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theramseyloft · 3 years

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Cognitive and social information to make selecting, bonding with, and training your pigeon easier:

There are lots of things I can go into more detail on, but here are the hows and whys of pigeon cognition and sociology that form the basis of our research into communication and Therapy work, laid out as a guide to building your relationship with your bird, starting with generalities universal to the species, and ending with an in depth look at the mechanics behind the typical behaviors and temperaments of cocks vs hens and what to expect.

Though they are extremely social outside nest space, Pigeons, whether cock or hen, are life-or-death viciously territorial of their specific nest space.

For reference:

A free flying bird with no cage considers nest space to consist of the actual nest and about their own body length around it.

Because they are crevice nesters, a pigeon with an enclosure considers the entire enclosure to be nest space.

Only a pigeon's mate is allowed to enter their nest, and that's exclusively by invitation.

Peeps are hatched into it, and once they wean, they are not allowed to re-enter.

Anything entering their nest space that is not that bird's mate is instinctively considered to be either a predator, or a rival.

A rival won't eat them, but is coming explicitly to attack them to drive them out of a good nest, which will involve killing their nestlings if they have any.

So, to avoid triggering the predator/rival defensive response, it's important to open your bird's enclosure to invite them to come out on their own terms when you want to spend social time with them.

This rewards their natural curiosity and makes you feel more like a cohabitant/potential flock mate than a potential predator or attacker.

While your bird is out exploring, you can strengthen your bond with them by treat priming; Address them by name, ask "Want a treat?" and toss a safflower seed in front of them, but not straight at them. Praise them when they eat it with something along the lines of "Yes, that is for you! Good bird!" in a pleased tone of voice. (even birds who hate handling and refuse treats respond positively to a pleased tone of voice.)

Calling their name every time primes them to look at you when you address them.

Little by little, as they get comfortable with the distance, you should be able to toss treats less and less far from yourself.

The end goal is for your bird to come into willing physical contact with you.

From there, you can start offering a treat on the tip of one or two fingers.

Once the bird is reliably accepting that, offer the treat held by the narrow end between your thumb and index finger.

This makes your hand more similarly shaped to the head of a bird than the scary giant talon with extra toes or giant snake it usually looks like to a bird.

In every flock of pigeons, there are at least one or two teen or older birds that will feed any weaned baby that cries.

I call these "Flock Aunties/Unkles", and this is the mantle you take up for your bird once they get they hang of hand feeding.

It's best to start having out times in the evenings, so that bed time is after dark. Lights Out training makes returning them to the enclosure less stressful for both you and your bird.

When you want to put the bird away, address them to get their attention, and say "Lights Out or Bed Time soon!", wait about 10 seconds, Then walk over to the light switch, make a note of where your bird is, repeat "Lights Out/Bed Time now", and flick off the lights.

Pigeons are diurnal and non-migratory. They can't see in the dark, and just sort of turn off.

This differs from the learned helplessness shut down in being instinctively associated with sleep, rather than inescapable distress.

In the dark, you can pick up your bird and gently return them to the enclosure without the stress of having to chase and catch them.

After a few repetitions, birds that don't enjoy being carried to bed will use the ten or so seconds between "soon" and "now" to fly back to their enclosure on their own. Birds that do like being carried will assume the position and wait for you to turn off the light and carry them.

There is no getting around the fact that feeding, watering, and cleaning require you to reach into your pigeon's enclosure, and if you can't do that while they are out (for example, if you feed in the morning before leaving for work) you can help them overcome their defensive response by talking them through what you are doing without reaching for the bird themself.

"It's food time. I need your dish." while reaching in only as far as needed to remove the dish, and withdrawing with it as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. Same for the water dish, and talking them through cleaning.

For example, the floor of my hospital cages slide out, so I tell the birds "I need your floor." and then repeat "Back up, back up, back up" in a soft, encouraging tone until they are off, then praising with "Thank you!" to signify they have done what I asked and I will not bother them now until time to put the floor back in.

When the floor is cleaned and repapered, I tell them "Here's your floor back." and repeat "Step up." as I slide it in until they have both feet on the floor.

When I have finished cleaning, watering, and feeding (All three get done at once for the hospital cages) I signify to the bird that it's over by "Ok! We're done now!" and then praising "Good bird! Thank you."

It's important to talk them through EVERYTHING because they are literally five-year-old-child intelligent.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/02/090212141143.htm

Pigeons and baboons have similarly high cognition.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/12/171204144805.htm

Pigeons have an innate understanding of the concepts of space and time.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/04/140402095107.htm

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2007/02/070220131646.htm

They categorize like we do.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/07/130717095336.htm

Their brains are wired similarly to ours.

https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/s13295-014-0057-5/html

So much so that they are considered an excellent model in the study of cognitive neuroscience

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0197458019304270

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0166432814007554

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0166432820306471

With TONS of alzheimer-specific research

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/04/110411171847.htm

Their facial recognition is similar to ours.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/07/110703132527.htm

They recognize humans as individuals.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2012/06/120622163056.htm

By both face, and voice.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/06/080613145535.htm

They surpass the ability of human children up to three years old to recognize that their reflection in a mirror is their own reflection, and not another bird.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/02/150204184447.htm

They can learn the equivalent of words by the same mechanic as human children.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/09/160919111535.htm

They can learn to differentiate a written word from an acronym with the same number of letters.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/04/170418094512.htm

And flocks build what can legitimately be called a culture by building knowledge across generations.

The take away from this is that pigeons are intelligent enough to learn what your communication means, and can be taught by the same mechanic as a human toddler.

Language is a pattern of matching words to objects, actions, individuals, places, and concepts. Pigeons are pattern mappers, hard wired to latch onto stable patterns.

It is vitally important that you talk a pigeon that you are training through absolutely everything, the way you would a toddler who hasn't quite gotten that word down yet.

They can eventually learn to answer yes and no questions, if you give them a template. (this is already going to be enough of a novella, I can go into detail about that later.

A pigeon flock is basically one gigantic extended family living together in their equivalent of an ancestral apartment complex.

Pigeons only join a flock by hatching or marrying into it.

Pigeons are one of extremely few species that remain year round in the same breeding colony AND cooperatively forage; not just all going the same place, but actively voting on what to look for, how to best get there, and how to best get back.

Babies only rarely leave the flock.

When they leave the nest, they are taught by their fathers to be pigeons for the first month or so. Where safe food and water are, how to find nest materials, how to defer to a higher ranking flock member.

The rest of the flock line up to each teach the peep that they are higher ranking than the peep. (Peeps instinctively expect this hazing and are very skittish from five to eight weeks of age)

At about eight weeks, the peep is as big as it will get, and starts to earn their place in the hierarchy by experimentally pushing back against the older birds to see who gives and who won't.

By four or five months, the young bird has a solid place in the hierarchy, has found out what it's good at, and has usually won a mate.

At this point, a cock earns the right to claim a nest space among his parents, grand kin, aunts, unkles, cousins, and so-on.

Young pigeons only leave their flock to form a new one if there aren't enough nest spaces or isn't enough food to support every one.

So stability and finding a place in the social dynamic are EXTREMELY important to them.

Pigeon Flocks are democratic meritocracies.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/04/100416214045.htm

They vote on everything they do as a group

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2006/11/061106145043.htm

Parties with differing opinions compromise.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/06/150609213053.htm

Because they need to be able to depend on the support of their flock mates to cooperatively find resources, watch out for predators, and navigate home.

https://www.audubon.org/news/in-homing-pigeon-flocks-bad-bosses-quickly-get-demoted

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/09/160914143044.htm

Pigeons will not follow a leader they can't depend on, be that due to a loss of capability, or an unwillingness to heed cast votes or attempt to compromise.

This adds up to a bird that is hard wired to expect a say in everything they are involved in and be keenly, my-life-depends-on-this aware when their say is being ignored.

Pigeons do not have a concept of “Reasons I could not discern”.

If they can’t discern a reason you ignored their vote or any attempt to compromise with them, they just think there wasn’t one, and you're either incompetent or being an ass hole.

And Pigeons consider themselves to be well within their rights to refuse to cooperate with an incompetent ass hole.

This is a BIG part of why talking them through everything is so vitally important.

Pigeons are EXTREMELY communicative.

Once they trust you as a flock mate, The more they understand about what you are doing, what you want them to do, and how that affects them, the more willing they are to cooperate with you.

Those are the cognitive universals.

When selecting a companion or therapy animal, it’s important to know what temperament to expect, and the typical temperaments of Cocks and Hens differ pretty drastically!

We touched briefly on mate behaviors earlier, and now we need to go into that to explain sex-typical behaviors, by which I mean the instinctive behavioral and base line personality differences between typical cocks and hens.

To explain sex-typical behaviors, I have to walk you through the pigeon courtship ritual called Driving, which has three phases.

It starts with the Chase phase.

The cock struts up to a hen he'd interested in and alternately chest-bumps and bites her until she runs away.

He continues to strut after her, occasionally charging with a sweeping tail to push or bite her until she bursts into flight.

Hens will initiate for a cock they are EXTREMELY interested in, but in pigeon society, the hen having to initiate means the cock just is not remotely interested in her.

This is less than ideal for the hen, and she will divorce him for the first cock that shows enough interest to initiate the chase.

Once they are in the air, the hen is trying to break away and flee, and the cock is trying to herd her towards the nest area he's picked out.

Ideally, she crashes into it, too exhausted to keep flying.

To a human, this looks really violently aggressive.

But the Rock Dove, from which our domestic pigeons descend, evolved in a Thompson's Gazelle vs. Cheetah style arms race with the Peregrine goddamn Falcon.

If the cock cannot out pace and out maneuver the hen, and his stamina is lower than hers, then her children by him will be slower and less maneuverable than she is, with lower stamina.

This all adds up, to her, as her peeps by this cock being easier than she is for a falcon to catch.

If she can get away from him, he is an inferior potential sire, and she will reject him.

The Wrestling phase begins after the hen has recovered her breath.

As soon as she can, she will try to blow past the cock and vanish into the sky.

He has to body block her to prevent her from leaving, grab her by the scruff if she tries to push past, and fight her until she stops trying to get up.

Again, this looks REALLY violently abusive to a human!

But nest location is a status symbol in pigeon society.

A good nest is high up, wide enough for two adult birds side by side, with an entrance ideally narrow enough for only one at a time to get in.

This also makes it really hard for a hawk, rodent, or snake to get in after the eggs, peeps, or parent defending them.

Other cocks will want a good, safe, defensible nest for their wife, and absolutely will kill nestlings to drive out a less fit pair, hoping to impress a (usually specific and very picky) potential mate.

If the cock cannot fight the generally smaller, weaker hen who just recovered from the Chase phase to prevent her getting out, he hasn't got a snowball's chance in hell of defending her from a healthy rival who wants that nest for his wife and peeps.

It's only after he's completed the Chase and Wrestling phases that she allows him to prove that he's an excellent forager by offering to feed her from his crop. (the kissing behavior that immediately precedes the act of treading.)

This translates VERY poorly to a human partner, and is what makes bottle raised baby boys such a monumental pain in the ass.

Pigeons are INTENSELY social.

The drive to bond is stronger than the drive to actually reproduce, so your bonded pigeon will treat you like a mate.

Which means that a cock will be compelled to attempt the initiation, chase, and wrestling phases of Driving.

Imprinting does not just make a specific person a baby bird's mommy.

It tells the bird what species it is and sets Mommy as the ideal mate.

A pigeon that thinks they are human expects their human to understand these instinctive pigeon behaviors.

Their human's failure to respond as expected comes across as ignoring them.

Which leads to human-imprinted pigeons going from trying to court their caretaker, to feeling intentionally ignored for no reason and attacking out of furious frustration.

This is why I don't hand raise nestlings unless the peep will die if I don't step in.

Pigeons who are parent-raised, but socialized by humans the way you would nursing puppies or kittens, understand that a human is not a pigeon.

Instead of expecting their caretaker to understand them by default and getting overwhelmed with frustration when they can't, a parent-raised, human-social pigeon tries to work out how to bridge the communication gap.

If your human-social cock approaches you and tries to start a fight out of the blue, he doesn't hate you.

He loves you, and is pulling out all stops to prove to a freaking KAIJU, via hand to hand combat, that he's strong enough to protect them and their nest.

I tell people that "Cock love is pinchy."

This is what I'm talking about.

Physical contact is a mate/baby-exclusive privilege for cocks. Only his mate allopreens him, and he only allopreens his mate and their peeps.

Flock mates other than his mate only attempt to make physical contact with a cock to start a fight or ask for sex.

So all associations for a cock, aside from mate and peeps, are rivalries and side-chicks.

Pigeon bites can't break the skin (all they can do is pinch), unless it's just a massive monster of a pigeon, but the tenacity sexually selected for by hens makes cocks relentless until they are satisfied that they have suitably impressed you.

Hens, in contrast, are approached by flock mates to proposition for sex, to engage in allopreening, or to invite to feed, bathe, or loaf together.

They are generally more cuddly, more forgiving of restraint (Joke's on you, she's into that shit!), and more accepting of other family members making contact with her.

Cocks who are satisfied with their relationship can be a lot of fun, but their nippiness can be an anxiety trigger if you don't know to expect it.

In order to consider himself bonded to his person, a cock has to feel he has impressed you, like he would be expected to impress a hen.

It is much easier to convince a parent raised cock that you really are impressed and don't just see him as beneath your notice than it is to convince an Imprint.

Parent raised cocks will be more gentle when they initiate driving, as the drive is more like a compulsive need to complete a symbolic gesture for them than the actual hand to hand combat to manually overpower a titan that these matches are to an imprinted cock.

To convince a cock that he really has won your admiration fair and square, Start by putting up some resistance when he initiates.

Push him back, shake your hand, ruffle and wrestle with him like you would a very small kitten.

You will need to do this WAY longer for an imprint than a parent raised bird, but when you want to wind down the match, pay attention to what he's doing.

He is never just biting.

He is trying to maneuver your hand either by tugging or shoving.

Follow where he directs until he stops either pulling or pushing, and just pushes down. That is where he wants your hand to be.

Relax it there until he turns away, then go about your business.

It will take a few sessions, but once he's satisfied he's impressed you, he'll have no need to go all out like that anymore.

Ankhou (an imprint who is extremely satisfied with a now five year long extremely stable relationship) doesn't engage in driving fights with me anymore, but we do have lots of brief, very gentle wrestling sessions.

Hens don't need human mates to impress them in hand to hand combat like they require a cock to.

They are intelligent enough to assume that nothing her size is going to stand a chance against something your size.

The peaceful simplicity of bonding with a hen tends to make them more desired as therapy and companion animals.

Bonded cocks are just as cuddly and sweet, but you have to go through his Driving impulse to get to that point with him.

This doesn't make cocks bad pets or therapy prospects, but they are definitely not the ideal match for everyone.

@tinysaurus-rex ‘s Battar is an excellent example of a bonded hen.

If you would like to see how his owner applies the constant biting of a feral Imprint towards physical therapy for nerve pain flair ups, check out the blog @homeofhousechickens and search for Loki.

They also have a parent raised, human social emotional support cock named Fluffernutter and have made a lot of great posts illustrating the contrast between imprinted pigeons and pigeons who were raised by their parents, but socialized with lots of gentle handling.

I hope this helps the people who have their bird’s physical needs planned out to pick the bird whose emotional needs they can best meet, and whose personality will best match their emotional needs. <3

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deadbiwrites · 4 years

Note

a video of supergirl grabbing lena luthor's ass starts circulating and it's very embarrassing for sc but extremely funny to their friends

(I am SO sorry. Where do these hide? Why do I never see them? How long has this been here?!

Anyways, have some cute nonsense!)

The day starts like any other, honestly.

Like, sure, Kara’s never thrilled when she wakes up 20 minutes late and has to use superspeed to get through her morning routine and into the office on time, but it happens regularly enough that she’s just sort of used to it by now. Like, the sky is blue, the grass is green, she manages time poorly. Whatever.

But she does get to work on time, with just enough to spare that she can make a brief detour to Nia’s desk for the coffee her protege has already bought for her, thank her profusely (with perhaps minor promising of firstborn children), and slip into the morning meeting just as Snapper, James, and Lena start handing out assignments for the day.

“Well, well, good of you to join us, Ponytail. Let me guess, a family emergency kept you out all night again?”

‘I mean, that Abraxian wasn’t my family, technically, but someone’s family, so…’ “Something like that. Sorry.”

Lena catches her eye and quirks a brow in question, but Kara just shrugs easily and sips her coffee, pulling a silly face at her friend when Snapper’s attention moves away from her. When her eyes uncross, she can tell Lena is fighting not to laugh, eyes sparking with mirth as she bites her lip. Kara takes another sip of coffee, feeling a bit smug that she can get Lena to smile without even having to say anything to her. That’s real talent, right there.

Especially since Lena has to stand up at the front with James, who has been by turns cold, dejected, and surly toward her since their breakup (a big, real, final one) a few weeks prior. Lena had said that the whole thing was a mistake, that she should’ve never gone for it in the first place because she’d been right the first time- they’d had some chemistry, after all, but it certainly wasn’t compatible long-term.

Which… Kara can certainly relate. Like, a lot.

Especially about the whole… James being kind of wounded about it part. That part had really sucked- when he’d done it with Kara, who he’d gone on like, a date with, it’d resulted in him deciding to become a vigilante. Rao only knows what he’ll do when it’s someone he dated on and off for over a year...

“Ponytail!”

Kara jumps, realizing too late that her wandering attention hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Yes, sir?”

Snapper rolls his eyes. “Great, now that you’ve stopped orbiting Saturn, you wanna go get that article started?”

Kara’s eyes widen slightly in a panic as she realizes that she has no idea what he’s talking about. “Uh…” Behind his back, Lena catches her eye and nods subtly. Thank Rao. “Yes. I super do.”

Lena snorts, James sighs deeply, and the meeting is adjourned.

“So what exactly am I supposed to be doing today?” Kara asks Lena as they stroll out of the conference room together.

“Well unfortunately for you, you have to interview a big-time CEO. You have a meeting scheduled with her in three hours.”

“You?” Kara asks hopefully.

“You’re very sweet,” Lena chuckles. “No, Elena Watts. She’s a real estate developer, and she runs a nonprofit organization for homeless youth. It’s one of the articles we’re doing for next month’s spread. Contrary to popular belief, Cat and I weren’t the only women with high-profile jobs in this city. ”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool! Have you met her?”

“Not personally, no, but I have donated to her charity- it’s a very good cause, especially the outreach they do with queer youth.”

Kara elbows Lena gently. “You’re such a softie.”

“Mmm, maybe. But if you tell anyone, you’re fired.”

Kara clutches a hand to her chest, feigning horror. “Why Miss Luthor, what a blatant abuse of power!”

Lena shrugs. “I’m a Luthor, darling, I have to keep up appearances somehow.”

“Ouch,” Kara laughs. “See you at lunch?”

“Only if lunch includes a milkshake- I have a teleconference with both boards today. Unless you feel like joining me?”

“Wow, well as fun as that sounds, I’m gonna go do literally anything else.” Her comms crackle to life, alerting her of a hostage situation downtown, and Kara sighs. So much for a work day. “Alright, well, I’m, um, gonna go… see what I can find on Elena Watts. Maybe over another cup of coffee at Noonan’s.” She widens her eyes a bit, trying her best to convey that she’s going to be on Super-duty for a little while.

Thankfully, Lena picks up on it and grins. “You just want sticky buns.”

“Lena, I always want sticky buns. They’re like, my second favorite thing to eat.”

“Oh? What’s the first?” Lena asks, voice just a bit lower than usual.

Kara opens her mouth and closes it, flushing slightly as she averts her gaze and adjusts the laptop bag on her shoulder. Stuff like that has been happening more and more, and she’s not 100% sure what to do about it. Because on the one hand, it makes her stomach do flips and tie up in knots and makes her brain do this… staticky thing where nothing filters in or out, just a pleasant buzz of how funny and smart Lena is and how much Kara likes hanging out with her and being flirted with (because that’s definitely what’s been happening, even if neither of them is really ready to address it) and just generally looking at Lena.... who is currently biting her lip and grinning up at Kara, and that buzz makes her kinda dumb, which is just really unhelpful. But on the other hand, it’s also kinda awesome and Kara really enjoys it, and-

“Kara?”

She spaced out again. Crap.

“Um. What time are you free for lunch?”

Lena sighs, seeming slightly disappointed that Kara isn’t flirting back at the moment (and thank Rao Lena can’t read minds), but she smiles back easily enough as they step off of the elevator. “I should be done by two.”

Feeling emboldened, Kara turns so she’s walking backwards in front of Lena and grins. “It’s a date,” she says with a grin, ducking forward to press a quick “friendly” kiss high on Lena’s cheek. She whirls and jogs out the double doors, leaving Lena smiling exasperatedly after her.

It is genuinely baffling to Kara that people still commit crimes in National City. It’s not even an ego thing, really, since Kara tries to keep herself humble (even when she manages to wrap up a hostage situation within twenty seconds of arriving on-scene without injuring any of the criminals or damaging the building too badly). Like, yeah, she gets that there’s a certain element of crazies who just sorta gravitate to places with a local hero, the big-bads who have their own suits and geek-toys and abilities. Them, Kara gets. Kinda sorta. But the regular ones, who are armed with like, pistols? Or knives? Just regular man made stuff without even the benefit of magic or kryptonite or something?

Why?

She’s sure that if she asked, Lena would have some sort of statistical thing about large cities and poverty and all sorts of other factors that would end up making Kara feel like a jerk for being uncharitable to the criminal element of her city, but at the moment she’s mostly too annoyed by the fact that she has to spend her weekdays chasing them around instead of chasing stories.

Once all the hostages are freed and the cops secure the scene, Kara departs, flying into the alley behind Noonan’s and changing into her regular clothes before she heads inside to do a bit of research before her meeting with Elena Watts in a few hours (just because she’d used it as a cover doesn’t mean it was a bad idea…). She finds her favorite little two-person booth tucked into a quiet corner, plugs in her laptop, and gets to work, asking the waitress to please keep both the coffee and the sticky buns coming.

She gets a surprising amount done by the time she needs to leave for the interview, having a good foundation for what she wants to write and who Elena Watts is.

Ms. Watts turns out to be a pretty nice lady around Eliza’s age, if a bit busy and distracted by the steady flow of people in and out of her office. She answers all Kara’s questions with aplomb, happy to elaborate on most every point and eager to draw attention to the rising issue of homelessness among children and teens in the US.

“When I was young, my dad lost his job at the auto plant. It was supposed to be a temporary layoff, but the factory never reopened. We ended up losing the house, and we lived so far from our extended family that staying with them wasn’t much of an option. We lived in our SUV for six months, sleeping at shelters every now and again, if we could find one that allowed families to stay together. We showered at the local YMCA. Five people and a dog, living and sleeping in an old station wagon- even now, it sounds ridiculous. Eventually, we got back on our feet, but I never forgot that. It was just six months, but it was- and remains- the scariest, most uncertain time in my entire life, and it shaped me in a lot of ways I didn’t expect. And there are kids and families who do that for years. I just want to help them the way I wish that someone had been able to help us.”

At the end of the interview, Kara thanks her profusely for her time and for sharing her story before hurrying off to CatCo to type up a draft for Snapper (“What’s wrong with you, Ponytail, why is everything you bring me sappy and sentimental?”), which she finishes an outline of just in time to send it off before running to Big Belly and L-Corp for lunch with Lena.

She greets the newest in a series of secretaries (Anna? Amy? Ava? Lena’s really missing Jess, these days, but from what she’s told Kara, Jess is kicking butt in her new role as VP of Operations and will probably take over for the COO when he retires in a few years), and the girl waves her in distractedly.

And that’s when Kara’s day goes from normal to not, because inside the office are two masked men holding a stone-faced Lena at gunpoint on her balcony and demanding… something, probably. Kara’s a bit distracted by the loaded gun aimed at Lena’s head.

“Hey!” she yells, attracting both their attention. They whirl on her and Lena’s eyes widen in alarm, and Kara suddenly realizes three things- 1) she’s in her Kara Danvers clothes, not the supersuit, 2) she can’t speed into the suit now that they’re both looking at her, and 3) she has no plan.

Crap.

“Who the hell are you?!” one of them demands.

Kara… doesn’t have a good or snappy answer for that, and instead does the only thing she can think of- she throws the large milkshakes she’s carrying at them as hard as she can.

Which, in retrospect, is too hard, apparently because while yes, it is both funny and gratifying to see two grown men get absolutely leveled by a tasty dairy treat to the face, the one closest to Lena manages to elbow her in such a way that she falls backwards over the rail with an instinctual scream that makes Kara’s heart fly into her throat. She whips off her glasses, and by the time she’s out the window and speeding toward Lena’s flailing form, the suit is materialized. She gets under Lena, catching her carefully and dropping a bit further before slowing down (because she’s been made aware that when she doesn’t, the people she’s saving may as well be hitting the pavement), finally coasting to a stop about 20 feet from the ground.

Lena’s face is screwed up in a forced sort of focus, her hands clutching tightly at Kara’s shoulders and cape as she holds her breath.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks quietly.

Lena swallows thickly and nods, eyes still firmly closed. “I’m alright. Thank you- I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure how to get out of that one.”

“What was that? What did they want?”

Lena cracks an eye open. “Oh. you know, just my quarterly assassination attempt. I think my mother was starting to miss me, so she wanted to reach out.”

Kara snorts. “That really shouldn’t be funny.”

“Maybe not, but here we are.” Lena shifts a bit in Kara’s arms, cheeks a bit flushed from the adrenaline rush, and clears her throat. “Not to be rude, Supergirl, but do you think that perhaps we could continue this conversation… on the ground?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, sorry. I forgot we were, uh, flying.”

Lena chuckles as they ascend slowly back up to her office. “You forgot you were flying?”

Kara shrugs with an easy smile. “I guess you have that effect on me.”

Lena huffs a laugh against Kara’s neck, eyes squeezed shut again. They alight on the balcony, finding the two men still unconscious, covered in Kara and Lena’s lunch. Lena sighs as Kara sets her down, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What a mess.”

