#would really fucking appreciate being taken seriously and given a hell of a lot more respect

[suzycreamcheeze]

didn’t realize how much it genuinely bothers me that the assumption is I am simply a glorified babysitter

I do far more than corralling toddlers all day. But yeah it’s not like actually a serious thing right? Providing enriching activities & lessons for children with and without developmental delays or disabilities, as well as working closely with a variety of therapists who see almost my entire class… taking care of and meeting the sensory needs of high-level support need kids on the spectrum, etc… but that’s just like babysitting right?

So I’m not a certified art therapist yet, but that doesn’t mean what I’m doing right now isn’t utterly crucial to the development of these children.

[nebulus-frd]

Jealous and protective Rowan and oblivious Aelin in a modern established relationship au

Hi!!!

Thank u so much for the request. I loved your prompt and also love Rowaelin deeply. Hope u enjoy it ♡

If you liked it or not, let me know. Leave a comment, compliments and especially, constructive critics, are always welcomed.

Wanna request your story? Come ⋆⭒ here ⋆⭒, tell me everything. ----------

The beach. The sea. Them.

Synopsis: Modern AU where Rowan and Aelin finally get a deserved vacation. But he isn't enjoying all the attention given to his wife during the first day of it.

Rated: T

Warnings: implied sexual content. If I forgot anything, let me know.

Words: 1700+ (oneshot).

1/1

It was their first time back at the beach after being married.

The life of a military couple was hectic, to say the least, but Rowan and Aelin were rather used to the chaos. This explained why Rowan found himself alone in bed on the first morning of their vacation. Although his wife had always been a late riser, he knew better than anyone how hard it was to break their routine and if he himself hadn’t take medicine to fall asleep, he wouldn’t probably have slept at all.

Not bothering to properly dress, Rowan moved to the kitchen only to find it empty. Did she go grocery shop? But to his surprise not only was the fridge completely packed, but three sandwiches also topple each other on a plate next to a note.

Good morning princess, did you sleep well? Not even a true love kiss was able to break from the evil medicine spell. I’m training on the beach. Join me… Or not, if you feel like sleeping throughout the entirety of our vacation.

Love,

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius.

Rowan didn’t even feel the smile that broke through him. God, I love her. Of course, she was training. His wife always called him a workaholic and a military freak, only to always prove herself one. The food was warm enough for her not to have left for too long. And in half an hour Rowan found himself heading to their hotel gym.

Where was Aelin?

He had circulated the gym area twice without success in the mission of joining his wife. Could she be at the beach? It wouldn’t be a surprise. Aelin loves the sea, the sunny weather, and the heat on her skin.

Eight years ago, if someone said to Rowan that there were people who loved those things, he would have straight-out laughed in their faces. He couldn’t anymore. He had learned to appreciate each of these unlike anyone else.

Rowan loved the smile Aelin would have while watching the sea, loved the glow her eyes would reflect under the sun’s light, loved the heat from Aelin’s heart.

His wife had changed each perspective he had in his life.

And while at the beach, once again he asked himself how the hell, he was deserving of the woman he married to?

Aelin was coming out of the sea, dressed in a swimsuit that covered a lot more of what he was used to seeing, looking like the sea god herself had descended in the mortal world to bestow her beauty upon mortals. Thus, Rowan was hindered breathless and as soon as their eyes locked up, he could listen to her thoughts through them.

“Are you delight with the view?”

And the smile that broke in her lips made his knees go weak. She pointed to a small pile of clothes at his right and he could recognize the tennis beside it. As soon as they met Rowan girdled his arm around her hips and kissed her.

“Missed me much?” Aelin asked holding a smirk while still in his arms. Her turquoise eyes nailed on his green-forest ones. The only answer she received was a grunt and a heavy head dropping in her shoulder. “You know you could use words, rather than growling like a beast”, which made Aelin feel the smile coming from her husband, she could picture it too: the perfect set of teeth accompanied by two fangs that were borderline not-human, which had left so many marks on last night's activities, she had almost come to the beach in a diver suit.

“I can’t be bothered. There are a lot of more interesting things to do with my mouth… And my tong…”, Rowan’s impure statement was interrupted by the sound of Aelin’s phone ring, it took a moment for the woman to snap out of the mood her husband had put them in. Poor object, it earned a glare that, if possible, would have transformed it into ashes.

“Oh hi!... Yes, of course, I’m coming… Right, next to the bar… Yes, be there in a few”, she said on the phone friendly. With whom she could have made prior appointments?

“Where are you going?”, Rowan asked confused, involuntarily holding her tighter, Aelin didn’t hide the smile at her husband's unwillingness.

“WE are going to a functional training, apparently the hotel holds them every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday”, she said while putting on a pair of shorts and her tennis, Rowan just nodded in answer.

Once they were in the central area, the closer location between the hotel’s pools and the beach, the equipment could already be seen as well as 10 people roaming around it. Soon enough a man came up to them greeting Aelin, too friendly to Rowan’s likeness, although he could only spot the top of his head.

“Miss Galathnyius, it’s good to have you with us today”, the strange said while avoiding looking at Rowan’s side but he did not miss a beat.

“It’s Mrs.” his accented and low voice seemed to reverberate, earning him an alarmed glance from the instructor, as he had taken from his clothes and name tag.

“Yes, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Galathnyius it’s a pleasure to have both of you here”, the smaller man seemed ready to bolt as he alternated his looks from Rowan’s face tattoo and Aelin’s mirth-filled eyes, she just nodded and that was very well what he did. She knew it wasn’t jealousy from her husband, more like his inability to not correct a mistaken person.

Oh, how wrong she was.

…

Half an hour throughout the class, Rowan was calculating how much trouble would he be if he were to beat three civilians. As the training was open to anyone at the beach, around fifteen more people had come to enjoy the activities. Including a group of four men, who seem too inclined to help Aelin with her training.

Which had made Rowan seeing red since he heard the first suggestion in correcting Aelin’s posture during a core exercise. Whilst his wife seemed completed oblivious as not only agreed to a few suggestions and gave tips of her own. Rowan didn’t mind that both were right.

Nonetheless, at each suggestion made by a stranger, Rowan would casually assert his territory. Moving closer to Aelin, helping her with the weights and holding her during an exercise that required it. Of course, there was the possibility that none of the people participating held any second intentions towards his wife and were only trying to be helpful. He seriously doubted it, even though that was what Aelin seem to think.

Usually, Rowan had never been one to bluntly be jealous and if he found it necessary to discuss attitude with someone, he wouldn’t do it in front of Aelin. But he’d gone apeshit when one of the guys from before made a move to touch her while he went to grab for water. Fuck this. He had been by her side every single moment. What’s with these disrespectful motherfuckers?

The man whose hands extended to help Aelin in moving the piece on her waist only caught a movement in corner of his eyes before a mountain of a man was before him. His eyes caught a glimpse of a wicked tattoo on the man’s face, which had been hidden by the cap he was using.

Rowan’s intimidating demeanor and the fucking gold ring in his and hers left hands were more than enough for assholes to grasp the situation.

She is mine, I’m hers. Fuck off.

Either it was the rings or himself didn’t matter. Apparently, with one look everybody understood his warning.

…

However, nine hours later, he’d been left baffled as his wife complained how, after he glued himself to her side, nobody had talked or interacted with her anymore.

“Well, if you weren’t such a territorial bastard today, we could have made some friends that could introduce us to the town”, she said as they had clearly lost themselves while looking for a Japanese restaurant.

“I beg your pardon?”, Rowan answered seeing red all over again just from remembering the previous event.

“Oh, come on, you thought I did notice? You were just asserting your territory for the heck of it”, she said not bothering with more than an eye roll, still searching the street’s name on their map.

“For the heck of it?”, Rowan was bewildered. Aelin thought he was doing that out of leisure?

“You couldn’t possibly be jealous of those guys from the beach, right?”, she said finally dropping the stupid map that had put them in their current predicament and looking straight into his eyes. Whatever she saw there gave Rowan his favorite smile. “You were….”, she laughed, loud and uncaring. Beautiful. “You are unbelievable”.

Like the viper his wife was, she stealthy approached him in that dark alley. “My cranky husband was jealous of some gym dudes?”, her voice was surrounded by arrogance and seductiveness. Reminding Rowan just who he had married with. The most confident, assertive, dazzling woman he had ever met.

Their eyes were locked on each other as she stalked him like a snake ready to consume her prey. His response to her provocation was nothing more than a grunt. “You know what you should have done?... You could have kissed me right there, ravished me, really… And I would’ve said thank you”.

After many years into their relationship, one would think that Rowan had become numb to Aelin’s advances. However, it was very much the opposite of it. He would be scandalized, shocked… And excited, she burned him with bold words and even bolder actions that made his head spin. His calloused hand didn’t miss one second into holding Aelin’s by her backside and his mouth went to her neck.

“Ditch dinner, Fireheart, I will show you what I would like to have done”, Rowan could feel Aelin’s thundering heartbeat, like his own due to their proximity. It would never lie to him, he affected her just as she did him.

“Oh, why, when you say with such gentleness. I suppose we could make something at home”, she smoothed her hand at Rowan’s ringed finger each word, handing him a bright smile by the end. “I love you”, albeit the sentence was said in a soft tone, it swept bothering feelings between the two, such as sea waves that accompanied their evening.

“To whatever end”, he said holding her left hand and as they walked toward the ocean. Free, unrestricted, and vast. Much like their love.

[hacash]

ted lasso thoughts 2x08

hey, remember when everyone was worried that Ted Lasso Season 2 had too much fluff and not enough conflict? huh? everyone remember that?

everyone remember when we watched this because it was light and hopeful enough to get us through lockdown?

remember last episode when we thought all the dark forest would be about nate’s downward spiral and thought nothing else heavy could happen?

hell, remember when we first saw jamie tartt and thought there was no way we could sympathise with him as a character?

I’m not going to lie, the dark forest is dark and it is scary, but even in the midst of the trees there’s flickers of light. jamie’s entire storyline in this ep was building scene by scene - we could feel the tension growing, from that first screenshot of his phone saying “Dad” (not Dad, “Dad”, I mean fuck this show) right up to the moment when Tartt Senior bursts into the changing room. If Phil Dunster doesn’t get an Emmy nomination next year he will have been absolutely robbed - and then to put the icing on the cake, having Roy be the one to step up and hold him through the pain. I mean, damn.

A little underrated scene was Jamie and Higgins chatting: there’s no way in hell Jamie would have taken the time to so much as pass Higgins a word one season ago, let alone ask if he wanted the door to his closet-office closed. I particularly appreciated Higgins’ chat about his own father - it wasn’t straight-up ‘screw your dad if he’s a bad dad’, but neither was it a ‘you should always be there for your family no matter what’ message that children of abusive parents often get from well-meaning but ignorant bystanders, once again showing that Higgins picks up on more than not. Personally I’m waiting for Jamie to be invited around to the Higginses for Sunday lunch.

The shock on the entire Richmond team’s face through that scene. Oh man.

I never thought they’d have the audacity to kill off Sharon before the credits but whoa that still had me yelling at my screen while the theme song was still playing. I love how we’re seeing more of her as a character, not just a therapist. (And hearing her voicemails to Ted were something else.)

Ted. Oh Ted. I think a lot of us knew it was coming but still, that line hit more heavily than anything else in the episode. The bluntness of it coming out of nowhere - the fact that Ted is unsure whether or not that was what gave him his issues - the fact that we’re still scratching the surface... *weeps in football*

The Diamond Dogs exchanging vulnerabilities was such a precious moment. I’ve seen some say that they thought Nate’s expression was one of disgust at Ted’s revelation, and some that they thought it was relief at not being the only one struggling with mental health issues. For myself, I read it as shock - Nate’s always seen Ted on a pedestal, and the idea that your idol can suffer from the same weaknesses as you...well, that’s always a heavy moment. (Whatever it was, I’m sure it’ll come back to bite us in time.)

SAM ‘N REBECCA. It’s a testament to the two actors that even though everything in me feels iffy and odd and that this ain’t a good thing, their chemistry and acting is so good that you end up thinking ‘oh man, I wish this was workable for them’. Rebecca knows it’s not going to work, but comes up against Sam’s irrepressible youthful charm and hope, and after everything she’s been through...suddenly it’s so easy to understand why she’s sailing so close to the wind. But it’s almost definite that this ain’t gonna work out, and all we can do is hope like hell it ends as well as possible.

Seriously, look me in eye and tell me that if Toheeb Jimoh came up to you looking like he did all through that episode and asked to have dinner that you’d say no. I dare you.

Is Roy’s sister the doctor from the ER???? I really hope she is.

Roy taking on board everything he learned about being a good role model for Phoebe and comforting Jamie is just...just... *flails*

There wasn’t much to laugh at in this episode but my boy Colin never lets me down. That dumbbell scene had me cackling. Seriously, someone protect him. (I particularly loved the fact that we have Overprotective Boyfriend Isaac lambasting him for letting Colin nearly choke to death and then thirty seconds later does the exact same thing.)

THE HAIRCUTTING SCENE. There are no words other than cinematic masterpiece. I remember thinking at the beginning of this season that I wanted more for Isaac to do and to see him coming into his own as Captain and holy hell did I get my wish. Watching all the boys hoot and applaud and gush over Isaac’s effortless mastery of the clippers was the purest form of ‘boys will be boys’ I have ever seen or will ever see. (Until the next Richmond Himbos scene, ofc.)

And as a nice touch, watching Will take part and be included (holding the clippers’ tray ‘like a squire to a knight’) was lovely, particularly given the last episode.

The football match itself - it says a lot that this wasn’t even the focus, only as a tool to make our hearts break even more for Richmond FC - was hard to watch, particularly because it really felt like we were meant to feel like they just weren’t playing well? and I don’t quite understand why - I’ve already written about how Nate kinda had a point in this episode, that Roy and Ted dashing off for emergencies without telling anyone what they were is weird under any circumstance (let alone before such an important match) and possibly is a sign that while the team themselves are stronger than ever, everything is not quite well with the coaches of Richmond.

(seriously: ‘Sharon’s in the hospital and I’m going to make sure she’s ok’ ‘My niece has an emergency at school.’ Would that have been so hard? From a show that prioritises communication?)

And I really didn’t understand that little moment of Beard letting Nate - a junior coach, before a really important match - lead training. That, coupled with Beard being focused on as struggling to take the result, really intrigues me. It could be nothing, but so often this show drops little nuggets leading up to a big reveal, and the fact that the next episode looks to be Beard centric has me very interested, and more than a little anxious. As I am leading up to every episode of Ted Lasso these days, I suppose.

[eliemo]

Something Long and Stupid

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

TWs: Violence, threats, strong language, blood

Notes: Superhero au, Spiderman Virgil, Deadpool Remus, enemies to lovers Dukexiety

New project that nobody asked for. I know I should finish my ongoing wips before starting a new one but I do not control the hyperfixation.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

When Virgil kicked Remus in the chest and sent him hurtling off the building into an active construction site, Remus found himself thinking about how they’d met.

Honestly, it hadn’t started off much better. Spiderman was a piece of shit who thought he was so much better than Remus just because Deadpool killed some people every now and then.

Well, that had been the first impression anyway. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot.

Remus had been doing his job, thank you very much, he was a mercenary for hire, it wasn’t like he’d been going after a gang of strangers for fun. And he certainly hadn’t needed help.

There were three of them and one of him, just some standard thugs that had been causing a bit too much trouble for people with more money to spend, their names already set to pay for Remus’s rent this month.

He’d unsheathed his swords, (guns would make it over too quickly, and what was the fun in that?) letting the assholes get their hopes up by grabbing for their own weapons and then—

Then all his targets were all suddenly covered in webs, firmly plastered to the nearest wall with threats and screaming that Remus ignored in favor of whirling around, slicing the air with his blades.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

Spiderman was half hanging off the wall, stepping back down onto the ground when he saw Remus staring. “You’re welcome,” he called, like Remus had asked for him to come in ruin is fun.

Remus scoffed, because rude. You don’t just steal someone’s kill like that. But at least they were immobilized now, which meant shooting them and getting the day over with would be a piece of cake. The webs weren’t budging no matter how frantically they kicked.

He yanked his gun from his belt to do exactly that, only to have another web (seriously, fucking spider webs had no business being this strong) wrapped around his wrist, another pulling the pistol right out of his hand.

“Uh, motherfucker?” Remus took a step back, furiously grabbing at the lingering webs with his bare hands, grimacing at the way it clung to his leather. “Jeez, you want me to decapitate them instead?”

“They’re already down,” the asshole said, like Remus hadn’t noticed. “Back off, Deadpool.”

Remus didn’t have time to be surprised that Spiderman knew who he was, far too busy wanting to run over and punch him right in his stupid masked face. “Ok, clearly you don’t know my deal. Move it, Webs.”

“Then you don’t know mine,” he said, masked eye staring blankly from underneath the hood over his suit. “I’m not letting you murder defenseless people.”

“They’re not fucking defenseless.”

“They’re not breaking free,” the spider said. “The cops will take whoever I capture for them. Call them and leave.”

Remus scoffed and tightened his hold on his sword, wondering if he really wanted to get into a fight with Spiderman in the middle of the afternoon. It was only fucking Tuesday, he was too tired to deal with this shit. “And they can take them in body bags. Give me my gun back.”

Remus was a good foot taller than him, and loaded with about three times as many weapons, but the masked asshole didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. God, he was probably smirking under his suit.

“I finished the fight, I get to decide.” He turned around, his back to Remus like he didn’t even care. “Maybe try to be faster next time.”

