women that’s ever gone on a date.” I sighed, “but come on lets see what you’ve got.”

.

We had narrowed it down to a couple of different options when there was a knock. Kara opened the door to reveal our older sister Alex with a very serious look on her face.

“I have a conference in Geneva and I need to be on a plane in 2 hours.”

“And I have a blind date in a half an hour and I need you both to help me pick out what to wear.” Kara exclaims.

“Why do you have to do this to me, and Tess?” Alex grins walking into the apartment.”

“Because your my sisters, and you both love me.”

“Your right,” I nodded. “We narrowed it down to two choices.”

Somehow the process of Kara picking out an outfit for her date turned into discussing her early mid-life crisis. So Kara ranted while me and Alex tried to decide between the blue or the coral shirt.

“You always wanted to be normal.” said Alex.

“Yeah, having a crappy boss, and nothing to wear this is what normal looks like,” I added. Although if I was being honest it was always pretty sad to me how Kara decided not to use her powers.

"Kara, you’ve got a good job, you’re cute,-”

“Yeah, and thanks to your alien DNA you can’t get pimples.” I said, causing Kara to giggle.

“I want food, is pizza ok?” I asked heading into the kitchen.

“Yeah, you know the number.”

By The time I got back I noticed that Alex helped Kara make her final decision, and was getting ready to leave.

“Stay out of trouble, do your schoolwork, and I’ll call you when I’m back.” She said hugging me “Love you kiddo.”

“Love you too sis.”

“Tess, I need help,” I walked over to kara, and took the hair tie from her leave it down. I finger combed my fingers through her hair before moving it all to one side.

“Perfect,” asked Kara.

“Yeah.”

“Perfect,” asked Kara.

“Yeah.”

“Yes, do you have any idea how amazing you currently look?” I exclaimed.

At that she smiled, “thanks, I have no idea what id do without you.”

“Keel over, and die, so you’re gonna have a good time on your date, and when you get back I wanna hear all about it.”

“Yeah, okay.” She said giving me a hug and a kiss, “Don’t touch the pizza till I get back.”

“No promises.”

.

A couple hours later I was sitting on the couch eating a piece of pizza, and editing my latest video when Kara came back into the apartment covered head to toe in water. I stud up from the spot, my eyes widened at the sight of kara.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“I promise I’ll tell you in a second, I just really need to change out of these clothes.”

I turned on the tv while I waited for Kara when the news caught my attention. Too my shock they were talking about a plane crash, with no one other then my sister standing on top of the plane.

“Well I guess I don’t need to explain anymore.” Before I knew what I was doing I latched on to Kara hugging her tightly.

“I’m so proud of you,” I said trying not to get overly emotional.

“Really?” she asks almost in tears like I am.

I nodded, “Ever since you got here you’ve wanted so badly to help people, and tonight you finally did that.” I told her.

Kara smiled at me, “thanks Tess,” she said pulling me in for another hug, and kissing the top of my head.

“Now come on I’m starving,” sh said guiding me back over to the couch.

“Yeah, saving an airplane tends to work up an appetite,” I joked causing Kara to give me a playful nudge.

.

“Guardian angel or human wrecking ball?”

“What?” Kara gasped out, I gently patted her on the back to try and calm her down, of course not everyone’s gonna have something nice to say, but Kara proceeded to stand up and yell at the t.v. causing me to roll my eyes.

“Oh my god.” We both turned around in surprise to see Alex standing there. She clearly wasn’t happy, but Kara was oblivious as she excitedly ran up to Alex and went on one of her rambles.

“Are you okay?” asked Alex.

“Me?, Am I okay, are you okay?”

“Wait why wouldn’t Alex be okay?” I asked confused. My oldest sister looked at me for a minute knowing I would figure it out when it hit me.

“Oh my god, you were on that plane,” I said in shock. My legs started to feel like jelly, like they wouldn’t be able to hold me up anymore.

"Tess, I’m okay” said Alex putting her hands on my shoulders in reassuring big sister mode. I nodded feeling only little better, but putting on a brave face.

“Kara, what were you thinking?” There it is I thought to myself.

“You exposed yourself, everyone will know about you, and you cant take that back.”

“I don’t want to this is what I was talking about, Alex” said Kara. “I didn’t travel 2,000 light years just to be an assistant.”

‘That’s for damn sure,’ I thought to myself.

“I’m gonna go to bed, I just carried a plane on my back.” said Kara sadly walking off to her room.

"What the hell, Alex?” I asked. “You and I both know how lost that girl has felt since she arrived here.”

“Its not safe for her to be out there,” argued my oldest sister.

“She’s basically indestructible,” I said, getting angrier and angrier by the second.

“Yeah, basically being the key word there.”

“I’m gonna go before I say something I regret,” said Alex walking out of the apartment before I could do anything to stop her.

So what do you guys think, let me know if you have any questions or suggestions.

[commenter2]

Jak & Daxter game(s) finale idea (part 2)

Part two of my Jak and Daxter finale. This one is focused on the story of Jak 4

The game takes places a few years after the gangs last adventure and many things have happened since then, there is plenty of eco to go around even light eco, there is better communication between the cities of the world, even a teleportation system making it easy for people to get from one city to another, and a lack of monsters making the planet pretty peaceful. Our favorite characters have also had some big things happen to them, Jak has been dating Keira for a few years now, Keira is close to being an eco sage (if LF is canon), Torn and Ashelin have gotten married and had a few kids, and throughout the game(s) Daxter and Tess talk about getting ready for there upcoming wedding, though Daxter’s still the lovable goof we all know though trying to stop his “good looks” from attracting the ladies.