“Yeah, sorry, I sorta… panicked.”

“I was so looking forward to a milkshake too…” Lena laments playfully.

“Well, then I have good news and bad news,” Kara says. She reaches out and gently wipes a bit of her own chocolate shake from Lena’s cheek with the pad of her thumb, tucking it into her mouth on instinct to get a taste of it. “The good news is, you do, in fact, have some shake on you!”

“Whats the bad news?”

“Also that you have some shake on you.” Kara laughs, gathering the two men in her arms and hefting them a bit so they’re easier to carry. “I’ll get you another one. Be right back.”

She drops the men at the police station with a brief explanation before flying back into the office. Lena hands over her discarded glasses with a wry grin.

“I figured you’d need these before the police arrive.” She’s putting on a brave front, but she’s clearly still more than a bit rattled, if her too-bright eyes and thundering heartbeat are anything to go by. Kara steps closer and opens her arms in invitation, and Lena doesn’t hesitate to step into them. “Thank you,” Lena says fervently, tucking her face into Kara’s shoulder and wrapping her arms tight around Kara’s waist.

“Always,” Kara promises, daring to press a reassuring kiss to Lena’s temple (and getting a bit of Lena’s strawberry shake for her troubles) before wrapping her up even tighter in her arms. “Are you actually okay?”

“I mean, my fear of heights has been reaffirmed,” Lena jokes, “but aside from that, I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I don’t like, love people pointing guns at you. Just so you know.”

“I’m not a fan either, for the record,” Lena drawls, burrowing even closer. “Even though I know you’ll save me, it still puts a damper on my day.”

Kara huffs a laugh. “Same.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, until Lena’s calmed down enough to stop shaking and calls her assistant (Audra, apparently) in, telling her what’d happened and that the police would be arriving shortly to take her and Kara’s statements, and please advise the security team to let them up discreetly. After the cops arrive, it’s a blur of questions, and Kara has to concentrate on telling the story of how she’d panicked and thrown the milkshakes at the men, and one of them had knocked Lena over the balcony (all true), and Kara had yelled for Supergirl, who had knocked the men out on her way to Lena (also technically mostly true. Technically. Mostly.). The police are sure to tell Kara that next time, she shouldn’t throw things at people with guns, and also to tell them both how lucky they are that Supergirl had shown up when she did.

“She’s always there when I need her,” Lena agrees, throwing a sly wink over the officer’s shoulder at Kara.

Kara just shakes her head and smiles. Even almost dying isn’t enough to make Lena not flirt with her. The woman is truly a marvel.

Kara’s comms crackle again, accompanied by Alex’s custom ringtone on her cell, and after assuring the police that she has no issue with giving another statement if they need her to later, hurries over to the DEO (making a quick stop in the back alley to change into her suit).

When Kara arrives, she’s told that J’onn and Alex are waiting for her in the Directors’ offices. She makes her way there, waving to the agents and scientists she knows. But it’s very weird, because every time one of them sees her, they start giggling before quickly hurrying off in the opposite direction. Like, literally everyone is whispering and pointing and giggling, and it’s giving Kara such visceral flashbacks to high school that it’s all she can do to not check her cape for a taped on sign that says ‘Kick me’ or ‘Freak’.

(Kids are mean.)

By the time Kara gets to her destination, she’s fully paranoid, sure that someone’s playing a prank on her, somehow, and that everyone but her is in on the joke. She opens the door with more force than intended and catches it just before the handle puts a hole in the wall, throwing Alex and J’onn a sheepish smile. She closes the door extra gently and leans against it heavily. J’onn and Alex just stare at her, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Busy day, Supergirl?” Alex asks, and after half a lifetime of spending time with her, Kara recognizes that she, too, is trying not to laugh.

Kara’s had enough. “Okay, do I have something on my face? Or on the suit? Is someone messing with me?”

J’onn’s brow furrows. “No.”

“Then what’s the deal? Why is the entire DEO like… laughing at me? Did someone accidentally vent the lab fumes out into the main hub again?”

“No.”

“Did someone see me crash into that billboard last week?”

J’onn’s frown deepens. “What?”

“No,” Alex answers.

“Then why is everyone laughing at me?!”

“I mean, if I had to guess, I’d say it’s because of that,” Alex muses, nodding toward the big TV on the wall beside Kara.

She steps back to watch the news coverage of her dealing with the hostage situation this morning and frowns. “What, those guys? That was routine, what’s so funny about tha-”

“No, no, not that. That,” Alex clarifies, cranking up the volume.

“...reports are saying that the CEO of L-Corp, Lena Luthor, experienced an attempt on her life early this afternoon. Sources claim that she fell from a considerable height-”

“Hey, she was pushed,” Kara corrects.

“Shh!”

“...caught by Supergirl, who may have gotten a little… familiar with her.”

And there’s a video (clearly recorded on a cell phone but not the worst quality Kara’s ever seen) of Kara catching Lena and slowing to a stop above the sidewalk, of them talking quietly, of Kara’s hand definitely on Lena’s-

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Alex drawls, clicking the TV off with relish, a large, evil-big-sister grin spreading across her face. “Congratulations, Supergirl- the world just watched you grope Lena Luthor’s ass.”

“But I’m not- I wasn’t groping, I was catching! My hands weren’t… If it was groping, I’d be all up on her, and I wasn’t!”

“Camera begs to differ. It’s already trending on Twitter in National CIty.”

Kara puts her head in her hands and groans. “Why?! I was trying to save her!”

“You were definitely trying to save part of her,” Alex agrees. “Granted, it’s a very nice part...”

Kara’s head pops up, and she shoots Alex a look that’s between a pout and a glare. “You’re not helping.”

Alex feigns confusion. “Am I supposed to be helping?”

“Alright, enough,” J’onn cuts in before Kara can retort. “We just wanted you to be aware. I don’t think that this is going to be taken for anything more than it is- a humorous moment in the middle of a successful rescue. You shouldn’t worry about the press.”

And truth be told, Kara isn't worried about the press- she’s worried about the fact that she’s going to have to face Lena after this. Lena, who she knows for a fact has google alerts set for herself, Kara Danvers, and Supergirl, a gesture which is normally actually sweet and kind but is right now definitely gonna bite her in the-

“Okay! So, is that all?”

Alex blinks, looks over at J’onn, and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Try not to make a habit of groping your crush when you’re in the suit.”

“I wasn’t groping her-”

Alex grins. “So you admit you have a crush? Interesting…”

“Alex!”

J’onn’s prediction is mostly right- no one seems to be taking the shots of her grabbi- saving Lena as anything other than a funny blip of a moment in their coverage of it.

He was wrong about the sheer scale. The clip had gone totally viral in a matter of hours, and seemingly every major network in the country has run the clip at least once as a bit of filler-fluff, and almost every major network anchor (including the ones at CatCo, the traitors) has made at least a passing joke about Supergirl being ‘Super-Handsy'.

Which means that Kara is very late getting back to Lena’s office with replacement food. But like, she’s been busy, okay? It’s not like she’s avoiding Lena, or something, because she’s embarrassed- which she isn’t, because she didn’t do anything bad or wrong and-

Anyways, it’s well past sunset by the time Kara gets to Lena’s office door again. She hesitates outside it for just a moment before shouldering the door open and knocking tentatively.

Lena’s attention jerks from whatever she’d been absorbed in to Kara, and a relieved smile blooms across her face. “Hey there.”

Kara finds herself equally relieved to not experience a repeat performance of earlier scary situations. “Hi,” Kara says, unable to resist smiling back. She raises the bags and cup carrier. “I bring grease and milkshakes. Again.”

“Oh thank god, I’m starving,” Lena says, rolling her chair away from her desk and rising into a deep and probably much-needed stretch. Kara very determinedly does not stare at the slight sliver of soft tummy that appears between her blouse and skirt at the motion. “I’ve been staring at this screen for several hours. And Sam called to yell at me- she says hello, by the way- she and Ruby are in town next weekend.”

“Good!” Kara crosses the room to the couch as Lena does, easily spreading out the veritable buffet of fast food she’d brought over the coffee table. “I mean, not good that she yelled at you, or that you’re still at work, Miss Luthor,” she says pointedly, receiving only an unapologetic shrug in response. “But good that, um-”

“I get it,” Lena chuckles, resting a hand lightly on Kara’s knee and boy, if that doesn’t make Kara’s brain go fuzzy and dumb again… “Thank you, for checking in.”

“Of course I was gonna check on you, Lena,” Kara huffs. “Plus, I know you probably didn’t get lunch, so…”

Lena hums around a mouthful of burger, chewing until she can politely speak again. “Well it’s delicious. Did you make it yourself?” she teases with a sly grin.

“Oh, yeah, totally. Slaved away over a hot stove for this- I just wrapped it in Big Belly wrappers so you wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

“Very clever.” Lena pops the lid off of her milkshake and drags a fry through it (an advanced culinary delicacy Kara had horrified her with initially but had eventually become a bit of a guilty pleasure). “Although I have to say, traditionally you’d have to buy me dinner before you grabbed my ass.”

Kara chokes on a pickle. “Oh no,” she groans, dropping the burger onto the wrapper on the table and dropping her very red face into her hands as Lena laughs beside her. She peers out from between her fingers. “I am so sorry, I was just worried about you hitting the pavement and like, catching you in the least jarring way and I wasn’t paying attention to where my hands were and I didn’t even notice until I got back to the DEO and-”

“Well I have so say, I feel a bit offended that you didn’t even realize you were copping a feel...” When the only response is another groan and a deep flush spreading from Kara’s neck to the tips of her ears, Lena relents. “Kara, Kara, it’s fine!” she laughs, pulling Kara’s hands away from her face and giving them a grounding squeeze. “Nia’s been sending me memes about it all day, which has improved my mood significantly. On the grand scale of fallout from assassination attempts, this one was at least funny.”

“I know that’s supposed to be comforting, but all it makes me wanna do is wrap you in bubble wrap forever,” Kara informs her.

“Pass on that. But seriously, don’t worry about it- I know it wasn’t on purpose- unfortunately for me, you’re too noble to do something like that,” Lena laments playfully.

And whether it’s the knowledge that Lena is not, in fact, upset, the overall weirdness that has been this day, or this delicious burger fueling it, Kara feels a bit emboldened. “Hey Lena…”

“Yes?”

“What if I wanted to grab your butt? Just, y’know, as a hypothetical. For future reference.”

Lena quirks a brow at her, fighting a smile as she contemplates this. “Hmm. Strictly hypothetically?”

Kara scoots a bit closer on the couch. “Sure.”

“Well, you’ve already bought me dinner…”

“And lunch, technically. Even if I gave it to the bad guys.”

“True. Plus you saved my life, so that gets you some points, probably.”

Kara pauses in her sly scooching. “Oh, hey, wait, no, that’s not-”

“Kidding, Kara. I know you’d never use that to your advantage. I, however, have determined that strong moral fibre and nobility do, in fact, earn you more points, which is my choice on the matter and you get absolutely no say in it.”

“Oh. Um, alright, I think.”

Lena stares off into the middle distance, tapping her forefinger thoughtfully against her chin. Finally she shrugs. “Yes, I think you’re fulfilled the prerequisites for a bit of grab-ass today.”

Kara snorts, Lena laughs, and soon enough Kara takes her up on the offer.

“Hey Kara, remember that time you grabbed Lena’s ass and it made international news?” Nia asks around a mouthful of mushu pork.

“You mean last week? Yes, I remember,” Kara drawls. Beside her/halfway sitting on her lap, Lena snorts.

“That was the best.”

Alex glares. “Um, excuse you, no. No it was not. I had to sift through so much thirsting over my sister on like, every social media platform. It was the worst day of my life.”

Brainy’s brow furrows. “Surely that cannot be correct, Alex. Statistically speaking-”

Alex holds up a hand, cutting him off. “Trauma can’t be measured, Brainy.”

Kelly chuckles and presses a consoling kiss to Alex’s cheek, and it makes the tough agent melt into a doe-eyed puddle of mush that Kara snorts. And she says they’re gross... Kara sneaks a glance at Lena from the corner of her eye, and she catches Lena looking at her. She leans close and jostles her gently as she drops her head onto Lena’ shoulder. “We’re never gonna live that down, are we?”

“Probably not.”

“We have the worst friends.” When this elicits nothing but a chuckle, Kara tips her head back to see Lena still looking at her, a soft smile playing at her mouth and shining in her eyes. And like, this whole thing they’re doing is new, with the kissing and the actual dates and the... everything else. But the thing where Kara catches Lena looking at her and she doesn’t look away? That freakin’ knocks her out, every single time. “Hey,” she manages.

Lena grins down at her. “Hi.”

So yeah. Maybe the initial circumstances weren’t ideal, and she doesn’t love the mockery that’s been heaped upon her by all of her friends and loved ones (including Winn, who’d sent a missive from the future that literally just said ‘LOL’). But the fact is, Kara muses as she surges up just enough to kiss the corner of Lena’s mouth, that she doesn’t regret a thing.

#supercorp #prompts!#asks open #ask response #supergirl fanfic #kara x lena #humor #idiots #international news about idiots #kara danvers #lena luthor #i'm also deeply sorry that this is so long on mobile #i swear there's a read more that's supposed to be there #but alas

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katzkinder · 3 years

Text

Strawberry Madeleine

Tsurugi used to use Mikuni’s old uniform as pajamas.

He’s aware of how pathetic it is. How it sounds. How it probably would have been more subtle to shout that he missed him through a megaphone, for all of Tokyo to hear.

Of course, it doesn’t smell like his old roommate anymore. It hasn’t for a long time, especially not after having been washed and given to Mahiru to run around in for a whole week, over a year ago now. Especially not after it needed to be bleached, and deep cleaned, because of all the blood and dirt and dust that had been practically ground into the white fibers.

Frankly, it’s a miracle that old thing is still around.

He never expected to get it back, but he did, and he’s only a little ashamed to admit that he held it the same way someone would hold a cherished stuffed toy, inhaling the smell of fabric softener chosen with Kuro’s delicate skin in mind. He had called himself creepy, and Yumikage… Had flicked his forehead. Called him an idiot.

The way he had explained it, it made such perfect sense.

Mikuni... Was a familiar pain, like a bruise that never quite faded and you press your fingers to it just to remind yourself you’ve been hurt.

Yumikage, Junichiro, Freya, Mahiru, and Kuro are a comfort he never thought he deserved, and that old uniform, one of the only few possessions of his that had survived, the new softness of it and the new smell, are proof that whether he deserves them or not… They are his.

Anyone would cherish that, wouldn’t they?

***

One day his phone lights up in the evening twilight.

“I made too much. That offer to join us for dinner is still valid ☀︎”

Attached is a picture of a simmering pot of curry that makes his mouth water so much he nearly drools all down his front. There’s something familiar about it he can’t quite place, but it’s easily ignored and Tsurugi wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, thumbs flying eagerly over the screen.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes ☆” he replies, then, after adjusting his course accordingly, practically skips off down the sidewalk.

Two minutes from his destination, his phone buzzes again.

“I left the door unlocked for you. Come right in!”

Tsurugi... Tries really hard not to cry in the middle of the street as words half remembered while his soul was tangled with Mahiru’s filter back to him.

If the window is shut, we'll just go through the door.

***

Sometimes Tsurugi goes to Mahiru’s house to play.

It’s a childish way to put it, like they’re both in elementary school and he’s showing up at the front door to ask his friend’s uncle if Mahiru is home, but it’s also the only proper way to describe it, because he is playing.

He’s free now, or about as free as he can be with those debts looming over his head, and he wants to play. Kuro, meanwhile, wants to show him lots of different games, so if he has a day off, and the both of them are available… To the Shirota apartment he goes.

It’s always a mess.

Not the apartment, no, never the apartment. He doesn’t think even C3, with its white walls and white floors and white sheets and everything, everything, white, was even half so clean as that little apartment where three people lived.

What’s always a mess is himself.

This time, though… It’s Mahiru.

***

Tsurugi knows he’s a messy person. Tsurugi knows he’s not very good at cleaning up, though he often tries. It’s overwhelming though, sometimes, looking at it all, all the trash and garbage that had accumulated, all the things he didn’t need anymore, didn’t want, and maybe part of the problem was that his mind hardly ever stayed “adult” long enough to make any real headway.

It’s not like anyone went into his room to begin with, anyway, so why bother?

Mahiru, though, is different from him. Mahiru likes to clean up as he goes, so he supposes it shouldn’t be a shock that he gets frustrated with him and with Kuro, who have their little area in front of the TV set up with snacks, and drinks, and piles and piles of games to try out, and a third controller for Mahiru because sometimes instead of watching, Mahiru will join them, tempted by their cajoling and whining and Tsurugi’s bright, high pitched yelps.

This is not one of those times.

This is a time when Mahiru got frustrated and stormed off, and… Well, Tsurugi isn’t quite sure what to do.

A single look at Kuro shows he doesn’t either, wide eyes watching the hall his Eve disappeared down and slowly the umaibo he had been munching on disappears into his mouth.

“Should we… Clean up?” Tsurugi asks, hesitant. Their characters on screen continue to idle, the timer ticking down. Kuro hits pause. Stands, stretches, cracks his back and Tsurugi can’t help but wince because that can’t be healthy…

“...Yeah,” the Servamp finally says, and bends down with a muffled groan to start gathering chip bags and drink containers. “It’ll give him time to cool down.”

“Does this happen often?” Tsurugi stands, too, and casts his eyes about for something to pick up, but there really wasn’t much. Kuro’s already got it handled.

It makes him feel just a little useless.

He was a grown up, wasn’t he? … Wasn’t he?

***

Giving Mahiru space to calm down seems to have been the right choice, because when they find him, curled up on his bed and looking just the slightest bit ashamed of his outburst, he looks ready to apologize at any moment.

But Tsurugi doesn’t want an apology.

He wants Mahiru to come play with them.

So he speaks first, apologizes, sincerely, and promises that he and Kuro will clean up after themselves properly, but when they are done.

“You don’t need to keep everything nice and neat all the time, y’know. Part of being a grown up is knowing when it’s time to play and when it’s time to put your toys up.”

Mahiru makes a face at him, buries his chin deeper into his knees. “Tsurugi-san, no offense, but I don’t wanna hear that from you of all people.”

“Ouch, haha.” He sits, plopping down gracelessly next to the still pouting teen, making him bounce and emit a startled noise, and Kuro shuffles forward, slides down on Mahiru’s other side. “...You’re right, though. I never really learned how to clean up and put my things away all nice and neat like you do. No one ever taught me.”

Mahiru shifts, glances at him curiously. Having seen Tsurugi’s room at C3, he definitely believes it.

“...I guess,” he starts, slow and picking his words carefully. Kuro makes an encouraging noise beside him. “Because I never really felt like the apartment was ‘mine,’ I always ended up cleaning after every little activity. Because having it be messy... Made it feel more lived in than it was.”

“... Mm. That’s exactly it. The illusion of company...” A self deprecating little chuckle. “Guess we both learned to handle that feeling in different ways. If Kuro-chan and I make a mess, we... Might need your help to clean it up properly. But... Can you trust us to clean up when we’re done?”

“... I can try.”

“Good!”

Kuro finally speaks up, because this was a conversation for them, not him. But the moment has passed, and it feels safe to say something a little stupid, a little funny. “We’re serious about the needing your help on how it’s done, thing.”

“Ugh, I believe you. Tsurugi-san, one time I put this guy in charge of loading up the washing machine and you know what happened?”

“Wait, Mahi, no—“

“Ohh, do tell~!”

“Bubbles. Bubbles, everywhere. My downstairs neighbor had no idea where all the suds dripping onto her balcony were coming from!”

“Pfffhahaha! Kuro-chan, seriously?! There are directions on the box!”

“And I followed them. Our washer is small, though, so it was too much...”

Kamiya Tsurugi was an adult.

Shirota Mahiru was a kid.

But, if they could teach each other the things they had missed out on…

Perhaps it was all for that reason, huh...

Tsurugi wonders if Mahiru will be able to make good on that promise for a cake this year.

***

The end of August comes again, and, just like he had hoped, Mahiru bakes him a cake. Covered in glistening, sweet strawberries, with loads of white, sweet cream, it’s almost too much, especially when paired with how Freya and Iduna had come by, are each sitting in Yumikage’s living room while Freya’s subclass play some noisy game with Takuto.

Some part of him didn’t think Mahiru would really do it. But not only did he keep his promise, he’s pressing a wrapped gift into his hand, a small one that rattles when it moves, this grin on his face as Tsurugi turns it over in his hands, this perfectly wrapped gift with yellow paper and citrus themed washi tape keeping it together. Mahiru’s Servamp lingers back, a noisemaker hanging unenthusiastically from between his lips. And yet, despite his carefully practiced indifference, there’s no denying that Kuro is also eager, just as eager as his Eve.

“Go on. Open it.”

So he does. It’s... A cellphone charm. “...Cinnamoroll...?”

Mahiru beams at him and shows off his own phone. Tsurugi snorts, a smile cracking at the sight of the Pompompurin character charm that dangles merrily from it.

“How’d you know my favorite~?”

“I asked around~”

“Thank you, Mahiru-kun,” Tsurugi answers him, feeling his throat close up, just the slightest bit. His eyes sting, and he holds that little charm close to his chest. “I love it.”

It's such a small gift. A tiny one, one perfectly suited to a high schooler’s budget, but it means so much.

Because it didn't have to be given.

Mahiru takes his wrist and leads him back to the core of the party, where they are all immediately mobbed by Tsurugi’s own homegrown family.

Vampires, magicians, humans. Adults, children, immortals.

People his own age. People who aren’t.

Tsurugi is loved.

He’s happy he was born.

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #pawprints #tsurugi kamiya #mahiru shirota #happy birthday tsurugi!!!#ao3 version will be up tomorrow

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Tuesdays Hotchner Style

Waiting out the bag of saline hanging over his head, Hotch lays back on the bed and just enjoys this one second that he has to himself. Being a father is great, he loves every second of Jack’s curiosity and his attention to detail. He loves his team, even if he’s not sure he does well in how he shows that. However, between Jack's pre-teen temper and the team’s never-ending list of needs he rarely gets a moment to just breathe. No one asking to use his office or when dinner will be done. It’s almost nice.

Had he set out this morning to get hit by a car during his morning jog? No, but maybe that’s what he gets for entertaining the idea of taking some time off. He’s got a few bumps and scrapes but already knows his knee is going to give him hell for landing on it like he did. Not even the ice pack the nurse taped over it is doing a thing to squish the pain. He still needs to have his shoulder pulled back into the socket and his concussion assessed. In other words, he’s taking that time off but not like he’d planned.

They did give him a cherry popsicle and the nurse showed him how to lean against his pillow to keep the ice pack pressed against his head without having to hold it up. This place is better than most motels he’s stayed in. If the nice nurse says he needs to wait twenty more minutes for the saline bag to empty and she’s promising another popsicle then she’s won. Seems like a good deal to him. He was a lawyer, he’d know.

“Hey, sweetie.”

He blinks himself back to Earth. Peeling his eyes open and grunting, not having realized he’d managed to doze off. The nurse, the same one as before, steps into the little curtained-off area with a smile. “Sorry,” he slurs softly, motioning with his popsicle hand to where he’d managed to let some of it drip onto the white sheets.

She just smiles at him, “ honey, that’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” She dismisses it with a wave and goes to her fluttering around him. The treatment he’s gotten used to since hobbling into here four hours ago. Replacing the ice pack at his knee she stops to frown at the purpling skin but it’s just bruised and swollen. Angry at its treatment. “How’s the arm?”

The concussion is probably worse than he’s led on if the current state of his consciousness is any proof. He’s just tired and this is like his version of a spa day. “Arm?” he asks, and he swallows thickly. Vaguely, he’s aware of his arms. The strange weight in his left hand where the IV is and the ice pack settled against his shoulder. It’s dislocated. It hurts.

“My arm,” he whispers, “I can… I can feel the fingers.”

She moves his hand, turning over his palm, and waiting for him to do as she silently asks and moves his fingers. He makes a fist, slowly closing each finger. She pats the back of his hand as she sits it back down, movements intact and coloration is alright. “I’m going to give you another sedative, some painkillers, alright? Then we’re going to get this shoulder back into the socket.”

Another? He… He can't remember the first.

“You’ve got some people asking for you out in the waiting room.”

He picks his head up, opening eyes he hadn’t realized had already slid shut again. “The team?” he mumbles.

She takes his popsicle out of his hand, it’s no good half-melted, and he’s falling asleep. “I don’t know about any team, darlin’, but there’s a whole crew.” She dispenses the drugs like promised and steps back. “Lemme think,” she’d seen them when she was stepping into the room. They’d asked for him but she can’t let all of them back here and she’d at least like to run the idea of them by Hotch first. “I used to smoke a lot of Virginia Slims in my day, there’s a fella out there that looks exactly like one. There’s two feisty brunettes. One about my age and the other looks like she eats bolts in her cornflakes.” She sighs, there’s more she’s certain. “There is a man out there who looks like he could have been sculpted by angels.”

He smiles at that, dopey and free. “Morgan,” he whispers, he knows it with a strong certainty. Who else could it be?

“Anyways,” she has moved away from her point. He’s probably ready to have that shoulder moved. “I can go get one of them if you’d like,” she offers. “It’ll be a painful but quick procedure. Still, most people like having someone.”

Someone.

He almost wonders if Garcia’s out there. She’s the end of the world sort. Even if she didn’t want to be back here she’d come with her flurry of colors and glitter. Hold his hand and make sure he got that other popsicle but no, no he won’t ask that of her. Can’t.

“I can always let them decide,” the nurse offers. “If that’s alright with you?”

He’s too tired, too disoriented to make the words work so he nods. She pats his hand one more time before moving back out the curtain. He can hear them talking, transforms their mumbling and their stiff silence to none of them wanting to come back here. Doesn’t hear Morgan and Emily fighting, neither wanting to be the one left out there. Both wanting to set their eyes on Hotch, to really make sure he’s okay.