“Oh, fuck right off with that,” Remus snarled. “Fuck off. Fuck off and suck a fat dick, you fucking—”

“Either you walk away, or I leave you tied to the wall.”

“Kinky,” Remus smirked, even if Spiderman couldn’t see it under his own mask. “But fat fucking luck. No way in hell am I letting some bitch in black and purple spanx steal my kill.”

Spiderman actually had the audacity to sigh, like he was dealing with a petulant child. “Nobody’s getting killed.”

“You know, I’ve got more than one gun,” Remus said, mentally calculating how fast he’d have to move to shoot every single person in this alleyway. “I’m playing nice. Get out of my way.”

“You’re not shooting someone who can’t fight back.”

“Oh, are you the moral police?” Jesus, Remus wanted to punch this guy. “Man, fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed for his other gun, only to immediately feel something wrap around his waist and legs, yanking hard and lifting him into the air. He shouted something he really hoped no pedestrians were close by enough to overhear, doing his absolute best to give Spiderman his coldest glare as he was slammed against the brick wall, upside down, held firmly down by fucking spider webs.

“Oh, you bitch.”

Remus twisted and thrashed, and while he could feel the webs giving way already it would be a good few minutes until he was free. That fucking asshole.

“Next time I see you I’m cutting off your spider ass and hanging it on my fucking wall!”

Spiderman ignored him, and Remus watched as he grabbed the thugs Remus was supposed to kill and one by one swung them out of the alleyway before disappearing completely.

That whore.

It hadn’t been long, unfortunately, until they’d met again, and Remus had of course tried to punch the asshole right in the head.

They’d ended up on the same rooftop, which was even worse because Remus came up here to relax. Spiderman had just been sitting there, legs dangling over the edge as he watched over the city, looking almost peaceful with his hood down and the sun beating against his mask.

So Remus had immediately vaulted over and swung at him as hard as he possibly could.

And then he’d missed, because of course Spidey had to have fucking inhuman reflexes, which was bullshit. He’d ducked away and managed to jump to Remus’s side before Remus even registered that his fist had met nothing but air.

“Can you leave?” Spiderman asked, so unbothered it only made Remus angrier. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people don’t get killed,” he said, moving back towards the ledge. “You should try it sometime.”

Remus crossed his arms, watching the vigilante in disbelief. “You get that I’m a mercenary, right? You’re surprised by the killing thing?”

“I’m not,” he said, and he still wouldn’t even look at Remus. “But I’m stopping it when I can.”

“Oh? So you’re ruining a small business?” Remus threw his arms out and turned towards the ledge overlooking the bustling city. “Spiderman doesn’t support small businesses, you heard it here first, folks!”

Spidey was staring at him now, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he would not appreciate the look he was being given if the mask was taken off. Asshole.

“I don’t support killing people, Deadpool.”

“Sucks,” Remus said. “You should’ve stayed out of the way. If I wasn’t so kind and generous I would have shot you.”

“You mean if you hadn’t been tied up and defenseless,” Spiderman corrected, and Remus was right back to wanting to punch him. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you arrested.”

Remus dramatically put a hand to his chest and gasped, walking along the roof’s edge. “Oh no. What ever would I have done? I’d be defeated! My one weakness. C ops.”

Spidey didn’t respond, but he did get up and move away when Remus got a bit too close to where he was perched on the ledge. Ha .

“Maybe I should have called the cops on you, Spidey,” Remus added. “They’d finally catch the masked menace. Some jail time might humble you.”

“I’d be fine,” Spiderman said. “I wasn’t the one tied to a wall.”

Remus hopped back onto the roof with a growl, grimacing at the reminder of how long it had taken to get those webs off his suit. “Yeah, don’t do that shit again. Seriously, I can and will end you.”

“Get in line behind half the city, Deadpool.”

Remus scoffed, something he apparently did a lot of whenever talking to Spiderman, and followed him across the rooftop. “Man, your ratings are shit. At least I don't act like a hero.”

It was hard to see, barely noticeable, but Remus saw Spidey’s shoulders tense, just a bit. Apparently he’d struck a nerve. Good.

“I don’t act like anything,” he said, and it was just a little less cocky than before. “I’m just trying to help people.”

“Oh, so you’re playing hero.” Remus grinned, moving until he was crouched right in front of the vigilante. “Ooh ooh, let me guess...you’re in college. You’re ...22. Maybe 23, or 24. You got these big bad powers one day and figured you were the only one in the whole wide world who could protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

Spidey didn’t answer, just looked at him with that blank, unamused stare, so Remus continued. “Or were you born with them? Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve only popped up in the last two or three years—”

“It’s none of your business,” Spiderman cut in, and Remus smirked. “And you’re wrong, for the record.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Remus asked, amused despite himself. “If nobody wants you, why are you even trying?”

Spidey was tense now, and doing a real bad job of hiding it. “Maybe I don’t give a shit what people think.”

“Right.” Remus didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know that wasn’t it. “You do realize how much money you could make with those powers, right?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”

Remus looked him over, he’d seen spidey all over newspapers and on TV before, but this was the first time actually talking to him in person, besides the other day when the asshole had ruined his afternoon. Honestly, it was kinda underwhelming. He expected the suit to be higher tech, at least.

“Are you broke?” he asked. “You seem broke. I could make you a way better mask, by the way. It looks like shit.”

“I’m sure,” Spidey said, completely ignoring his generous offer. Rude. “And how much do you get paid for killing people?”

“A lot.”

Spiderman hummed nonchalantly, no longer looking at Remus. “Well, I’m glad it’s worth it.”

“It is! I sleep like a baby in my king sized bed.” And yeah, that was a little bit of a lie. Barely.. He wasn’t living that luxuriously, New York was expensive as shit, but based on his tech he was way better off than Webs.

“That’s wonderful,” Spiderman said and damn, apparently the masked menace was capable of being a sarcastic bastard as well as a cocky asshole. “You done pretending now? Can I go?”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

“Yeah, ok.” Spiderman was back to sounding arrogant, and Remus couldn’t remember why they were talking instead of fighting to the death. “I know you sleep like shit.”

Remus actually laughed, humorless and cold, because what the fuck?

“Oh yeah?”

“Nobody kills for a living if their life is going great,” Spidey said. “What horrible trauma pushed you to that decision?”

Oh, this motherfucker. This piece of shit. He was so dead when Remus could catch him off guard.

“Nobody puts on a costume and fights crime when half the city wants him dead if his life is going great, either.” Remus smirked, moving to try to get Spidey to look at him again. “At least I get money for it. No student loan debt at 26 is pretty nice.”

He probably shouldn’t have given the vigilante that was quickly turning into his sworn enemy his age but eh. What was he gonna do, kill him? Remus didn’t stay dead.

“That’s great,” Spiderman said. “And all it cost was people’s lives.”

“Yep!” Remus hoped it came out cheery enough to piss him off a little more. “Think of it this way, Spidey. They’re gonna die anyway.”

Spiderman immediately straightened up and stalked to the other end of the rooftop, clearly wanting the conversation to end. Mission accomplished. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s true!” he called, just to drive home the fuck off a bit more. “Someone would have gotten to them eventually.”

“They’re still people, Deadpool.”

Remus shrugged. “Good people don't get hits put on them.”

“Maybe not,” the vigilante agreed. “But good people don’t murder in exchange for money, either.”

Remus barked another laugh at that, more genuine this time because... yeah? Duh. “No shit. I never fucking said I was a good person.”

“You’re lucky you haven't killed anyone innocent yet.” And goddammit there was that ‘hero’ shit again that made Remus want to throw up. He’d just been starting to have fun, too.

“It’s still not your business.”

“It will be,” Spidey said, perched on the ledge in a way that would make Remus dizzy if he cared. “Stick to killing criminals and we'll be fine.”

“Oh?” Remus followed, smirking in a way that would probably get him punched if he took off his mask. “Are you gonna come get me if I’m not good?”

“That’s my job.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Remus teased. “I’ll wear something sexy for you.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Spider Babe!”

Spidey scoffed, responding with a gloved middle finger when Remus winked. Remus watched a web shoot from his wrist, and suddenly Spiderman was gone, swinging across New York rooftops, leaving Remus to try to figure out how he was getting down.

Remus honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. He was fucked in the head, but he didn’t have any plans to lose control and start killing everyone in sight. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a villain Spiderman needed to spend time tracking down. New York was busy enough for both of them already.

He did plan on chucking the nearest heavy object at him if he ever saw Spidey swinging past. That never ended up happening. Not that he cared. He didn’t miss him.

He expected to catch a glimpse of him eventually, maybe close enough to yell a few lighthearted threats or call him names, but nothing as entertaining as the argument on the roof.

What he hadn’t expected, was to run right into the masked menace while walking home in the middle of the night.

Remus had just finished a job, something standard and quick, and after wiping the blood from his blades he’d decided to take the long way home. The sun had set, the night air was crisp and relaxing, and it helped Remus forget about the blood stains he needed to wash away.

He’d been cutting through sidestreets, mentally mapping out how to get back to his place. He turned a corner into an alleyway, and—

And there was Spiderman, hunched over himself and leaned against the wall like he’d been using it for support, shaking, gasping, and completely drenched in deep red blood.

Remus froze, and Spidey did too as soon as he registered Deadpool standing just a few paces away, the two of them staring silently for what felt like an eternity.

“Dude,” Remus said when he found his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Spiderman was clutching at his chest, black and purple suit barely able to hide the red stains, leaned heavily against the brick wall as he watched Remus warily. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be stupid. Whose blood is that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, and his voice was wavering. “Keep walking.”

Remus took a step forward, frowning at the way the vigilante went tense against the wall. He ignored it. “Whose blood is it?” It came out more of a command than a question this time.

“Mostly mine,” Spiderman said, and Remus could see it pooling around his gloves now that he was closer. “It’s fine.”

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“None of your business. Go home.”

Remus tried to get a better look from where he stood, well aware that approaching might not be the best idea right now. “Was it a gun or a knife?”

“It was none of your business and you need to go away.”

Remus watched him, incredulous, because the idiot was barely standing and losing way too much blood way too quickly, and he was pretty sure Spiderman didn’t have Remus’s whole immortality deal.

“You really want to bleed out on the street like some street thug?”

The vigilante hesitated, and Remus listened to the way his breathing was turning into awful sounding wheezes. “I’m...not going to bleed out. I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus challenged, probably a bit more aggressively than was needed for someone who looked like they were about to keel over. “Walk over to me then.”

He’d expected the lack of response, but even though the eyes built into the suit were practically lifeless (he really should get him some more advanced goggles. He’d be a lot more approachable if his eyes weren’t so blank) Remus could still see his whole body tense in fear.

“No,” he said, low and trembling. “Fuck off.”

“Spidey, this isn’t a joke.” Jesus, that was a lot of blood. “You’re gonna bleed out.”

“And you can throw a party—”

“Fucking come here.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he wasn’t going to just stand here bickering with the city’s hero until he dropped dead. But Spidey still shook his head, pressed even further against the wall now, and Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Remus took a few steps forward, initially planning on prying his arms away to get a better look at the wound, but Spiderman flinched back, trying to scramble away like Remus was coming at him with a weapon.

Well, Remus supposed that made sense. He had threatened to kill him a couple times last time they spoke.

“Chill it, Spidey.” Remus crouched a bit, suddenly painfully aware of how much taller he was, carefully holding his hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shot back. Which...yeah, fair. “I know you want to.”

“Does it look like I have a knife in my hand?” Remus asked. “No. Chill out and let me see.”

Spidey didn’t pull away when Remus took his shoulders, but he did flinch as soon as Deadpool touched him, probably involuntarily. Remus ignored it, focusing instead on figuring out where the blood was coming from. It was almost impossible in the dark lighting, especially up against the black suit.

“It’s...not that bad,” Spiderman rasped. “Seriously.”

Remus wasn’t buying that for a second. “What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened,” Spidey said, arms still wrapped firmly around himself. “It...there were five of them and one of them got lucky with a knife.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Remus pulled back, trying to figure out what to do. “You are stupid. Where?”

He only hesitated a moment. “Uh, my chest. I heal fast.”

“Jesus. How fast?”

Spiderman shrugged, then obviously regretted it when it pulled at the stab wound. “Hopefully fast enough,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow or I’ll be dead.”

“Jesus,” Remus said again, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? “Sit down. Jesus Christ.”

Spidey thankfully did as he said, though Remus suspected it had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore rather than actually following instructions.

He wasn’t fighting anymore, almost limp as Remus took his wrists and moved them to his sides, but he did look like he was ready to bolt the second Deadpool made one wrong move.

Like he wouldn’t fall right on his face and hurt himself worse if he tried.

Remus could see the source of the blood now, a deep gash across his upper chest that had apparently sliced the black and purple suit like butter, still gushing crimson with each passing second.

Shit.

“Alright, uh.” This wasn’t his expertise in the slightest. Other than digging out some bullets, Remus didn't have to tend to his wounds. “I don’t think I have any fabric or...oh, your hoodie. Hand it over.”

Spiderman stared, and if he didn’t hurry up and get with the program Remus was going to knock him out and handle this himself. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding out. Give it.”

Spidey at least had the sense to listen and carefully peel the hoodie away from his suit, sliding it down his arms even as his gloved hands shook violently. Remus couldn’t help but wince at the noise Spiderman tried to choke back, because that had to hurt like a bitch.

“Maybe, like...lay down?” Remus suggested. “Yeah, do that. It’ll help.”

Spidey still hesitated, even as the blood continued to flow and he started to slide down against his will. “I...need to see what you’re doing.”

Remus sighed, bunching up the hoodie and pressing it firmly against the wound, ignoring the strangled gasp that came from the vigilante. Blood was quickly soaking through the cloth, and Remus just pressed harder.

“I’m just putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” Remus said. “If I wanted to kill you I’d leave you here. If it stops bleeding you’ll heal, right?”

The only answer he got was another wet, trembling gasp when Remus pushed harder, Spiderman’s blood soaking into his gloves. It took a second for him to realize he was grasping at Remus’s wrists, his hold weak.

“H-hopefully,” Spidey managed, and he really didn’t sound great. His eyes were drooping, and Remus figured the biggest danger right now was letting him fall asleep. “Or, you know. I’ll die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Remus said without thinking. “I’m gonna stop the bleeding, you’re gonna heal with whatever weird powers you have, and then you’ll be less of a careless idiot next time.”

A few moments passed without an answer, and for once Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to fill the silence. The only sound between them was Spiderman’s labored, ragged breathing, which at least sounded a bit less shaky and faint as Remus continued to press down.

“What are you doing?” Spidey asked eventually, catching Remus completely off guard with the stupid question. “Why are you...trying to help?”

Remus wasn’t trying to do anything. He was helping. The city’s beloved hero would have been dead five minutes ago if he hadn’t managed to interrupt Remus’s perfectly nice, peaceful walk.

He hadn’t even really thought about it. Remus was an asshole, a murderer for a living, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the guy who was going to leave New York’s savior to bleed out in an alleyway.

Besides, he’d been the first person Remus had been able to have a somewhat entertaining conversation with in months.

“Somebody’s gotta save everyone,” he eventually settled on, still pressing hard against the wound. “And I refuse to be the city’s only mouthy vigilante.”

Another beat of silence, and for a moment Remus thought he might have fallen asleep. “I don’t...save anyone. And I’m not mouthy.”

“You do,” Remus argued. “And you are.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, and at least he didn’t seem inclined to argue about the mouthy thing. “You do your job better than I do.”

Remus took a moment to look over the bleeding hero. He was weak and trembling, and probably dangerously pale and clammy under that suit. The blood flow had definitely slowed, but it hadn't stopped. There was a good chance he wouldn’t remember a damn thing Remus said to him tonight.

And if he did, it’s not like he really gave a shit, anyway.

“I’m a mercenary,” Remus said. “Anyone can kill someone. It takes something a lot stronger to save them. So shut up and stop being self deprecating.”

Spiderman shuddered when Remus carefully peeled back the bloody hoodie, leaning in to get a better look at where they were at. Either he was just that good at fixing stab wounds, or Spidey’s healing powers were gradually starting to kick in.

Remus decided to go with the former. He deserved it.

“I got someone killed tonight,” Spidey said, quiet and unbearably sad. “She...she died because I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t—”

“You can’t save everyone.”

The vigilante pulled his hands away from Remus’s wrists, like he’d just realized he was holding them. “I should have tried harder.”

Remus sighed. “You tried hard enough. You did fine.”

That was apparently the end of the conversation, Spiderman falling back into silence as Remus went back to making sure he didn’t start bleeding all over the place again. He didn’t have anything on him to properly clean it up, he wasn’t sure he even owned a first-aid kit, but Spidey’s breathing was starting to even out, and after about ten minutes or so the blood stopped flowing completely.

“You, uh...you good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Spiderman said, and it didn’t sound like a desperate lie this time. He still looked like shit, but he was able to slowly sit up on his own. “Not dying this time. Just...still hurts.”

They were plunged back into silence, slightly less tense than before but no less uncomfortable. Remus eventually relinquished his hold on the hoodie when Spidey was able to carefully take it from him.

Right, he was fine now. Remus didn’t need to stay, it wasn’t his business anymore. It hadn’t been his business to begin with.

“I...owe you,” Spiderman said, almost like it was strange for him to admit. “So, thank y—”

“Don’t thank me, Spidey.” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? “Seriously. Just buy me a pizza sometime and we’ll call it square.”

Spiderman stared for second, unsteady hands holding his own hood to his chest, but the small laugh that escaped at least sounded genuine, and no longer quite so pained.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Remus hesitated before standing, not really sure if it would be more rude to leave or stay at this point. Spiderman probably didn’t want a mercenary for hire standing over him while he was wounded, whether Remus had saved his life or not.