Things seem good until Jak and Daxter are called to stop some weird creatures near the city (maybe Haven City, doesn’t matter) giving us the tutorial level. After that they go back to the city but that’s when things get interesting as they see a giant meteor heading towards them, Jak tries to use a replica of Mar’s defense system to stop it but discover its been sabotage while he was out. Luckily the meteor missies the city but its then revealed that it isn’t a meteor at all but a giant damaged Dark Maker ship that is releasing pods everywhere, some of which crash into the city and releasing creatures from earlier which Jak and the other must fight, teaching the player how to use the morph gun and Dark and Light form Jak. After taking out the creatures, Jak and some of the other characters decide to head towards where the ship crashed.

They get there and after fighting through the creatures that live in the area and the ship’s defenses, they see one of the ship’s computers is still working but blocked off so Daxter has to go in and check it out, getting a recorded message from it and showing it to the others where it projects a message from a Dark Maker. Fans debate on what the Dark Makers look like, some say the Trooper enemy from Jak 3 were them who some say those were just robots or cybernetically enhanced ones, I tend to believe that they were just machines used by the Dark Makers, so for the story I made my own idea for what I think they could look like. I see the Dark Makers having a reptilian like form, a contrast to the Precursor’s mammal like appearance, being almost as tall as Jak’s species. There skin is dark like the dark eco they use and have jagged tails and sharp claws and teeth.

Jak and the others watch the video of the Dark Maker leader named Flak saying all survivors should meet at one of the following places, revealing a map. The gang decides to go to one of theses places and are shocked that the closest place is at Misty Island. Jak and Daxter go there, dealing with enemies and referencing the events of Jak 1 but soon realize that the place has new equipment meaning the Dark Makers and the troops are up to something. They eventually hide when they hear Dark Maker troops taking orders from two voices and are shocked to see that the ones giving orders are Gol and Maia, the villains from the first game.

The two villains returning would be an intriguing idea as since they were the first villains Jak and Daxter fought, it only be poetic to make Jak and Daxter fight them again in there last adventure, plus there return was hinted at in Jak 3 so don’t NG go through with the idea ? I do seem them with different designs, for Gol I see him being older looking but with a strong build and very mutated, having some aspects of Dark Jak and the Dark Makers, like claw like nails and black eyes. Maia on the other had I can see having a similar look as in Jak 1 but in Jak and Daxter style maybe having a bigger chest and a more revealing outfit, hey with Tess being an Ottsel and the possibility of Keira wearing something like in Lost Frontier someone’s got to pick up the lack of fanservice XD, plus its been confirmed that she uses Dark Eco to make herself look younger, maybe this is a result of hiding her mutations. Jak and Daxter are quickly captured and brought to them where they give a brief story of what happened to them.

For years they were stuck in the planet’s catacombs, mutated by all the dark eco there but in a good way as it slowed down there aging and gave them more power then before and were eventually able to contact the Dark Makers down there who made the two there champions, like what the Precursors did with Jak. They also say that the Dark Makers are on the brink of extinction thanks to Jak's actions in Jak 3 but Gol says the siblings and the Dark Makers have a plan to fix this but don’t tell Jak and Daxter as they plan to kill them. Jak gets mad and turns into Dark Jak but Gol and Maia aren’t impress as they turn into dark forms of there own and easily stop him and knock him into an arena, leading to a boss fight with a powerful soldier. After defeating the boss, Gol tells his troops to kill Jak and Daxter but they are saved by Torn and Ashelin as they all escape, but not before Daxter grabs something that Gol dropped during the chaos. Maybe we can get a turret section during a chase scene ?

After getting to safety Daxter shows the others a data disk he got which the other try and decrypt, but while that’s happening Jak and Daxter do a few missions like stopping a Dark Maker eco mining site and battling waves of enemies who are attacking a city. Eventually they team decrypt the data and discover the antagonist plan.

Turns out the villains are trying to find an ancient temple built for the purpose of making white eco, a very rare and much more powerful form of light eco that is only made when you combine the right amount of the 4 types of eco, too much of one and you get light eco. This might help or hurt the games canon but the light eco Jak used to easily defeated Gol and Maia the first time could be labeled as white eco while still being light eco. So throughout the game Jak and Daxter have to travel the world in order to find the temple and prevent the Dark Makers from using it to for their plans. The disk also says that the villains have discovered several devices made by eco sages and the Precursors that can help them create white eco and search to retrieve them at some points of the game, kinda like all the side missions in Jak 2 and 3.

I can see some other minor plot stories happening in the game like along the way the gang learn that Mar had a connection to the temple somehow, learning more about Mar himself even getting a decent picture of him, learning more about the process of being an eco sage as Jak meets some along the way who teach him how to harness the power of other ecos and what happened to the sages in this future, and learning more about eco , the dark makers, and the Jak and Daxter world itself from Precursor statues with recorded messages you can find and listen to. Jak and Daxter.

However two side plots Id like to see is one where Jak and Daxter meet a Dark Maker minor character who is a bit nicer then the others, showing a great sense of honor and respect for his enemies and another where Jak and Daxter fight with each other, damaging there friendship. The latter could be about how after many years, Jak is tired of Daxter’s irresponsibility and attitude as maybe Daxter has endangered them and the others on several occasions in the game yet when he finally lashes out at Daxter he is in the wrong as he does it after his anger as Dark Jak almost got Tess killed. It’d be a lot like how Ratchet & Clank were against each other in there first game and/or Tools of Destruction. However after learning that Mar was best friends with a Precursor who taught Mar all he knew in order to become a great inventor but who’s death changed Mar forever, the two make up.

I’m gonna stop right here and post the rest in part 3 but what are your thoughts so far ?