His knee hurts, the drugs and the adrenaline are fading in and out and he’s tired. He turns his head back into his ice pack, rests the cut on his cheek against the plastic still cool from the water. Panted, short breathes leave his mouth and he wants nothing more than to sink into the bed. To disappear.

The curtain parts but he doesn’t hear it.

Dave steps in where the nurse directs, standing by the edge of the bed while she moves things where she needs them. He gets stuck, unable to move for a moment while he just looks at Hotch. The tears drying at the corners of his eyes and labored breathing, his agitated state.

“Aaron,” the nurse moves his good hand. Waking him without hesitation but still smiling when his tired eyes move slowly to concentration. To focus on her. “I brought you a friend.”

They’re back to the same old song and dance. Dave goes to the little space at the side of the bed, standing beside machines and things not currently in use. There nonetheless. Aaron looks up at him, sleepy eyes slowly blinking clarity back. “Hit by a car,” Dave mumbles. “Only you.”

Hotch smirks, “was running.”

Dave shakes his head, “again, who in his right mind?”

A doctor steps in, the little area of curtain overrun by white coats and stethoscopes.

Hotch gets nervous and looks hopelessly up at Dave. He’s scared. “Easy,” Dave takes his good hand. Making a quick understanding of his having been put on this side. “It’s just a little upset joint,” Dave assures him. “You’ve been stabbed and shot and blown up, you’ll be okay.” Hotch doesn’t look convinced but Dave doesn’t let go, he’s right there. Not going anywhere. “You’ll be okay, Aaron. I’m right here.”

It’s all medical nonsense from there on. The doctor introduces herself and the nurse nods her head, giving them the okay. Hotch is as drugged as he can be, relaxed under their touch so long as Dave isn’t more than a step away. He holds onto Dave so tightly he couldn’t get away if he wanted to. Part of him does, he’s not sure he wants to watch this. Hotch cries out when they pull on his arm, a sound that drowns out into a whimper. The sickening thunk of the joint sliding back into place. He tries to sit up, screams, and cries out as they check to make sure it’s gone where it needs to be. Their fingers digging into his skin. He cries out for Dave, to make them st0p.

“Easy,” Dave whispers. “Easy, easy.”

The doctors and the nurses leave as soon as their job is done, giving them nods as they go.

Dave brushes his thumb across Hotch’s forehead, frowning down at the tears. “Hang in there,” he whispers. “Behave a little longer and I’ll get you a milkshake, alright?”

His eyes peel back open at that, “promise?”

Dave shakes his head, “you’re a child, Aaron Hotchner, but yes, I promise I’ll get you a milkshake.”

“Hey-” both look to the curtain and after a second Emily’s head pops through. “Do we all get a milkshake?”

Dave rolls his eyes, “yes. Yes, sure.” They’re going to be the death of him. “Milkshakes for everyone, why not?”

The hard part is over.

He doesn't get another popsicle.

“Hey, Morgan?” Dave sticks his head out of the curtain and motions Morgan in. “We’re gonna need your help in here.”

Hotch groans, entirely too disoriented to completely stop himself from whining. He doesn’t want help, he just wants to go get a milkshake and go home. To his couch and his blankets and to clothes that don’t smell like blood and sweat. But there’s no winning, if he’s leaving he needs help. “Up on three,” Morgan encourages. He stops for a moment, makes sure his grip is good before bracing himself. One arm around Hotch’s back and the other bracing his front. “Ready when you are.” It’s more falling than walking but Morgan directs his fall straight into the wheelchair. “Easy Hotch,” but his head is a blur and he’s vaguely aware of Morgan gently lifting his legs up into the footrests.

“Damn,” Emily mumbles when Morgan pulls back the curtain and Dave pushes Hotch through. “Look like a Tim Burton doll.” Hotch grunts back at her. She tries to find a small silver lining, “but good, considering. Your hair is still pretty neatly styled and the road rash on your cheek makes you look distinguished.”

Hotch frowns but can’t turn his head to look at Dave so he just mumbles, “don’t think Emily has deserved her milkshake.”

“Hey!”

“Children,” Rossi interrupts before either can get any further. “Everyone is getting a milkshake, calm down.” He sighs, watching them fall in line alongside Hotch. “What flavors are we thinking?” Milkshakes and car wrecks… sounds like a regular old Tuesday to him.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #david rossi #derek morgan #emily prentiss

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dianapana · 3 years

Text

SH Day 3- Addicted to your touch

Day 3 – Addicted to your touch Separation Anxiety

WARNING: MENTAL ILLNESS

Disclaimer: I am not a therapist, the advice I gave in this piece might be very faulty, please take it with a grain of salt.

Modern AU, OOC

@sasuhinamonth

It all started small, when one day Sasuke announced that he’d be gone for 2 weeks due to work, the news alone made Hinata’s heartache but she smiled and wished him good luck on the project and a safe trip. Each day the feeling of missing him would grow and grow and grow until it was too big for her body to contain, and the feeling turned to pain. Her longing made her physically sick by the end of the second week.

The next stage was composed of excessive calls and texts, Hinata constantly needed to know where he was, what he was doing, whenever he’d take too long to reply the longing would come back and she’d either sink into sadness or lose herself to anger, both feelings she had not experienced much since dating Sasuke. Whenever he’d reply after a longer break, she’d ask him to come over to her house and stay the night.

That was the case on August 3rd. Sasuke came straight to her house after a long day at the office and Hinata ran to hug him, all of the negative feelings almost forgotten the moment she laid her eyes on him. His touch alone made all of her worries disappear. That was the feeling of home, in his arms.

They spent the night normally, eating dinner while watching a movie, changing and going to bed because they both had work in the morning. The issue came with the sunrise, for Hinata refused to let him leave. She cried and begged and screamed the moment he brought up work, she tore his shirt apart reasoning that he couldn’t go to work without one. The moment the white fabric hit the ground; silence fell over the room. Both of them were shocked, unable to speak due to her outburst of emotions.

Her cried aggravated, she fell to her knees and crawled to where he was, hugging his waist, apologizing over and over again. Sasuke was in deep thought, remembering all the small signs over the past month and a half. It hurt him to think that he had hurt her in any way to drive her to this moment, he patted her hair lovingly, took a deep breath and said in a broken voice “I think there’s something wrong Hina”

She looked at him with big round eyes, they were glossy and red, she blinked and looked down at the floor. “There might be…” Sasuke picked her up by her armpits and placed her in his lap, continuing to run his hand through her hair. He continued doing so until she calmed down and fell asleep, her emotions must have exhausted her. He didn’t move her from his lap for fear of waking her up, however, he picked up his phone from the nightstand and send Itachi a message telling him that he will not be going to work, he proceeded to text Kurenai as well informing her of Hinata’s absence at work too.

He spent the following few hours reading about similar situations, which mostly led to the same piece of advice, that a specialist was needed. So, he went on to search for therapists in Konoha, texting them all, asking whether any of them were free that day, two of them didn’t reply, another one was full for the week and could only see them next Wednesday, thankfully the last one agreed to meet with them after closing hours at 8:30.

Having all of that plan, all he needed to do was find a way to approach the topic when talking to Hinata, she had to agree that paying a visit to therapy would do them both good. Hinata had been asleep for about two hours now, so Sasuke took the liberty to move her onto her side of the bed and go to the kitchen to make some food for when she’d get up.

He managed to make scrambled eggs and toast and was about to go and wake her up when a cry of distress came from their room. He hurried to her side, Hinata was holding onto his pillow on the verge of tears.

“You weren’t here when I woke up” Her voice was meek and trembling. “I could hear movement in the kitchen, I knew you were there. So why, why does your absence hurt this much, despite me knowing you are here?”

He wished he had the answer, but he didn’t. He moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed, cupping her face with one hand, slowly brushing the skin under her eye with his thumb. Sasuke leaned in slowly to hiss her nose, cheek, forehead and finally the corner of her mouth. “I think to find out why, we might need some help from the outside” he closed his eyes and sighed, his breath fanning over her lips. “I talked to a man named Iruka, he’s a therapist and agreed to meet with us later today, would you be open to this idea?”

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

Hinata looked at him, searching his eyes and expression for any malice or negative feelings, but there was none, his openness and desire to help led her to agree to his plan, maybe they did need help.

“From what you’ve told me, this is a severe case of separation anxiety,” Iruka said, he looked kind and bore no ill feelings, Hinata had been afraid of the judgmental look he’d give her after hearing about her actions, but his eyes remained warm and understanding. “This usually manifests itself in small children, they are afraid to part from their caregivers even for a moment. In certain cases, it is believed it could appear in pregnant women as well, and usually the caregiver is their partner. Is there any possibility of this being true?”

Both Sasuke and Hinata’s eyes opened wider at the word pregnant, there was most certainly a possibility of that. They were always careful while having sex, however, Hinata was not on birth control, for they affected her badly whenever she took them as a teen so their method of contraception were condoms alone. There’s always the possibility of one breaking, a faulty one, or just them being part of the 0.01% of the population for which condoms did not work perfectly.

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

“I suggest you take a pregnancy test as well. As I mentioned, this is known to happen now and again so do not worry too much; however, this anxiety can affect you negatively” Iruka continued while looking at Hinata “the best way to deal with this is steady growth. In the early stages constant contact is preferred. Think of this as building up trust once again. Constant reassurance is important, always keeping promises, separation needs to happen slowly over time; from constant touch to simply being in the same room but at a safe distance, then being in separate rooms, then Hinata being alone but in a familiar and comfortable space for short periods of time. Of course, this process takes months. For some women the anxiety dies down with the birth, for others in continues after but through steady built of trust it can disappear”

They followed Iruka’s advice and went to Hinata’s gyno the next day and Iruka’s assumption proved to be true, Hinata was indeed pregnant in week 7. They were currently in the first stage of their trust-building, being in the same room, always touching. Hinata sat in his lap while they watched a movie, they held hands whenever they were outside, they’d keep bumping feet under the table as they ate. Sasuke had basically moved into her apartment, neither of them went to work. Sasuke was able to do most of his job remotely, however, Hinata applied for medical time off. Everything was going great, Hinata no longer experienced that painful longing, however, her pregnancy turned out to be a quite difficult one, as soon as they found out she was indeed pregnant, her morning sickness started, she had constant back pain and her appetite was very volatile. They’d often wake up in the middle of the night and drive around the city to find one of her cravings. During a particularly bad night 2 months after, her craving for watermelon in the winter proved difficult, to add to the issue her back pain was excruciating so she could not stay in the car for however long it would take them to find watermelon.

“Do you think…you would be all right if you stayed here and I went to find it for you…?” they had barely moved on from the ‘always touching’ stage, the process was slow but it was there.

“I…don’t know…”

“What do you want me to do Hina? You can’t even sit up properly, being in the car for maybe an hour would we awful, but being here alone would too…but it’s unwise to not follow your cravings either” He was spiralling, the situation was stressful and all he wanted was to be able to help her, he wanted to take her pain away, he wanted to give her everything she’d ever want and more.

“I think, I will be fine” Hinata finally said after thinking for a bit longer. Almost in slow motion, he nodded, ‘ok, ok, ok’ he murmured to himself as he put his winter coat over his pyjamas and stood on the bed to put his boots on. “I’ll go find you watermelon, ok? I will be back as soon as I can. I love you” he kissed her cheek and then the top of her head. She smiled and waved, but the moment his back turned to her, her smile wavered. Would she really be ok…?

Sasuke ran down the stairs to the car, he wanted to be away for as little as possible. He pulled out of the driveway and sped up as much as possible. Firstly, he’d look at the local non-stop supermarket, at the ‘exotic’ or ‘out of season’ shelf, if it wasn’t there he’d go to the local Korean market and buy some watermelon flavoured things, just in case there was nothing else anywhere; before he could think of where he’d go next his phone rang. Seeing Hinata’s name he answered immediately.

“come back…please” she was trying not to cry, he could hear it. He did an illegal U-turn and sped even more towards their apartment “I’m coming, I’ll be there in 5 minutes” Hinata replied with an ‘ok’ however she didn’t hang up, she needed to at least be on the line with him. Sasuke didn’t hang up either, not when we pulled into the driveway, not when he stopped the car, nor when he ran up the stairs. He only hung up when Hinata was in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, I thought I could, but you left and I…” she was sobbing so hard it was even difficult to understand her. “It’s ok, it’s not your fault, we moved too fast. Iruka said it’s slow. It’s no problem Hina, we can just start over” If her constantly touching him was what made her feel safe, he’d hold her close until she was ready. No more rushing of things. Once Hinata calmed down, Sasuke called Itachi.

“I’m sorry to wake you up but I need some help…could you look for some watermelon?”

#sasuhinamonth #sasuhina #sasuhina fanfic #shmonth #sasuke #hinata #hinata hyuuga #susake uchiha #hyuuga #uchiha #dia story #diawrites #naruto #day3

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Text

Loving You Is A Losing Game - chapter ten

wc: 3k

pairing: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson, Alex Karev/Izzie Stevens (mentioned), Jo Wilson/Paul Stadler (mentioned)

chapter summary: alex and jo have an argument.

rating: teen audiences and up.

chapter category: angst. hurt/comfort.

warnings: implied sex, cheating on spouse/adultery, guilt, crying, yelling, implied/referenced domestic abuse, language.

A/N: this is terrible. majority of it was written six months ago, but i don't have the effort to re-write 2000 words. i'm going to be wrapping this up in a few chapters. my personal life is very hectic right now, so i don't know when that will be, but this series is going to be coming to an end in about four or so chapters. hope you enjoy!

____

~*~

"giving us up didn't take a lot, i saw the end 'fore it began"

~*~

six months. six months since that conference in boston.

five months. five months since they saw each other again.

in the six months they'd known each other, they'd spent three weekends together. the current one being the fourth. alex and jo lay in bed together as they’d done so many times before, his fingers running up and down his arm while she drew circles on his chest. this had become normal; a habit. being with each other was so completely and utterly normal.

how wrong was that? the fact that they felt more normal with each other than they ever had with anyone else in their life. how wrong was it that they were cheating, but yet it managed to feel normal. being with each other somehow managed to feel so right.

except now things weren't the same as it had been four months ago. four months ago, they craved the touch of each other, the ability to make one another feel something.

now they didn't just crave the touch.

it was torture to be away from her. he longed for her; her skin, her scent, her lips. he longed for her touch, her words, her slender fingers, her mind. he wanted it, every second of every day he wanted it. but no matter how much he wanted it, she wasn’t his to have.

she missed him. she missed him while lying on the sofa, while sitting in class. his hands, his secure hold, his witty brain, his skillful lips, the movements of his fingers as they twirled with her hair. she missed him. it was such a messed up situation that they had put themselves in, but no matter how much space he took up in her mind, he wasn’t her’s to have.

the saturday afternoon sun trickled in through the sheer white curtains, the orange glow gleaming against their skin. it was so sound, so serene, as if nothing could go wrong if they stayed like this. in all honesty, they wished they could.

the sound of a text tone going off momentarily pops their bubble, jo letting out a groan of protest as she recognizes the beep as her's. she begrudgingly untangles herself from alex's hold, immediately missing the warmth it provided. she fishes her phone out of the bottom of her bag, small smile on her face as she can feel his eyes on her backside. the smile leaves her face once she sees his name on the screen.

Paul: Going to be a day late. I'll be back on Monday.

Brooke: okay. hope everything is good up there

whatever bubble they had preserved was now destroyed; the guilt of everything they were doing finally catching up to her in one swift motion, like a tidal wave unexpectedly crashing on shore. alex notices the change of atmosphere in the room as jo stands at the foot of the bed, a look he can't recognize splayed across her delicate features. he sends her a questioning glance, which she only responds by setting her eyes downcast, focusing on the floor as if it were the only thing in the room.

the silence in the air is heavy, the usual comfort that it usually held was gone. it hadn't been like this for them in months, not since waking up next to each other for the first time and not knowing who the person they spent the night with was.

jo sighs, shaking her head as she begins to pace the room, stopping in front of the window and looking back at him. "we can't keep doing this." she whispers, her voice breaking halfway through.

alex throws his head back onto the pillow, closing his eyes and running a hand down his face as he lets out a breath slowly. "i know." he speaks softly.

jo feels anger rise up inside of her, not sure if it was directed at herself or the man on the bed. "really?!" she shouts, "do you know alex? do you know!" she throws her hands around , nearly knocking the glass off the small table in the process.

the man sits up from his position on the bed, thankful that he still had his boxers on. "you think i don't know jo?" he asks, dumbfounded at her words, brow furrowing in confusion.

"i'm cheating on my husband!" she yells, trying to stop her eyes from watering, to no avail. she knows he knew how wrong this was. how wrong all of it was. why hadn't they stopped? why had they even started to begin with?

"and i'm cheating on my wife!" he argues back, studying her as she looks down at her feet, avoiding eye contact as she turns the curtain fabric beneath her fingers, biting her bottom lip in a worthless attempt to prevent it from wobbling.

she lets a few beats pass, a lone tear sliding down her cheek. "i know." she whispers dejectedly, watching as the people below carried on with their days. she stared as couples held each other's hands while walking across the street, mothers pushed small children in bulky strollers down crowded sidewalks. dads carried their sons on their shoulders, providing them a sense of security along with feeling like they were on top of the world. elderly couples gave each other adoring looks, ones that hadn't faded no matter how many years they had spent together. all of them were oblivious to the turmoil occurring a few stories above them in room four twenty six. everyone on the concrete streets was happy. they were okay.

why couldn't they be like that? why couldn't they be normal? why couldn't they have simply avoided their desires that night?

why, why, why.

alex appears behind her, pushing back the other curtain to look at the view she was seeing. they were all so carefree. they didn't know what it was like to have this boulder of guilt hanging over them every second of every day, one subtle movement threatening to tip it over the edge and crush everything beneath it.

he sighs. "i know exactly what it's like jo." she takes her hand in his, her thumb beginning to rub back and forth over his knuckles, something she had learned calmed her down. his touch always seemed to relax her. it was something she could melt into, like the safety of falling backwards, knowing that she'd be caught before she hit the ground.

she looks at him, tearing her eyes away from the calming scene underneath them. "why can't we just stop?" she asks him, her eyes staring at him like he held all the answers she wished to receive.

"i don't know." he answers honestly, not having the heart to look at her, focusing his attention on the business man shuffling through the crowd, talking on his cell phone while simultaneously trying to keep his briefcase from hitting the others around him.

but they both did know. they couldn't stop because of their feelings. it had stopped being just sex a long time ago. stupid, god damn feelings.

they knew it was there. the flutters in their stomach when the other person laughed, the constant need to have their hands on each other, not to mention, how much it pained them to be away from one another. that wasn't how it was supposed to be. you weren't supposed to have these feelings for someone you were sleeping with. it was supposed to be just sex. simple, goddamn amazing sex and nothing more.

they were falling, falling into dangerous territory. they were falling where there should be a safe place for them to land, but rather instead, waiting for them was a pit of roses with jagged thorns that would cut their skin and tear them apart, ripping them and bleeding until scars covered their bodies to the point they could no longer tell who they were. they were playing with fire, it was only a matter of time before they got burned.

"we need to stop this." she whispers again, making him finally meet her gaze before he turns away again.

alex flutters his eyes shut, leaning his forehead against the cool glass window. "we do." he sighs, angling his head so he could look at her. "but do we really want to?" his eyes bore into hers so intensely she couldn't look away, no matter how hard she tried. they weren't sure who the question was directed to more, him or her.

she knew she needed to stop. she needed to stop betraying her vows. she needed to stop being unfaithful to her husband; she needed to. but when she was with alex, she was free. she could talk about whatever she wanted, she didn't need to try to impress him. she was able to be herself. she was able to feel good about herself around him.

her bottom lip wobbles as she shakes her head from side to side, shutting her eyes tightly, a desperate attempt to not let the tears escape. "no." she lets out a sob, slapping a hand over her mouth to stop her cries from becoming too loud. tears streamed down her face, a mix of anger, guilt, and sorrow made up the salty liquid. but underneath it was relief, relief that she had finally admitted to herself and to alex that she wanted this. "goddamn it, i don't wanna stop." she lets the words tumble out of her mouth as she gnaws on her bottom lip. she looks up at him, pleading that he felt that same way, hoping that she wasn't making something up in her head.

alex pulls her in by the side, not noticing how she ever so slightly winces, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head, an act so tender he hardly ever did it for anyone but her. "i don't wanna stop either jo," he whispers softly into her locks of brown keeping his chin rested on her head as he moves behind her, holding her from the back, securing his arms around her waist and clasping her fidgety hands in his. he rubs soothing patterns over her knuckles, causing her to lean back into him, her figure molding into his perfectly. she breathed out a sigh of relief, relaxing at his gentle, safe touch. she missed a lot of things about alex when they were away from each other, but his touch was always the thing she longed for the most, and not just his touch under the covers. she missed what he was doing right now; how he would draw patterns on her hips, or wrap an arm around him as she leaned into his side as they lay in bed, laughing at whatever played on the TV. she missed how he would rub soothing circles over the tight spots on her neck, just harshly enough to soothe the dull ache that sat there, but not hard enough to hurt. she missed the simple acts of tenderness that he would do without even realizing it.

what he always missed about jo was her eyes. they were what drew him in the first time he saw her, the thing that made him unable to break his stare, no matter how hard he tried. he couldn't figure out what color they were, even after a countless number of hours staring directly into them. were they golden or hazel? green or brown? he didn't know, because in the dark they looked hazel with flecks of gold, but in the light they looked like pools of honey that sparkled as if they were under the stars. her eyes always gave her thoughts away. fear, worry, happiness; her eyes told him it all. he practically felt dizzy every time she would look up at him through hooded eyelids, messy hair framing her face in a way that just seemed to make her even more beautiful. he could never say no to her eyes.

"we'll be okay," he reassures her.

she lets out a long breath, sinking even more into him, comforted by the familiar smell that she couldn't get enough of. "we'll be okay."

____

water cascaded down her body, washing off the suds and circling down the drain, makeup stained water collecting at the bottom and disappearing down the pipes. she felt disgusted by herself, a myriad of careful covered, faded bruises littering her abdomen and sides. makeup was the only way alex hadn’t been able to discover her secret, since he never held a tight hold on her, his touches always soft and gentle.

she’d had to cancel their meetings three times, coming up with different excuses on every occasion he asked. i have the stomach bug. paul’s dad cancelled their get together, he’s staying home this week. too big of a test coming up to not spend every second studying. he never batted an eyelash, because why would he? they were trying—trying so hard to keep what they were doing under wraps, in order to continue. so if that meant cancelling, he wasn’t going to complain, as long as he knew that he was going to get to see her again.

she didn’t want to know what would happen if he knew the real reason she was calling off his visits, nor did she ever want to ever find out. he was a protective guy, and learning about what his dad had done to him and his siblings when he was younger was sure to bring up buried memories that he had worked so hard to overcome.

with a sigh she scrubs the shampoo out of her hair, closing her eyes and resting her head against the cool tile of the shower’s walls . she traces the bruises with her fingers, relieved when they don’t make her cry out in pain. it had been a few days after all, giving her time to heal.

it was getting better. she knew now what made him mad, and how to avoid the contact of his fists. she knew not to overcook the chicken, she knew not to ever start eating before him, and she knew that he liked to have the house spotless by the time he got home. he worked on his feet so long every day that all he really wanted once he got home was to see his wife and arrive to a clean house and a good dinner. it was getting better.

(it wasn’t really, because it seemed as if every time she learned not to do something that set him off, another thing seemed to pop in that angered him. a never ending cycle is what is was, but she still believed that someday it was all going to be okay)

she rinses the last of the conditioner out of her hair, turning off the water and listening to the soft hums of the TV play through from the other room.

she takes her time, a ritual alex hasn’t questioned by now. she uses the blow dryer as an excuse, when she’s really using foundation to carefully cover the discolorations on her skin. alex’s laugh causes her to lift her head up, worried that he would come into the room, but she relaxes when she doesn’t hear footsteps padding towards the door.

letting herself smile, she revels in it; the moments of peace brought by these hotel rooms. at home she had to worry about the time she left for school, the appearance of the house, and what sort of mood her husband would be in when he got home. here, her biggest worries were whether or not alex forgot to order food for them.

when she's fully covered (hair done to not raise any suspicions) she enters the room once more, watching from the doorway as alex laughs at another thing on the screen.

she casts a glance to the table that sat to the right of their bed, she feels her heart drop, another wave of guilt washing over her.

their opposing rings sat there, off of their fingers and discarded safely onto the side table; a way to distance themselves from the true reality of what they were doing. her ring was silver. his was gold.

they only had another hour or so before they would have to leave, back to their homes and the people they truly belonged to. she lays next to him, leaning her head on his chest when he pulls her in.

“remember,” he starts, his voice muffled thanks to his lips being in her hair. “whenever you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

she nods. “and whenever you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

he places another kiss on the crown of her head, turning his attention back to the sitcom playing on the TV. they had discussed a while back, that once what they were doing got to be too much, all they needed to do was say so and it would be over with, no questions asked.

he had it bad for her. he lo— needed her. but if she ever chose to end this, go back to being the faithful wife she was while a ring still sat on her finger, he wouldn’t hold her back, he would never wish to cause her pain.

she had it bad for him. she lo—needed him. but if he ever chose to end this, go back to being the faithful husband he was while a ring still sat on his finger, she wouldn’t hold him back, she would never wish to cause him pain.

they had each other, but at the same time they didn’t; they couldn’t. because once the weekend was over they would go back to the lives they actually lived, no longer in a fantasy bubble they had created to pull themselves away from the outside world; the real world.

in the hotel rooms, they could live in a world where they were the only two that existed, nothing in the way of being with each other the way they wanted to.

their holds on each other tighten, and only one thing is going through the both of their minds, a silent mantra that helps get them through.

they'll be okay.

(but will they?)

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capricornsims · 3 years

Text

Strangetown Mystery 15: RUN

“ We’re stuck here because you!”

“ I don’t want to argue about this, Johnny. I love you, and I want to keep all of you safe. “

That was the last conversation Johnny had with his father.