Remus was still just as far from a hero as the villains Spiderman fought, and both of them had a reputation to keep.

“You sure you’re ok?” Remus asked. “I can like...stay. Or call you an ambulance or...something.”

“I’m good,” Spidey said, sitting up with a small hiss of pain until he was propped up against the wall, breathing still heavy. “You stopped the bleeding, I’ll live. You can go home, Deadpool.”

“Right.” He carefully stepped around the vigilante, still keeping a close eye on his chest to make sure the bleeding didn’t start again. “Just don’t die after all my hard work. My gloves are fucking soaked.”

Spiderman scoffed, but it was more good natured and light than it had been the last time they talked. “You got it.”

Remus kept walking down the alley, only turning around once more before turning the corner at the end. “And don’t forget my pizza, Spidey!”

[btsqualityy]

Assuage: Chapter 6

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers

Warnings: None to note.

After word spread around the pack that Yoongi saved Chan, he noticed just the slightest difference in how the members of the pack treated him. They had always been nice to him, but it was as if everyone was going out of their way now.

Whereas people would see him around and say hello before continuing on their way, they now stopped and attempted to make conversation with him. When people stopped into the hardware shop, they always asked Yoongi how he liked working with Kibum and if he would design something special for them. There were even elders who offered to let him eat before them if he chose to eat in the dining hall (which he immediately said no to because he wasn’t about to touch that topic again with a 10 foot pole).

Yoongi wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of it, given the fact that people in his previous pack didn’t just talk to each other for the fun of it so he wasn’t used to the pleasantries. 

“Oh look, there’s our local celebrity now,” Taehyung smiled as Yoongi walked up the front steps to the dining hall, where Taehyung and Jin were waiting on him to join them for lunch. 

“Please go to hell,” Yoongi grumbled as he rolled his eyes. 

“I have to say Yoongi-yah, I’ve never seen the pack go this crazy over someone since, well ever,” Jin laughed. “You’ve been quite the hot topic with the unmated Omegas.”

“I don’t understand why,” Yoongi shrugged, leading the way into the dining hall with Taehyung and Jin following behind him. “I just did what was right.”

“Things like that go a long way in our pack, as you can see,” Jin chuckled. Seeing that the pups and elders were already eating, the three of them moved right to the buffet line, grabbing their plates and filling them up as much as they wanted. Once they were done, they didn’t even have a chance to take a scope of the room before Hyorin’s voice was calling out for them.

“Over here!” She shouted and the three of them made their way over to her table, where you were also sitting.

“Hey,” Yoongi greeted you both, and you gave him a soft smile.

“I see our newest eligible bachelor made time to eat with us,” Hyorin joked, making Yoongi roll his eyes.

“Not you too,” he groaned. 

“Listen, the pack hasn’t buzzed like this since Jimin presented as an Omega and had every unmated Alpha losing their damn mind,” Hyorin smiled. “Please, allow me this small enjoyment of seeing the Omegas around here lose their shit.”

“I’d rather they not,” Yoongi grimaced. “Oh, by the way, your crib is almost ready.”

“Aw, yay!” Hyorin grinned while clapping her hands together. 

“That was quick,” you noted. “It’s only been two weeks.”

“Well, I’m actually the one who designed it and I liked it so much, I wanted to get started on it right away,” Yoongi explained sheepishly.

“I’m sure it’s great Yoongi-yah,” Jin spoke up, taking his first break from eating since they had sat down. 

“Nothing but the best for the firstborn pup of the Pack Alpha and Omega,” Taehyung added with a smile. 

“Absolutely,” you nodded, which made Yoongi smile to himself as he began to eat his food. While all of them began to make small talk and talk about different things, Yoongi was surprised when he felt a sudden, soft tap on his shoulder. Turning his head to the right, he saw a woman standing there with a wide smile. 

“Hello,” she greeted him. “I’m Park Ji-hyo.”

“Min Yoongi,” he replied slowly.

“I know that we haven’t met before but I’m a seamstress,” she told him. “I help make clothing for the pack as well as doing small alterations, things like that. I also make the outfits for big occasions, like baby dedications and 100 day celebrations and mating ceremonies.”

“Well, you sound like an important part of the pack,” Yoongi said, not knowing what else to really say but he figured that that response was good enough because he could smell Ji-hyo’s scent (which smelt like Jasmine) sweeten just a little bit.

“Thank you Alpha,” she grinned. “I heard about what you did for little Chan, and I just wanted to say that it was really amazing of you to do. I mean, taking on a whole snake that was already ready to attack him!”

“It really was no big deal,” Yoongi shook his head. 

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” she nodded in agreement. “Not for a big, strong, Alpha like yourself.” Yoongi could hear snickering behind him and it took everything in him not to burst out laughing as well. 

“Well, I really came over here to offer you this,” Ji-hyo began, extending her hand to show Yoongi and sitting in her palm, was an earring. 

“It’s...very pretty,” Yoongi nodded. 

“I’m not sure if you’ve gotten other offers yet, but I’d like it if you’d consider me,” Ji-hyo explained. “I noticed that you wear earrings a lot so you could take mine and I could show you around pack territory sometime.” Yoongi was honestly at a loss for words, because it sounded very much like she was asking him to date her but he still wasn’t entirely sure how the whole “dating and mating” thing worked within this particular pack. 

Before he could even answer her though, a sudden rumble hit his ears. Turning back to face the table, Yoongi’s eyes widened when he realized that you were the one making the sound and it was a warning. 

“He’s not spoken for,” Ji-hyo spit as she looked at you.

“But you know good well that he’s probably not brushed up on the pack’s customs so you thought you’d slide in while he’s still unaware, right?” You shot back and Yoongi looked back at Ji-hyo, embarrassment now clear on her face.

“You already have every Alpha in this pack salivating over you, leave one for the rest of us,” Ji-hyo snapped.

“I’m not the reason that you can’t get an Alpha and if you took two seconds to look at yourself, then you’d realize that,” you smiled sarcastically.

“Alright,” Yoongi interrupted the two of you. “I’m flattered Ji-hyo, but I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”

“Oh. Ok, that’s more than fine,” she nodded with a smile, but Yoongi could tell that it was fake by the way that her scent had kind of soured. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your meal.” She then quickly turned around and sped walked away, and Yoongi couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty at turning her down.

“Wow Y/N-ah, possessive aren’t we?” Jin teased you and Yoongi turned to look at you again, just in time to see you roll your eyes.

“I just don’t like seeing people being taken advantage of,” you shrugged. “She knows that he’s new to the pack.”

“Which is why she pounced,” Taehyung added. 

“I still don’t understand all of this though,” Yoongi admitted. “Why is everyone all over me now?”

“If we’re putting it simply, Betas and Omegas love Alphas that are protective,” Hyorin replied. “Especially Alphas that are protective over pups.”

“And you saving a pup’s life only showcased that you’re protective over pups,” Jin said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“But isn’t everyone protective over pups though?” Yoongi wondered.

“Look hyung, in this pack, we date to mate,” Taehyung laughed. “Of course, feelings are important too but no Omega or Beta is going to even date, let alone mate with, someone that they don’t think will be able to provide for them or be able to take care of their future family, which includes pups.”

“So you literally showed that you have what’s arguably the number one quality that people around here are looking for in a mate,” you finished. 

“What the fuck?” Yoongi uttered in disbelief. 

“Ha, we broke him guys,” Jin cackled while Yoongi was still frozen, trying to figure out what hell he had brought down upon himself.

...................................

After they all finished lunch, Yoongi said goodbye to Taehyung and Jin, watching afterwards as they walked away to go back to their jobs, Taehyung as Namjoon’s secretary and Jin in the hair salon. Yoongi continued to stand on the front steps though, enjoying the feeling of sunshine on his skin.

“I hope you don’t mind what I did in there,” a sudden voice spoke up, making Yoongi jump slightly and when he turned his head, it was only you standing there.

“Jeez, announce yourself next time,” Yoongi grumbled, making you giggle as you walked over to stand next to him. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Prime Alpha,” you chuckled. “I didn’t think I’d scare you.”

“Well, you thought wrong obviously,” he huffed. “But to answer your question, no I don’t mind. I actually kind of appreciate it.”

“No problem. Ji-hyo tends to move dirty when it comes to her trying to find a mate so I figured I’d save you from that,” you said. 

“In that case, i really appreciate it then,” he chuckled, making you smile lightly. “So, that’s how it works here then? Giving gifts?”

“Yep,” you nodded. “You give a gift as a sign of intention, which is also supposed to signify your seriousness in attempting to build a relationship with that person.”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Does it happen to you a lot?”

“What?”

“Getting gifts,” he elaborated. “I heard what Ji-hyo said.”

“There’s a lot of attempts, but I very rarely ever take them,” you shook your head, a sly smirk coming onto your face afterwards. “Why, you jealous?”

“You wish,” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Just curious.”

“Well, curiosity killed the wolf, you know,” you replied thoughtfully before taking off down the steps and walking away from the dining hall.

“Wait, that’s not how that works!” Yoongi called out after you and you turned around, holding your hands up and shrugging animatedly with a smile before turning around and continuing to walk away. 

Yoongi found himself laughing and smiling at your gesture, his Alpha having the strangest urge to follow you just so he could see your smile again.

.........................

Tag List: @jikook-enthusiasts​

[thevindicativevordan]

How do you feel about the way New Krypton was resolved? To me it felt really callous. Like DC was just sweeping it all aside with the Kryptonians being genocided, and then the whole world moves on a week later.

Two words: Wasted potential.

This should have been Superman's Sinestro Corps War, his big event/storyline that completely rejuvenated his sales and brought in a ton of new readers. It had all the hallmarks of being the big shakeup that the Superman franchise desperately needed: it gave Superman a big conflict that allowed him to punch stuff while also not being something he could solve solely by punching, it centered all of his big villains and gave them the revamps they needed (particularly Zod as I'll get to later), it involved all the other members of the Superfamily (bar Conner who was dead at the time) and gave them stuff to do, it even brought in the Legion of Superheroes at one point! The setup was all there to do something great, to give Superman that big event storyline he hadn't had since Death of Superman (or President Luthor if you're feeling generous).

And DC completely fucked it up.

First you had Busiek and Johns, the guys who were doing the actual setup and who had been doing great work beforehand, both leave the books right as the event was kicking off. Busiek to go do Trinity and Johns to go prepare Blackest Night, both leaving their big event to be executed by new writers who had not been involved in the process of conceptualizing this event. Then you had Clark taken out of Superman and Action Comics, those titles given to Z-Listers, and Clark himself dropped into a brand new mini. No offense to those who like Mon-El but there was never a chance in hell of him sustaining his own book as the lead guy unless Johns was writing it. Then you hilariously had the first son of Clark and Lois, Chris Kent, aged up in a bizarre way and made a costumed hero himself with a romance to boot in a deeply unpopular move (funny how history repeats itself, although I like what's unfolding with Jon a lot more). So of course the sales tanked, and what happened next was inevitable.

DC panicked and hit the reset button so hard a planet exploded and everyone died, except for Kal, Kara, and Zod plus some of his loyalists.

God I was pissed because while the side books may have floundered, the main mini itself following Clark on New Krypton? That was really good in my opinion.

Clark was forced into an interesting position: a second chance at life with his people, at the cost of renouncing ties with his adopted homeworld. Can Kal-El find a way of keeping the peace between the two worlds, with the leadership on both ends preparing for war? That's an exciting and enticing premise or at least it was for me! I loved the storyline also because it took the usual cliche storyline of Superman losing his powers and flipped it: what if there was an entire new planet full of guys who were just as strong as he was? What makes Superman special then? And we got to see the answer: his brains and his experience.

It was cool seeing Clark kick ass, seeing him navigate the politics of the Guilds and Kryptonian society. There was so much worldbuilding going on at the same time, old Kryptonian animals and plants being recreated on New Krypton, the dissatisfaction within the Labor Guild, the military spoiling for a fight, Kal's internal struggles with everyone seeing Zod as a hero and him having to try to work quietly to change that, it was all really fun to read about for me. There were also those hints of long term plotlines being set up, such as those aliens from Saturn who were also super powered, and were letting the newcomers know they were keeping an eye on things. I seriously thought we were going to get a Solar War with every race in the Sol system fighting each other for dominance. And the Superman/Zod dynamic has never been better than it was in this storyline.

The two did not like each other, but there was a grudging respect being built up between the two. Kal was coming to appreciate that Zod genuinely cared about protecting the Kryptonians, and Zod was coming to respect Clark's skills and insights. Zod was sympathetic and understandable in his goals while also still being a ruthless son of a bitch, which is exactly how I prefer he be depicted.

In all honesty this was the first big Zod story I read and it shaped my perceptions of how he should be. You also had General Sam Lane on the other side, putting together Project 7734 to tackle the Kryptonians, drafting Lex Luthor, Metallo, and others to his side. Hell this was the last and as far as I know only story to pit the Big 3 of Lex, Brainiac, and Zod against one another, something I would dearly love to see tried again. All these major players working their own agendas simply isn't something you usually get in Superman books. Lex working to kill Superman and the other Kryptonians of course, but also out to steal knowledge from Brainiac and secure his freedom. Brainiac wanting to recapture the Kryptonians. Zod and Lane out to preemptively destroy one another, with Zod seeding Kryptonian sleeper agents back on Earth. Superman's Rogues got good showings as the dangerous threats they are in this story, I'll say that much.

All of it torched in the end alas. DC definitely wanted it all swept under the rug and forgotten. I liked the retcon of Grounded really being Superman suffering a massive case of PTSD which is why he was being an asshole under JMS, but I doubt that was the original intention. You're right, Clark having to experience the pain of losing his people as an adult, and Kara having to re-experience it along with the death of her mother, really should've gotten more focus. But they wanted it gone and done with.

You know what kills me? Not even a few years later they'd reboot the whole damn universe anyway, so what was the point of taking Superman back to his "status quo"? They should've just said fuck it and let the writers go wild in the final years before the New 52, let New Krypton play out as it was intended to, it was all going to get rebooted anyway. Of course New 52 was a rush job I understand, so they didn't know ahead of time what would happen, but I can't help but be bitter.

The potential New Krypton offered is one I would 100% love to see revisited, in an animated movie or in that upcoming My Adventures With Superman cartoon. The animated side keeps changing the stories as they adapt them anyway, and I would love to see the ending to New Krypton get changed. Give me the original Johns/Busiek plan for the event, or give me something else entirely, it can't be a bigger disappointment than what we ultimately got anyway.

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 5

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon except for a few random points mentioned this time. It’s mainly fluff, lemon zest 🍋 and a bit of angst. There’s also some Billy POV in there. The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: Some drinking & swearing.

(My GIF)

A grin curved his lips upwards, “How d’you like your eggs in the mornin’, ma’am?”

“Over easy,” you grinned back. He tapped his shoulder a couple of times with the kitchen spoon, “Ummm.. how about scrambled? And then I’ll give you the “over easy” version afterwards.”

That damn smirk of his, you thought, it’s downright dangerous.

The two of you were sitting at your kitchen island, eating breakfast. The scrambled eggs were really tasty, you complimented him. He’d preened a little, “I’m quite a good cook, sweetheart,” he said, “learned how to look after myself quite early on in life.”

Suddenly he put his fork down, and looked over at you. His face was serious, and you saw some sadness in his eyes. “My mother abandoned me when I was a really young kid. She was a junkie, and couldn’t look after herself never mind me, so I suppose I should thank her. I’d probably be dead otherwise. Got put in a group home, stayed there until I aged out and went straight into the Marines. And got my degree on the government’s dime.”

Your hand moved to cover his, “Billy, you’ve done so well, and you’ve achieved it all on your own. I’m proud of you, and I hope you’re proud of yourself too.” He beamed at you, eyes crinkling at the corners, “Yeah... yeah, I am. Thanks, angel, I appreciate you sayin’ that. I wanted to tell you about it, wanted to be honest with you. In case when you saw the suits, the car, the penthouse and all, you thought I was some kind of privileged trust fund kid.”

He looked down, “There’s a stigma about growin’ up in the system, y’know? I wanted to get it out on the table so you know who I really am and where I came from.”

“I don’t care about that, Billy.” He nodded, thumb stroking your hand which was still on top of his. “I really hoped that you wouldn’t ... but I wanted to be sure, and I’m really glad you feel like that. Also I needed you to know that I’m bein’ honest with you.”

You thought you saw a closed-off look on his face for a moment, but then it was gone and he smiled over at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You had spent the rest of Sunday together, lazing around, watching various shows on Netflix before venturing out for a late lunch to a local diner. Billy had eventually headed home after another steamy session in the bedroom, regretful about not spending the night, sighing that he had a really early start in the morning, a ‘job’ he couldn’t tell you anything about.

He’d explained a bit more about his work earlier in the day while you were eating in the diner. How a lot of it was classified as it was military or political in nature, so he couldn’t go into detail. You’d nodded, and said you understood. But you’d asked some questions nevertheless; how many of the assignments did he go on himself, just how dangerous they were, had he or his men ever been injured.

You got the impression that, although he couldn’t tell you much about who was involved or why they needed protection details, he was pleased you were showing an interest in his work.

The two of you agreed that you’d meet up during the week, Billy saying he’d text you to confirm when and where as he wasn’t sure how long this job would last, maybe at least a couple of days.