Hope was long gone, buried in the cyclone of purple spores that poisoned the air. The streets of Strangetown were silent save for the groaning of spore-infected zombies, most people stood inside these days, too afraid to venture out and encounter their fallen brethren or become infected themselves. The weather that day would have been sunny if the spore clouds didn’t hang low in the atmosphere.

Unaffected by the bizarre spores, Johnny often ventured out of the Bunker to catch the glimpses of the outside world beyond the barbed wire fence. Looking out into the horizon only drove home the fact that his family was nowhere near freedom, things were only going to get worse and he had his adulthood to look forward to living inside of a concrete box… or being transported to Division 47 to be experimented on… After all, he had not seen his father in weeks and questioning Buzz was out of the question. The General said that PT9 was running experiments, but what if he was being experimented on? He watched his family’s morale deteriorate after their father disappeared behind the laboratory doors. His mother dropped whatever façade she was putting on, choosing to stay locked in her bedroom holding onto the last piece that she had of PT9. Meanwhile, Jill was growing even more restless crying herself to sleep most of the time, and lighting things on fire in rebellion. Johnny did not want to acknowledge the schemes his uncles were plotting, the last time he saw Pascal enter the lab he looked completely insane!

Johnny needed to get out. The cement walls of the Bunker only served as a reminder of the freak of nature that he was, the result of an unorthodox union between a human and some extraterrestrial species. Jill even got it in her head that she deserved to be imprisoned, feeling “safe” in confinement compared to the outside world. The thought of being trapped forever instilled a fear that Johnny never felt before, as if the walls around him were closing in on him, so tight that he could not escape and return to the life he made for himself in Strangetown. If he ended up behind the laboratory doors, he would never see Ophelia or Ripp again… he needed to RUN.

He returned to the bunker before he rose suspicion, entering the bleak facility once more. The cell that his family resided in held an uncomfortable atmosphere of dread, masked by Jenny’s failed attempts at keeping things normal. That night she burned the food again because she was spacing out at the wall, too deep in her thoughts to notice Johnny turn off the stove and lead her to the couch.

Johnny: I made up my mind. I’m leaving tonight.

Jenny: Leaving? Now? I mean- what would your father think if he returned.

Johnny: If he returned? It’s been weeks… You and I both know that he would visit every day if he was actually working here.

Jenny: Don’t say such things… he is fine.

Johnny could tell she was at the brink of snapping, her smile faltered as she gripped onto his arm.

Jenny: He is fine…he’s going to come back.

She reassured herself, but the tears streaming down her face said differently. She turned to her son and nodded in agreement, she had a feeling that something was very wrong with their situation. Jenny had to face the guilt that she failed to protect her husband but she had a chance when it came to her children. If Johnny escaped the bunker, she would know he was safe. Her first son was always resilient and the harsh words he dealt with over the years made sure of that. It was hard enough to see her son grow up so fast, and the thought of throwing her firstborn out into the dangers of the infected world scared her.

Johnny: I am going to be fine, mom. I swear Ripp is going to get me to Deadtree. That is where Ophelia lives so I can hide out there.

Jenny: I know you will be fine… but I can’t help but worry that my boy is running out into an apocalypse. But whatever it is you have a better chance in Deadtree than in here. Tell Ophelia I said hi...

Johnny: If dad does show up, tell him that I’m okay, and I that I’m sorry for yelling at you guys.

Jenny: I’m sure he already knows… He’s proud of you.

Tears welled up in his eyes when she mentioned his father. A pang of guilt struck at his heart knowing that their last conversation had been an argument... and even then his father would still be proud of him. Now was not the time to be emotional, but the tight hug his mom was giving him, let some tears escape before he pulled away.

Johnny leaned down to his little sister, and she wrapped arms around him tightly and hugged him close. She clung to him like a koala so he couldn’t pull away if he tried.

Jill: Promise me that you’ll come back!

Johnny: Can’t promise much but the next time you see me we’re getting out of here!

Jill: Then come back sooner !!

Johnny: Look after mom, and baby bro. I will be back soon.

Jenny: Watcher, protect this boy. Don’t let him get hurt.

3:00 a.m.

Johnny approached the general store just as it was about to close, the sight of Ripp leaning against the wall filled him with relief as he approached him. The stars shone brightly in the sky and the sound of crickets and coyotes filled the air as they spoke. He could hardly contain his excitement as Ripp shoved snacks into his shirt pockets and planned their escape. This was happening, he was going to be free or die trying in the process.

Johnny: Alright Ripp let’s get the hell out of here! Where is the car?

Ripp: Car? We don’t have a car. The best chances we have is if we run as fast as we can until we reach the edge of town.

Johnny: RIPP! That’s insane! We can’t run that fast!

Ripp: Keep it down dude... Look I disabled Tank’s computer, he won’t be able to check the security cameras until someone fixes them... plus we need to at least try.

Johnny: Fine we will go with your plan just open the gates already so we can get a head start.

3:05 a.m.

Ripp opened the gates of the compound, the loud sound of creaking metal rang through the air as the teens slipped through the small crack that they made. What was the point of being stealthy when their plan involved running for their lives! Johnny and Ripp shared laughter as they bounded through the desert, exposed to the outside world and tasting freedom for the first time in ages. Johnny couldn’t believe that this was actually working since Ripp’s other plan was to “Run faster!”. But so far, They were in the home run!

Tank: Huh... All the cameras seem frozen.. F*ck I need to tell the General about this.

3:10 a.m.

Jenny: Do you really think head counts at this time is sane?!

Buzz: JENNY NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR GAMES. WHERE IS THAT GREEN BASTARD?!

Jenny: I don’t know Buzz... maybe he’s in the bathrooms or went out for fresh air.

Buzz: THAT IS GENERAL BUZZ GRUNT TO YOU- I ONLY COUNTED TWO of YOU! Where is the SON!

Jenny: WHERE IS MY HUSBAND GENERAL BUZZ GRUNT?! Shouldn’t YOU be more concerned that he isn’t here!?

Buzz: I-I know where he is I am asking about your -

Tank: * over the phone * General, the security cams are tampered with, someone must have messed with them.

Buzz: * over the phone * Not now, Tank I am with Mrs. Smith....What?! What do you mean messed with,Tank?! ... What do you MEAN THE GATE IS OPEN!?

He heard he alarms blare out, signaling the escape of Johnny Smith. His face grew a deep shade of red, the sound of Jenny’s frantic nagging pierced his ears as his mind tried to conceive what the hell was going on. He escorted Jenny back to her cell, trying to ignore her comments about PT9 and the way she broke down when she was locked inside. “ Don’t hurt him!” Was the last thing he heard as he rushed out of the bunker towards the open gate.

3:15 a.m.

The General shoved Tank out of the way, yelling at the top of his lungs about how incompetent's he was, the alarms blared as they stood there, looking out at the expansive desert and the darkness ahead of them. Through the haze of the darkness there were vague sounds of shuffling zombies and coyotes

Buzz: I’m going after them! Do your job and watch the bunker, soldier!

The cool night air was thick with spores as Johnny and Ripp ran through the infected desert. The cyclone rose into the sky, as lightning struck into the crater, a great rumbling shook the ground beneath their feet as growls rang through the sky. Johnny even spotted one of the infected, dazed and sputtering nonsense as she moved and jerked around them. He had no time to waste taking in the absolute disaster that Strangetown had become. Freedom in this new world felt odd, sure he was safe from becoming a science experiment, but now he was exposed to the infection, the zombies and the townsfolk that knew who he was... He couldn’t wait to get to Dead Tree after all of this.

3:15 a.m.

Buzz: I WILL CAPTURE YOU SMITH! YOU CAN’T RUN FOREVER!

Buzz: MARK MY WORDS, BOY YOU WILL BE SORRY!

Buzz: RUN ALL YOU WANT BUT YOU CANNOT ESCAPE!

4:00 a.m

Johnny and Ripp broke out of the desert and into the other town located near by. The atmosphere was eerie and a thick fog hung over the neighborhood as they walked through the empty streets, the faint breeze carried the sounds of ethereal groans but the source was unknown. Ripp lead Johnny to one of the creepier buildings found in Deadtree, the Meeting house. The structure was foreboding and held the odd sensation that entering it would get them killed, yet this was where Ophelia lived now, and the only place Johnny could hide.

Johnny: Oh my watcher, thank you for helping me, Ripp. I can’t thank you enough.

Ripp: Any time bro, I wouldn’t know what to do If I found out that you were vivisected or something. It’s shady as hell so I’m glad I got you out first.

Johnny: Can you do me a solid and look after mom and Jill, they are still in danger...

Ripp: Heck yeah, I’ll even look out for your dad and see if he’s around. Anyways, I’m sure Ophelia is tired of waiting. Let’s get you inside.

Ophelia stood silently in the Meeting house, pacing around the small apartment she had above the main hall. She wore a plain brown jacket and the look on her face showed that she had not slept in ages. She turned when Ripp opened the door, a small smile formed on her lips as she asked about Johnny before turning back to the television she had on.

Johnny: Ophelia, I’m here. I made it out alive.

Ophelia: Johnny! You’re here! I missed you so much I could barely sleep. I’m so happy that you’re alive!

Johnny: I’m happy that i’m alive too... I am here to stay for a while so we can catch up a little.

Ophelia: I wouldn’t mind catching up with you, Johnny.

Johnny: Yeah we’ll get to that too. hehe

Ripp: Alright guys get a room. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.

Ophelia: Yeah right! Come with us, Ripp. I think we all just need a nice break.

Strangetown Mystery 15.5: Test Subject

The weeks following Nervous’ disappearance were agonizingly painful and dull at the same time. The moment he returned to the castle he was met with a sharp needle to the neck and the unwelcome prospect of newly designed experiments for him to be subject to. He had heard about the Strangetown Syndrome and the effects it had on the human brain, the way that it spread into the spinal chord and made the body into a vessel as the person remained in a state of unconsciousness. The way that it made the body jolt and convulse made the joints ache incredibly, the spores taking over had to get used to walking on two legs and speaking the way humans do, after all.

All of these notes were taken down by Loki and Circe during the weeks that Nervous remained grounded in the basement, he could only tell time from the shifting of light in the glass windows and the routine experiments Loki was running on him. His entertainment was swiftly taken away upon his return, and any hand-me-down clothes he owned were confiscated, leaving him in a simple cotton hospital gown. To make matters worse, the Beakers were not holding back on the level of their brutality, as form of punishment they rarely paid attention to his pleas of mercy and continued experiments without hesitation. Not that he was fully conscious most of the time, his mind overtaken with pain killers, sedatives and the spores infecting his brain.

Sometimes he could feel the world around him grow dark, the welcoming embrace of nothingness enveloping his body and bringing him out of the world of pain and sadness he was in. The cold boney hands of death never touched him, but he begged for him to do so, the more he pleaded for escape the bastard only spared his life, returning him to the excruciating routine of electrocutions and chemical baths. He never understood why Death never came to him, over so many years he’s seen him many times bringing him a few seconds of relief before he woke up to Loki and Circe prodding his dying body. They seemed to enjoy the prospect that even he couldn’t escape through death.

Today, Nervous wasn’t sure what Loki was doing with him, only mindlessly following orders as the scientist tapped away at machines and made things glow and buzz. Sometimes the machines took a scan of him, sometimes they electrocuted him- he wouldn’t be surprised if it did, his right arm lost feeling long ago because of it.

Nervous: What are we doing...today..Loki.

Loki: Silence ! You, nervous subject, address me as Dr. Beaker in this lab.

Nervous: *grumble* Dr. Beaker.. What are we doing today?

Loki: I’m glad you asked, test subject. We are revolutionizing medicine in this lab. The Curious brothers have failed to produce a viable antidote in the time The Government allotted them. So I, Loki Beaker went out of my way to generously aid the public and produce a vaccine for them.

Nervous: I - don’t think that’s -

Loki: LEGAL? Well, Nervous, now’s not the time to do things the legal route. People are desperate, and they will come to ME for a cure. Thanks to you, my Nervous subject, people will be cured.

Loki: Now drink the f*cking antidote!

Nervous: No thank you! I’ve drank enough today. I can’t keep food down...I’m tired.

Loki: I will be sure to write that down...but THIS is a new formula. THIS will work, So DRINK IT!

Nervous: No! I said I was tired, Loki...

Loki: DR. BEAKER - How many times do we have to go through this? And you are tired? Nervous, you aren’t the one slaving away at this antidote! I AM! All you do is drink it and puke up all my work! You are Lucky that I don’t throw you out into the street!

Nervous: We have been doing this for weeks, Dr. Beaker, it’s not going to work.

Loki: I have been doing this for weeks. Nervous, we have come so far from the beginning. You don’t cough up blood, break out into rashes, or shake uncontrollably anymore. This. Will. Work.

The mad scientist forced Nervous to sit down in the chair next to them. His face was a deep seething red as the beaker was tipped into his test subject’s mouth. Nervous had no choice but to choke down the purple liquid while Loki glared down at him, making sure that he kept the chemical mixture in. The antidote tasted sweet at first, then the burning began at the back of his throat and spread throughout his body. He dropped the beaker and the glass shattered across the stone floor, sending Loki in a fit of rage as Nervous doubled over in pain.

Nervous could not make out the onslaught of Icelandic curses, he could hear the beating in his heart along with an ear piercing ringing. He felt his joints tense and ache as the world grew dark once more, but this was not death... Death was comforting even if temporary, this was excruciating.

Loki: That’s IT I’ve had it with you! You are clearly nothing but a useless guinea pig.....get out.....you are nothing....die...

Loki’s words were drawn out in between the ringing. The last thing he could feel were rough hands grabbing at his shoulders, lifting him out of the chair and dragging him across the stone floors.

The cool desert air hit his skin as he crumbled to the ground somewhere in front of the castle. Nothing mattered now....

ŦĦ€ ΜØŦĦ€Ř ĆΔŁŁED ΔŇĐ HE ΜUŞŦ Ř€ŞPØŇĐ

#strangetown #strangerville #strangetown mystery #johnny smith #jenny smith #buzz grunt #Ripp Grunt #Ophelia Nigmos #jill smith #Loki Beaker #nervous subject #tank grunt

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 67

English Composition broke off the animated chatter of the latest slew of papers that mentioned the President’s words and then delved to new directions while you settled into the new desk off the side of the front row without an attached desk. A few days back in the former week the evident inch to the side you made to avoid squishing your belly with the L shaped attached desk that brought out one of the desks set aside for the occasional expecting mothers to begin the start of the difference of your place in classes. Beginnings of more changes that were to come while eyes could now gauge just how long you might have left and every loop of your arms around the protruding belly that occasionally you amusingly rested things on top of to find comfortable positions or angles to work with as much ease as possible.

Trig and Calculus held more room in their desks for the men usually in use of them. The latest stories on new discoveries from the new large telescopes were brought out for Astronomy and books were consulted to enforce what facts and details were necessary to understand the news fully. A sudden glance to the clock on the wall by one student when the class felt a bit long had you all scramble for gathering your things to free seats for the incoming students while you made for the next class. The empty seat for you seemed to put a lock on your Sociology class that all looked your way when you came in a few minutes late. One hushed apology and an explanation and in relief the Professor began the lesson when you took your seat after a chuckle at the distraction from the latest news from space.

Hot and humid random bouts of breezes from open windows and turning fans to the final class after having spent a good part of the last class with a spare bit of folded paper in hand to keep cool. Quick and sharp mid paragraph on an argument to answer the prompt given a shriek left your lips at the feathery body that collapsed onto your desk. Over your lips to the shiver of feathers and fix of wings your hand settled for a wide eyed stare at the now upright Barred Owl that sat atop your desk that blinked at you to the open of the classroom door revealing the twins who wide eyed found you and the reason for your shriek that called them there.

The soft squeak heard in the silent room had its head turn and named the reason why it had flown in, a small mouse was snatched up and carried back out the open window. Quietly the twins eased back out of the classroom while your Professor came over to help pick up your things that had been scattered to the floor uncertain of what to say other than to remind of how much longer he was to give the class to finish filling out the sheet. To a pat of your free hand on your belly you got back to the assignment that afterwards two people were chosen to share their answers with the rest of the lesson to follow. Another note however once class was called found you on the way back to the fake courtroom again where you flashed a grin to the students gathered there.

The TA came over at the side of the lead Professor who grinned and greeted you, “Welcome, welcome. Heard you had a mishap with an owl.”

“Oh, ya, flew in a window to chase a mouse and landed on my desk. No harm done. These cases better than the last two?”

The Ta said, “Well, Divorce Hearing and an Art Heist Trial. Hard to have as many difficulties as before, these two Lawyers do try to make difficult cases with new plot lines compared to the first two.”

You nodded and glanced to the preteen near to one of the students who was accepting a packet of his own and asked, “That kid is part of the cases too?”

The Professor nodded, “Yes, Billy’s brother to stand in as his son for the case. Usually hangs around after his class gets out so they can head home together and in a couple weeks will be out of class and have plenty of time to come and help with the Divorce Hearing if we did need a testimony from the child involved.”

“How is there the same amount of evidence for these cases as the first two? I take it there’s one for the divorce and the rest are for the heist?”

“Half and half actually,” that had you huff.

“Let me guess, I get to read another diary of the loosest men and women legally tethered together.”

The TA as you accepted the clipboard to sign the form to accept the file boxes now loaded onto a dolly by him smirked saying, “I wish we had more to offer case wise than attacks on character and morals. You must be exhausted of it after having to read the first set of evidence.”

In passing back the clipboard to the 2nd Professor who approached you replied, “We can barely go a mass without hearing the word whore, I’m not exhausted the word has lost its sting and I’m just disappointed honestly at the lack of imagination. I know children who can reduce grown men to tears if they need help on that front they could even consult Officer Browen’s boy, he could blow these cases out of the water for what they could be.”

Making the men chuckle and grin to the TA who said, “True, very true. Hopefully next year we could add in a line of teens to run these cases by. You know I can’t remember going through a week of high school without crying.” He said playfully on your joint step to the door and he asked, “You?”

“Well, I was an orphan in a Catholic School, practically disowned and I can’t remember speaking without my voice cracking until I got into the school in Canada that got us girls enrolled in Nursing courses to help the efforts.”

“They really got you in high school?” He paused and said, “I know you’re young, but how young were you?”

“Fifteen, for the Nursing courses, then um, I was sixteen when me and Eddie got sent to that base hospital. I’m 22 now, got my GED a couple years after I’d have graduated high school. So my odd timeline is a bit jumbled compared to normal education markers.”

“Wow, 22, and that’s with a Bachelor’s Degree of Medicine?”

“Science, but, same horse different hat.”

“And with babies on the way in the middle of more degree hunting. And I thought my working nights while at school was rough.”

“My dad worked in a factory to fund his try for a degree here and to save money for my schooling and my other brother Steve’s. Neither of them got to their degree but I am determined to get to the finish line.”

“Well save for more owl attacks you should get there in no time,” he joked and you chuckled to yourself and slowly took the few steps between wings he eased the dolly down the steps. Excited chatter picked up to the soft sway of the fan in your hand to try and bring up any details that could let on how much fun or how long these two cases might last.

James outside of the car smiled in opening the trunk for him and helped to load up the six cases then watched the TA hurry back while you lowered into the car to sit down out of the sun. Behind you the boxes were levitated to the library where you settled the Art Heist Evidence that your family gladly listened to the case that had one twin out of a pair that could both likely be culpable for the crime. And yet the one on trial had a sound seeming alibi merely for the hint that the lead in charge of the investigation had a grudge with him. The twin spurned his daughter years prior and contrasting the ridiculous crime itself.

With little proof they arrested him for the robbery on Mr Barnham’s mansion, one of several he owns, while he threw a costume party at another. Several priceless gold statues along with gem accented decorations were taken along with a solid ruby/ivory/ebony piano and a variety of black market paintings and marbles. Almost all of the black market pieces were returned to the museums and exhibits they were stolen from. The gem based goods are still missing. All the portraits and statues were replaced by ones modeled around cats.

Every testimony was read through before you closed the box after finishing on the alibi for the twin on trial that had you hope they pulled that up quick to have you throw the case out. Although for your luck you knew they would want to stretch it out to use as much of the information given as possible.

Emil Schmidt – Age 32, Job – Advertising, Parents well off, Met in high school. Has had several affairs then he filed for separation. Already in new relationship with latest mistress who is a co-worker. That was the Husband in the mix before you delved into the Wife and child.

Wife – Sylvia Schmidt – Age 31. Daughter of a painter, painter herself, mother is a concert pianist. Tried to file for separation before then she found out she was pregnant and had to stay with him for son’s sake. Their nine year old son was in several clubs with great grades.

The witnesses for the Husband sprawled out from bad to worse and almost had you in a fight against tears for what these pretend people were saying about this nonexistent woman. Friend who tries to say wife could be a better mom and wasn’t a good wife. Former Boss of hers in gallery to say she couldn’t keep up with employment to hint she would be unable to provide for son. A shrink he had consulted about her who hasn’t seen or spoken to her who diagnosed her as unstable. Assistant who says she demands gifts and is bad with and is after money.

Fully contrasting her witnesses that weren’t as venomous against him as his had been at her. Ex Mistress, bad breakup with hubby for younger woman, not the only one. Former Driver who says husband drinks heavily and has seen him degrade her over the years. Current Mistress of the Hubby. Tutor for son who says he’s been to both places and seen conditions son has to study in. Mom helps him but dad’s has more space for him to spread out his work.

Assets came next with little mention of anything concrete for the future of the family that furrowed your brows and had Eddie ask, “Problem with the case?”

“He has no will, no investments, doesn’t even own the house they’re fighting over,” you flipped the page, “Or the car.”

James rumbled, “That’s a terrible plan. Nine year old, what happens if he kicks it?”

Victor, “Even for the new Wife, no matter how young she is, I take it she’s younger than the current Mrs Schmidt?”

“Eleven years younger.” That had the brothers chortle and you said, “And eleven years older than their son.”

Eddie, “Now that’s shameful. One for the Mrs and two above all for the kid.” He pointed to James, “I mean you’re 117 years older than Bunny but even if there was an adult kid involved her and them wouldn’t be almost on even scales maturity wise. 9 is a short skip to teens when feelings and hormones start to rage and that Mistress just out of her teens relates more to the kid than the dad who grew up pre-Depression while she grew up after. I mean he’s old enough to have been drafted with a kid left behind and the Mistress was still in school probably running bond raises.”

Unable to help it you giggled and in Eddie’s rise to go help Teddy lift his bucket of colors that got stuck you caught James’ eye and made him ask you, “What’s funny?”

“What was your fake birth year again?”

That had him chuckle and Victor said, “You’re still half his age with the fake numbers. Bumped our years up a century.”

Norma giggled and leaned in to press a kiss to her husband’s cheek, “And you look phenomenal for your age.”

“Oh, Jeanie, I have that screenplay, or the first half of it, if you’ll check what I have for it?” She nodded and when you were helped up she joined you in the living room where you left your bag to offer her the notebook you had been writing the new draft inside to be typed up later on when it was finished properly up to par. Onto the chairs you settled and in her move to your side with use of a red pen you made note of the changes she mentioned on the pages for small things that could be expanded upon later in the new draft you would have completed by the days off.

Two more Photography Clubs and a meet up of the Paper came between you and your free Friday evening that had you with a second notebook to hold the draft for now the whole screenplay that you made note could possibly stretch the film to three hours if they cut nothing out. At your side with equally as furrowed brows Eddie typed up the second half of the screenplay while you typed up the first half on matching typewriters to get the task completed quicker. And by the time you were on the final page the doorbell sounded and with news of more casting news Stark came in and boasted to you all before with a smile he took hold of the first chunk of the screenplay he chose a chair to dig in to the more detailed layout.

“Bunny this is brilliant,” he said while Eddie took the final page he shook and laid on top of the upside down stack he stood to ease underneath your stack you added your own final page to moments prior to complete the hefty screenplay.

“I thought it might be a bit too thick actually.”

“No,” he said, “I love the extra bits, any that you’ve added. And it gives us some cushion for later to work with.”

“Well I think that’s all of it, so you won’t be held up by it.”

“I am not held up. But I can get this to the printer today and by tomorrow for the new copies of scripts to hand out. I’ll make sure you get a couple copies yourself on top of Norma’s.”

“Okay, hopefully I didn’t miss a typo in there.”

Eddie smirked and said, “There’s an x’ed out R in mine.”

Howard chuckled and said, “Doesn’t matter, the printer will skip that.”

“If anything I think Jeanie will have it memorized by the time you are filming, she’s given the drafts a few reads and given me some notes on how to fix it up.”

Jarvis beside him asked, “How do you plan to spend your day off?”

“Well Ambrose and her Husband are expecting us at the birthing class tonight. There’s only four moms in town due soon and the Nuns like even numbers, so even though they know the ins and outs they’re up for support.”

Howard said, “Didn’t you help with the three munchkins around here?”

“Ya, but still, it’s sort of expected and since I see another Doctor and not the Maternity Home here weekly they still invited me to participate in their classes. I mean three babies at once, could use all the tips I can get. And I think it’d be worth the giggle to have James mothering a doll. Him and Vic melt just tucking in Teddy’s bear in with him at nap time.”

Howard chuckled and said, “Well I hope it helps. Heard they even have meditation now for moms.”

“Just hope they don’t try to get me to lay down on the floor like they did with Gina in her last baby, I need a nest to lay down on my side and on my back is out of the question.”

Lunch was next in the absence of your guests and afterwards signaled Gina and her Husband’s arrival to escort you and James through town to the same Maternity Home where you saw the elated Nurses and Nuns there in the clinic you passed through. Beyond the mothers not so far along and those who had already given birth you felt eyes on your wide belly that was visible in the dips of your dark grey overall shorts that rested over the peach polka dot coated sleeveless blouse. Right beside you with hand on your back James strolled with a grin on his face for this next step that would hopefully help to warm you up to the change coming. Nervous slightly himself to see what the lessons were on since the last time he was expecting a child there were no prenatal classes to be had. As if Eddie and Victor’s sharing of classes had simply been wiped from his mind now that you were here. And the sight of Dr Roan who smiled widely had you smile back on the way to the side room where a quartet of mats were laid out on the floor.