He’d insisted on putting his numbers into your phone himself, so you’d unlocked it and handed it to him, wandering back to your bedroom to put some more clothes on. Shortly afterwards he’d kissed you long and hard and made his way downstairs to his car, and you’d watched from your balcony as he drove away. Then you’d laughed at yourself - you were acting like some medieval damsel watching her knight disappear off to war or something.

Sliding the glass door closed, you went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of wine. The apartment suddenly felt very empty without Billy in it. How quickly you’d got used to him being there.

You wandered across to the sofa with your newly-poured glass of wine, noticing your phone on the coffee table. Oh yeah, Billy had added his numbers. A sudden twinge of insecurity hit you. What if he hadn’t actually put his direct numbers in there, and just pretended to? You sat down, looking at it lying there. I mean, it wasn’t like you couldn’t track him down at Anvil, but you would no doubt have to go through a receptionist and you could be endlessly stone-walled.

You eventually picked up the phone and unlocked it. Scrolling to your contacts, you suddenly burst out laughing. Billy had put his numbers in there and had also taken a selfie, him smouldering into the camera. He’d attached it to the contact details with a description.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy drove away from her apartment, truly wishing he could’ve stayed over again.

But then he’d shaken his head slightly, laughing to himself; she’d definitely got one thing right - he was a big sap. Since when did he find himself almost playing house with a woman? Telling her she was his girlfriend - as she’d put it - after five minutes? He was a one-and-done kinda guy!

But then Billy Russo admitted to himself that something had hit him smack in the heart when he’d first seen her, sitting there looking stunning and somehow fragile with that creep trying to come onto her. Well turns out she wasn’t fragile in the least! However when those beautiful eyes had met his... well, he was a goner. Solid gone. And then he’d pursued her like a lovestruck idiot.

He hadn’t ever seriously thought about love. Or believed in it, for that matter. Certainly not when he’d been bedding all those women when he’d been on leave or since he’d left the Marines. All that shit just wasn’t for him. And now? Yeah, not so sure.

Billy almost felt like he was under some kind of spell, it had hit him so quickly. Yeah, like she’d enchanted him or something ridiculous, straight out of a Disney or Harry Potter movie. Was this love, then? His stomach clenched every time he saw her, he just couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanted to be with her all the time, hell he was even jealous of Jake though he wasn’t a threat. Was he? No, surely not. And what about Steve, the other one? Yeah, there he was doing it again - unreasonable jealousy.

And when they’d first slept together, he felt like he’d finally understood what making love meant.

Billy Russo, who until a few days ago had spent most of his leisure time in life actively fucking women - how he’d always described it to himself and others - was now a confirmed big sap. He chuckled to himself.

He suddenly remembered ripping the shit out of a young Marine in his squad who’d come back off leave totally besotted with some girl. The kid had confessed (stupid move) to all the guys that they’d made love, a distant and dreamy look in his eyes. At the time, Billy had scoffed at him and endlessly humiliated him about it. In an affectionate way of course, he told himself.

But he felt guilty about that. Who’s the one with the distant and dreamy gaze now, Russo?

In all truth, Billy felt like he was having some kind of out of body experience. As if Previous Billy Russo was looking down in horror at his new self, yelling at him to get his fucking head back on straight. But New Billy Russo wasn’t listening because, well because he realised he liked feeling this way.

And he thought that she felt the same. He knew she was fighting it and wouldn’t admit anything to him, but there were little tells that had given her away. He decided he’d stay on his best behaviour, just keep trying to win her over, and he felt in his bones that they would be together.

But he did feel a sting of guilt. He had been honest with her, but he’d also been selective with what he’d told her about Anvil, how it all started, and this ongoing shit he and Frank were still embroiled in. One day... one day, and hopefully soon, he could tell her absolutely everything.

His phone, clipped to the dash, vibrated.

He rolled his eyes when he saw the caller ID, hit the button and answered it.

“Dinah... what can I do for you?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You, meanwhile, had just finished your second glass of wine and were admitting to yourself that you were really missing Billy. Oh this is bad, your brain yelled at you, very bad. You’d only known this guy for a few days and you were falling for him. Or - okay - had already fallen for him. It scared you, quite honestly.

He was charming, funny, handsome, sexy. An amazing lover. He’d been disarmingly honest with you about his past, but... but what? Why was there a ‘but’? Because there was something niggling at the back of your mind. Just a couple of expressions you’d seen on his face, quickly gone. An indication of more happening just underneath the surface than you knew about. Billy had a distinct air of danger about him, and you wondered what else was going on inside that dark head of his.

You’d fallen for him, yes... but you were also going to remain wary of him, until you were certain you knew everything you could about him.

Reaching over and pulling your laptop towards you across the coffee table, you typed Billy’s name into Google.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next morning, Billy parked his car and walked into Anvil. His reception staff wished him a respectful Good Morning, he nodded to them and headed upstairs to his office. Frank was already there, reading a newspaper.

“Mornin’ Bill,” he said, looking up. “Frankie,” nodded Billy, “want a coffee?” and kept on walking towards the coffee machine in the corner. “Nah, just had one, thanks.”

He poured out an Americano for himself, then chuckled loudly. Frank quirked an eyebrow at him, and Billy shrugged back. “I met someone last week. She owns two cafés, and she’s a coffee snob. Gonna refine my palate, she said.”

Frank looked back down to his paper before commenting, “I’m impressed you know that much about her, Bill. Didn’t think you bothered cos you usually cut & run.” Billy smirked, knowing he couldn’t dispute what Frank had just said, but he was going to enjoy the next slice of the conversation. Even just to see the expression on Frank’s face.

“I....like her. A lot. I want something with her.” “Something?” Frank chortled, “...you mean, like a relationship, Bill?” He looked closely at Billy, saw the shit-eating grin he had on his face and his jaw dropped. “You do, don’t you?! Fuckin’ hell! Never thought I’d see the day, Russo.” Billy burst out laughing.

“Well, that makes two of us, Frankie. But...” he spread his hands out to either side of him, “...it is what it is. And I’ll fill you in on all the details later. Now, this thing with Madani and Homeland - let’s get it nailed down.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

That same morning, you sat at your desk and slowly twirled from side to side in your chair. You sipped your cappuccino, and thought about Billy.

Little cousin had done you a favour this time and earlier on had delved into her company’s database, digging out some further information on Billy and Anvil which Google couldn’t provide you with. All it had given you was the bare minimum of the company’s founding date and numerous photos of Billy looking hot in his designer suits.

She told you she’d heard of him, and had also seen him at several events similar to the one you’d attended. You’d admitted you were seeing him, and she’d firstly screeched down the phone at you, nearly bursting your eardrum, before saying, “Now see, if you hadn’t gone in my place you wouldn’t have met him!” “Yeah, yeah, alright. Tell me what you’ve got for me.”

In a more serious tone, she said, “Just be careful though, his company seems a little... well, shady let’s just say. I mean, in the security business,” her voice lowered, “there’s usually some dodgy dealings or other going on. But him and his colleagues seem to have got themselves in some deep water with two federal agencies. I’ll email this stuff to you now and you’ll see what I mean.” You thanked her and hung up before she could tell you that now you owed her another favour.

You’d read through the attachments she’d sent you, and your eyes had got wide as you read that Billy and Anvil had originally been funded by a shadowy CIA guy, who’d then been killed in a gun battle between un-named protagonists. You sussed out that Anvil must’ve been one of those involved, as Billy and his friend Frank had been arrested and interrogated by Homeland Security before being released without charge. That struck you as a bit odd, but there were no more details available.

Your phone had chosen that moment to buzz with a FaceTime call from the man himself. You’d hesitated then accepted the call, and Billy’s handsome face popped up in front of you, with a wide smile plastered on it. You could see he was in his car. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” he said in a low sexy voice, and you felt your stomach tighten with excitement. This guy... the effect he had on you....!

You’d smiled and replied, “Morning, Billy.” He tilted his head towards you, dark eyes drawing you in, “Missin’ me? Because I’m missing you.” Shaking your head, smirking, you said, “We only saw each other a few hours ago so no, I’m not.” A cheeky grin from him this time, “Don’t believe you, angel, I think you can’t wait to see me again.” “You’re such a cocky bastard, Billy,” you laughed, “Why are you calling, exactly?”

His smile was a genuine one as he said, “I just wanted to see you before I head off to this job. Not sure when I’ll be able to call next. Remember - I’ll let you know as soon as I can when we can meet up this week.” You nodded, “Yeah, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.” He blew you a kiss, saying “Bye, angel,” before he rang off.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

One of your friends had called shortly afterwards to ask if you wanted to meet up for lunch, as you hadn’t seen each other in quite a while. Deciding that you could do with some girl time, you arranged to meet her in a steak house near the Chrysler Building, and then decided you’d better get some work done before you headed out for your long lunch hour.

The two of you had met up just outside the restaurant and had gone in chatting away to each other. Being shown to your table, you sat down only to spot Billy Russo walking in behind a small dark-haired woman. Your mouth dropped open, and your eyes took in every detail of her. She was pretty, with big dark eyes, olive skin and wavy hair in a shoulder-length bob. Billy, you noted, had his hand on her lower back, guiding her to their table, just as he had with you when you went for your first drink with him.

You leant forward to your friend, “I’m so sorry about this but we’re gonna have to go somewhere else.” She looked concerned, “What’s wrong?” “Someone I need to avoid just came in,” you explained, “c’mon, I’ll tell them I’ve had an emergency at work or something.” You both stood up, and you fled from the restaurant before you repeated your actions at that house party, which had got you arrested. You didn’t want to end up in jail this time just because of that jerk and his little lady.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy looked up as two women who’d been sitting near him stood up and started rushing towards the door. Weird, he thought, they hadn’t even been served judging by the menus still laying on their place settings. He looked back at them, and one of them turned back briefly to her friend behind her as they exited the premises.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. It was her. His angel. Oh fuck! Did she..? Yes, she must’ve seen him and... he glanced at Madani across the table from him, reading through the menu choices. She glanced up, smirking at Billy but it quickly dropped off her face, when she saw the expression on his.

“Billy?” she said, but he’d dumped his napkin onto his plate by now and was standing up.

“Sorry, Dinah... I gotta go.” An annoyed look on her face, she growled, “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not. I... there’s someone I gotta catch up with, and I just saw them leaving.” He walked away from their table, and towards the door of the restaurant. As he did so he heard Madani say in a harsh voice, “Is it a woman, Russo?” but ignored her.

He made it out onto the street, looking around him in all directions, heart sinking as he couldn’t see her anywhere.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23

[andguesswhat]

The fool on the hill - Chapter 9

Thanks a lot for your likes, didn't expect it for the last chapter (or was it just for the pic? 🤔😅) so I wrote this one in advance in case I get too frustrated about not getting feedback 😉 Hope you enjoy it!

Through the Arch

*

The next days were good. Tom realized a life with Owen was still better than a life without him, no matter what the circumstances were, and he tried to appreciate that.

On set it was as if they never had stopped filming. The ideas just bubbled out of them so that the scripts had to be changed almost every day. After the shooting they often met for dinner, just like before, except that now it wasn’t just Owen and him but other people as well.

Often Luke was with them. Tom didn’t mind. Owen apparently didn’t want to be alone with him so why not have Luke around, who sometimes gave Tom some insights about his brother, often involuntary but sometimes even deliberately.

Like that evening when Owen had taken a call and left Tom and Luke chatting at the restaurant table. It was already late and they both were tired and a little drunk but Tom felt immediately awake again when Luke at some point was making some vague and diffuse remarks.

“He likes you, you know,” he said with a heavy tongue. “He really likes you… but sometimes… he gets in his own way….” He looked at Tom as if this had some deeper meaning. “I think his past relationships with men were… let’s say they were mostly physical… casual… Which wasn’t necessarily bad for him cause… You know… because of all the trouble he had not being faithful… ”

Tom would have liked to ask Luke if this was supposed to be some kind of warning for him but Owen was already coming back to the table and Tom was left alone with too many questions in his head.

Yeah, he had heard that Owen wasn’t the faithful type…

When he thought about himself and his relationship with Chris – if one could even call it like that – he hadn’t been faithful in the end either.

From the outside looking in.

But it hadn’t been a betrayal either because it just wasn’t that kind of relationship. Which on the other hand didn’t mean that there wasn’t much love involved. There was. Heaps of love. And trust.

Relationships were complicated... and in any case, he would be the last one to judge behaviour like Owen’s when he didn’t know what the circumstances were.

But would it bother him if Owen was only in it for the sex? If he was honest, yes. Would it hold him back to have sex with Owen? If he was honest, no.

In any case those remarks caused Tom’s longings for Owen to reawaken and he decided to do something about it.

So when they were shooting the scene with Sif in the time loop and Tom saw Owen standing in the background watching, he knew exactly what he had to do: every time he squatted on the floor on his knees, he would straightened up and flip his hair.

Over… and over…. again.

And yes, when the next break was called (“20 minutes!”) he was more than satisfied to see that that little dark shade in Owen’s eyes had returned. That longing shade. That horny shade.

Owen was still wearing his own clothes, jeans and a plain t-shirt, but he had already his short hair for Mobius on. Tom liked it. It looked good on him. Sexy.

But this with the way Owen look at him now? Hot. Fucking hot.

“Care for a walk through my palace?” Tom asked him in his deep Loki voice.

Owen pursed his lips and grinned. “Why do I have the feeling that your palace might be just an illusion, my dear God of Mischief?”

Tom grinned back. “Well, let’s go and have a look, shall we?” He was already walking backwards through the tall arch and luring Owen into the darkness of the back scenery.

“Your collar…,” Owen remarked amused, following him. “The collar’s LED shines the way.”

And because they were already deep in the dark expanse of the set Tom decided to go for it and asked in an even deeper, teasing voice, “Do you like me wearing a collar…?”

Owen snorted quietly. “I’m not going to answer that in any way!”

But Tom smiled contently anyway because Owen’s hoarse voice had given it all away. And he smiled even more when he realized that the backdrops stood such that he could corner Owen. So he did.

“I could ask if they would lend it to me… for a night… you know” He was slowly approaching Owen, who still had that sexy little smirk around the corner of his mouth and was walking backwards now until he was up against the wall of the backdrop, looking just so damn hot.

His eyes were dark with lust, his chest was moving up and down…

God, what a sexy god he was.

Tom always imagined Owen would be the one kissing him first, but if he didn’t, Tom had no problem taking the lead. Owen was just too fucking hot to stand here and do nothing.

“Would you like that? Me wearing that collar…? And not much else…?” he asked in a hushed voice and Owen just looked at him, smiling at him, tilting his head a little, jutting his chin out a little…. So goddam sexy.

Tom put his hands to the wall on the right and left of Owen’s head on the wall and slid his leg gently between Owen’s, feeling Owen’s cock twitching against his thigh, and slowly leaned forward… to those sexy pouting lips he wanted to kiss so fucking badly….

He could feel Owen’s breath on his lips…

And then he felt Owen’s hand on his chest.

Stopping him.

Seriously?

Tom frowned.

Looked at Owen questioningly.

But Owen avoided his gaze, saying quietly, “We shouldn’t…”

Tom thought this was about being here on set, so he whispered “Why not? It’s a completely deserted backdrop, no one will see us. We’ll hear them coming.”

“No, I mean, we shouldn’t do this…” Owen raised his gaze now to look at Tom. “Don’t make this harder for me than it is… I want to… But I can’t… It wouldn’t work anyway… I’m sorry…”

What?

Tom lowered his arms.

Withdrew.

Watched as Owen pushed past him, saying “I have to get changed” and walked towards the lights…

Tom could only stare after him.

What the… hell?? What had changed over their time apart?

*

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

(sees another fandom that I can ask you about and cheers) Orphan Black! Thoughts? I don't know Dr Who but Tatiana is one of my favorite actors period.

Anon you are so sweet! I'm always happy to chat about fandoms and characters and whatnot, and I will never not appreciate the majesty of Tatiana's acting. That is one of the greatest parts of the show hands down.

Orphan Black, to me, is a show that had incredible potential, but didn't really live up to the excitement it created. (Loooong post ahead.)

The thing is, Orphan Black builds a chilling mystery and background, the world it gradually creates as it goes for about the first two seasons, got be very invested and made me wonder a lot about where it was going to go and what the answers were. The setup is brilliant, right from the start with that iconic cold open of Beth's suicide. The unknown is what really helped this show get as thrilling as it was, because the actual answers behind the unknown were kind of hit and miss, and it seemed like far too often, the show just wasn't interested in telling it's story. Hijinks where the clones impersonate each other in slice of life events? That's fun at first and it really works well as they're still getting to know each other. But after a while, it gets tedious, and it seems like the show would rather fuck around and have dance parties (seriously, that scene was such a #BigLippedAlligatorMoment) than focus on the story and the threat that the sisters are facing. Virtually all of Allison's plotlines are like this, they feel like they belong in a different show, and for some reason the writers insisted on giving her one of these storylines like, every season. After Allison passively murders her own friend out of suspecting that she's spying on her, I just don't feel like an arc about her running for some PTA office position even matters. It doesn't feel right.

Speaking of that, here's another example: Donnie. Why did the end of the first season suggest that he was this secret mastermind working for Leekie? The whole idea just deflates in Season 2 and doesn't really go anywhere. He just goes back to being the bumbling sweetheart he was before. Why even have him be the spy? Maybe it should have been Ainsley. Do you want to know the exact moment that I think Orphan Black went wrong? Like, the specific scene? When Leekie was killed off. The character who had thus far been the Big Bad, gets taken out in the stupidest possible way, a literal accident on Donnie's part, and it's even played for laughs. After that point, the show really struggled to regain it's footing, though I don't think it completely went off the rails until about Season 4, and it was still generally hit or miss. Like, some stuff was really good. The introduction of the Castor clones, the development of Rachel's character (I'll get to her, trust me.) and the reveal of Kendall Malone. But it seemed like so much else was just forgotten or otherwise not resolved. Whatever happened to Cal? Sure, the show wanted to focus on the sisters...but Kira deserves to know her father if she wants to. That's just one example. It's a crying shame because this show is sometimes incredible. The metaphor that I always use for situations like this, is a card game. The show has all the right cards in its hand, they're just not being played.