“Ambrose, and Bunny,” the glasses wearing nurse with a Scottish accent said with a smile and said, “You two can get ready to settle onto your mats with daddy behind you.”

With a small grin you hushedly spoke with Ambrose and James to choose between the final two open mats where James lowered with hold of your hips to help you down to your knees. Gently to your right side you lowered to your hip after releasing the hands of the most experienced Nun who came to check on you herself after not having seen you since Teddy’s rough birth. “There you are Bunny.” Her smile spread to the sight of your tucking your legs underneath you in a slight lean forward that aided in James’ gentle stroke of your back as he settled his legs on either side of yours. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, made sure to eat first so the girls are in a good mood.”

“That is very good,” she said and moved to check on the other mothers making sure to recall to check on you later when the class was over.

The second soft speaking Nun who to the record that the Nurse with glasses turned on to set a calming mood for the beginnings of recommendations on positions, “And if you can stretch out your legs and lean back into Daddy’s chest.”

Her eyes landed on you that had you giggle and say, “I can’t stretch my legs straight out or my feet go numb when I’m upright.”

And softly she chuckled, “Best we don’t have that. Cross legged is just fine, and will help to stretch your pelvis and thighs for your babies.” Moving to stroll around the other couples while you smiled at Ambrose in her relax into her husband’s chest as James eased you back into his to take your weight and let you relax.

Talks and a few sparse jokes mingled through the guided show on breathing and close eyed guided meditation to help relax through birth until the talks of how baby shifts that a fellow young mom to be in the back was being guided through this by her mom. “This is where your down bellows sneeze on you.”

That had you giggle along with James to the Nun saying, “The mucus plug is next to arrive on you, yes.”

That had Ambrose look your way and she giggled to your point her way as you said, “I remember for your second you let out this shriek in the toilets at the market, frightened that girl Bridget to almost wet herself thinking someone had broken in.”

James hummed, “Must have been a fun story to share with you,” to her Husband who smiled and shook his head.

You giggled again as Ambrose said, “Only thing more terrifying to him than a baby coming out was knowing there’s more to it than that.”

The Nun chuckled and guided you through the next set of steps and got into a few positions to help labor along until she asked each of you how you planned to have the babies you were carrying. Ending with you of course that had you giggle and say, “Bit hard to plan mine. My Doctor has been talking about either a push birth or a possible c-section. Planning for both I suppose.”

“Are you frightened about that?”

With a shrug you said, “They’re going to have to come out one way or another. And I seem to be following the plan superbly, and that’s a quote from my Doctor who would know the best way to go after having helped my mom have me.”

The other two mothers in more in depth conversations delved into that with the arrived Nurses from the now closed clinic with Dr Roan in their group who came to lower at your side and sit on the ground with a kind smile. “We are all glad to see you here today. Are you in the third trimester mark already?”

With a nod you answered, “28 weeks tomorrow, so just on the cusp of it.”

“And your next appointment is?”

“Tomorrow,” you said and to the shift of your belly his smile widened and you said, “They love to kick and wrestle around.”

“May I?” he asked in a lift of his hands and you nodded and guided his hands to rest a palm on each baby and the third the Nun felt.

“There’s a butt here, and this one’s a head, and a back here. At least for now until they swim around on me.”

The Nun asked, “Is your tummy always this stiff?”

“Only a few hours after I eat, then I get these weird gurgling noises and it all relaxes. My Doctor said it’s just my system adjusting to the new weight and moving gasses.”

That had her grin ease out as he said, “Well you seem to be growing very well with little signs of discomfort.”

A tape measure was produced with impressed grins at the size and shared presumed weight of four and a half pounds each so far by what you had gained taken as guesses by your Doctor. All promising of good signs you could make it to the final few weeks if possible. And all seemed to be in high spirits when your sister and brother in law led you and James back home to relax again and share about the first class.

Eisenhower broke the silence of the upright courtroom, “Good Afternoon, be seated.”

He sat next in the ripple of replied, “Good Afternoon, Your Honor.” and eyed the crowd who took their seats again to the approach of Officer McTavish who passed you a sheet of paper for the open file on the desk after he read, “Good Afternoon Judge. This is case number #. The State of New York vs Lewis Patzer.”

“Thank you Officer McTavish.” Your eyes shifted over the eager students in their assigned seats on Council and the trio on trial who simply were waiting for you to ask, “Are all parties and Council present?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” both sides stated and then the Prosecution stood for the one in the paler suit to speak, “District Attorney Antonio Speltzer for the Prosecution and this is Thomas Wnters for Assistant District Attorney.”

They sat down and while the judges took note of the progress to far or procedure being followed the Defense got their turn to stand to name their three male pretend client on his feet beside him, “Vernon Dorman, Your Honor, on behalf of Lewis Patzer.”

You asked when they sat down to the General’s own check mark on his procedure notes at your right, “Are all parties ready to continue?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” the four Lawyers stated and from your notes you eyed the charges to be read off for each.

“Lewis Patzer,” you said and the student for her and for Vernon Dorman stood for the read of charges, “You are charged with Robbery and Possession of Stolen Goods, how do you plead?”

To the charges Stark’s mouth quirked up into a grin just barely in shock for what sort of trial this was and he heard his lawyer state, “Not Guilty, Your Honor.”

You nodded and made your own note of that on your notepad and stated, “The Court is ready to hear recommendations on bail now.”

For that the DA Antonio Speltzer stood and with notes in hand stated, “Your Honor the State recommends bail be withheld on each of the Defendants. Mr Peltzer is in possession of ample funds from this crime and is able to fund an escape out of the country.”

Lawyer for Mr Peltzer, Vernon Dorman stood and said, “Your Honor, my client is innocent in all of this. And was merely arrested on counts of bias on behalf of the Lead Investigator. He has no criminal history. Your Honor my client is willing to surrender his passport to remain at home through this baseless trial.”

The curious author who watched his trial come to life and wet his lips as you said, “Agreed, bail is set at $. Officer Browen please escort Mr Peltzer out to see to that.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” he said accepting the signed bail sheet you handed over to him while the Defendant and his attorney thanked you to the scoffs of the DA in mock irritation to his being freed.

Smirks spread through the audience as the trio stood and were escorted out to the nearest room in the hall outside while notes were taken of this part of the trial being covered and both sides of Council readied as one by one from the final group of 24 students the Jury questioning was carried out. Just a couple questions were asked to speed up the process out of the pre-selected groups from each side with some removed and traded for more acceptable options.

Jury – 12 people

7 male/ 5 female

3 Late 30’s and up / 9 Low 30’s -18

8 rich/ 4 blue collar

To the assignment of those Jurors those students were relieved to fill up the only Juror Pool of these final set of trials and were excused from the courtroom to be given proper instruction while you closed the case for the day and stated the date that the case would be resumed. Pleased with the first step concluded the Council all filed out to take seats and allow the Council for the second case to file in for their own turn.

Schmidt vs Schmidt

“Are both parties present and ready?”

Both on their feet the Husband’s Lawyer Samuel Felton and the Wife’s Lawyer Lee Hogue spoke together, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Samuel Felton here today for Emil Schmidt.” And the other Lawyer spoke, “Lee Hogue on behalf of Sylvia Schmidt.”

You nodded and asked, “Have you two at least come to the agreement on who opens the case?”

Lee Hogue smirked and said, “We have, Your Honor.” While the other students sat he continued to share the background of the relationship of the duo. “Almost out of a storybook these two met, Mr Schmidt from white collar roots while my client came from a daughter of a painter and a concert pianist who over the dividing lines of an artistic family and one of a more pragmatic family bent on successful business ledgers began to date in High School. And over the years Mrs Schmidt has faithfully stood beside Mr Schmidt through numerous infidelities and social set backs while he found his footing in the Advertising world. A trial separation by my client was approached nearly a decade ago until it was confirmed she was pregnant with their child, Daniel, who is nine now. We are here today because Mr Schmidt again is in another relationship outside of the marriage and wishes to marry his mistress whom he met at his place of employment.”

“Very well,” General Eisenhower stated in the sip of water you took from the glass at your seat to wash down the scratch you felt at the back of your throat to a speck of dust in the air that wafted down from the fans above now in use after months of sitting stationary.

To the lower of the glass mention of the offered prenuptial agreement was detailed and then the points of deal breakers ended the day on a term of complete shambles to negotiations and work ahead to add in new assets gained since the date of the wedding. And the hushed murmurs and stolen glances were silenced with a welcomed gavel slam to free you all into cooler halls with notice of Friday as the next day to meet up.

Divorce outside of your case found itself in the headlines and above the picture of the moment where you and James stole a kiss after the trial. Your hand on his belly and his on yours in the toe top pose had speculation that a divorce and custody battle was underway with a wait until the baby was born for him to drop the bomb on you. Giggles and chuckled comments was the response when the headline was brought up with your grin being split wider to the jokes your favored Professors had come up with for this new development on yet another story in poor taste.

All false but it sold papers and for the addition to the piles of headlines like tear away calendars that got you closer to another week closer to Canada. Closer to the film that Norma was so eager to get started on that you had written and the home repairs that could keep the guys from hovering around you like concerned chickens ready to cuddle with the incoming babies. Dawn as well looked forward to be back near to her family who was aching to see how big Teddy and Marigold had grown and shower their grandbabies with as much love as possible to help grant ample time for you to relax and focus on your nesting phase.

Small steps would get you home again and your lives ready for this next step. Small steps like the next day where you completed another yearbook event you photographed while Portia took notes on the event for the paper. And while Victor printed the photographs for you up in the new Nursery where James found and smiled joining you in arranging small things around the trio of cribs the Brocks had lovingly made quilts and cushioned covers for the inside of them. Careful tucks and adjustments of items around the built in units the guys made for you while you were at school covering a full wall to the changing table opposite the mural coated wall the supply of diaper cloths with snaps to avoid delirious accidental stabs on pins was given their weekly refold.

Up around your back James molded and covered your belly with his hands to a press of his lips on your temple and murmured lovingly, “We’ll be ready for the girls.”

“We need gates for the steps,” that had him smirk and he hummed approvingly as you said, “Teddy nearly flipped over the pop up ones last month. Frightened Dawn half to death and Goldie and Petal will be up and around soon.”

“Okay, let’s sketch some stair gates. Me and Vic will make them while you’re at school and Dawn takes the munchkins to Mamma Brock’s.”

You nodded and to the sitting area in your room he helped you to come up with a simple solid door on a hinge with horizontal planks anchored by two vertical boards on either side with a board diagonally cut between them. Like small barn doors they would be anchored on hinges that would lock in place on the opposite banister to keep the babies from being able to clamber down the stairs without an adult to guide them. Grey and white were the chosen colors and everyone loved the designs that after supper James and Victor got to measuring the staircases for each at the tops and bottoms while you and Dawn soaked your feet.

Pt 68

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @changlingkhat

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam, @swoopswishsward

#James Howlett x OC #Victor Creed x Norma Jeane #Eddie Brock x OC #Venom #Howard Stark #Edwin Jarvis #Mock Trials Begin #Baby Gates #Nesting Worries #maternity class

12 notes · View notes

gustafsnightangel · 4 years

Text

Shattered Lives Ch 34

Moving day. That was the first thought to hit his mind as he woke up, Lily’s happy chattering coming through the monitor calling for her dad dad. He looked at the sleeping woman sprawled across him and smiled before kissing her head, she was still out cold. Leaving her to sleep he slipped from the bed, pulled on a pair of sweats and padded down the hall to Lily’s room. “There’s my little lady.” He murmured and Lily squealed, her face lighting up as he came into the room. “Big day today Lily.” He said softly as he changed and dressed her for the day, she was such a happy baby, her smile and giggle always bringing her sunshine into his life. “You’re my sunshine aren’t you.” He grinned at her as those big eyes focused on him, her tiny arms wrapped around his neck as he hauled her into his arms. “Shall we go get the boys up?”

“In.” She chirped, clapping her hands.

“Yes.” He laughed. “Even Finn.” He snuggled her in, her fingers gently playing with his scruff, before tugging on it hard.

Sildie rolled over, the bed empty, the sheets still warm. Groaning her displeasure of not having him there, she sprawled out over his side of the bed and breathed him in off the linen, a smile touching her lips as she heard him and Lily over the baby monitor. The soft dad dad chattering as he changed her, the giggles as he kissed her neck while he dressed her, the firm no as she gripped his longer scruff, obviously a little too tightly. That had become a favorite past time for her, gripping his scruff and pulling hard, dad dad made interesting noises when she did that. She lay there knowing she should get up, but was too relaxed. Moving day, it would be busy, yet she wanted to drift back to sleep, the contentment she felt here in their room pulling her back under. It was short lived as the door opened and Gustaf came though with a cup of tea. “Tea in bed?” She mumbled.

“Tea in bed.” He smiled as he sat it on the nightstand and bent to kiss her. Throwing her arms around his neck she pulled him down into her in a fit of giggles. “You need to get up love.” He chuckled.

“I know.” She said kissing him sinfully.

“I love it when you kiss me like that.” He murmured.

“Were moving in together today.” She smiled, she was much happier this morning. She’d made it past Christmas and meeting his family and felt settled, even more now they were moving in together, becoming a family. This was a big move for all of them and she wondered if there would be any fallout with the boys over it, anxiety over such a big change.

“We are. Sit up and drink your tea, then come have breakfast, I think Brendan’s making pancakes.” He kissed her, that slow delicious torment. “Bill and Valter will be here around nine.”

“What time is it?” She asked nipping his jaw playfully.

“Just after seven. I think Valter wants a rematch.” He grinned and Sildie’s laugh warmed him. “I tried to warn the guy.” He loved seeing that smile, hearing that laugh.

“Maybe we can do food and games tonight, let the boys settle in a bit.” She said softly, this was going to take some getting use to that this was their house not just Gustaf’s apartment.

“Sounds good. Now, drink your tea, I need to go supervise.” He kissed her and left her to wake up fully.

Out in the kitchen Brendan was in master chef heaven as he flipped the next pancake. The twins were sitting up at the counter and Lily was getting into all sorts of mischief at his bookshelf, the place was too new for her to be focused on toys. He would have to baby proof a little more once they were moved in, he thought, as Lily pulled more books from the bottom shelf.

“You little lady, are a terror.” She squealed at him and gave him an excited dad dad as he picked her up. “Not even moved in and you’re already rearranging my stuff.” He growled playfully and kissed her neck until she giggled before putting her down again letting her wander. Watching her explore he made a mental note of what they’d need to baby proof. Also the furniture they needed to swap out from Sildie’s, the dining table being one. Not only did they need a bigger table, it was from Dana’s side of the family. He’d also feasted and fucked her on that table and liked having the memory of that night staring him in the face every morning. They were about to start their life together, as a family, and he wanted as much of her life in his as possible, furniture, stuff, emotional baggage and all. It was terrifying, yet oddly satisfying.

“Are we moving in today?” Liam asked as Brendan put pancakes in front of the twins and Gustaf picked up Lily to stop her from getting into his jazz record collection after a stern no.

“We are. Uncle Valter and Uncle Bill are going to come over and help, and then we can have some game time tonight.” He said taking a pancake and holding it for Lily to eat, they’d remembered the high chair but he just wanted Lily close, the tiny girl grounded him.

“Can we have pizza?” Finn asked as he ate.

“We’ll see, depends on how many vegetable you had yesterday.” He said with a deadpan expression.

“Aww maaaan.” Finn sulked and Gustaf chuckled.

Gustaf was about to head back into the bedroom to see if Sildie had fallen asleep when she came out showered and dressed. The boys greeted her and Brendan was all smiles telling her how much he loved Gustaf’s kitchen. He watched her snag a pancake and stand around chatting with the twins while he and Lily stood by the window.

“Our family Lily bear.” He murmured as she fed him a crumb of pancake she was shredding between her fingers.

“You making sure dad dad eats huh?” Sildie said as she stopped in front of Gustaf giving him a blazing lip lock, slow and seductive.

“You keep kissing me like that and I’m going to give the kids an education.” He growled as he nipped her bottom lip.

“I’m happy.” Her smile told him as much.

“I can see.” He chuckled, those ice blue eyes sparkling. The weight had been lifted, Christmas was done and she’d met his family, survived the grief and seemed to have turned a corner. “I love you.” He murmured and kissed her so her toes curled and that soft little whimper fell from her lips.

“I love you too.” She was humming with energy. “Go shower, I’ll take this monster.” She kissed him and took Lily. “You little miss are a disaster.” She said and Lily grinned at her with a mouthful of pancake. “Charming.” She chuckled and headed to the bathroom so she could clean her up.

With children fed and dressed they headed next door, the morning going by in a blur once Valter and Bill showed up. Valter, with a twin in either hand went to help them pack up their room and bring it down the hall to their new home, smiles and laughter filled the space. It gave the twins time to bond with Gustaf’s youngest brother, and for Valter to try and figure out how Finn was so good at Mario cart. Bill helped Brendan pack up his room and she couldn’t help but smile at their conversation.

“You made the Kladdkaka?” Bill said stunned almost stupid. “Get the fuck outta here, really?”

“Yeah, really.” Brendan’s smile was huge.

“Damn, kid, you got some mad tasty making skills. Dad couldn’t stop raving about it and I know Eija hid one all for herself.” Bill told the teen as he placed more books in a box, the kid had enough to open library.

Leaving them to their packing Sildie took a few boxes of personal items over placing them in the bottom of her closet, she’d get to those later. They were memories she wanted to keep but too painful to have out. One day she’d sit on the floor with a bottle of wine and sort through it all. Memories of her brother, her parents, of her family that had left her. She shut all the emotions down that went with it, not now. She collected Lily from Gustaf, the little lady overwhelmed with so much activity around her she was clinging to mum mum or dad dad like her life depended on it.

“Hang over here with her for a bit. We’ll get the rest, there’s not much more anyway.” He said gently, he could see she was a little stressed, emotions sitting just below the surface.

“Are you bringing the table over?” She asked as her hand rested on his chest.

“Yeah we’ll get that here in a little while. Any other furniture?”

“Just the display case but I have to take everything out and I’d rather do that tomorrow when we know where it’s going to live. I was thinking my office so it’s out the way.” She said not really wanting to deal with all that glass and crystal at the moment.

“Where would you like it to go?” He asked snaking an arm around her and kissing her forehead, he sensed her unease.

“I don’t know.” Her exhale was tense. “It’s all full of family crystal and glass and I don’t want it in your apartment cluttering up your space.” She said quickly, without thinking.

“Look at me.” He gently hooked a finger under her chin and waited until her eyes met his. “It’s our space, our home, you can put it wherever the hell you want, love. It’s important to you.” He kissed her, that slow tenderness that filled her with love. “And if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me. This is our home now, you and me. There’s no more Gustaf’s apartment, it’s ours.” She nodded, resting her forehead against his and just settled herself. “Be with Lily, maybe curl up and have a nap. We can do more tomorrow, there’s no rush and it’s only next door.” He toyed with a stray wave that had come loose from her clip.

“I might just lay with Lily for a bit, see if she’ll go down for a nap.” She kissed him. “I love you sweet man.”

“Love you too.” He kissed her and watched her walk to Lily’s room and close the door. She would be ok, he thought, just overwhelmed. He was expecting tears later tonight and hoped the grief wouldn’t consume her, she’d got past Christmas and he was determined to have today go smoothly and as drama free as moving can be.

Gustaf was just stepping out of his apartment to check on the boys when he spotted Lucas walking to Sildie’s door, bouquet of flowers in hand. Fuck me, he fumed, does the guy ever fucking quit? So much for drama free. He wanted to storm over and throw a fist in his face for being here and for the pain he’d caused Sildie, but the defeated look that hunched his shoulders held him in check. “Lucas?” He said as he closed the door to his apartment for the moment until he knew exactly what was going on. He would shield Sildie from this if necessary.

“Gustaf, hey.” Lucas turned facing him, his hand raking through his hair, the guy looked emotionally beat to hell. “Sildie not home?”

“She’s home.” He said and hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “We’re in the process of moving everything in.” Gustaf kept a lid on his anger, something wasn’t quite right here, he could feel it.

“Ah, gotcha.” Lucas was nervous, how did he apologize? How did he make everything right between the three of them? He’d fucked up royally and may have lost a good friend because of it. Suck it up and just fucking say it, he scolded himself. “Look, I owe you an apology for the other night.” He said quietly and looked Gustaf dead in the eye.

Gustaf stayed silent, giving the man in front of him time to say what he had come here to say. Had it just been Lucas, he would have decked him for showing up after the shit storm Saturday night, but with Ana in the mix, things weren’t what they seemed on the outside.

“I was an idiot. I was also disrespectful and rude.”

At least he was honest, Gustaf thought.

“Sildie was right, I’d let Ana hoodwink me into thinking you were something that you’re not. It’s no excuse and I should have seen it for what it was, seen Ana for what she is and not allow myself to get caught up in her lies.”

Gustaf let the breath slowly shudder out of him, relieved the guy had seen the light. “She’s nasty business is what she is.” He murmured. “And seeing that while in a relationship with her isn’t as easy as it sounds.”

“No, no it’s not...” Lucas sighed. “...and she’s not someone I intend on seeing ever again. She used me, stole from me, hurt me, hurt those that I care about.” Lucas took a breath.

Lucas saw Gustaf’s eyes flick to the flowers and then back to his.

“Peace offering for Sildie, an apology.” He said quickly. “Ana had painted an ugly picture of you, using the ’my friend dated him’ story. I don’t know why I believed her over trusting Sildie’s judgement. I said some things I’m not proud of, she deserved better from me. I don’t even know what’s true and what isn’t anymore.”

“You’re damn right she deserved better. She doesn’t need any more grief than she’s already been handed.” Gustaf said and let the fury ride the edge of his voice. He waited a beat to let that sink in. “However, it’s difficult to see a full picture when you only have half the story, or told half the story, and more difficult when that half of the story is full of lies with the intent to be misleading.” Gustaf murmured.

“You should be a lawyer.” Lucas said with a wry smile.

“So I’ve been told.” Gustaf smirked.

“One thing I know for certain is Sildie’s happy with you. You only have to watch the two of you together to see it. She made her choice and I have to respect that. You were right, she deserves to have her choices respected and I didn’t. I crossed a line on Saturday, several actually, but none more so than your sobriety. It’s none of my business and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. There’s a lot I can’t take back and apologizing doesn’t seem enough.”

“It’s enough.” Gustaf said simply. He wasn’t about to drag this out just to be an asshole, he could, but the guy was clearly hurting. He’d just endured and survived Ana, and he needed to know there was some restitution that wasn’t going to cost him another piece of his soul.

“Thank you.” Lucas breathed out a relieved sigh. “And thanks for not punching my lights out even though I deserved it.” He said seriously.

“I made a promise to Sildie I’d keep my hands to myself.” Gustaf said.

“I’ll be sure to thank her for that too. Any chance I could talk to her?” Lucas asked, chewing his lip nervously. “I need to give her this.” He held up her award. “She left it on the table.”

“She doesn’t want it.” Gustaf shook his head not wanting to have that fucking thing shoved in her face today.

“I know.” Lucas sighed. “Something else I have to apologize to her for.” He said quietly as he looked at it and Gustaf looked at him puzzled. “Long story.”

“Wait out here, I’ll go see if she wants to see you. It’s been an emotional few days, I won’t push her.” Gustaf’s tone was friendly, but with an air of don’t fuck with me on this.

“Fair enough.” Lucas said as Gustaf walked away. “I wouldn’t blame her if she never wants to see me again.” He mumbled to himself. Gustaf left Lucas near the elevator and headed inside his apartment. Oh fucking fuck, he thought as he walked through the door. This had the potential to blow up in his face and for Sildie to lose her shit, or fall apart, neither of which he wanted to have happen, especially today.

“There you are.” Sildie beamed as he shut the door, Lily apparently not happy about their idea of a nap, hot on Sildies heels. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.”

“I’m here.” He kissed her tenderly.

“What’s wrong?” She said looking at him, picking up on his hesitation at telling her who was outside their home.

“Lucas is outside, he’d like a word.” His tone gentle. “He came to apologize to me and would like to speak with you.”

“He apologized to you?” Her shock was genuine, she hadn’t expected it, at least not yet with Ana fucking with his head.

“He did.” He kissed her sweetly. “The guys a wreck Sildie, hear him out.”

She looked at him as Lily started to fuss and wanted to be picked up. “I’m not sure I want to talk to him. I’m still pretty pissed at him actually.”

“Then let him see it. He needs to know he fucked up and you’re not ok with it.” He kissed her temple tenderly. “But he also needs to be able to apologize. She fucked him up love, remember that before you rip him to shreds.”

“Yeah you’re right.” She sighed, her shoulders slumped. Could they just get through today without shit hitting the fan? “Can you put him in my office while I try and get Lily down again? I have a few things to say to him too.” She picked Lily up and the kid snuggled to her.

“Sure.” He kissed her tenderly. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I will be, and you’re right, we need to clear the air.” She kissed Lily’s head as the little girl sobbed quietly. “And this one is all out of sorts, she doesn’t know what or who she wants.” She kissed him softly.

“Big changes today.” He wrapped her in a hug. “My two best girls. She’ll settle tonight once everyone’s here and we get back to normal.” He kissed them both and watched them walk down the hall to Lily’s room.

He waited until Sildie and Lily were tucked away before collecting Lucas and putting him in Sildie’s office. As he came out he took Lily from Sildie as she walked past, the little lady not happy about her nap at all, and kissed her sweetly. “No redecorating.” He murmured and her chuckle made him breathe easier.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself.” She promised.

“Make sure he does too.” His tone was serious. Even though the guy had apologized and said he was moving on didn’t mean shit when his heart still wanted Sildie. He sent Lucas a glare over the top of her head, touch her and you’re dead.