The two strongest characters, at least to me, were Rachel and Helena. One of these characters was superbly written and went through a devastating arc. The other was Helena. We need to talk about her. In Season 1, she really cemented herself as a memorable presence with her trademark accent, her scars, her whole damn personality (again, hats off to Tatiana) and of course, that iconic screechy theme music that accompanied her. Which at first made us jump, but eventually made us cheer. I adored Helena, and I loved the development of her relationship with Sarah. Who went from shooting her in Season 1, to being deadset on rescuring her in Season 3, being furious with Siobhan for betraying her. (This is unrelated but Siobhan has the same " twist villain fakeout" at the end of Season 1 that Donnie does, and it's quite frustrating.) And yet, I swear, the writers just didn't know what to do with Helena half the time. They put her on a bus for long stretches, including one point where she just up and leaves Allison's house in Season 4, for no given reason. And the characters just kind of...don't care. The same thing happens when she gets arrested. No one cares to try and find Helena, even though she's unstable and often a danger to those around her. Even though she's by herself with no real ability to function in society. Even though she's pregnant. There is no excuse for this, and no Sarah, that "I'm sorry, I avoided you" scene in Season 5 is not going to cut it. It's such an afterthought.

I'm being rather critical, but I hope you can tell that this is from a point of passion. I genuinely enjoyed this show and getting to watch it. Just that sometimes it didn't feel like the show cared that I was watching. However, this was not true whenever Rachel was onscreen. Look, I'm a Merula Snyde stan, so you can probably already guess how I feel about Rachel. Despite her crimes, despite her constant slipping back the dark side, I felt so bad for Rachel at the end of it all. That scene with Kira really sums it up. "Who hurt you?" "All of them." And no scene is more intense than when she stabs out the eye cam. Like, I'm sorry, I pitied Rachel pretty much from Season 2 on. Her parents were horrible to her, and I'm supposed to think Ethan is the good guy here? He kills himself in front of his own daughter, telling her that she doesn't deserve him. And then Sarah shoots a pencil through her eye, causing brain damage and requiring a long recovery. I'm not saying that Sarah was wrong to do what she did, just that if I were in her shoes, I'd still feel a degree of guilt for Rachel's condition. In the end, I'm devastated that she was barred from Clone Club, when she made the right decision at the point it mattered. But there's just too much history there, and Sarah won't ever forgive her. (Though again, I do feel as though there's blame to share.) Rachel is my favorite character and I never expected her to be. But she's just so complex. Side note: "Enjoy your oophorectomy" is so damn quotable. I don't know why but I love that line.

So, Rachel's my favorite. Who's my least favorite? It might surprise you. It's Delphine. I'm sorry, but I just...I couldn't get on board with C*phine. Not after Season 3. I was waiting for the point that the show would push to finally redeem Delphine for her turncoat role, for all of the hell that she put Cosima through. By Season 5 though? I realized that as far as the writers were concerned? She already was redeemed. Even though she did nothing to earn it, except be presumed dead by Cosima. The way she treats Cosima in Season 3 is actually disgusting. Her reasoning for breaking up with Cosima is circular. She has to love "all the clones" in order to be with Cosima, and the way to do that is to take over Rachel's job, which means they can't date anymore? I'm not the only one who thought that didn't make sense, right? Oh and let's talk about how she stalks Cosima's date, breaks into her house, and threatens her life. Red. Flags. Cosima even says the line, "If you're not going to be with me, just let me go." I'm sorry, that should not be something she has to beg for. Delphine's behavior made me want her to stay far, far away from Cosima. Who is, incidentally, a sweetie and I absolutely adore her. I legit have trouble remembering that Tatiana's playing her because she just looks and acts so different. That said, even though I immensely disliked Delphine, I am so very glad that they made one of the clones gay. Just like I'm glad that they made one of them trans. (Though...Tony wasn't handled especially well.)

In general, I do think the earlier seasons were stronger. The Brightborn arc, while interesting, didn't really contribute much to the overarching narrative. We got the backstory on Beth's suicide and finally learned the truth about her, I suppose. Still, even though Beth is one of my favorite of the clones, and I never expected her to be either...I feel like the actual reason given for why she took her own life was rather illogical. She apparently did it because the investigation was putting the clones in danger of another Helsinki. Okay, but just because Evie Cho says you should off yourself, doesn't mean you have to. You could just, like...stop investigating. And if you die under mysterious circumstances without explaining anything to the sisters, they're not going to be put off from the investigation. They're going to look into this even more, because they don't know why they're not supposed to. The reveal that she and Art fell in love toward the end adds an extra gut punch, but it also doesn't make sense because wouldn't Art have referenced it during the period that he thought Sarah was Beth? On the other hand, Season 4 also introduced MK. And I have such a soft spot for her. I adore that sheep-masked sweetie. Everyone always asks "Which clone would you date" (because fandoms can think of nothing else I guess) and I never see anyone give any love to MK. Her death absolutely tore me apart. I am glad Siobhan avenged her even if she went down at the same time. Side note, her last word being the affectionate "Chickens..." Broke me.

Season 5 was a strange beast. In general, it seemed like we were finally getting some answers to the questions that were hanging over us. Exploring the deep mythos. But then they kind of turned it around and made it just be a Wizard of Oz style fraud twist. Westmoreland isn't really inhumanly old, he's a charlatan. I don't know why that was necessary in a science fictional show. I've seen the interviews and I get what they were going for, it just feels like it would have been cooler and far creepier if he was actually that old. The puppet master pulling the strings the whole time. We also finally get some answers for Kira's superhuman healing abilities (though we never learn how she's telepathically connected to the clones) and I'm loving it, but the trouble is, it's inconsistent. Ethan "Why is this guy so popular, he's an asshole" Duncan told Rachel specifically that Sarah being able to have children was a fluke, that the clones were "barren by design." I don't know, the whole concept of Revival and of the "magical island" was really foreboding and tied in with the earlier references to The Island of Doctor Moreau. Especially that song about "Revival's Children" just...the shudders, man. But just having it be a regular old scam is...a letdown. I know it may be more realistic, but I don't always need realism in my scifi. The finale is interesting, in that it's mostly an epilogue. I'm glad the clones (sans Rachel) got to live happily ever after, but there are two gut punches right at the end that are total nitpicks but they bother me. Helena naming her kids after Art and Donnie? And writing a memoir that she names "Orphan Black?" Those two tropes can go die in a hole. They can enjoy an oophorectomy, because I'm so sick of them.

The potential of Orphan Black was practically infinite. The results of Orphan Black fell frustratingly short.

[moonstruckbucky]

The Recruit (6/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings for Chapter: Some swearing.

Notes: Wow, last chapter blew the fuck up. I’m excited that y’all seemed to hate that cliffhanger, but I hope this chapter makes up for it! Enjoy! x

Series Masterlist //  Main Masterlist

Captain Rogers looks awkward in your living space - broad, large, and imposing where he sits on the couch. He sits stiffly, feeling out of place in your personal space, your private space, observing the tiny glimpses of who you are. He doesn’t feel he deserves it, doesn’t deserve the chance you’ve, to his own shock, given him.

Your rigid posture, hands behind your back, imply you’re expecting orders. And despite his attitudes toward you, you’d obey without question.

It makes his mouth twitch sadly, and he shakes his head. The gesture draws your eyebrows downward. Confusion, perplexion - he can’t blame you. He’d stood outside your door for thirty minutes and he’s still unsure of what he’s actually going to say.

How about, I’m sorry?

He knows you’re losing your already waning patience with him the longer he remains silent. Swallowing heavily, he forces himself to meet your eyes.

“I… I owe you some apologies.”

You almost succeed in masking the sheer shock your expression morphs into, but you aren’t quick enough. He huffs through his nose, a bit amused by you.

“I know it isn’t what you were expecting to hear but… I’d been doing some thinking - a lot of thinking, actually - and the way I’ve been treating you is far from fair. Or right. I haven’t been very accommodating to you since you first interviewed here, and for that, I’m sorry.”

It’s deathly silent between the two of you, and you’ve managed to school your features back into that quiet stoicism that kind of unnerves him. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and each second you don’t speak drags by like a lifetime.

“What game are you playing, Captain?” you finally retort, terse and clipped. Even from across the room he can see the suspicion in your eyes, the mistrust. He hates that he’d been the one to put it there.

He spreads his hands, a gesture of innocence. “No games, I promise. I know I haven’t given you any reasons to trust me but, I sincerely hope you believe my sincerest apology. My treatment of you...it wasn’t intended to be personal…”

“It sure as hell felt personal,” you snap, and Captain Rogers winces, nodding in understanding. “I mean, what’s your angle here, Captain?”

The title is said scathingly, mockingly, a sneer curling your features. A look that’s so familiar when it’s directed at him it makes his stomach sink, makes it feel like it’s full of rocks. The guilt and disgust with himself puts a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“What are you getting out of this? There’s no way you’ve just happened to have a change of heart.”

“And if I have?” he questions sincerely.

“Then I don’t believe you,” is your immediate reply. Muscles in your jaw jumping, you continue, “From the get-go you have been nothing but a self-righteous asshole to me, ridiculing me in front of the other agents, second-guessing me, making me feel like I’d chosen the wrong career. You make me feel small, Captain Rogers, and like I don’t belong here. That being said, if your opinion of me actually mattered as much as you think it does, I would have put my notice in months ago.”

He knows the feeling of not being taken seriously, knows the pressure of being underestimated, ridiculed, taunted, pushed until he thinks he’s going to break. The fact he’s pushed you to this point puts nausea in his stomach.

You, meanwhile, can see every emotion as it plays out across his face. The furrow in his brow has grown more prominent, his frown deeper, fingers tightening into fists where they rest on his thighs. He squeezes his eyes shut and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to be sick. A small part of you realizes he’s actually disgusted in learning how he’s made you feel, but the angrier, less rational side of you is quickly stomping it back down.

He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness - not yet. Too many months had been spent questioning yourself, your training, your confidence. Your resentment of him for making you feel such a way is nearly palpable.

“You’ll understand why I’m having trouble believing a single word you’ve said to me.” Not a question, but a confident statement, and he can only nod. He’s done a lot of that in the time he’s been here, but he deserves every biting remark and question of motive you throw at him.

“So...where do we go from here?”

A valid question, but you aren’t sure of the answer, not right away. A few more moments’ pause and then:

“Give me time. Treat me like a human being, like an agent. Like I belong here because you and I know both know that I do. Start with that, and we’ll see. I can promise to remain professional - but only that.”

“I understand,” he says, and he stands because he’s getting the feeling he’s beginning to overstay his very reluctant welcome. “I know you don’t trust me, but I hope I can earn it back. You are a good agent, Y/N, truly. One of the best I’ve seen.”

He departs after your sharp inhale, a compliment that staggers you, honest-to-god nearly brings you to tears. Because even though he’s been a royal pain in your ass, it’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear him say. 

You’re sure that makes you some kind of mental case, but you can’t find it in you to care. Once the door closes, your knees buckle, dropping you into the armchair. A few tears escape your eyes, emotions in overdrive - first the incident with Bucky, and now this? Your head is spinning, a pulse behind your eyes that warns of an oncoming migraine.

You groan, dig your fingers into your eyes because while dealing with the typhoon that is Captain Rogers, you’d forgotten about Bucky. You’d kissed him, or he’d kissed you - you aren’t really sure how it happened, only that it did.

And it shouldn’t have.

As comfortable as you feel around Bucky, as addictive as his presence is, this can only spell trouble - for you and for him. For one, he’s a higher rank, a commanding officer right underneath Captain Rogers. If anything were to happen between you, it’d be so deeply frowned upon you’d probably have to find another job.

Slamming your fist into the couch feels counterproductive and not nearly as satisfying as punching a wall, but you doubt Director Hill would appreciate having to repair it. So you settle for a hot shower and some Bailey’s in a cup of coffee, a book in bed once you’ve rubbed your skin raw. You have a mission debrief later this afternoon, your second mission, and you can’t help the swell of insecurity - will you fuck this one up like you almost did the last one?

Cursing under your breath at the endless bout of tug-of-war in your head, you abandon the book and rifle through your files for the mission summary. You’re determined to do this next one right.

A part of you, a tiny, miniscule part that speaks up against the crowd, wants to do this to prove Captain Rogers right - that you are a good agent, and that hiring you had been a benefit to SHIELD. You’re determined not to let your blunder on your first mission become your legacy. It bothers you that you feel this way - after all, you’d asserted to the Captain himself that you didn’t give a shit what he thought of you. 

It clouds your concentration - your insistence that the Captain’s opinion doesn’t matter, yet your determination to earn your place amongst the ranks. Growling under your breath, you force yourself to memorize the mission notes front and backwards, shove the Captain and his opinions to the back of your head.

You take the stairs down to the conference room, give yourself a little more time to pour over the debrief. When you get there, you’re surprised to see Sam Wilson amongst the six other agents chosen for this mission.

“Agent L/N,” Hill greets, standing at the forefront of the room in front of a projector screen. She waits for you to take your seat before launching into the mission.

A drug kingpin who grew a little too curious about sense-enhancing substances. A bit too close to HYDRA territory, and it’s a simple extraction job. In and out, cease and desist.

Sam’s sent for supervision, to act as the senior agent in case things go awry. To your delight, they don’t. In fact, things go very, very well. Instead of being ordered to stay behind, Sam assigns you the lead position, lets you map out the plan to the other agents. A few heated glares, others envious of the responsibility you’re given, but overall, your plan comes to fruition neatly and quietly. Minimal hand-to-hand, zero injuries or deaths on either side, and you’ve successfully pilfered the scientific documents for the new substances.

You’re congratulated by Sam back on the jet, a bright grin against his dark skin. You like Sam, respect him and appreciate that he hasn’t seemed to judge you for the last time you worked together. In fact, he seems to recognize completely your desire for redemption and he sings your praises on the ride back to the tower, to your embarrassment. Some of the other agents warm up to it and join in, while others roll their eyes and turn away.

It brings heat to your cheeks as he rests a hand on your shoulder and says, lowly so as not to be too overheard, “I can see why Barnes likes you so much.”

A cold panic washes over you, but you just manage to keep it off your face. “What are you talking about?”

A simple disbelieving glance from Sam, a nervous shuffle on your end, and it tells him everything. He smiles knowingly.

“I won’t tease you about it, but you got our resident Iceman all tied up in knots.”

He chortles heartily while your face flames, and you have to look away. Though you feel the twitch of a smile trying to get through. It shouldn’t make you feel as giddy as it does, considering just that morning you’d run away from him.

But knowing you make him feel the same way he does you puts a lightness in your chest, and you resolve to talk to him, apologize for running. The flutters in your stomach intensify as the jet nears the tower, and if Sam picks up on your sudden urgency, he doesn’t say anything.

Chapter Seven

[callisto-rants]

Starting a new ✨series✨ that no one asked for! ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

Callisto-Rants presents...

Here's my Two Cents

Where we just throw down our two cents on how we would change a series to make it better, in our own personal opinion.

[You can Block this tag if you're not interested in this series: #Here's Our Two Cents]

Here's my Two Cents

Yarichin Bitch Club.

Ever since I had the misfortune of having that opening theme song stuck in my head because of countless memes and tiktok edits. . . I have wished for days to have the ability to create a time machine to prevent myself from saying. . .

"okay, fine I'll bite the bullet and check out the source material."

Now if you're reading this and thinking, "huh. I never heard of this series..." let me just tell you, GOD I WISH I WAS YOU RIGHT NOW.

No one was going to tell me this BL Manga about a "pHoTogRaPhY cLuB" wasn't completely INSANE? I was just supposed to find out Three Volumes Later??

Now some of y'all who have read the source material might be thinking. . .

"Okay Callisto, get over it it's obviously supposed to be a comedy it's not meant to be taken seriously 🙄"

And to that I say... I mean I guess??? But do we really need all of THAT to make it a comedy?? I feel like you could still have an entertaining comedy BL Manga without 90% of the shit that goes on in that series..... But that's just ✨my two cents✨ take it or leave it.

FIRST THINGS FIRST, here's all the stuff I'd automatically remove from this series off the bat.

💀 The Gang Bangs.

💀 Teacher x Student Relationships.

💀 In fact all instances of unconsensual acts & sexual assault committed in this manga. Throw all of that away.

💀 the fact that the term Bisexual was used as a replacement for the term switch, and had nothing to do with the sexual orientation itself whatsoever.

💀 The High School Setting.

💀 Whatever the fuck Yuri was on.

💀 90% of the hyper sexualized traits these characters had.

Now here's what I'd change to make it better... Basically here's an AU of what if it was actually a normal photography club....

Actually make it a fucking Photography Club. Not a sex club that's in a fuckin HIGH SCHOOL. Hell, you could just throw this in a college setting too, for more mature themes.

Main character, Takashi Toono a college student that's trying to get out of his comfort zone more. So he decides to join the photography club, because he thinks it's not demanding to require anything of him compared to any other club on campus. He knows completely NOTHING about photography, and doesn't have any passion for the art media. His Character growth would be learning to appreciate the art media While learning what it means to him, as well as who he wants to be as he enters the adult world as a young adult.

Yuu Kashima, can stay as Takashi's love interest. Also, I feel like all the members should have a specific style of taking photos that correlates with their personality in some way. Yuu's photography style would be something the lines of Candid photography which is a type of photography style that's main focus is to take photos in the moment or in surprise. Something he has already done when he took that photo of Takashi. I also feel like Yuu would be the one to keep pushing Takashi to love photography, and understand it's more than snapping a photo.

Kyousuke Yaguchi, can stay as the Love Rival for Yuu Kashima and overall keep his personality? It was actually pretty interesting and I liked his Character dynamics with everyone else. Kyousuke Yaguchi can also stay as the outsider that directly / indirectly influences Everyone else in the club. Causing Takashi to explore his feelings and expand his social group, and make him think about what he wants to capture in his photos. Overall the same interaction between Kyousuke & Yuu Kashima with their rivalry and brotherly relationship at it's breaking point. As well as, Kyousuke and Yui's relationship being tense with miscommunication.

Yui Tamura, I imagine Yui's photography style would be more of Adventure (capturing shots in the great outdoors, usually involving extreme sports; mountain-climbing, skiing, kayaking, sky diving, etc) & Sports Photography. Which could create interesting interactions between Kyousuke and Yui. Cue Yui trying to cover up the fact that, every time the soccer club commissions Yui to take some photos of their club activity to promote their club, all of Yui's photos are of Kyousuke playing soccer. Causing Yui to complain to Kyousuke to get out of his shots and that he's ruining them by being in all of them. So, Kyousuke just shouts back "then stop following me around with your camera, DUMBASS". Just imagine Them bickering, because Yui 100% did not delete the photo he captured of Kyousuke getting knocked out by a soccer ball to the face.

Itsuki Shikatani would definitely be in the club, but only because he prefers to have his photos be taken, more than he likes taking photos himself. He would probably be a cross dresser, who enjoys dressing up in feminine articles of clothing and posing for photos. Everyone on campus who doesn't know Itsuki personally, always asks who the beautiful woman in these photos are, the club president and vice President always just says it's one of their cousins that happen to be in town. If Itsuki had to have a style of photography, it would probably be fashion.

Toru Fujisaki. . . This one is difficult only because his Character is purely centered around Yuki's Character. . . So I'm going to take some creative liberties here. . . Probably really insecure about himself, because he feels like he's a wall flower that's really forgettable, that no one cares about. Although, it's mostly because he's shooting himself in the foot by not letting one have the opportunity to get to know him to give him a chance, in the first place. Until, he meets Yuki who makes him realize that not everyone sees him as a wall flower and someone can notice his nicer qualities about himself that he's hiding away. Toru's Character development in this AU, would be for for him to learn to love himself more and try to trust people to accept him. As well as to expand his social circle with the support of not only Yuki, but the Photography Club as well. At first I bet, he would only feel comfortable with Yuki taking his photos and modeling only for him, but over time he'd let the other club members take his photo when he gets more confident in himself. While also, developing his own style of photography, that isn't just "cute photos of Yuri", it would probably be Still Life or Portrait.

Ayato Yuri, okay first. . . I'm still not over the fact that this boy was written like a deranged feral child, that was given access to a pornhub account way too early in life. While being dropped on his head several times, before and after his first words. Anyhow. . . I feel like Yuri would fit the trope of the genius, that no one understands in any capacity. His mind is 10 steps ahead of everyone else and he forgets to slow down and explain what the fuck he's talking about, when he goes into a passionate rant about photography. With endless rambles about golden ratio, gold lighting and blue lighting, and how he needs these specific props, that don't seem to fit the theme of the photo at all to make it perfect. But despite that, his photos always come out beautifully. No one can deny that his methods might be extremely weird, but they always work out way too well to give anyone the opportunity to chastise him. Anyone trying to work with Yuri often leaves the experience with a beautiful photo in hand, but an enormous headache. Even members within the photography club can't keep up with Yuri most of the time either, he's often in his own little world that just makes sense to only him. He can be a eccentric and passionate about his hobby and goofy to not make people feel too uncomfortable with the huge distance he unintentionally places between himself and others when he doesn't bother to slow down for anyone. But, he still has a good heart to make sure everyone gets a piece of art that'll always be memorable to them. Additionally, with that being said I feel like Toru would be the few people that would consistently attempt to keep up with Yuri, when he's a light year away from everyone else in his rambles. Toru wouldn't shut down and show disinterest in what Yuri says when he can no longer keep up, he's always being supportive and encouraging Yuri to continue because he knows it makes him happy to be able to express his passion. And sometimes, Yuri will pause and explain a bit to let Toru keep up with him, because he just truly appreciates someone trying to get closer to him, without making him feel bad. I would say Yuri is a jack of all trades when it comes to Photography styles. There isn't a single style he is terrible at, but he truly excels at Abstract Photography.

Koshiro Itome I think Koshiro would fit the silent type trope, but with a lot on his mind. Always over thinking things, and although he looks calm his mind is always buzzing with 500 things at once. Because, of this the only way he can find some semblance of peace is by going out for a nature walk and letting the environment take his mind off things. He's always worries about deadlines for projects, meeting up with clients face to face for the first time, whether or not a company will like his photos he submitted, if his boyfriend Akemi is okay, what if he doesn't find anything to take a picture of or if he's missing the perfect shot right now, will the club be okay after they all graduate, what else can be learn to improve his skills etc etc. Akemi can always tell when he's actually calm and when he's just zoned out and drowning in his own worries behind his calm demeanor. Luckily for Akemi, he knows exactly what to do to make him feel better, like a life boat to his pleas for help in the vast ocean of his thoughts. Koshiro is 100% the mom friend in the club, always helping newbies out on how to properly take care of their equipment, and the general basics, stopping people from bickering and carrying around a Mary Poppins bag of useful items. "Damn I forgot to bring my infrared lens with me!" "It's okay I brought a spare, here you go." Koshiro's photography style would be Nature & Wild life, cue everyone wondering how the hell he managed to capture a photo of baby bear and it's mother so close up with such clarity with the equipment he has on him. It should be impossible there's no way he could it's just unlikely, but all Koshiro does in response is just shrugging calmly "I just slowly walked up to them, and took some photos and went my way after I was done, they weren't bothered at all." At first no one believes him, until they see the next photo of him petting the mother bear, and within the next photo of him holding the baby bears paw. I like to think Akemi is always bragging at how his boyfriend is basically a Disney Prince, with the way animals just trust him enough to let Koshiro approach to take the photos. Of course Akemi has the proof that his Boyfriend is not making any of these up. With photo evidence he had taken from a incredibly safe distance away, of Koshiro just interacting with wildlife at such a close distance. Because, Akemi was not in fact gifted the ability of a Disney prince, to be doing that shit that Koshiro pulls on a daily basis. I feel like because of this Akemi can be a bit over protective of Koshiro, always telling him to text him before he goes to work and he gets back home, so he knows a feral bear didn't devour his boyfriend in the woods. He tries his best to join Koshiro while he works so he can be at peace of mind that Koshiro is in fact safe, but they both know it's very difficult for Koshiro to focus. When his boyfriend is being incredibly cute how could he remember he's here to take photos of the wild life and not his boyfriend? That and Akemi always accidentally scares away the wildlife, when he accidentally reads the animals body language wrong as any attempt to devour his boyfriend. Akemi will lose 25 years of his life with amount of false alarms, he has encountered in those damn woods.

Keiichi Akemi, Akemi is definitely one of those smug bastards, that has an ulterative motive or an ace up his sleeve. Appearing sweet and kind until you realize it was a facade. But one way or another you find yourself wrapped up in his convoluted plans, where you're either in his photoshoot as a model or you're carrying all his equipment, while he goes from one job to the next. Akemi's photography style would be Wedding Photography & Landscape something he definitely would've picked up from the countless outings he had with Koshiro in the outdoors. Akemi's friends are almost always married or paired up together, and that's no coincidence. This man is a match-making demon, a hopeless romantic who loves to see a budding romance finally bloom. So, he can snag a fat check when they thank him for brining them together and hire him as the official wedding photographer. His intuition is never wrong about the perfect pairings and how to push the right buttons to move things along, without getting directly involved until the right time comes. Something, that will be a pain in Toono's ass down the line as he stays in the Photography Club.

Overall, I feel like this could've been a really nice BL Manga which was a love letter to the art media of Photography. As Toono figures out what Photography means to him and how he wants to use it to express his feelings. "Why do you take photos? What do you want to say in these photos and tell people without the ability of using your words?" I feel like at first Toono, would just be confused "it's just a photo what's so special about it? You take it as a cool momento for something."

But, as time goes on, and he learns why everyone in the club enjoys photography and why they're here, he learns it's more than that. Whether it be to vent something you're unable to express in words, express your love for something or someone, to tell a story, to inspire others, to feel free, to share something with someone. All these different forms of expression, will let Toono figure out what he wants from photography and how he plans on expressing it.

Also instead of the whole "have sex with someone in one month or we gang bang you against your will" dilemma. . . I feel like another suspenseful situation could have been, "Create a photo album, that will impress all of us in one month, or you have to help us all out with our next projects." Which at first doesn't sound terrible, until you remember...

Yui is a thrill seeker, and would probably push you off a cliff to snag a cool photo. Or force you to be his pack mule as you climb up serval mountains.

Itsuki would force you to cross dress and model different fashion styles to make you look like a clown for his own amusement. All the while he revels in your shame, and points out how these colors don't suit you at all, but ignores the fact he's the one who put you in that outfit in the first place.

Yuri is such a wild card that you honest to God don't know what the fuck will happen to you, it'll be like being on an acid trip the whole time. And not knowing what will happen brings you more fear than knowing what will.

Koshiro would probably bring you to a wolf den full of hungry ravenous wolves, and let you accidentally get eaten alive by a pack of wolves. While he takes pictures of puppies, without a care in the world.

Akemi... Akemi just scares Toono, he seems like the safest bet out of everyone else. But Toono knows better to trust that sweet smile. Toono would be safer walking into Satan's house than spend a day with Akemi at work. Whatever he would have planned for them if he were to lose this challenge would not be good for his sanity. He hates how he knows Akemi wants just that for Toono to know he's not going to be safe either. Akemi would probably make him cry with prying questions about his romance life. While hitting too close to home with all his assumptions about him that he can't argue back. It's losing battle from there on out.

The only problem for Toono is Everyone in this club is so different, that it's almost impossible to be able to impress them all. None of them agree, which style is better or having almost anything in common photography style wise. Toono can't just half-heartedly replicate anyone's style either, he's going to actually try and fail miserably to understand this art media better, like everyone else. I think after losing the challenge and spending time with everyone, Toono would come to really like the club and everyone else in it.

And that's my ✨two cents✨ on how this story could've been better if it didn't focus too much on the whole pwp aspect.

Take it or leave it.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch14: True Perfection Has To Be Imperfect

Chapter Summary: Frank gets the keys to the new apartment and the renovations start. Everything seems to be going so well for them all, until Fliss gets some news that rocks the very foundations they’ve been building.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

 A/N: As always, if you like and enjoy please comment and Re-Blog. I’d love to hear your thoughts and questions!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 13

 It’s your time, it’s your day, it’s never too late, to change lanes.

Frank could tell something was off the minute he pulled onto the yard. The usual chatter that rang out was absent and there just seemed a general air about the place that he couldn't identify. But it wasn't long before he found out why.

"Fliss is on the floor!" Mary’s voice loud with worry as she pointed into the paddock. Frank glanced over as he shut the door to his truck and felt himself grow cold. He broke into a jog, heading towards the fence and let out a sigh of relief when he saw she was moving.

“Wait here…” he instructed Mary before, with a flourish, he vaulted over the side of the paddock and jogged across the riding paddock.

 “What happened?” he asked.

 “Oh, hey Sailor!” Fliss grinned up at him, where she lay flat on her back, Thor led by her side, head on her thigh. “Just had a fall but everything’s working, just giving myself a minute to get my breath and what not.” “Nothing broken.” Joanne looked at Frank from where she knelt by Fliss, the reins to the big, black horse in her hands

Frank knelt down next to Fliss and looked at her as she reached out and gently ran her hand down his forearm. “How d’ya fall off?” “Oh Bronson got confused at the jump, was trying to dodge out to the right. I corrected him and he kind of took off, twisted mid-air and I got unseated.” she explained.

 “It was a pretty good show of acrobatics.” Joanne nodded in agreement.

 Thor gave a little whine and his head moved, his eyes looking up at Fliss who scratched his ear.

 “I’m ok, mate.” she said softly. “I’m good.”

 "This wouldn't happen on a boat ya know" Frank teased gently and she looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow as she propped herself up on her elbows.

 "Boats are boring...nothing like having a half tonne animal between your legs" she replied, causing him and Joanne to smirk.

“You’re terrible.” Joanne shook her head as Fliss simply grinned.

 “Okay, I’m good to go." Fliss sat up fully. Frank got up off his knees and held out his hand, gently pulling her to her feet. She dusted herself off and then turned to take Bronson's reins off Joanne.

 "Can you give me a leg up?" She asked and Frank felt his heart stop

 "You cannot be serious!" He spluttered back.

 "What?"

 “You’re getting back on?”

 “Yeah.” Fliss looked at Frank as if he was stupid “I’m not hurt, not really, just gonna ache like hell for a few days. It’s the same as riding a bike, you don’t stop if you fall off!” “It’s a little different to riding-“

“Besides,” she spoke over him, “he’ll be unsettled and if I don’t get on and end the session well it’s gonna be in his mind, and mine for that matter, for next time and it’ll just be a nightmare so…”

Frank knew there was no point in arguing with her. Instead he held his hands up and backed away as Joanne boosted her up.

“What happened?” Mary asked as he reached the paddock fence she was now perched sideways on, her legs hanging either side.

 “She fell off.” Frank answered simply. “She’s okay though. She’s back on.” They watched as Fliss gently walked the horse round before picking up trot, then canter and then turned him straight for the jump. Frank grimaced slightly but he needn’t have bothered, the horse cleared the fence and Fliss gently slowed him down, patting him.

 “Fucking crazy.” Frank mumbled to himself, shaking his head.

Whilst Fliss wasn’t seriously injured, she was certainly feeling the effects later on that night. Frank had called Verity, despite Fliss’ protests that she was fine, who had dropped round to Frank’s with some painkillers that were slightly stronger than your average ones. Fliss had taken two before dinner and as a result had started feeling a little bit woozy and light headed, commenting to Frank that it felt like she’d been smoking something funny. After diverting Mary’s questions on what that meant, they’d watched a bit of TV until Fliss announced she was thirsty.

 “I’ll get it.” Frank made to move but she stopped him.

 “I’m fine.” she sat up with a grimace, grabbing at her notoriously bad shoulder.

 “Baby, just-“ “Frank, stop it!” she said a little sternly. “I’ve fallen off more horses than you’ve had women.” “Wow.” he looked at her, and she snorted.

“I just mean it ain’t the first time and it sure as hell won’t be the last, kinda comes with the territory. I’m just gonna a bit bruised.”

 “Fine” he relented, and she pushed herself up off the sofa and walked slowly into the kitchen.

 A moment later he heard her groan “Fraaaaaaank.” “What?”

 “The soda’s on the top shelf. I can’t stretch my arm.” “What’s that? You do need my help?” “Stop being a dick.” she shot back, and with a wink at Mary who was laughing, he stood up and headed into the kitchen.

Not long after that they all ended up heading to bed. Frank knew that tomorrow was going to be a long day as he was getting the keys to the new apartment in the morning and they were starting the work straight away, Bill already scheduled to come and help. He’d booked as much time as he dared off work over the next week, given that he hadn’t been working there all that long but thankfully his Team Leader had been very understanding and Bill had said he’d take over on the days Frank had to be in.

Fliss stretched out, hissing at the bite of pain that coursed through her side and shoulder, the noise she made caused Thor to immediately spring up on the bed, nuzzling his face into Fliss' causing her to wince a little as he basically led over her like a huge teddy bear.

"Careful, buddy." Frank gently chastised the dog, reaching over to scratch his ears. He knew the animal was incredibly tuned into Fliss’ feelings, as were Cap and Heidi, the two horses she owned. It was something that genuinely amazed him and, if he was honest, made him smile a lot.

"Stupid soft git." Fliss muttered fondly, as Thor lay his head on her chest, teetering on the edge of the mattress, precariously, until a few seconds later he rolled and toppled off causing them both to giggle. The German shepherd shook himself off, shot them a scathing look, before he headed to his bed and flopped down with a loud huff.

"He didn't like it when you were on the floor before." Frank said softly, as she moved tenderly to lay her head on his chest. His hand reached round to card through her hair and down the side of her neck.

"No he never has." Fliss said gently "Ever since I got him he's been like that. He would always be the one that would lay by me, lick my face after...." she trailed off, the sentence didn’t need completing.  "He would growl something rotten at John when he started, but it was Loki that went for him in the end. That's why John killed him"

Frank stiffened, his hand stilling on the crown of her head, not quite sure he had heard right. "He killed your dog?" he repeated, questioningly.

"Yeah." Fliss swallowed. “He said he had bought him as a guard dog for the property not for me." She sniffed a little. "He poisoned him"

 "Oh, Lissy, I..." Frank sighed and she gently tangled her hand in the hair on his chest.

"I know."

 They lay still for a moment, her hand tracing shapes on his skin before she suddenly blurted out.

 "How do you do it? How do you make being with you so fucking easy?"

 "What?" Frank frowned.