Lucas could clearly see the message in his glare, don’t touch my woman, don’t fuck with my woman, it was not unexpected. Gustaf looked down at Sildie once Lucas gave him the slight nod that the message had been received, loud and clear. He realized he’d judged Gustaf unfairly. He was a gentle soul, a far cry from what Ana had painted him to be. He watched him with Lily, the boys smiling as they ran past. Seeing Sildie and Gustaf together broke him, the love she had for him. His shoulders slumped as he watched the photos on the digital frame. She was happy, the kids were happy, she’d never be his now and he had to move past it. He had to find a way to get over her.

He’d fucked up and he was expecting Sildie’s wrath. The woman was formidable and he’d only seen her lose it with Quinn once, he braced himself for what was to come. She had a temper and he’d done everything perfectly to be on the receiving end of it. What’s worse is he knew she’d fight for Gustaf too, because that’s the sort of person she is.

Bill and Valter were in and out of the apartment with boxes from storage for the kids as Sildie closed her office door. Lucas stood staring at the digital frame, the photos cycling through the trip to the snow. “Hello Lucas.” She said bluntly, she could see the guy was hurting by the slump in his shoulders, the tiredness in his smile. She’d seen enough of that in Gustaf at Ana’s whim. Didn’t mean she wasn’t angry at him. She’d let him say his piece and depending on what that was entirely depended on whether she lost her shit at him.

“Hi. He looks like a younger version of Quinn.” He said pointing to Brendan in the photo.

“Yeah. It’s like looking at a ghost from the past.” She said softly.

“Lily looks so much like Dana.” He said wistfully, staring at the photo before it changed and he focused on Sildie.

“I came by to give you this, you left it behind.” He said handing her that damn award she didn’t fucking want.

“Thanks.” She sighed. “I don’t know why they gave me the bloody thing. Seems kind of stupid to award me the award that I helped set up.” She sat it on her desk, at least it was pretty. Hand blown glass of different shades of blue, maybe she could hide it at work somewhere on a bookshelf.

“It didn’t go to you, not at first.” Lucas said looking at the law books in the shelves. He smiled remembering Quinn and Sildie huddled around a table studying from the same books at college.

“What do you mean?” She frowned, puzzled at his remark.

“It was originally given to me.” He said and turned to look at her. How could he not fall for her, those eyes he’d always drowned in.

“Ok, I’m confused.” She said and leaned a hip on her desk crossing her arms. She’d have to look at getting a chair for this room for visitors.

“The Bar Association told me I was receiving it so I’d be at the dinner. I declined the award stating it should go to you.” He said quietly, her eyes landing on his, all he saw was pain.

“Why Lucas? Why would you do that? You’ve worked hard and should be recognized.” She said abashed. “And why the fuck would you do that to me, shove all that grief in my face, in front of everyone?”

“Because I’m obviously a self centered asshole.” He breathed out honestly. “I didn’t think Sildie.”

“No, no you didn’t fucking think.” She growled.

“I’m not half the lawyer you are Sildie and if I didn’t decline it, you’d never be recognized for the incredible work you’ve done.” He continued, his voice defeated. “They would never have awarded it to you because you helped create it, even though you are everything that award encompasses.”

“Shit Lucas.” She sighed.

“I’ve watched you get overlooked so many times. Always paying second fiddle to Quinn. I loved the guy like a brother, but his arrogance and ego cost you opportunities to excel and to be seen in this country for what you’re worth, his shadow was large and far reaching. Don’t get me wrong.” He said seeing the touch of anger on her face at his words and held up his hand to stop her interruption. “Quinn was everything you and Oliver laid out in your speeches, but you are so much more, you always have been. The Association fought me on it, they didn’t want to give it to you, but I pushed them because you...” He choked up. “Because it was the one way, the one thing I could do to show the world, to show Quinn, that you are as good as, if not better than your brother ever was. It was my idiotic way of trying to let you fucking shine for once, to be recognized for not only the incredible person you are but the attorney you’ve become.” He looked at her and let the breath go. And because I love you, he added silently. “I’m sorry Sildie, I fucked up. I realize now that it hurt you, I hadn’t thought it though enough to see it.”

“It did.” She said softly. It had hurt so deeply, but she’d never let anyone see it but Gustaf. Lucas didn’t get to see that side of her, he hadn’t earned her trust. “Not many know this but I left for those exact reasons. Quinn was a damn good lawyer and he overshadowed everyone Lucas not just me. It was easier for me to leave than cut him down.” She looked at him. “Thank you for the nod, and although it’s appreciated, it wasn’t necessary.”

“Well again, I’m sorry that it hurt you. That was never my intention. I didn’t want to hurt you Sil but I have and I feel like dirt.” His heart was bleeding, he wanted to beg her to be with him but knew it wasn’t what he’d come here to do. No, he’d come here to let her go, to let himself grieve for her, and the life they would never have.

She let him have the silence sensing he had more to say.

“These are also for you.” He said, once he had his emotions under control and handed her the flowers. “A piss poor attempt at apologizing for everything. I stepped over several lines the other night and I need to make it right with you.” He held up his hand to stop her from speaking before jamming both in his pockets. He couldn’t touch her, wanted to, but she wasn’t his to touch, she wasn’t his to love. “Please, hear me out I need to get all this out before I fucking lose it.” His huffed chuckle was stiff as he leaned against the wall and fought the emotions that wanted to erupt from him. “I love you, Sildie, I’ve been in love with you since college and I don’t think that’s ever going to change. But, I crossed a line in your office a few months ago and the other night out of jealousy. Not my finest moments and I’m not proud of what I said or how I made you and Gustaf feel.” He breathed and thought about his next words carefully. “I figured if I could show you what he was... if you knew.” He left it hanging not able to find the right words. “I was so fucking stupid.”

“Lucas he told me the first real date we had. For the record he’s been clean for seven years, sober for five. Do you honestly think I’d let him anywhere near the kids if he was high, or drunk?” She spat, her anger getting the better of her briefly.

Lucas shook his head. “I was too far up my own ass to see it. All I saw was someone with a checkered past being with you the way I’d always wanted, while being fed lies about a man I wanted to watch you kick to the curb. It made me fucking crazy.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“I’m in love with him Lucas.” She said gently, the guy was reeling enough from Saturday to not have her kick him in the guts about it all over again, but she had to make sure he heard her. “I meant what I said the other night, I don’t love you, not like that. You’re my brothers friend and a colleague that I respect. That’s all we’re ever going to be.” She said it calmly and kindly. “You need to get past that.”

“I know, I get it.” He smiled. “I don’t like it, but I get it. I’d like us to be work friends, be able to talk after a case. I miss that.” His smile was one of acceptance. He knew she was never going to be his, friends would be better than cutting her out of his life altogether. Though he was going to have to stay away from her for a while until the sting of seeing her and Gustaf together faded.

“I’ve missed it too. You’re a good adversary Lucas, but an even better sounding board.” Her tone remained gentle as she reigned in her fury, that wouldn’t solve anything now.

“I hope he knows how lucky he is.” Lucas said looking at her from under his lashes, his head still bowed.

“He does. He also knows what he has to lose.” She told him.

“Somehow I don’t think he’s going to let you get away.” He smiled and took a deep steadying breath. “Can I tell you what happened after the party? I’d like you to know but only if...”

“Sure.” He was wiping the slate clean, or trying to at least, she had to give him the opportunity to be heard. She didn’t really want to hear it but for the sake of the man in front of her he looked as though he needed a friend to talk to.

“Before I met Ana I was only aware of Gustaf’s addiction and drinking from what I heard in the tabloids like everyone else. She, as you are no doubt aware, spun a completely different story. You were right, I should have seen it for the bullshit it was, I should have kept my nose out of your business. Hindsight is a wonderful thing and she is very convincing. She played me, especially with my love for you, played me like a fucking fool. For all of that I’m sorry, I’ve apologized to Gustaf as well, I fucked up and I feel like shit because of what I let happen.” He looked to the ceiling and wrestled with the tears, she could feel them wanting to burst from him. “To cut a long story short we had a rather heated argument once we got home Saturday. After what had transpired Ana and I split that night, but not before I found out she was high. Her sob story, all the lies and bullshit, nothing was adding up, more questions than answers, her stories becoming more elaborate to cover her own ass. She lied to me, cheated on me, almost drained my savings and it would have been water under the bridge until I found the stash of drugs in my apartment as she was packing them into her suitcase.”

“Shit Lucas.” Sildie’s gut plummeted. “What?”

“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.

“What are you going to do?” She asked tentatively, her voice catching. She had so many questions spring into her mind.

“Already done. As she was packing her bags calling me every name under the sun I called the police. She was charged Sunday with possession with the intent to distribute, and were not talking party drugs Sil, were talking heavy shit.” He looked at her, she saw it now, fear.

“She used your money to buy it?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Looks that way.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. The guy looked as if he’d aged overnight.

“You could be disbarred for this?” Her gut sank further, this could ruin him, his life, his career, everything.

“I know.” He said softly. Sildie was stunned.

“Do you have a lawyer?” She asked gently, not wanting to pry but also wanting to make sure he was protected as much as she could.

“Lindstrom.” He said simply. “They haven’t charged me with anything... yet.”

“Good choice.”

“He has my statement and all documentation. I can’t tell you anymore than that. This is probably going to drag you into court Sildie, especially after the conversation Saturday, and maybe Gustaf.”

“Shit.” She breathed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what her end game is, it’s a fucking mess.” He sighed. “I don’t know if she went through me to get to you because of Gustaf or what, but she’s fucking crazy and I don’t know what she’ll decide to do.”

“It’s ok. It’ll be fine, and it’ll give me a chance to serve up some karma.” She spat. “I’ll talk to Gustaf, he has his own team of lawyers if it amounts to anything.”

His chuckle at her tone made him smile, the first one she’d seen since he’d been in her office. “You always were a spitfire.”

“Still am.” She snorted.

“Fuck Sildie, I’m so sorry. I never meant this to drag you through the shit too, but it might.” His sigh was a mixture of defeat and relief, his body and mind done what it had to do and now needed rest.

“We’ll deal with that if and when it gets to it.”

“She’s going to drag everyone into her shit storm.” He mumbled. “I wish I’d never met her.”

“She can try. Lies aren’t going to get her far, not with Lindstrom in your corner. I’ve gone up against him, he’s hard core and ice cold.” She said strongly, she hated seeing him so beaten up. “Lindstrom will see you taken care of. Has she lawyered up yet?”

“I don’t know if she’s lawyered, but I’ll do everything I can to keep you and Gustaf out of it.” And he would, he’d take the hit to keep her out of this crap.

“I appreciate it, but understand if you can’t we’ll just have to ride it out.”

There was a polite knock on the door before Gustaf opened it, Lily wailing for her mum mum. “Sorry to interrupt, but this little lady wants you.” He said chuckling.

“It would seem so.” Sildie said with a smile as Lily reached out for her and curled in close once she’d made contact, the soft hiccuped sobs of a child well past the point of no return.

“I need to get going anyway and let you guys finish moving in.” Lucas said knowing he couldn’t hang around and see them together and remain sane, not yet. He needed time and he had bigger problems. “I’ve chewed up enough of your time. Thanks for the ear.”

“Anytime.” Sildie said as she walked him to the elevator.

“Thanks. And thanks for not decking me the other night, even though I deserved it.” He pushed the button for the elevator.

“Had it not been Ana, had I not known the history between her and Gustaf, I might have.” She smirked. “Don’t come at him again Lucas.” Her warning needed no elaboration and he nodded.

“Understood.”

“Question, is she still in custody or out on bail?” Sildie asked as the elevator doors opened.

“Out on bail I think, I can check.”

“Do me a favor and keep me in the loop as much as you can. I want to know where she is at all times.” She chewed on her bottom lip thinking.

“You think she might make a run for the kids?” His heart lurched. Oh fuck, he thought, what have I done?

“I sort of pissed on her parade the other night. I wouldn’t put it past her to try. She’s not one to hold back on spiteful revenge on being stood up to, she didn’t like me calling her out on her bullshit.” Her shrug wasn’t convincing, she was worried too. “If she’s the narcissist I think she is she’ll know that getting to the kids will hurt me more than coming straight at me.”

“I’ll keep you updated.” He nodded. Hell he’d hire a fucking PI to follow the bitch.

“Brendan’s room Bill.” She said, as Bill walked past with a box and a questioning look. She said her goodbyes to Lucas and headed into her apartment as Valter helped Finn with some of his toys. They were nearly done as the rest of the furniture was staying.

“You ok?” Gustaf asked as she stood in her room that they’d cleaned out earlier and slipped his arm around her waist, his lips nipping her neck.

“Yes and no.” She said vaguely which told him her mind was elsewhere as she rocked Lily side to side, at least she’d stopped crying now.

“Good talk with Lucas?” He pushed.

She blew a breath out. “Yes and no.” She chuckled. “He apologized and gave me the damn award back.” She told him about why it was given to her and Gustaf shrugged. “It’s like a fucking boomerang.” She muttered.

“Can’t fault his logic. I never knew your brother but you’re a kick ass lawyer. I’ve seen you love, you’re everything that award stands for.” He kissed her temple and breathed her in, home. No matter where they were as long as she was with him he was home.

“You ready for the kicker?” She sighed, not really wanting to put Ana in his head again.

“Kicker?” She turned in his arms and kissed him tenderly before filling him in on Ana and Lucas.

“Well fuck me.” He groaned looking skyward.

“Yeah, kind of what I said. It’s bad, he could be disbarred for it.” Her fingers wandered under the hem of his shirt, the need to feel him, to ground herself.

“Shit, really?” His gut lurched. He didn’t like the guy, but he didn’t deserve to lose his career over it.

“Yeah. They haven’t charged him with anything yet and he’s lawyered up. Here’s hoping that’s enough.” She sighed.

“Is there anything we can do?” She was a little taken back by his question. “He’s an asshole Sildie not a murderer, he doesn’t deserve to lose his livelihood because of that woman.” His tone had an edge of ice to it.

“We may get dragged into it.” She said gently, his eyes widening slightly at the possibility.

“Fuuuuuck. Ok.” He breathed out. “I need to call a few people.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I’m sorry love.”

“No.” He growled. “No. You don’t get to apologize for her.” He hugged her tightly, the kiss at her temple lingering as he breathed her in and calmed. He would talk to his lawyers and see what he could do to protect them and then see if he could help Lucas out. He didn’t want to see the guy swing for it. “You don’t apologize for her, ever.” He murmured and held his two best girls close.

By six they were exhausted, drained from the packing and unpacking and merging two households together. There was more to move across but the kids were successfully moved in and unpacked, which was the main objective of the day. With the kids on the couch starting a Mario cart game, Valter and Bill moved the dining table into Gustaf’s apartment and moved his smaller one into Sildie’s. Gustaf snuggled Lily in as he ordered pizza, both he and Sildie didn’t care what the kids ate tonight as long as it was food. “That’s a solid table.” Bill chuckled as Sildie came into the dining room and helped with the chairs.

“It is, Dana’s grandfather made it for her grandmother as a wedding gift.” She’d heard the stories from Dana, the love for the table when she was growing up, it was excellent for hiding under. “And I think there’s a story for every nick and scratch on it.” She chuckled.

“Is that it for today?” Bill asked.

“Yes, thanks so much. You guys made the day much easier.” She said walking back to the kitchen to find Gustaf putting the kettle on.

“Pizza is on its way.” He said to the adults.

“Awesome, now excuse me while I go kick this kids ass.” Valter grinned. “I’ve been waiting patiently all day.”

“Ha! Good luck with that.” Gustaf laughed as he prepared to take on Finn yet again.

“She’s so tired.” Sildie said, gently stroking her knuckles down Lily’s cheek, the little girl sobbing quietly. She’d been beyond it for half the day and had refused to nap in case she missed anything.

“She’s had a busy day exploring.” He kissed her brow and lingered before kissing it again. “Our home.”

“I know.” She smiled up at him. “Feels so different, good different.” It would take some time to process it all, for their mental and emotional state to catch up with reality of living together, even though they were practically doing that in her apartment minus the stuff.

Bill answered the door to collect the pizza and the Mario cart war was placed on hold while they ate. Finn and Liam had taken a shine to Valter, almost like an older, bigger brother. Finn happily sitting in Valters lap while he drove Mario cart rings around him. She smiled as her phone pinged, the incoming text making that smile drop from her face. Four words that made her gut churn.

She’s out on bail. Karlsson representing. When I know more I’ll call.

Sildie showed Gustaf the screen and his face revealed nothing. She was good at reading him, but he had a poker face when it came to Ana. He snaked an arm around her hips and pulled her close.

“Good to know, but we’ll be fine.” He kissed her on that one spot below her ear and she relaxed into him.

He was right, the cameras and door feed he had installed Christmas Eve on his hunch gave them an unobstructed view of the hall, elevator, and stairs. If she got in the building they would see her before she got to the door. Gustaf also had a panic button installed on the touchscreen to alert security in the building which was attached to an app for her phone. “I’ll keep us safe love.” He said softly. “At whatever cost.” He was not going to let that bitch destroy this, this home he’d made for them, for the kids to feel normal, for them to move past all the grief in their lives. No, he thought, she doesn’t get to set foot in here and touch this, to fuck with this.

“I asked Lucas to keep me in the loop.” She murmured and kissed him, that sweetness relaxing the tension in his shoulders.

“As he should. I don’t think she’ll do anything, but it doesn’t hurt to know what’s going on.” She was worried he could see it in her eyes as she tried to soothe him. “Who’s Karlsson?”

“Her lawyer. He’s good, not as good as Lindstrom.” She said quietly. “It just depends on how much bullshit she spins, but he’s no idiot. If she lies to him she ties his hands and he can’t help her. It’s going to be very interesting because all her lies, her entire facade is about to fall down around her.” She shrugged. “Karma’s a bitch when you screw with her.”

“Can’t say I’m shedding any tears for her over here.” He chuckled.

“Me either. She deserves whatever’s coming to her.” I just hope we can stay the hell out of it, she added silently.

After dinner and ice cream he put Lily to bed and watched her a moment. “You are my sunshine Lily bear.” He whispered, sitting on the floor she held his finger, her eyes dropping and eventually closing. “Sleep little lady, I’ll be here tomorrow when you wake up.”

He closed the door quietly before heading back to the living area and grabbed the monitor from the kitchen counter. Sildie had just made tea and set it on the coffee table and he waited for her to pour before pulling her into the one seat with him. They sat watching the game, the kids, and a pair of brothers smile and laugh, until those laughs turned into yawns. Bill used the same line as Sildie when the twins started to whine about having to go to bed a few hours later. “I want to come play another day guys but I can’t do that if you make a fuss. Mum said bed. Hop too.” He said quietly.

“Can you come over tomorrow?” Liam asked.

“Not tomorrow buddy. I have a few things I have to do at my own home, but soon ok? After new year.”

“Ok.” Liam’s tone was disappointment.

“Sorry Sildie.” He chuckled as Liam sulked off to bed.

She laughed. “It’s fine, they’ll get used to it. Besides, Liam’s the button pusher. He will push the limits to the furthest degree possible.”Sildie and Gustaf walked his brothers to the door, a promise of a get together after New Years for more games and pizza. With the door shut and the kids getting ready for bed the apartment was quiet for perhaps the first time since early this morning. Gustaf read to the twins while Brendan read his book curled up him his new room, normal, routine.

“You ok?” Sildie asked as she stood at the door looking at all the other stuff he’d put away in his room.

“Yeah, tired.” He yawned.

“You’re ok with living here?” She was hoping he was still ok with it as he’d not said anything against moving in with Gustaf.

“Yeah, it’s different but I like it. Bigger room and my stuff’s all here now.” He looked at her and then around her to make sure Gustaf wasn’t there and only continued when he heard him reading. “Did we upset Gustaf with the dad thing?” He asked nervously.

“No honey, he just needs time.” She sat on the bed with him and squeezed his foot. “He’s more worried that he’s going to overstep a line with you guys and the memory of you father, that’s all. And though your logic is sound, Quinn’s not here and Gustaf is, he needs time to feel like he can be that person for you, within himself. He knows he can be, he just has to believe in himself, that takes time. Make sense?”

Brendan nodded. “We wanted him to know but we didn’t want to upset him.”

“Give it some time, there’s no rush. Just let it happen. If the moment feels right for you to call him dad then do it, otherwise just call him Gustaf. It’s a learning curve for all four of you.” She said softly and Brendan nodded, he understood. “Don’t stay up too late ok? I’ll need you to help with some stuff tomorrow.”

“Sure. Love you mum.” He said grinning slyly.

“Oh I see, give Gustaf the ease in but not me.” She grinned as she walked to the door.

“You’ve always been mum, you just didn’t like it.” He smiled.

She didn’t have it in her to tell him she still hated it. She wasn’t mother material. “It’s grown on me.” She chuckled as she closed the door.

With the twins seen to Gustaf came out to the living room and closed the hall door as soft jazz wafted through the apartment. He saw Sildie sitting at the table staring out the window, lost in thought. His kiss to the nape of her neck snapped her out of it with a sharp inhale.

“Far away there love.” He chuckled.

“Sorry.” She snorted. “I was far far away.”

“You ok?” He massaged the rocks in her shoulders hoping her time off would ease that stress in her body now Christmas was done.

“I am, you?”

“A little tired but ok.” He kissed her head and sat next to her. “We got a fair bit done today.”

“It feels good, but so different.” She said, that smile lighting up her face.

“I love you.” His tone soft.

“Sweet man.” She climbed into his lap and straddled him. Her kiss was hot and hungry. “I’m so in love with you it’s ridiculous.” His laugh made all those crows feet dance at the corners of his eyes and she brushed her thumb along them before stifling a yawn.

“Let me take you to bed my love. You’re tired and need sleep.” He was happy beyond words, she was here with him, together.

“I’m not that tired.” She said mischievously and ghosted her lips with hers.

“Then I had better see to it that you’re sufficiently worn out.” He growled and her giggle made his cock twitch.

She climbed off his lap and cleared the pizza boxes and teapot while he locked the front door and engaged the electronic lock at the top. That was new, even if Ana managed to get a key, she still couldn’t get in once that was engaged, and the kids couldn’t reach it. Was it overkill, sure, was it being paranoid, perhaps, did he give a fuck, not one. He would keep Sildie and the kids protected, especially from toxic, fucked up people like Ana. He’d come too far to let her get her claws into him again, and he sure as hell wasn’t letting her anywhere near the kids.

She stripped and took a quick shower before crawling into bed, Gustaf doing much the same. It felt good to wash off the sweat and dust from cleaning out her apartment. His groan as he got horizontal made her chuckle. “I know right.”

“It’s been a long ass day.” He sighed and rolled over so he was pressed against her. “We’re in our room, with no baby in here with us. It feels weird.” He chuckled, his fingers teasing her hair, he loved the feel of it through his fingers.

“I know but I’m liking it.” She purred and kissed him until his brain melted, that soft groan doing things to her. “I’m liking it a lot.” Her hands cupped his face and held him to her as she kissed him, that sweetness flowing out of her. She was so damn happy. Things felt right with him, moving in together, the kids, everything.

She felt him harden against her thigh, the feel of that thick length arousing her system. “Touch me.” She breathed as those skilled hands did as she asked, with a tenderness that almost made her weep. His head dipped down to kiss her neck, her throat, as a hand palmed her breast. She wanted to feel him against her, his soothing weight, a toned body that danced with hers so beautifully.

He slipped his arm under her and cradled her head, mouth devouring hers, passion, heat, love, poring out of them both. “My Sildie.” He murmured as he hooked her leg over his hip and stroked his fingers down it, he couldn’t touch her enough. “My goddess.” He groaned as he slipped into her, silky walls enveloping him. “God you’re beautiful.” His tone deep as he took her slowly. Wrapping her legs around him she arched up to meet his thrusts taking him in to her core, fingers digging into his back keeping him close. He made love to her, strong, powerful, loving, the emotion welling up in both of them. She came, that soft cry as he tipped her over the edge into bliss, the way her pussy stroked him to release. She felt his cock pulse inside her as he came, the long, deep thrusts filling her until they were sated.

Relaxing on top of her he kissed her thoroughly, enjoying the feel of her under him, loose and soft. “What’s your plan for tomorrow?” He asked taking his time kissing and tasting her neck.

“The display case.” She said quietly, her fingers trailing his scruff, her eyes drinking in the sight of him.

“It makes you sad doesn’t it?” His kiss tender.

“Yeah, but I need to just get it done. Emotional can of worms, you know? There’s a lot of my parents in there as well as Quinn and Dana.” He kissed her, wanting nothing more than to take that grief from her.

“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow love, it can wait if you’re not up for it.”

“I want to get it done.” She breathed out, her voice on the edge of breaking.

“Fair enough. I’ll keep the kids busy, you get it done, do what you need to do.” His fingers trailed the line of her jaw. “I love you.” He said gently. “Get it done and you can fall apart after.”

“I love you too sweet man.” She pulled his face to hers and kissed him. “So much.”

“Don’t let tomorrow worry you now, ok?” He kissed her tenderly. “Time for sleep, for rest.”

“Taking care of me.” Her smirk playful.

“Always love.” His kiss was devastating, completely overwhelming her system.

“Illegal.” She breathed when he let her up for air.

“Still gonna go it.”

“Mmm good.” She felt him harden inside her, as she deepened the kiss to borderline smoldering, her hips rocking against him, the slow hit grind.

“God Sildie.” His growl making her giggle wickedly. “On your side.” He whispered, nipping her throat as he moved to roll her over. Getting to his knees he straddled her bottom leg and thrust slowly as he hooked her top leg around his hip. He caged her in pressing his body to hers as he thrust, mouth devouring her neck. “Fuck Sildie, you feel so good.” He choked as he buried himself deeply, her soft cry making him throb for her.

She gripped him behind the neck and turned her head to kiss him, slow strokes of his thick cock filling her. “Gustaf.”

“Come for me love. Let me watch you come.” He got to his knees and pushed her hips open, driving into her. She gripped his thigh and arched with the change of angle, his cock caressing every inch of her. He watched as she arched and cried out, her pussy pulsing around him. “So beautiful.” He growled, his pace quickening slightly before he erupted, coming hard. He collapsed on top of her and rolled so she was sprawled on top of him, panting as much as he was. She giggled as he peppered her forehead with kisses.