 "This...I mean...you're kind, gentle, smart, funny, considerate. You know I’d half convinced myself you were gonna be crap in the sack to compensate it all but..." she shook her head. "I don’t get it."

"You don't get it because you spent almost four years living with a cunt who treat you like shit"  Frank said simply, anger flooding his system. “Lissy, I’m not perfect, far from it. I’m stubborn, opinionated, shit with words, I’m really untidy as you’ve noticed and, well, up until meeting you my longest relationship in the last ten years lasted for six months.” He shook his head. “All I do is treat you how you should be treated, with love and respect. Don’t put me on a fucking pedestal for being normal.”

She tilted her head and looked at him for a second, as Frank took a breath. That outburst had been a little uncalled for and harsher in tone than he’d meant, but he wanted her to understand that their relationship was normal. The way he treat her was normal. He was uncomfortable with this idea that she thought he was something special because he didn’t abuse her or hit her.

“I’m sorry I just…” he felt her stiffen besides him and he let out a soft sigh.

“No, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt.” He gently pulled her closer and nuzzled his face into her hair, kissing her head “You’re worthy of everything I said as a bare minimum. It’s not me being some kind of saint.”

“Can I put you on a pedestal for being gorgeous?” she asked after a moment’s pause and Frank snorted, shaking his head. “Well you are.” She protested at his response. There was another pause, until she broke the silence once more. “I do get it you know. Maybe I do appreciate you more because you’re not like him but, is that so wrong?”

“I’m not saying that, we’re together, we should appreciate each other.” he pressed. “I’m just telling you I’m not flawless.” “I know that.” she shrugged “Neither of us are. But isn’t that what makes this so perfect? It is because it isn’t. Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without”

“Confucius.” Frank raised an eyebrow at her, a small smile on his face as she looked up at him once more. Her eyes flashed and she grinned at him “How very philosophical.”

 She laughed “We’ll you’d know all about that, Professor.”

“Okay, here’s another one of his.” Frank grinned back. “Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall…”

“See, I told you I was right to get back on Bronson.” she quipped and at that Frank laughed.

******

Fliss woke the next morning to Frank gently kissing her cheek, softly running his hand over her hair.

“Morning Sweetheart.” he placed a mug of coffee on the side as she blinked and looked at him “How you feeling?” “Fucking sore.” she groaned. “What time is it?” “Half eight. I just packed Mary off on the bus.” “Half eight?” she sat up suddenly, immediately regretting it and winced once more. “Fuck, my alarm”

“Yeah I turned it off. Think the last batch of painkillers you took at three am wiped you out.” he sat on the edge of the bed as she shuffled up. She made to reach for her drink and let out a little huff of pain so Frank stopped her and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She smiled. “I’ll ease off when I start to move about.”

“Well, don’t rush about.” He instructed as she took a drink of her coffee, before he saw her face fall.

“Oh, shit. I have a lesson to give at ten in St Pete’s…” she frowned, and Frank could she she was starting to worry so he gently reached out, tucking her wild auburn locks behind her ear.

“Just chill.” He shushed her. “Joanne called before.” He nodded to her phone “I answered and told her I didn’t know if you were gonna be in but she said she’d open up and reschedule your morning appointments. Then you can see how you feel this afternoon.”

For a moment he thought she was going to flip out at him effectively making a decision like that for her but after a second or two pause she gave a grateful smile and sat back against the pillows.

“Thank you.”

“Take your time, your mom and dad will be here in a bit. Then we’re gonna get the keys and start on the apartment.” Fliss grinned as she took another drink of coffee.“You excited?” “Yeah, yeah I am.” He said, honestly. “Just wanna get it all started and then we can move in.” She smiled and he stood up. “Your mom’s bringing breakfast, said something about her boys not being able to work on an empty stomach.” He arched a brow. “Her boys?” Fliss smirked over her mug. “You really have got her wrapped around your finger.” He chuckled “Well what can I say, I’m a likeable guy…” “Hmmm you’re something I’ll give you that.” she quipped, and he laughed, placing a kiss on her cheek before heading back out of the room.

It wasn’t long before Fliss’ parents arrived and they ate breakfast, Verity fussing over Fliss who kept assuring her and her dad that they were fine. Once they’d eaten, Bill and Frank headed over to meet his new landlord and after he handed over the keys, they got to work. For their first task they shut the utilities off and ripped out the bathroom, which wasn’t too big a job seeing as half of the damned suite was smashed up anyway. Once that was done they moved into the living room and tossed out the tatty old furniture that had been left before doing their first run to the local dump. Then they moved onto ripping up the carpet in the living room.

“Shit!” Bill spluttered as a cloud of dust rose up from where they had wrenched the offending item free from the tacks. Frank blinked, backing up slightly, before he stood up, arm across his mouth. “Didn’t think it would be that bad.”

Bill rose to his feet and they both moved away, Frank picking up a bottle of water that was on the side and rinsing his face with it. He tossed it to Bill who did the same, the pair of them looking at one another before snorting a laugh each, and shaking their heads.

“And I thought this would be the easy bit.” Bill wiped his face. “Was less hassle ripping out the bathroom.”

 It took them an hour or so to cut the carpet into easily manageable pieces, rip it up, and toss it into the back of their trucks. By now it was scorching outside, and also inside as the air con wasn’t on seeing as they had no power. This meant both men were dripping with sweat and Frank couldn’t remember ever feeling so damned warm or grubby in his entire life.

 By lunch time they’d pretty much cleared the lot. Carpets, broken light fittings, broken kitchen doors and also the old washing machine. Grabbing another bottle of water, Frank stood outside the apartment, hand on his hips and smiled at Bill who gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Good job, son.” he nodded. “It’s a blank canvas now. Dave will be here soon with the new bathroom, shouldn’t take us too long to plumb it all in, connections are already there. We can start the tiling tomorrow.”

Frank smiled and grabbed his T-shirt at the bottom, lifting it up to wipe at his face and as he did so he heard a sharp wolf whistle. When he emerged from his shirt he grinned and looked at Fliss who was slowly walking towards them with Verity, Thor following behind, both women carried familiar paper bags.

Frank made his way over and she stopped, where as Verity carried on, quite tactfully towards Bill and Fliss grinned.

“Hey.” she greeted him as he leaned down to give her a kiss and she wrinkled her face. “Gross, you’re all filthy and sweaty and…” She trailed off, her eyes glinting as her voice dropped slightly and she ran a hand up his arm to his shoulder “Actually…” “Behave.” he raised his eyebrow at her.

“Don’t wanna.” she pouted.

 He shook his head and nodded to the bag. “You bring me lunch, Honey?”

 “You need to keep your strength up.” She winked. “Mom drove us to Subway.” “I love you Verity!” Frank called as he fished out his Turkey sub and she grinned at him.

The four of them settled down where they could, Fliss sitting on the steps, Frank by her feet on the lawn and Bill and Verity perched on the tail of Bill’s truck. They ate together, Fliss telling Frank she’d postponed her teaching now until Monday to allow herself time to heal a little, which he was secretly pleased about. It wasn’t long after they had finished lunch that the new bathroom turned up the women left them to it.

Frank and Bill worked well together and between the two of them they had it fit in little under two hours and Bill connected the water back up to test it. When it worked properly Frank gave a nod of satisfaction and smiled. The suite was an off white colour, nice and with a modern large bath. It might have been second hand but you couldn’t tell, and Frank liked it.

“Not bad for a day’s work.” Bill smiled. “The tiling shouldn’t take too long tomorrow and then, well, it’s just a case of decorating and a new carpet.” At that point the two men heard footsteps and looked up to see Mary bounding in, followed by Fliss and Verity.

“Hey Stack.” Frank greeted her as she looked around. “Whaddya think so far?” Mary nodded appreciatively. “Least it has a toilet.” The adults laughed and Frank nodded “Yeah, I mean we can move in now.” “What?” she frowned “There’s no carpet in the living room!”

 “I was being sarcastic.” Frank replied and she narrowed her eyes at him.

 “Roberta says sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”

“Well, she’d know.” he shrugged.

 “Am I staying there tonight?” She questioned Frank.

“It’s up to you.” he replied “We’re not going out are we, Honey?”

Fliss shook her head “No way, I ache too much, but I was thinking we could BBQ maybe? All of us?” “Ooooh, yeah!” Mary nodded, agreeably “Then Roberta can come too.” Frank shrugged “Yeah, I’m ok with that.” “Mum, Dad?” Fliss asked.

 Verity and Bill exchanged looks and Bill nodded. “I need to nip home and shower first but…” “No need.” Fliss shook her head. “We swung by and picked you a spare change up. You can shower at Frank’s.” “Oh can I?” Bill looked at her. She grinned back in response as Bill turned to Frank “That okay? You know, seeing as it’s your place, not hers.” Fliss stuck her tongue out at her father whilst Frank simply shrugged.

“She acts like she owns the damned place when she’s there anyway so it might as well be.” he teased and she glared at him, digging him in the ribs.

 “Shut up”

*****

The next ten days consisted much in the same vein. Frank had to work on the Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday but Bill took over the painting for him, and then on the Friday, a week after they had started, they fit the new carpets. The Saturday they spent fixing on the new kitchen doors and plumbing in the washing machine and on Sunday morning Frank fit the final touches, screwing in the new light fittings and then it was done.

That afternoon, Frank and Fliss stood in the middle of the living room admiring the finished article. It smelt of new carpet and wet paint, a smell Frank had grown immune to having been breathing it in for god knows how long.

 “It looks great.” Fliss smiled, taking the fresh, light grey walls, darker grey carpet which was complemented by the brushed steel modern light fittings.

 “Yeah, not a bad job.” Frank grinned. “We can start moving the stuff over tomorrow.” At that point Mary barrelled in from the hallway and beamed “My room looks awesome, Fliss, come see!” She gushed. Fliss allowed Mary to pull her out of the living room and followed her down the hall to the room on the right. It was a good sized bedroom, and it was freshly painted in light blue, a colour Mary had chosen herself.

 “Frank says I’m getting a new cabin bed soon with a desk underneath and I’m gonna put it against that wall.” She rambled on. “And on that wall I’m gonna stick my shells and there I’m gonna have my shelves for my books and a TV…” Frank leaned in the doorway watching as Mary pointed everything out to Fliss, his face curling into a smile. He’d never thought something so simple as having her own room would make the girl so damned happy.

 “…and Fred can have his own basket, although he never sleeps in them anyway…” Mary was continuing and Fliss looked up and caught Frank’s eye. He smiled at her gently and she beamed back.  “…and I can put my photos here…”  Mary finished “What do you think?” “I think it sounds amazing, Stack.” Fliss said, smiling at her “I can’t wait to see it all finished.” “Okay.” Frank pushed himself up straight from the door frame “Let’s go grab your stuff Stack and head over to find out what V’s made for dinner.” “I hope it’s beef.” Mary said, skipping out “Her Sunday beef is the best.” “It’s chicken.” Fliss whispered as Frank laughed, dropping an arm round her shoulders as they made their way outside. He locked the door and they headed back to the apartment, Mary collecting her stuff. Once Frank had checked she had everything she needed he tossed it into the truck and turned to Fliss.

“I’ve been thinking.” he said, as Mary climbed into the seat.

“Sounds dangerous.” Frank rolled his eyes “I know we said we weren’t gonna move in together yet, but, well, how about you bring some stuff over once I’ve got all the bedroom furniture and then that way you don’t need to pack a bag when you come stay.” Fliss smiled at him. “A sensible suggestion.” she agreed, her arms sliding around his neck.

“It has been known.” He grinned, his hands dropping to her hips as he leaned down to kiss her. They both jumped as the horn on the truck sounded and Mary leaned across the seats.

“Come on, stop kissing, I’m hungry.” “How about we ditch her on the side of the road?” Frank spoke loudly to Fliss and Mary scoffed.

“Stop making empty threats, Frank.” she sing songed.

Frank looked at Fliss who burst out laughing “You have no idea how damned similar the pair of you are.” She smiled with a shake of her head. *******

 It was almost a fortnight later when Mary casually told Frank she had reached her decision about Evelyn. It was a Friday and she had been at University for two classes that morning, and was heading to normal school for the rest of the afternoon. Part of the reason that Frank worked late on a Tuesday was so that he could be flexible when it came to things like this and could pop out for an hour or so to go and pick her up when he needed to.

He greeted her in the hallway as always and she slipped her little hand into his as they walked back outside and over to his truck. She glanced in the paper bag which contained her lunch he had bought her from the deli near the boat store, a treat he liked to get her every Friday now he could happily afford it without worrying and she grinned.

 “Save it for when you get to School. Otherwise everyone else will be eating and you won’t.” She folded the top of the paper bag over and grinned at him as he eased his way up the freeway.

“You drive like an old lady.” she grinned and Frank took a deep breath, a smirk on his face. That was a comment Fliss had made to him on numerous occasions, one which he normally retorted back with some reference to her driving like a maniac.

“It's Florida. I'm blending in.” He said simply to Mary, smile still playing on his lips. She side-eyed him for a moment, in a way that made her look ridiculously like Diane, even though he knew, again, that was a habit she’d picked up from Fliss. Or Roberta for that matter. Frank had a feeling that as Mary grew up she was going to be a perfect candidate for the whole nature v nurture debate…

“I talked to Fliss last night.” Mary said.

“I know, you stole the phone off me when she called and ran off to your room.”

“Yeah, why didn’t she stay with us last night?” “It’s Thursday, she never stays on a Thursday. You know this. She had paper work to do.” Mary fell silent.

“What were you going to say?” Frank gently pressed her.

“Huh?” “You said you talked to Fliss. Was that all you wanted to tell me or…” “Oh, no.” Mary replied “I asked her about whether I should see Evelyn.”

Frank took a deep breath, his face remaining passive “Right, so what did she say?” “The same as you. That it was my decision and whatever I wanted everyone would understand and be okay with it and that no one would be mad…”

“Of course no one will be mad.” Frank looked at her. “Evelyn is your grandmother, and it’s your decision if you wanna see her. Not mine, not the courts, not anybody’s but yours. And no one, not even me, is gonna be upset about what you decide, you got that?” “I know. And I’ve made up my mind.” “Yeah?” She nodded “I want to see her.” “Okay.” Frank licked his lips. Truth be told he wasn’t sure how he felt about this but he meant what he said. It was up to Mary and at least now he would have some control over the access. “If you’re sure then I’ll call her on Monday and we’ll make some arrangements.” “Maybe she can come here, see our new place.” “Maybe.” Frank nodded, although he had a feeling that hell freezing over would be more likely.

There was a moment’s silence as both of them were lost in their own thoughts. Frank stole a glance at his niece as she sat looking out of the window, chewing her lip and he decided to move her away from the subject as he turned off the main road.

“How was school?”

“Fun.” Mary nodded. “Not like regular school fun. But interesting.”

Fun. Regular. Two words Frank had craved for Mary all her damned life, and it made him smile to hear her so full of life, so happy, so settled.

Mary’s attention flickered from him to the seat next to her and she moved her lunch bag to look at it.

“What is this book?” she asked, picking it up and flicking it open.

“Discourse on Method.” Frank said, giving her the title of his latest read “Rene Descartes.”

“What's it about?” she pressed.

“Existence.”

“Existence?”

“Yup. I think, therefore I am” he said, a small smile on his face.

“Well, of course you are. That's obvious.” Marry rolled her eyes and Frank supressed a snort. Everything was so logical in her little brain, there was an innocence to it all that he loved.

“I think about Fred, therefore, I am Fred.” she continued.

“Cogito ergo Fred?” Frank teased looking at her.

“He's a dude and he's a guy,” Mary grinned, “and he only has one eye.”

Frank let out a chuckle as Mary tipped her head back and continued in a loud, ridiculous voice.

“Fred! Fred! Fred! Freeeeddddyyyy, Fred, Fred!”

Frank laughed began to slow down, pulling up by the school.

“All right, here we are.” He glanced over and saw Mary was fiddling with her belt and opening the door. “Hey, wait till I come to a stop…” he started to protest.

“Then come to a stop already!” Without so much as a glance back she grabbed her lunch and shot over to the playground which was brimming with other kids. He watched, a small smile playing on his face as she made her way over, dropping her lunch to the floor and throwing herself into a game. Something that he would never have believed possible back in September when she’d first started. But here she was, almost seven months later, like she’d been there all her life. His attention flicked to Bonnie as the woman shot him a friendly wave and a nod, which he returned before he set off back to work before someone called the cops on him for sitting outside a school staring at a yard full of kids.

****

As he was winding up at work for the day, Jake called him, an impromptu guys night out was being organised for that night as Jake had a ‘pass out’, his words not Frank’s. Frank hesitated for a moment, he hadn’t planned anything with Fliss as such, but it was Friday, their night…

“Oh come on!” Jake snorted as Frank rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me Frank Adler is hesitating over a night out!”

“No, it’s not that…” Frank protested “We’ve just had a really busy fortnight and…” “Man you’re whipped. Already. What is this? Like month five and you’re already in the-”

“I’m not whipped, I just like spending time with my girl, what’s wrong with that?”

“Dude come on!”

“Okay, okay.” Frank sighed. “What time?” “Eight at Fergs, and if you don’t show I’m gonna come round your gaff and drag you out myself.”

Frank shook his head and cut the call before he dialled Fliss.

“Hey, Sailor.” She greeted. “I was just thinking about you.”

“About me or that thing I did to you on Wednesday night?” he grinned and she snorted.

“No, about you. Although now I’m thinking about that thing.”

Frank chuckled. “So what were you thinking about?”

“Oh, erm, tonight. Thought we could grab a pizza and head up to the marina for a walk, maybe grab a beer.”