“Mmm you feel good.” She purred sleepily, her hands roaming, lean muscle, those dips and valleys of his body moulding with hers.

“So do you love.” He growled, those soft curves pressed against him, his hands fanning out over her back and the sweep of her ass. “Sleep now.”

“You wore me out.” She yawned.

“All part of my plan.” He chuckled.

“Were a family.” She mumbled into his chest.

“Yes we are.”

“I love you.” She breathed.

“I love you too, sleep now.” Kissing her temple he pulled the covers over them, quite content to be smothered in her scent, her body draped over him. He felt her melt into him as his arms wrapped around her, holding her close, safe, secure.

She’d moved in with him, all her things were here, the kids were here, their life was here, with him. He’d never felt so full of joy and fear at the same time, a fear that he’d somehow, one day, fuck this all up. He banished those thoughts, knowing it was Ana and all her manipulation, her vindictiveness that gave him those feelings. Chewing over her conversation with Lucas, his own thoughts drifted to worse case scenarios as exhaustion pulled him under.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden

#gustaf skarsgard #gustaf skarsgard fanfiction #shattered lives

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primergon · 4 years

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let me be the portable heater that you'll get cold without, Ratchet / fem!reader

Summary : It was winter, and even without the snow, Jasper has managed to make the nights colder than it should be. You cling onto your second cup of hot chocolate tonight, relinquishing in its warmth. In the midst of Smokescreen's cheering and Arcee's laughter, you shouldn't have noticed Ratchet staring at your arms shivering against the porcelain.

But you did.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning : No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Transformers - All Media Types , Transformers: Prime

Relationship: Ratchet (Transformers)/You

IT was Christmas eve. Mariah Carey and Michael Buble have been fighting over the radio station for nearly two hours now, droning out into a series of cheery jingles and tunes that could hardly be heard under all the noise.

Smokescreen was running from Ultra Magnus, who doesn't appreciate the mistletoe the young mech had set up for him. Albeit, when the time came, he had been in deep conversation with Optimus. The Autobot leader was diplomatic as always, urging his second in command to partake in Earth's festivities and out of respect,and had kissed him in the forehead.

You had never seen the stoic mech so speechless, it was only when he came to his sense did he march towards Smokescreen, who had nearly sent himself into stasis out of laughter.

His laughter faded in the distance, replaced by light bickering coming from Arcee and Jack, who couldn't seem to decide on the location of the ornaments. Miko and Bulkhead were both wrapping gifts, although it could hardly be called wrapping from the way they were just sticking tape everywhere.

You smiled at the warmth, telling Raf to be careful as Bumblebee lifted him to the top of the tree. The young boy struggled to put the star in place and you didn't miss the way Ratchet was staring too, eyes wary as his student wobbled above Bumblebee's palms.

" Yip yip yip !" He gruntled, getting up from his place before scooping Raf up for himself. " You must be more careful! You humans seem to forget just how fragile you are."

You let out a good-natured laugh, sipping your chocolate beverage. He gave you a side-glance, before focusing back on the child.

You have to admit, you wished you were on the receiving end of his nagging.

As annoying Ratchet's over-protective nature may seem, you find it lovable. His sarcastic quips and disgruntled complaints were just genuine concerns covertly hidden to avoid any suspicions that he's gone soft.

Therefore, every time he would scold you, you can't help but soak it in. It feels nice to see that he actually cares, in his own unorthodox way.

Ratchet gave you a questioning brow, reminding you that you've been staring.

Shit.

You averted your gaze, cursing to yourself. The last thing you want the medic to know is that you've been catching yourself caring for him - no, it was more than that. You were visibly attracted to the ‘silver fox’ aura he carries with him, his controlling nature just makes you wonder if he was the same day and night.

You nearly choke on the marshmallows, your face burning under the night's chill.

The sweater June had gotten you as a gift wasn't enough to keep the cold out of your skin, although you must admit, it is cute. You had a sinking feeling June had purposely purchased one that matches Ratchet's color scheme, after you let slip that you find his bad-tempered nature endearing - " didn't know you had a thing for grumpy men."

As you leaned against the railing, you fail to notice that Smokescreen was walking towards you. He tapped you lightly on the shoulder, a shrewd grin plastered across his face. He pointed you to look up and when you did, you felt a little dumbfounded, until you saw this little plant hanging between the two of you.

Oh.

You let out a chortle, hiding it behind your sleeves. The rookie was practically bouncing, if he had a tail, it would be wagging. He leaned politely, not enough to be invading your personal space but just enough to tell you what he wants.

You shook your head, Smokescreen had always been drawn to you. His free spirit, courage, and cheerful personality didn't go unnoticed. Yet, if anything you loved the mech like a friend. But, Smokescreen seemed to admire you, in a way you can only call puppy love.

Fitting, you smiled. It was Christmas, Ultra Magnus was slumping behind him in defeat ( a victim of Smokescreen's youthfulness ), the music was obnoxiously cheery and it was the most beautiful time of the year.

So you decided to indulge him, leaning to kiss the mech on the cheek. His door wings fluttered and you couldn't help back a guffaw, the whole team erupting into a chorus of teasing. You patted him on the head, turning back to the Christmas tree.

Ratchet paid the scene no mind, holding Raf as still as he could. The mech simply looked at you, rolling his eyes at your antics.

That tugged a string and your heart tightened, for a fraction of a second you had hoped he would notice. You wondered what he might think, but it seemed you had hoped too soon - Ratchet wouldn't concern himself on who you are, moreover on who you kiss.

Although it is true, that he seems to have enjoyed your company ( you knew when to talk and when to not ) and the way you never seem to get tired of explaining to him all about Earth's customs. ( He even seems to enjoy your little arguments, knowing that they never mean anything but good-natured teasing.)

The idea of him liking you was good as finally convincing Arcee to reverse her colors to pink.

You sighed into your empty cup, refilling it.

It was winter, and even without the snow, Jasper has managed to make the nights colder than it should be. You cling onto your second cup of hot chocolate tonight, relinquishing in its warmth. In the midst of Smokescreen's cheering and Arcee's laughter, you shouldn't have noticed Ratchet staring at your arms shivering against the porcelain.

But you did.

It was late. The radio was now playing in its lowest volume. Optimus, Smokescreen, and Ultra Magnus have gone to investigate a Decepticon signal while the others went to take the children home.

You decided to stay behind, volunteering to clean up the plastic cups and left-over food. Although Optimus had encouraged everyone to clean up after themselves, Christmas is never really Christmas without a little bit of mess.

You were more than happy to help, considering that you had all the time in the world - and you intend to share it with the medic, even if it was in individual silence.

He was busy monitoring the Ground Bridge, leaving you to sweep the floor.

The radio was announcing its last song for the evening, taking their time to chat about the festivities beforehand. All the while the trio reported back to base.

" We've tracked down the signal and secured a few Energon, Ratchet," The chirpy voice called out, " Don't worry about the Ground Bridge, we're going to take the scenic route. Optimus wants to show us more of human Christmas customs, so we're heading to town."

" Copy that," If anything Ratchet seemed - annoyed ? He was muttering incoherently to himself, "Anything else you'd like to report, Smokescreen?"

" Say hi to her for me !" He pipped up and you laughed at Ratchet when he turns to you sharply.

" There's no need, she heard you loud and clear!" He ended the line, his grumbling growing louder as he tapped on the keypads. You frowned at him. It was hard to see him distressed, it was harder to see something bothering him during Christmas!

A familiar tune filled the air, carried by the wind filtering through the open doors. They howled in the distance, the cold seemingly far away from where they stood. You huffed as Ratchet's typing turned more forceful, walking over to the radio. You turned the volume up, letting the static clear before the singer's voice begin to flood the room.

Ratchet looked at you, " What are you doing?"

You were beginning to sway gently, moving across the floor with as much grace as you can muster. You tried to match your pace to the tune, pretending to use the end of the broom as a mic.

Ratchet's confusion began to thaw, leaving way for curiosity. There it is, you grinned, the telltale trait of a medic. He watched you move your shoulders, the swing of your hips, and the tapping of your feet.

" I'm dancing," You gestured, " And I don't want to do it alone."

The Ratchet everyone knew would have rejected the prospect of dancing, with you, out of all people. The old medic should have dismissed you, going back to his work. Yet, there was no work to be done, everyone else was busy except for him.

For the first time in a while, he finds himself devoid of any reason to not dance with you.

He could have made one up, that is, if he didn't want to. But the way his apprehensive look faded to one of interest didn't go unchecked and the way his legs carried him to where you stand seemed to claim otherwise.

You expected him to pick you up, but much to your surprise - and delight, he had utilized his mass displacement. In an instant, he was your size, albeit you only reached his chest, but what matters is that you were able to look at him properly.

" I thought you were against using mass displacement for recreational purposes?" You asked, smugly smiling at him.

He scoffed, " That was when we were low on Energon, Smokescreen, however - has managed to get us some. Unless of course, you'd rather wait for him to come back."

You reached out to him as he pulled away, " What? No ! Ratchet what are you talking about, I asked you didn't I?"

He avoided your gaze, but you weren't having any of it, so you continued to move to the rhythm - letting the slow tune carry you. The music twirled like thread around them, coaxing Ratchet to move in sync.

He gave in, wobbling, " I haven't danced since- " he snorted, " since I was a young mech."

" What better way to improve than to practice?" His eyes widened at the implication that you were open to the idea that this isn't a one-time thing, he seemed to be pleased by it, taking your waist.

You rest your hands loosely around his shoulders, " See, it's not so-"

He stepped on your foot, causing you to yelp.

" Frag !" He muttered, " I'm sorry-"

" That's okay," You reassured, pulling yourself closer, " It's okay."

The music carried a mellow tune, singing a song about confessions, and you feel one coming up right now. The two of you have started to blend with the song, and without noticing you've rested your cheek against his chest.

He didn't push you away.

" I don't-" He started, " I shouldn't be doing this."

" Why not?" You stayed in place, not wanting to raise your head to see his expression. Your heart pounded fiercely against your chest and you hope he couldn't feel it.

" Smokescreen."

That was enough to make you look at him. He had this forlorn look in his face, one of defeat. You pieced the puzzle, watching as his expression shifted from helplessness to hurt.

" Ratchet I don't like Smokescreen," You laughed, leaning closer, " I like you."

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but he stepped back in denial. Your name, nothing short of a gasp, as it fell from his lips, " I - I can't. Don't you think you deserve better? Smokescreen is young, bright - surely he complements you better."

His voice sounded so fragile, so unlike the doctor you know - but here, with you in his arms, he was anything but an Autobot at war. They're nothing when you're here, anchoring him to the present.

You shook your head, leaning your forehead against his helm, " No. I know what I want."

He inhaled. You allow him his silence, knowing that he was arguing with his conscience. This won't be easy - you chuckled, is anything ever even easy when it comes to metal titans from outer space?

" Are you sure?"

The music was nearly coming to end, it was pulling its last verse, dragging the tune into a crescendo. You didn't want this moment to end, so you reach out to hover your lips above his, in permission.

When he nodded mutely, you kissed him.

He was warm against you, gentle yet passionate as the grip around your waist tightened. You were now flushed against the mech, with metal hands cupping your cheeks and tugging your hair. It escalated from chaste to somewhere akin to electric, innocence washing away with each tug of his denta.

You, however, needed to breathe. When you pulled away to gasp for a lungful of air, Ratchet had to hide his embarrassment. He supported you as your legs tried to regain some sense of balance, blood rushing past your ears.

" The flushing around your facial area could only mean that both vasoconstriction and thermogenesis have been successfully activated within your system, increasing your capacity to generate warmth."

You furrowed your brows, " Are you saying you knew this would warm me up?"

" You were cold." He stated, glancing at your hands. The gesture touched you, sending another wave of fuzzy warmth throughout your body.

" You noticed." You kissed his cheek, " But don't worry, I don't need that."

You dove back into his chest, nuzzling his neck as you waltz through the final notes.

" Oh? Why is that?" His voice above the shell of your ears was intoxicating enough to send shivers down your spine, they sounded rough - laced with the kind of satisfaction and content only cats have once they've had their cream.

" Because I have you."

That fished a laugh out of him.

The radio crew bid their farewells, wishing everyone a goodnight's sleep to prepare for tomorrow. Their hefty laughter and chatter bounced against the walls, accompanying the pair who continued to dance - even after the music ended.

Bonus :

Ultra Magnus : should we stop them commander? Optimus : No, we should let them. Ultra Magnus : With all due respect sir, we've been waiting by the entrance for two hours now.

A/N : I hope this doesn't seem too OOC, I love Ratchet and his grumpiness, he deserves more love ! <3 Tell me what you guys think below, I take criticism ( just be nice lol im baby)

And yes, this work is inspired by I Wanna be Yours by the Arctic Monkeys

You can find more of my work in AO3 under sirensangel !

AO3 link : let me be the portable heater that you'll get cold without

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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years

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Their first walks on the Wayne’s garden - Chapter 4: Cassandra Cain

A glimpse into Bruce's relationships with his kids, seen through the first time he took each of them on a walk through his garden.

Or: Bruce Wayne actually tries to communicate and care for his children. Because fuck canon.

Word count: 1031

Cassandra doesn’t talk much, but she notices everything. She notices the glaring tension between Bruce and Jason, she notices how tired Tim looks all of the time, she notices the patterns Dick follows when it comes to spending time at the manor, she notices how Alfred’s clothes are always impecable, except for that one particular day when his right cufflink wasn’t as neatly tied and she could tell he wasn’t okay. She never asked why, but she noticed it.

She was trained to notice it, so wheter or not it’s in her nature she can’t tell, neither does she feels the need to figure it out; it’s an useful skill to have, both in combat and in life, and that saved her many times before. Sometimes it’s amusing when people take her for an oblivious teen because she won’t necessarily point out all that she sees. Of course, her father and sibilings know better than that, but Gotham’s rich snobs always underestimate her, which leads to her knowing many of the secrets they spill around her. They can be infuriating, surely, but whenever she’s treated poorly her brothers won’t hesitate on breaking a nose or two.

All of that comes to say that she noticed the routine walks Bruce takes in his property. She still wonders why does he bother taking them. Cass decided to find out today, so she waited for him to pass by the living room, headed to the garden. It was around 18:40 pm when he came by. She stood up, enough movement to catch the man’s attention, and signed at him, asking where he was going (as if she didn’t know).

“The garden. I’m taking a walk, would you like to join me?” He asked. Cass nodded and followed him outside.

She could talk now, she had been learning. But it’s so hard and so confusing sometimes, so taxing, that she tends to sign whenever she needs to communicate. And sometimes Cass doesn’t communicate at all, because she doesn’t feel the need to. Her family respects her wishes and space, but she can tell when her sibilings start to worry about her quietness, so she will throw in a question or two about whatever she can come up with, just as way to tell them she’s okay. She’s not sure if they caught up to what she does yet.

Cass and Bruce walked together at a slow pace. The sky wasn’t all dark yet, and the stars were hidden behind the still too bright sky, even though the sun had already set. She laid her eyes on a bright, colorful, flying insect. What was the name? Not an ant, not a beetle... Butterfly. It was a butterfly, flying over purplish flowers. Cass kept her gaze fixated on it, watching it’s small yellow wings carry it around, landing on flowers, in a very innefective and beautiful path. Bruce noticed his daughter watching it intently, and stopped by her side.

“Beautiful.” She said, quietly “Like ballet.” He was silent, and she felt the need to elaborate, but was unsure on how. She gave it a try “Too many turns. Circles. Not a very fast way to move. But nice to watch.”

“Yes. They really are beautiful creatures.” Bruce smiled, watching how the girl concentrated on the little creature in front of her. The yellow insect landed on a flower for a second before flying off. Cassandra straightened her posture and they kept walking “Do you want to enroll in ballet classes?” Cass eyes widened with interest for a second. She looked down.

“No time.” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Give it a try, if it’s too much you can always quit.” He said. She stopped walking, so they could talk better. Cass signed, explaining what was in her head.

“Joining ballet classes would take time off of batgirl. I don’t want that. If I’m not perfect, people will get hurt, and it will be my fault.”

“Cass, you don’t have to dedicate all of your time to training and fighting to be a good fighter.” Bruce signed too “It’s important to do things you enjoy doing every now and again. Besides, ballet will keep you active. Learning how to dance might even improve on your fighting skills.”

Cass pondered on it for a moment before signing back, saying she’ll consider it.

They kept walking around, as the stars filled the sky and the full moon light up the garden. It was so bright tonight that they barely needed the artificial lights to illuminate their way. Cass noticed how the flowers looked pretty under the moonlight, almost as much as they did in the sun. A more melancholic beauty, but beauty nonetheless. The blue hue the night brought upon them made everything calmer, but she had a buzzing feling inside. They’d be going on patrol at any minute now. The sun was down, the moon was up, and she should be suiting up. So should Bruce. They started making their way back, still slowly.

“Why do you walk every day?” Cass asked. She realized it was a confusing question, and tried to make it clearer “Outside. Here.”

“Because I find this place beautiful. And it gives me space to think. Or not.” He responded.

“Why not think inside? I can think inside.” She insisted. He smiled.

“Sometimes, Cass, The mansion and it’s movements can feel... suffocating. Maybe it’s partly due the memories it brings up in me.” Cass could understand that. He spent his life there, surely there were a lot of things he remembers “But still... This garden... Maybe it’s the open sky, maybe it’s the flowers... Feels freeing. Doesn’t it?” She nodded.

“Like a butterfly.”

...

After coming back from patrol, Bruce needed an icepack. Cass tossed him one without being asked, like usual. She took off her mask.

“Batman... Uh, Bruce...”

“Yes, Cass?” The man answered, cowl hanging from his neck.

“I... want to do it.” He looked a little confused “Ballet. Can I?”

“Oh!” he grinned “Of course. We’ll look at some good studios in Gotham first thing tomorrow, okay?” She nodded happily “Now hit the showers Cass. We had a busy night, you should rest.”

#Their first walks on the Wayne's garden #Walks on the Wayne's garden #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #bruce wayne & cassandra cain #batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne is a good parent #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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ellstersmash · 5 years

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homeward

or: 5 times Athi didn’t kiss Makon, and 1 time she did

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Makon x Athi Lavellan

Rating: T for Teen

A/N: Wanted to try something different, so here’s my very first 5+1 fic for OC kiss week!! Makon, of course, belongs to my beloved @bearly-tolerable ♥

A wayward thought. Makon's lips around a bottle of moonshine—Kelya's best batch so far—then he winces and shakes his head and hands it back to her and says something and she nods. But her mind is fixed on I really think that maybe I should kiss him.

How ridiculous. They've only just met. He's leaving in the morning and she doesn’t get to go, and she knows next to nothing about him. Except that he's apparently older than he looks. Like, very old. Like, ancient. Doesn't look it for damn sure, but shit, he probably thinks she's just a nosy kid. Deshanna certainly wouldn't have said much to change his mind.

Then like the sun breaking free of a brief cloud cover, the moment lifts and he turns away to accept a honeyed fig from a passing tray.

How ridiculous, and she keeps her eyes on the dancers.

She is the first to spot the party on their return. The first to spot him, rather; his is an impossible figure to miss. He brightens at her wave. Tired, of course, from the journey, and looking forward to a warm meal and a comfortable bed.

There are some familiar faces around him, though fewer than he left with. Still fighting, she hopes, not buried somewhere under bare soil. But no, the others would have seen to the proper rites. She smiles warmly and extends her hand as they meet again.

“Makon.”

“Athi.”

He remembers her name.

His palm is huge and calloused, his grip firm and brief but it feels too long. Not long enough.

“Camp’s not far,” she says and tears herself free and leads them homeward.

Makon’s magic is elegant. Like part of him, an effortless expression. The gaggle of children surrounding him marvel at his display and Athi feels silly for joining them, but damn. She leans against the rough, choppy trunk of a dogwood, impressed and jealous in turns, watching plants she’s never seen sprout and grow and bloom and die again in the ground before him.

He sends the children away, chuckling at their enthusiasm. Stands and dusts off his knees, catches her eye and she nods.

“You put on quite a show, mountain man.”

“Thank you.” He glances around and ducks beneath a branch to come in close. “Something tells me they’ve not seen magic used for such frivolity.”

“Nope,” she admits. “Keeper’d have my head. If I could manage it in the first place.”

“Ah. May I ask why?”

Athi smirks. “Didn’t you know? Humans hate magic. Use it irresponsibly and they’ll come for you. Snatch you out of your bed in the middle of the night and cut off your ears and lock you away.”

He looks disturbed. “I am sorry. I forget how different our lives are.”

“They are that, but I was kidding,” she says with a grin. “Mostly.”

After a short silence, he places his hand on the bark a good two feet above her head. He looks down again, at her, and seems entirely too pleased with himself.

“Well, I hope your Keeper will not begrudge me one last indulgence.”

She’s waiting for him to explain when a subtle movement behind him draws her eye. All along the low-hanging branches, buds that weren’t there a moment ago unfold into tender white blossoms and Athi cranes her neck back to see the rest of the tree following suit. She laughs in surprise and reaches up to run her fingers through the leaves. It’s not an illusion. She has so many questions, about how does it work, and is it even useful, and will the tree still bloom when it’s supposed to, and as he bids her goodnight and walks away, she forgets them all.

Loop. Loop. Loop, and through. Loop. Loop. Loop, and through.

She doesn’t realize how focused she is until a voice behind her snaps her back to reality.

“Beautiful work.”

It is deep and melodic and undoubtedly his and Athi whirls her head around to make sure because he’s not supposed to be here for another month, but there he is. Standing behind her, tall and handsome as ever. She grins and jumps up and the half-woven basket tumbles from her lap to the ground, forgotten in her excitement.

She hugs him.

Tight.

When she realizes what she’s done, how close he is, she stiffens. Almost lets go, but he seems comfortable enough and they are friends after all—or something like it—and maybe it’s not so strange.

His low laugh rumbles within her. “I am glad to see you as well.”

Athi steps back and feels silly, tucks her hair behind her ear and shoves her hands deep into the pockets of her tunic.

“Sorry,” she says.

“Whatever for?”

“I don’t usually—nevermind. You’re early!”

“Indeed. I hope it does not put a strain on your clan’s goodwill, but the tasks which kept me homebound were completed sooner than expected, and the darkspawn have been subdued—at least for a time.” He picks her project up off the ground and dusts it off, running his thumb along the threads as he admires her handiwork. “I saw no cause for delay, and a boon of fair weather sped our journey southward.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to find somewhere to put you,” Athi says, folding her arms and pretending to think it over. “You don’t mind sharing with the halla, right?”

But she can’t keep a straight face.

Makon’s smile breaks when she does. He laughs, and to have caused it is an airy, delightful feeling. Then he holds up the basket. “Truly, this is remarkable. We have weavers, of course, but the style is quite different.”

“Thanks.” She takes it from him and sits back down. “If you’ve got time, I could teach you.”

She’s not sure why she says it, having never taught anybody anything before, and she’s sure he’ll decline. Sure he’ll need to settle in or find someone more important to inform of his arrival, but instead he takes a seat near hers in the sweet-smelling clover.

“Yes. If you are willing, I would like that very much.”

They leave tracks in the snow. Athi looks back and wonders if someone might wander this way and imagine them walking here, like this, or think the image too strange to be anything but happenstance. His large and hers little, parallel but dissonant. Like a bear and a fox—they couldn’t have come here together.

She tries to follow in his for a time, erase hers entirely, but his strides are too great and she slips. He turns when she yelps, and laughs, and helps her back up, and brushes the snow from her hair. It is far better, anyway, to walk beside him.

“Have you— Are you— attached to anyone?” He says it out of nowhere.

“Not that I can see.”

By now he knows her well enough to roll his eyes. “Athi.”

Her insides go warm. “No, I haven’t and I’m not.”

Would you like to be? he’s supposed to say now. As in, perhaps, to me?

Then he’ll get bashful, and stammer, but the hard part is done. She’ll take his hand and say yes and he’ll smile and kiss her and—

It’s one of her more overplayed scenarios, but it never gets farther than that. She doesn’t know what it feels like, doesn’t know what he’d do, doesn’t know what he wants. Doesn’t know what comes next. He can’t stay, after all, and she can’t go.

But all he says is “Oh,” as though he wasn’t the one to ask.

They are neither of them overly talkative, but the silence is usually less intentional. Less smothering and more space. But with his eyes straight ahead and his expression deep and stern, he looks lost in thought and she doesn’t wish to be a bother. They keep walking, parallel but disconnected.

“Are you?” she asks after a very long time. “Or have you?”

“No.”

This is not going well.

“Welcome to Nevarra,” Athi says as they pass through the tree line. Here, their tracks join dozens of others—littler, larger, criss-crossing errand-paths on unrelated journeys. “Almost there.”

“Excellent. This is a lengthier trek than I had anticipated.”

“It’ll be worth it.” She hopes, less sure of herself now than she was four hours ago.

Makon opens his mouth as if to respond, but then closes it again and and keeps walking, wearing a private sort of smile. In his defense, she didn’t give him much information when she extended the invitation. And in hers, he didn’t bother to ask before accepting.

The ground rises and the wood along with it, making their slippery steps more dangerous, but the climb is why they came this way. That, and the bare hill at the top, which as they crest it is forgotten. And, most importantly, Makon’s soft appreciative sigh as he stops to take in the view. A sapphire blue lake lies below, frozen still and flat and gleaming, etched with fierce white streaks painted bold across its surface like a sky-god’s canvas. Nothing but a handful of fir trees mars its edges; the rest is an unbroken blanket of snow.

“Well?” she asks, and wraps her arm around his. “What’d I tell you?”

Makon smiles that same smile from before and looks down at her, warm as summer.

“It is not my intent to belittle such beauty, but”—he flusters, coughs, glances away, mutters the rest—“it was already worth it.”

He's right. He's terrible at goodbyes.

The first time he left, she was nothing to him and he said nothing to her. The second time he left, he and the others had gone before the sun had finished rising, and she had not even begun to consider it. This time, he was what—waiting her out? Hoping she wouldn’t notice he was missing?

No. This time, she wants more.

A lot more.

Athi sits down next to him. Despite the cool winter air, her palms burn in anticipation; she has to make absolutely certain her magic is pushed back, locked away, just in case. When she is sure, she reaches over. Half expects him to stop her, but he doesn’t. Eyes wide, he lets her guide him in nearer with the gentlest touch, like a halla left out to graze too long. Like he wants to go where she’s taking him. Like maybe he’s in as far as she is.

That’s a good sign, right?

“Fine,” she says against his mouth, steadier than she thought she’d be for getting this close. Though no one told her heartbeat, fluttering like a hummingbird. “No goodbye.”

So little distance between them, then with a tilt of her head there is none. Their lips meet and she feels his hesitation, feels him freeze and then melt, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. Solid, even through her coat. His skin is cold but he warms so, so quickly. Moves against her like water.

She could kiss him for days.

But a burst of chatter nearby reminds her they don’t have that kind of time. He can’t stay, and she can’t go. Unwilling, she pulls away.

Makon opens his eyes and veritably beams at her, and she wants to forget that fatalistic bullshit and kiss him all over again. But instead she pulls a strand of his hair through her fingers and grins at her success.

“Just… don’t be a stranger, mountain man.”

And she goes to help Deshanna with the chores.

#ellster writes #ockiss20 #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #makon #makathi #athi lavellan #AFHFAUHWFIAL BEAR I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ♥

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amaramonette · 4 years

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is that [ ISABEL DURANT ]? no, that’s just [ AMARA MONETTE ]. [ SHE/HER ] is [ TWENTY-SIX ] years old and is a [ PROFESSIONAL FIGURE SKATER ]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [ NEARLY THEIR WHOLE LIFE ]. on a good day, they’re [ PERCEPTIVE & CULTURED ]. but watch out! they can also be [ SPITEFUL & POSSESSIVE ]. [ MORAL OF THE STORY by ASHE ] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around spring hill!

hellllooo! i’m li and i’m pretty excited to be here and start using my new bby. she’s a bit of a mash-up of a few different muses that i absolutely love so i’m very stoked to see how this goes lmao. i apologize now for this bio, it took me fivever and it's hella long but like everything i do is long. ( sorry not sorry<3 ). i am also down for alllll the connections, the more drama and angst the better lol. hit me up if you’d like to plot or like this and i’ll come to you!

[ triggers: bad parenting tw, mental abuse tw, ]

GENERAL INFORMATION.

NAME → amara quinn monette NICKNAMES → mara, am, or ams AGE → twenty-six DATE OF BIRTH → october 28th PLACE OF BIRTH → springhill, nj, usa EDUCATION → high school ged ZODIAC → scorpio GENDER → female ORIENTATION → pansexual, demiromantic RELIGIOUS VIEWS → atheist

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

FACE CLAIM → isabel durant HEIGHT → 5'4" WEIGHT → 128 lbs HAIR COLOR → blonde EYE COLOR → blue BODY TYPE → thin, athletic

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

FATHER → utp monette ( WC ) MOTHER → evelyn monette YOUNGER SISTER → utp monette ( WC )

EX-HUSBAND → utp ( WC )

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS → venturesome, determined, cultured, & perceptive  NEGATIVE TRAITS → possessive, spiteful, dramatic, & oversensitive  INTERESTS → dancing, cooking, photography, flower pressing, yoga, dogs, & caffeine  DISLIKES → humblebraggers and name droppers, people who talk during movies, people who say ‘you look tired’, & willful ignorance AESTHETICS → being up before the sun, the sound of skates on fresh ice, a vintage polaroid camera, a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, & a strong red wine.  MORAL ALIGNMENT → chaotic neutral PERSONALITY TYPE → ENFP-T ( the campaigner )

BACKSTORY.

❦ amara monette was born and raised in spring hill, new jersey to a marine biologist and local contractor. her family has always been fairly well known in town as her father has been quite a pillar in the community and his company has done a lot of work for the town. her only sibling is six years younger than her and the two sisters have been like oil and water since the beginning and have never been able to see eye to eye on anything.

❦ the monette family dynamics could easily be categorized as dysfunctional but in amara’s eyes, that term is putting it lightly. there’s never been any doubt in the eldest daughter’s mind that she was an unplanned accident—a fact she’d gotten her mother to admit after heavy plying with wine when she was only a young teen. “if we didn’t have you, I could still be doing what I love.” her mother blathered drunkenly.

❦ the only person who didn’t treat her like that—as though she’d ruined their life—was her father, though due to his work, he spent more time out of the house than with his family. unlike her mother or sister, the one thing her father always did was encourage amara. remind her that no matter what she was striving for, it was possible and just within reach.

❦ the bond amara shared with her father was special, just as the bond her sister shared with their mother was special. though her sister also shared a loving, positive bond with BOTH of their parents and what amara shared with their mother was anything but positive or loving.

❦ at the age of four, her mother enrolled her in ballet classes hoping to teach the rambunctious little girl some discipline. much to her mother’s surprise, mara fell in love with dance immediately. but ballet, or dance in any such capacity, hadn’t been apart of her mother's ultimate plan for her. the following year, despite all the crying and protests from her daughter, the wannabe ballerina found herself being taught to ice skate.

❦ she didn’t particularly enjoy skating, not like the other girls she trained with did, but amara succeeded in ways many of them couldn’t over the years. her indifference to the sport and at being the best had given her an edge above the competition. and the more naturally gifted she proved to be at the sport, the further her mother pushed amara and the more intense the training became. as she got older she managed to convince her mother to let her enroll in dance classes once more if only to help in the long run, she’d say. it was in those moments, those classes, that she felt most at peace. as though she’d found just where she was meant to be—or what she ought to be doing. she’s never stopped dancing since.

❦ at the age of nine, her mother had her pulled out of school to be privately tutored so she could spend more time on the ice—her mother only had one goal and she never let amara forget it. the olympics. though before her mother had the chance to remove her from school, the blonde had already made the best friend she could ever ask for. ( WC )

❦ it wasn’t until years later, at thirteen, she discovered that her mother had been forcing her down the same path she’d been set on as a girl. whereas her younger sister found herself free to pursue whatever interests she’d like, amara found herself on a rink shaped prison. and the unwavering pressure her mother applied only made it feel as though her ice space was forever shrinking.

❦ amara spent a majority of her youth and teens training, both on and off the ice, and whatever little free time she had left was spent with her small group of friends. friends her mother disliked for the most part and did all she could to keep her daughter away from. forcing amara to spend time with the other skaters in her class at every turn. not that she’d ever been able to fit in with them even if she wanted to. ( WCs )

❦ becoming a legal adult and dreaming of what it would finally be like to have the freedom she’d always longed for was just about all the blonde could do to keep moving forward. to keep her mother from truly bringing him down. but the relentless pressure from the cold-hearted woman and the fact that she showed no signs of letting up or letting amara walk away if she so desired to caused her to finally crack just a few months shy of her eighteenth birthday.

❦ like a thief in the night, amara disappeared from her parents home taking as many of her belongings with her as she could carry, save for all her skating gear. she spent several weeks sleeping on the couches of different friends while hiding from her mother and whatever wrath she intended to unleash for her missing so much ice time and standing up the coaches her parents paid plenty of money for.

❦ it was in those weeks of solitude that amara discovered what skating actually meant to her and just how much she still needed it in her life. the seventeen-year-old realized that she wasn’t as ready to hang up her skates as she previously thought and that there was still a thing or two she could learn from being on the rink.

❦ amara returned to the ice on the sole condition that her mother would let her do things her own way and would stop projecting her own regrets and more importantly wants on her daughter. things began to look up after that for the monette family in more ways than one and dysfunction that had once been so deeply rooted began to dissolve away just a bit. ( not so much between the sister lol, mostly just amara and her mom )

❦ she moved out on her own not long after, eager to have a life of her own as best she could, but being as clueless and willing to trust as she was, amara made many mistakes and gave her heart away much too easily which only led to it being crushed repeatedly by those who weren’t worthy of safeguarding it, to begin with. ( WCs )

❦ at twenty-one, after only dating for about a year amara married the man she believed was the one. however, it didn’t take her long to see just how incredibly wrong she was and the relationship was more toxic than anything else. she filed for divorce ten months later. ( WC )

❦ amara continued skating in hopes of making the olympic team—but this time the dream truly belonging to her, which seemed to pay off as she managed to do so successfully twice in 2014 and again in 2018. the blonde got a bronze medal in 2014 and didn’t place at all in 2018 after taking a nasty fall during her long program and making the mistake of not taking enough overall risks to make up for it. spooked after the olympic fall that nearly ended her entire career, amara decided to stop skating at a competitive level.

❦ in the following years, amara found herself joining several different national ice-skating tours but couldn’t quite shake the feeling of how far she’d fallen and how demeaning her life now seemed, skating for nothing more than mere amusement. unsatisfied and upset upon coming to the conclusion there was nothing else she could truly exceed at, amara took up the mantle that countless other incredible skaters also had, coach. a rewarding job that’s more or less left her at peace.

OTHER IMPORTANT INFO.

❦ growing up, she was the most curious of children, constantly asking questions and wanting to know more about anything and everything. as the years passed, her curiosity never quite fizzled out as her parents as hoped. instead, the small blonde just became more confident in her ability to get the answers she sought and more determined to have it when a person wasn’t forthright with her. it’s something that leads her to trouble too often as she’s brought on a whole new meaning to the idea of questioning authority.

❦ amara can be quite a master of deceit and manipulation if she’d like. she gets a sort of amusement out of playing games with people and confusing them, especially with those she doesn’t get on well with. she definitely has a few different faces and is very particular about when she wears which face. her sweet face, where she’s likely to try and charm the pants off people, is the face she wears most of the time when interacting with strangers or just the general public. few people have ever seen her at her truest and those who have are either the ones she trusts most or the ones who’ve crossed her in unforgivable ways.

❦ anyone who knows amara is aware of how jealous or possessive she can be of those in her life she cares for. she’s never been able to quite help herself and isn’t afraid to make her feelings known when she feels her relationships have been infringed upon in any way. making friends and building relationships has always been something she’s struggled with as her childhood wasn’t normal in any sense. all her time after school was spent training—on or off the ice. and when she wasn’t training she was home with her family who she didn’t quite mesh with.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

childhood best friend

ex-husband

father

younger sister

old friends —

new friends

rivals

exes / flings

i’m here for it allll!

#about amara.#springhillintro #bad parenting tw #mental abuse tw

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vaxreed · 5 years

Note

Convin, 21 🤗

Thanks for the ask!!! Love you mon!!! Hope youlike this!

Convin + Best Friends Sibling

Tw: mentions of abuse, underage drinking.

Send me a prompt if you’re okay with being patient++++

Gavin had met Richard at the park when they werenothing but children scraping their knees on the pavement and playing in thedirt. Home life wasn’t the best and the park was the only safe place he couldtake refuge in. It also helped that it was in public and his family would neverrisk appearance to let out their anger and frustration. It was his favoriteplace in the world. The swings were his spot. Everyone knew that. He made sureeveryone knew that.

So, when he went to go sit in his swingand found some polished up kid sitting there instead he saw red. Feelings andbeing able to handle them was something he wasn’t good at. If someone was angeryou find the closest person and you let them know how angry you were. It’s howthings were done at home.

“Hey! Get off my swing!” tiny fistsballed at his side, face red with anger. The other boy had blue eyes thatpeered into his very soul, eyes that seemed much too old for his soft face.Gavin was thrown off by the lack of reaction.

“Didn’t you hear me?! Get off!” hegets closer hand wrapping around the chain of the swing.

“What’s wrong with the swing next tome?” He tilts his head to the side.

“That isn’t my swing!” Nothing everbelonged to him, it was Eli’s first and his leftovers were given to him. Thiswas the one thing he had ownership over. Tears threatened to spill from theanger of everything accumulating.

“Can I still swing next to you if Imove?” the boy asks. No one ever wants to swing with him, especially whenhe tries to fight them. They mostly run away when they see him. Not that hegives them much reason to stay. He’s not nice or fun.

“Why would you want to?”

“I still want to swing, and I don’t haveany friends. You seem angry but mostly sad. Like me.”

Gavin didn’t know what to say just stared at himas the boy moved swings. Suddenly, the swing doesn’t seem so important.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“G-Gavin.” finding it difficult tospeak.

“Call me, Nines.”

[mobile readers, beware keep reading line]

It started from there. Years later they wouldstill be best friends. He found out later on that Nines was a foster kid thatwas spending time with a decent enough family. Nines was one of the lucky fewwho was adopted and at 13 would be moving into his new family’s house.

Gavin spent a lot of time at their house afterthat. Amanda seemed nice enough, Nines seemed indifferent towards her mostlygrateful to have space of his own and Amanda’s house had plenty of room.

Amanda had adopted another boy years earlier whoeerily resembled Nines. Someone 4 years older than they were. Her perfectlittle heir she groomed herself and would no doubt do the same with Nines. Shewas smart and needed a backup plan in case he failed, which is why Nines washere.

It was creepy how identical they looked; Ninesdidn’t see the similarities. He didn’t see him around at first. Always in classor tutoring. He and Nines were just hanging out in his new room. It hadeverything he could ever want and more books than he could possibly read butwas still expected to.

They were talking about the new Power Rangersepisode that had come out and brought out of the conversation by a faint knockon the door. They turned and Gavin was instantly smitten by the visitor. Warmbrown eyes that he found himself lost in, cute moles that contrasted his paleskin and nicely kept hair.

Nines had met Connor before, but they never hadmuch to say to one another. Nines was soft spoken, while Connor was alreadytrained to have nice small talk that Nines wasn’t receptive to.

“I don’t speak bullshit.” when heasked how he liked his room. He was smart enough not to speak like that infront of Amanda, but Gavin was so proud of his best friend.

“What?” is all Nines said to the olderteen in the doorway, hostility practically oozing off him.

“Amanda wanted me to check how you’redoing, do you need anything?” a smile brighter than the sun, and Gavin wasmelting. Connor’s eyes fell on him and Gavin’s face felt hot.

“Oh, I’m sorry! You’re with a guest. Isthis a friend of yours? Hello, I’m Connor, I suppose I’m Richard’s newsibling.”

Nines’ frowned at this Gavin couldn’t take hiseyes off him. Nines told him everything was fine and he if could kindly getback to speaking with his best friend. Connor left with a smile and a wave, hispolite smile turning sad when he went out of sight.

“Holy shit your new brother is hot.”Gavin finally said after he finished gaping.

“He’s not my brother, we just happened tolive in the same house.”

They dropped it and went back to discussing thevillain for this episode.

More years would pass, both at the tender age of18 they continued to hang out as much as possible. Nines got into a prestigiousuniversity where Amanda just happens to teach at. It wasn’t far, but Nineswould be busy with his studies afterwards and wouldn’t have much time to spendwith him. Gavin would also be furthering his education at the local communitycollege and the police academy after that. This was a year away and werespending as much time as they could together.

They went to a party together thrown by Gavin’sclose friend Tina a farewell party for those who are going out of state forcollege and celebrating the end of the school year.

Nines wasn’t one for parties but still wentbecause Gavin liked going. The drinks were free and so was the fun. One drinkturns into two and he loses count after the 5th. He struggles to get to thebathroom sitting next to Nines in the hall. Nines has had a few too many aswell and is rambling on about the intricacies of glow in the dark stickers andhow they are the foundation of America.

He remembers someone shaking him awake and peersinto warm eyes the same color as the whiskey that burned down his throatearlier. He struggles to keep his vision right.

“Connor?”

Nines flicks his eyes up, his face lookingconcerned.

“Connor? What’s wrong?” the years having cooleddown his relationship with someone he now considered his older brother.

“Amanda is coming home tomorrow morning,her meeting was cancelled, and she cannot see you in this state, Richard.”

Nines is in more control of his body than Gavinis and has no problem lifting himself off the floor. Shit how much did he haveto drink? He struggled to stand.

“You lightweight.” Nines huffed athim.

He felt something swoop under his legs and hisstomach dropped as he was lifted into the air bridal style.

“I’ve got you, Gavin.” his wordshoneyed and so sincere. Gavin was thankful for his flushed cheeks his head restingagainst his chest. He felt so warm, so soft. He felt at peace in his arms. Hiseyes cracked open and sees the back of the passenger seat of Connor’s car. Thensees his hands grabbing fistfuls of grass as he vomits directly onto the frontlawn. When he is done, he is scooped back up and returned to the car until theyreturned to the large house.

He is guided to the bathroom although he knowsthis house like the back of his hand. He’s here so often, it might as well behome. His family didn’t give a shit where he was, and they were probablythankful he wasn’t there to bother them.

Nines was like a brother to him. He has toremember that when talking about Connor, his feelings for him were more thanthe disdain he showed in front of Nines as an act of solidarity.

The late-night conversations they have in thekitchen are something he treasures just as fondly as the time he spends withNines.

“You must be very close friends withRichard if he lets you come and go into his space as you please.” Connortells him while they share a pint of ice cream, passing it back and forth.

“Nines may seem like a bastard, but onceyou get to know him, well, he’s still a bastard.”

They both let out a small laugh.

“But I couldn’t ask for a better friend. He’simportant to me. My best friend.” he confessed.

A sad smile tugged on Connor’s face. Connor alwayslooked a little sad, it was always lurking behind his eyes. He’s met Amanda andhas heard Nines talk to him about how much pressure she puts on him to succeed.All the classes and extracurriculars that will put him on the path to take overher legacy when she’s gone. He wonders how it must have been for Connor allalone.

“I wish I knew what to do. He hates me andI don’t know why. I know the word brother bothers him, but…. I’ve alwayswanted a brother. Someone who knows what it’s like to have your future alreadydecided for you. I don’t want to compete with him. I want to get to knowhim.”

Gavin was silent for a moment, not knowing whatto say. He knows he’s heard Nines vent about Connor. He thinks he’s too nice,spineless. That he will learn from his mistakes and be superior when it comesto who Amanda favors. Nines doesn’t care about the praise he just wants to bethe best.

“I’ll say this. Stop trying so hard. Henotices it. Act like you don’t even know him it’ll drive him up the wall. Hewants competition, give him a good show. Nothing cutthroat, but enough to piquehis interest. He’s kinda of a weird guy, but he’ll have your back when you earnit the right way.”

Connor seemed like he was mentally taking notesand had some time to process the information. The smile that came from thegratitude left Gavin flustered.

“Thank you for listening. I know it isn’tyour business but you’re easy to talk to when you’re not with him.” knowing heacts a bit cold when Nines is around.

Gavin huffs. "Don’t tell Nines I saidanything nice about him or I’ll never hear the end of it.” Connorchuckles. The truth is that while he wanted to stop seeing Connor so sad, hewanted Nines to have an older brother who actually gave a shit about him. Heand Eli weren’t exactly close. He saw Nines more than he did Eli and it wasbetter this way. Having someone look after him would be good for both of them.

“My lips are sealed.” he promised.

Now here he was 2 years after that conversation,face in the toilet as he’s spilling his guts while Connor’s rubs his back.Nines waiting with a glass of water and a worried expression on his face whilehe waits for his friend to finish.

He can’t hear much aside from his own purgingbut between his breaks he makes out a few sentences.

“Don’t lead him on. You hurt him and Iwon’t hesitate to get rid of you for good.”

Connor’s response is cut off by Gavin’s puking.He is put to bed and wakes up with the worst hangover ever. Connor has goneback to his dorm by the next morning.

After Nines goes to college and is living at thedorm, Gavin doesn’t come around much. Not that he can, training to be a policeofficer is hard work and he’s surprised he has time for anything. The yearspass and he only has lunch with Nines once a month and the occasional text.Things are nice, he remembers growing up with him fondly and wishes him well asthey live their own lives. His thoughts always go back to Connor and their late-nightconversations. He wonders what would happen if he were to see him at this age.Was his young infatuation clouded by nostalgia? He didn’t know.

Nines invites him to the Holiday dinner. They’venever actually celebrated but having some photos for their social media wouldmake it all the better for them. Gavin hasn’t stepped foot in their house inyears and feels a certain tangle in his stomach as he stands at the front door,bottle of wine in hand as he waits for someone to answer.

The door opens and he is met with those kindbrown eyes that swallow him whole. A genuine smile as he is spotted.

“Gavin! Nines told me you would be havingdinner with us. Come in.” he steps aside to let Gavin in. Gavin’s alwayshad scars on him, just the result of growing up the way he did, but the onestretched across the bridge of his nose was new and suddenly felt an itch ofinsecurity as he noticed no scars on Connor’s flawless skin.

Connor walked and talked with him. He’s muchmore energetic than he was before, he seems happy and Gavin likes seeing himthis way. Being away from this place and Amanda’s hold works wonders it seems.

“Richard is running late and Amanda went topick up the food, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me entertaining you fornow.” Connor confesses in an apologetic tone.

“Guess I have to leave, huh?” he jokesand the corners of Connor’s eyes crinkle as he laughs.

They walk into the kitchen, as they did allthose years ago, it felt familiar. They caught up about what they’ve been upto. Gavin’s time at the academy and his first year as detective. Connor and histeaching position at another university away from Amanda and his work with anonprofit that works with foster youth.

They ended up sitting on the counter inches apartsharing a pint of gelato Amanda had meant for dessert.

“Can I ask you something, Gavin?”

“It’s gonna cost ya.” he replies.

“Will another bite of this gelatosuffice?”

Gavin pretends to think it over.

“Sure, what’s up?” as he snatches thepint back taking the payment into his mouth.

“I enjoy your company. I’ve enjoyed yourcompany for many years now. Ever since you took the time to tell me how toconnect with Nines. I have found a true friend in him and it wouldn’t have beenpossible without you. But…I figured our age difference was inappropriate topursue anything romantic but now that we’re older. I was wondering if—”

Gavin cuts his rambling off with a stickystrawberry flavored kiss. It’s sloppy and poorly timed but it’s perfect. Connorkisses him back with fervor running a hand through Gavin’s thick locks of darkhair. All the tension and feelings that have built up over the years come outas a noise that rips out of Gavin’s throat. They part after a few moments.

“You were takin’ too long to get to thepoint. Figured I save us a few months.” pressing their foreheads together,Connor chuckles.

“You were always one to go headfirstwithout thinking.”

“You think enough for the both of us. Plus,I’ve been wanting to do that for a while too.”

“Why wait any longer?” before Connorpulls him into another kiss. Gavin wraps his arms around his neck and pulls himcloser. It begins to snow outside.

++++

Bonus/Scrapped Scene:

Tw: Drug use

Gavin brought the lighter close to the joint inhis hand lighting the end and sucking in as much smoke as he could. This wastheir second one rolled, and Nines was already sprawled on the couch inside hisroom. This would be the last time they could do this before they needed to getclean for their respective futures.

“Where are my cookies?” Gavin asked,slowly tasting the words in his mouth.

Nines languidly rose his hand in the air anddidn’t say anything.

“Nines!” Gavin said louder and Ninesshot up from the bed.

“They’re downstairs.” he says while hestands and leaves without a word. Nines was always weird when high. Gavin satthere staring at the ceiling as smoke filled the room. Amanda was away at aconference and Connor was already doing his own thing in life, he visits everyonce in a while, mostly when Amanda requests his presence.

He blinks slowly, on the cusp of sleep as helets the drug take him. Nines hasn’t been back in a while. He hears the dooropen but thinks nothing of it.

An hour later and a box of cookies and chipsgone the two are placed in front of the T.V playing video games and doing anawful job of winning.

The beep of a car locking brought them both oftheir drug induced hazes. Nines set the controller down and walked through thesmoky room to peer out the window.

“Shit.” he muttered out.

“Is it Amanda?”

“Might as well be. It’s Connor and he’s asnitch.” Nines went to turn on the fan and open the window as he spritzes theroom with Febreze, desperately trying to hide all evidence of all theiractivities.

Gavin rushes to find the eyedrops Nines kept inhis desk drawer for situations just like these. The moments pass so slowly thepanic was dulled by the drugs. He’s never met Connor. Only seen photos andheard Nines talk about him. They looked alike, nothing special. He lived indorms at the university he attended which didn’t make sense since it was only30 minutes away, but Nines told him that he would do the same next year. Thismassive house would be empty.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and theyhad done all they could. They went back to playing until a faint knock came atthe door.

“Richard.” a firm voice, a bit higher thanNines, came through the other side of the door.

“I’m busy.” Nines tried to stall for as long aspossible while the small fan did it’s best to propel the smoke out of the room.

“Richard, open the door.” no doubt he couldsmell what was going on in here.

“You’re breaking up. I’ll call you back later.”Nines continued to try to get Connor to leave. Gavin tried to hide his snickersby bringing a hand over his mouth. Nines hits him on the shoulder mouthing himto shut up.

Connor made no attempt to leave. Nines gave inand unlocked the door and flung it open immediately going back to his game.Connor stepped into the room his nose wrinkling at the smell.

Gavin didn’t bother taking his eyes off the gameuntil they lost and then they were drawn to Connor.

His eyes widened at the sight of him. He was slendererthan Nines was with perfectly styled hair and moles that peppered his flawlessskin. His cheeks flushed as he took in the sight of his disappointed frown andstraight poster. The two brothers started arguing about something, but Gavinwas content with just watching the way Connor’s lips curves and his narrow hipsswung.

The man spoke with his perfectly manicured handsexpressing his frustration with Nines’ behavior. His rolled-up sleeves accentedhis strong forearms and loosened tie exposed his throat. Eventually, he leftwhen there was nothing else left to be said.

Nines’ attention went back to him and looked athim in worry as he noticed the blank and open mouth expression on his face.

“Are you okay? Are you having a bad trip?”

“Holy shit, Nines. Why didn’t you warn me thatyour brother was hot I just stood there lookin’ like a dumbass!”

“Granted, you always look like that.” and it wasGavin’s turn to hit Nines.

#convin #gavin reed #connor #dbh connor #dbh #detroit become human #ficlet #my shit #eggsnbaconyouaremistaken #1 down a few to go!!!#sorry for the wait !!

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