“Erm, yeah.” He sighed. Shit.

“We don’t have to.” She responded, clearly reading his voice tone. “It was just an idea.”

“No, I do, I just….” He took a deep breath. “Well, Jake called, said the guys are going for beers and it’s been a while since we all got together so I was…” “Frank…” Fliss laughed softly “You don’t need to justify yourself. If you wanna go out, go out.” “You don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?”

“Well, Fridays are kinda our night.”

“I know but, well it’s not as much of a big thing now Mary has her own room, we kinda get our own nights a bit more often.” “Ok, fair point.” he smiled and she laughed.

“Maybe I can wait for you at yours? I can go to Roberta’s for a little while with Mary.” “You don’t have to ask.” Frank smiled softly “You can stay whenever you want, you know that.”

“Well, that’s settled then.” she replied, before someone shouted to her and she retorted before coming back to Frank “Sorry baby, I gotta go but I’ll see you later.” “Ok, love you.” “You too…”

***** After Frank headed out, Fliss wandered down to Roberta’s with a bottle of wine and after more loud hairbrush-karaoke, Roberta had cracked open the Bourbon and the two women had sat on the stoop until just gone eleven when Fliss had headed back. Throwing on one of Frank’s T-shirts she crawled into the king sized bed (an excellent purchase decision that she had talked him into) and snuggled down into the new blankets (another excellent purchase decision), Thor jumping up and taking his position by her feet.

She can’t have been asleep long when she woke as Thor gave a low whine and jumped off the bed, nudging the door open and heading out into the hallway.

Then she heard a thud, followed by cursing.

“Shit. Who put that there?” She heard Frank groan, then he started laughing “Thor! Get down!”

There was more laughing, and protests which Fliss listened to for a moment, before she swung her legs out of bed and headed down the short hallway. She quickly checked the front door as she walked past to make sure he’d locked it behind him, and then headed into the living room to find Frank led on the floor as Thor basically jumped all over him, licking his face and wagging his tail.

“Some guard dog you are.” Frank laughed again as he attempted to push the dog off him.

“Good job you’re not a burglar then.” Fliss spoke, causing Frank to look up, grinning stupidly at her “Mind you, the amount of noise you’re making you’d be a pretty shit one…”

“Heeey…” he grinned, as Thor finally moved off him and he pushed himself to his feet. “There you are!”

“Here I am.” Fliss nodded, and she couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face. He was beaming at her, a stark contrast to how John was when he used to come home drunk, but then that was Frank all over, a completely different person, and she knew that.

“There you are, my girl.” He stopped in front of her, his hands falling to her hips. “C’mere…”

“Ok, someone had a good night.” She grinned as he placed a sloppy kiss on her lips.

“Yeah, it was.” He nodded and then he suddenly looked around “So the bedroom moved.” he turned back to her and whispered conspiratorially. “It’s not where it usually is...”

“No, you moved.” She laughed. “You moved apartments, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded, before he looked down at her, taking in her bare legs “Is that my T-shirt?”

“Yes.” “Take it off, thief.” “Okay, let’s get you to bed.” Fliss patted his chest.

“Yeah?” He arched his eyebrow grinning.

“To sleep.”

“No sleep.” He pouted, dropping his head to gently nuzzle at her neck. “Wanna give you some lovin’...”

“Yeah and how are you gonna do that when you’re too drunk to take your pants off?” Fliss laughed as she led him down the hallway.

“You can take em off…” He said as he stopped in the bedroom, looking round.

“Oh I can, can I?” She asked as he kicked off his sneakers.

“Yes…” he nodded as he sat on the bed. “I’ll allow it.”

“You'll allow it?” Fliss deadpanned as he started to undo the buttons on his shirt. Eventually he gave up and reached back, grabbing it behind his neck and with a tug pulled it over his head, tossing it to the side. He reached out to Fliss, pulling her close to him, his arms wrapping around her back as he looked up at her.

“I will allow it, but only because I love you.”

“Ok so let me get this straight.” Fliss chuckled as she ran her hand through his hair. “You're gonna let me take your pants off because you love me?”

 “Yeah.” He nodded.

 “I'm so lucky…” She snorted

 “Hey, I’m a catch…” Frank let go of her and flopped back on the bed.

 “I never said otherwise.” she grinned, moving to take his belt off.

“Ah ha ha see, you do wanna get in my pants.” “I want to get you in bed, so help me out here hot-shot.” With a grin Frank raised his hips and she tugged down his jeans, dropping them by the side of the bed.

“Come on…” she patted the pillows and Frank shifted, moving the right way onto the bed and after a bit of a battle with the covers he’d settled himself down, one arm thrown over his head as he watched Fliss who gently turned off the lamp and settled down next to him. Shifting onto his side, his hand gently ran up her thigh, resting on her hip underneath his T-shirt.

 “I love you.” He said softly, and she smiled and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I love you too.” she smiled “Even when you’re being a drunken idiot.” “I’m not drunk.” “Course not.” “Okay, maybe just a little bit.” he conceded after a moment. “But I do love you.” “I believe you.”

“So much, you know what? One day, I’m gonna marry you.”

 “Oh, are you?” Fliss asked, running her hand through his hair.

 “Yup, and then we’re gonna make little Franks and Flisses and…” he stopped as Fliss’ laughter filled the room. “Why are you laughing?” he asked her, his tone indignant “You don’t wanna marry me and make babies?”

 “Not after us being together for like less than 6 months.” she laughed.

 “Well that’s just rude…” he mumbled, dropping his head forward so it fell to her chest.

He stayed still for a moment, mumbling something else as Fliss continued to run her hands through her hair, and it wasn’t long before his soft snores told her he was asleep. With a fond smile she dropped a kiss to his head and closed her eyes.

*****

Fliss took great delight the next morning in telling Frank exactly how much shit he’d been talking when he came home, including telling her that he wanted to marry her and make babies. He’d groaned and banged his head on the table as he sat nursing a coffee, instantly regretting that as his head was pounding as it was. Thankfully, Mary had gone with Fliss to the yard and spent most of the day there leaving him to suffer in peace, firing abuse to the Circle Of Trust What’s-app group, his only slight consolation being they all seemed to be suffering just as much as he was.

He collapsed into bed on the Saturday at just gone ten pm and slept straight through to eight the next morning when he was woken by Fliss softly kissing him awake. He knew what she wanted, and happily obliged and once they were both spent and slightly sweaty from a particularly energetic sex session, they both showered and after a breakfast of Waffles and fruit, spent the rest of the morning browsing the IKEA website for a bed for Mary. They then headed over to Bill and Verity’s for the usual dinner before they’d all collapsed in bed at Fliss’ after watching a film together.

 Monday morning brought the usual routine, shower, breakfast, kiss Fliss goodbye, drop Mary at school, head to work, check the list of active jobs for the week, start one of said active jobs, pause for a mid-morning snack from the coffee shop, resume work. All standard stuff, so it was a little surprising when the routine of the day was broken.

“Frank?”

Frank popped his head up from the deck of the boat where he’d been working on the steering column and looked at Fliss who was stood in the open entrance to the workshop.

“Hey…” he smiled, “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you but…”

Because he was, he was always happy to see her, he was simply surprised as they hadn’t arranged to meet for lunch like they sometimes did if she was teaching over this way. He stood up and reached for a cloth to wipe his hands on before he climbed down from the boat and as he noticed the look on her face he frowned.

“Baby, what’s the matter?”

 “I err…I got a call and I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do and I just needed to see you and…”

 “Hey, hey.” he soothed, his hands on her arms “Calm down.”

She took a deep breath as Frank glanced over to Paul, his co-worker and nodded his head to signal he was heading outside. Paul waved him away and Frank dropped an arm round Fliss’ shoulder and steered her outside into the sun and out of the view of everyone.

 “What’s wrong?” he asked her and she nodded, taking a deep breath. He could see she’d been crying and he searched her eyes with his own as she looked at him.

 “I got a phone call…from the Victim Assistance Services.” Her eyes were wide “John’s been granted the right to a Parole hearing. They’ve set the date for 23rd May, six weeks.” Frank took a deep breath, concentrating on keeping calm despite the fact he could quite happily have kicked something there and then.

 “I don’t know why I’m so shocked.” Fliss continued “I mean I always knew this would happen, but hearing that he’s finally got a date...” she looked at Frank “If he’s successful, then he could be out by the end of June and…”

“Honey, just because he’s been given the right to a hearing, doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to get out.” “The woman on the phone said that there’s a better chance that it will be refused if I appeal. But if I want to do that then I’ll have to either go in person or do a written or recorded statement and I don’t know if I can…” A tear fell from her eye and Frank gently wrapped her arms around her, pulling her to him. “I stood in a courtroom last time, telling them exactly what he did to me, about how he beat me and degraded me, only to be told I that I was a liar, and that I liked it rough, that I egged him on and… I can’t….I can’t do that again Frank…”

 She was rambling into his chest and he could do nothing but pull her close and drop a kiss to her head.

“No one’s gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna.” he pulled away slightly, cupping her face in her hands.

“They’re sending me a letter.” she said “Explaining my rights and stuff in more detail.” “Want me to call Greg?” He asked, a sudden inspiration coming to him. “I know he’s a Family lawyer now but he did do some time with this type of thing a while back, if you’re happy to speak to him I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to help…”

 “I don’t know if I can.” she sniffed. “I don’t know if want him knowing every detail, I mean even you don’t know it all…” “I know.” he agreed. “And you don’t have to tell him anything to start off with, just ask his advice.” 

She sniffed gently, and looked at him. “I have to tell you don’t I?” She said softly, “All of it?”

Frank hesitated. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but if this was going the way it looked like it was going to go, he would find out sooner or later, and, as he looked at Fliss, he knew that no matter how hard it was, how shitty it was going to be to open up fully, she would need to do that herself to keep some control over the situation.

“You don’t have to do anything. But if you decide you want to, then I’ll listen.” 

He dropped a kiss to her head and pulled her back to him, gently rocking her to-and-fro as he squinted out over the harbour. 

**** Chapter 15

[bitchloveskcbaseball]

Tripping Over Myself

Pairing: Logan x OC (Charlotte Wheeler)

Summary: Charlotte’s not the best at communicating and it gets her in a bit of trouble. (takes place shortly after Drawn to a Flame)

Warnings: Language. Lots and lots of language. Seriously...so many f-words. lol Also, mentions of her previous car accident (it’s not super detailed, but it is brought up a few times) and her resulting injuries.

Word Count: 5525. I swear ... I was certain this was going to be nothing more than maybe 2k words. And then this happened and the thing that I wanted to happen in this fic didn’t even happen so that’s fun lol

Logan belongs to Pixelberry, but the other two lovelies are all mine.

A/N #1: This was written for @rodappreciationweek​ MC day. And sticking with the theme from the first two pieces in this series, I have pulled the title from the lyrics of Shawn Mendes’s Stitches.

Also... a huge huge thank you to @burnsoslow for reading a piece of this that had me chasing my tail for what seemed like forever and fixing it for me. You are the best!!

“Hey hey hey! The hell you think you’re doin?”

Freezing mid step to turn back around to where Paul was glaring at her from his now-seated position where he'd rolled out from under her car on his creeper, Charlotte scrunched her nose up in confusion. “You were bitchin’ that you didn’t have your 3/8 down there. Figured I’d grab it so you’d stop muttering to yourself.”

“I had one rule for letting you stay after you showed up here today. And I made it explicitly clear.”

“But – “

“No. No buts.”

“C’mon Paul! You can’t seriously expect me to sit on that damn stool the entire time we’re here. I am fully capable of walking to the toolbox and grabbing a goddamn socket!”

“Lottie, sweetheart. You are still healing. You need to take it easy.” Instead of the calming effect she was sure he was shooting for, the soft gentleness of Paul’s voice just reminded her of an adult trying to calm a child who was in the middle of throwing a massive tantrum. And that ratcheted her mild frustration up until she was actually throwing a damn fit.

“For fuck’s sake! I know I’m fucking hurt. But I’m not a complete invalid. I don’t think me taking three fucking steps across this damn storage unit and picking up a tool that weighs a few ounces is going to do me in when a fucking slab of concrete didn’t!” Her hands flew up to steeple across her nose and mouth. “Shit. Paul – “

Gaze firmly locked on his white-knuckled grip on his wrench, Paul cut her off with a slight shake of his head. “Nah. It’s … it’s fine, sweetheart.”

In two shaky steps, Charlotte was across the unit and gingerly kneeling in front of him. Slowly, as if she were approaching a spooked cat, she eased the wrench out of his hold so she could wrap his hand in her own. “No. It’s not ‘fine.’ I … I shouldn’t have said that. I promised I’d stop acting so nonchalant about the accident.” Before he could interject, she nudged his knee with her own. “Shush, lover. I really am so incredibly sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. You’re only trying to look out for me. And I appreciate that more than I could ever say.”

Finally lifting his head from staring at the floor between them, Paul’s teary eyes met hers, twisting her heart even harder. In barely a whisper, he asked, “The hell did you have to go there for?”

Letting out a harsh sigh, Charlotte stood up and whirled around. It was a motion she instantly regretted when every thing went a little off kilter and her vision started to swim. Ugh! Not this shit again. She fought against the urge to lean against the work bench to her right, not wanting Paul to decide that she needed to be taken home: that was the last place she wanted to be at that particular moment.

“Lottie?”

Finally giving up any thoughts she'd had of blowing off his question with the pretense of being fine, she practically exploded, “Ugh. I’m just … I’m so fucking tired of all the hovering!” Her fist closed around one of the lug-nut caps that were lined up on the bench, waiting patiently for the new wheels and tires that had yet to be ordered to be installed. The urge to hurl it at the closed roll-up door was only eclipsed by the desire to not mar its mirror-like finish: finding replacements that matched the original set from L.A. was hard enough the first time and she certainly didn’t want to have to do it again because she'd briefly lost her damn mind. So she forced herself to replace it into its previous spot and let out another, albeit quieter, sigh. “Look … I love Logan, ok? Like all that head over heels, all my heart bullshit? I feel all of it for him. With him. But fuck it all. He has barely given me six inches to breathe since he showed up in my damn living room. I know it's only been a few weeks, but it has felt like years and not in a good way. I mean, I had to sneak out of my own fucking home just to come down here today!”

“Sweetheart – “

“I know. And I get it. I scared the shit out of him. Hell, I scared the shit outta both of you guys. But … “ Finally turning back around – slowly and carefully this time -- to face Paul again, she let her shoulders sag. “I can’t live with someone micromanaging every second of my day. Every move I make. I … I cannot go back to that kinda life.”

Stepping up to stand in front of her, Paul gently rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms. “Have you talked to him? Told him all this?”

She laughed bitterly. “I have tried. So many times over the past few weeks. But every time I try to bring this or anything remotely related to the accident up, he just completely shuts down on me.” Voice breaking with the tears she was fighting to hold back, she muttered, “I can’t lose him again. But I can’t keep doing this either.”

“C’mere.” Careful of her still-casted arm and still-tender ribs, he wrapped his arms around her. Instinctively she tucked her face against his neck, letting his presence soothe her. After several silent moments, he pressed a kiss to her temple and asked, “You want me to talk to him ‘bout it?”

“As much as I would love for you to do that … you can’t. I have to be the one to get through to him if this is really going to work between us.”

Tightening his hug ever-so-slightly, Paul kissed her temple again. “I’m so proud of you, Lottie.”

“For what?”

“The girl I met a lil over a year ago would never.”

Pushing back from him enough to see his face, she narrowed her eyes at him as she tried to decipher his meaning. When she came up empty, she questioned him, point blank, “The hell nonsense are you talkin’ about?”

“When you first started pestering me at the sideshows, trying to bully me into giving you a spot in one of the races. You had everything so locked down, I’m not sure a stick of dynamite would have gotten you to open up. Even after I succumbed to my still-ongoing case of Stockholm Syndrome oof – “ using her cast to knock him in the stomach may not have been her smartest idea, but it was still an effective form of retaliation – “and we started hanging out more, you kept most of your feelings tucked away in that vault. I mean, sure, you eventually let me in, little by little … but, my point is, I’m proud of you for admitting how you are feeling.”

Despite the way her eyes rolled exaggeratedly, she couldn’t keep her lips from twitching with the smile threatening to break out across her face. “Would you shut up already?”

“Only after we circle back to that bit about you sneaking out to come down here. Thought you said Logan drove you?”

“Um … how ‘bout we go back to you singing my praises?” All she got in response was a stare down from Paul, so she relented with a sigh. “Fine. I noticed Logan had dozed off, so I slipped out and called a cab to bring me down.” When his eyes went wide, she held up her free hand and quickly added, “I left him a note. I’m not the one that just vanishes without a trace.” The venom in her words caught even her by surprise.

“Maybe without a trace. But never without a conversation.”

“Ugh.” Charlotte’s head fell forward so that her forehead was resting against his chest, grumbling, “Thought you were ‘posed to be my friend and stick up for me?” He shot her a knowing look, but she continued on before he could launch into the spiel she'd already heard dozens of times before. “Fine. Ok. You win. Save the damn lecture and put the time to better use. Say … running me home?”

Laughing, Paul retorted, “Bout freakin’ time, sweetheart.”

A short time later, Paul was pulling up to the curb in front of her apartment building. Mind already running through the things that she needed to say to Logan as she reached for the door handle, she jumped when Paul’s hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder. “Don’t I even get a ‘goodbye’ or ‘thank you’ first?”

“Shit! I’m sorry! Thank you so much. For letting me hang. For forcing me to talk this shit out. For bringing my ass home.”

Chuckling indulgently, he told her, “You’re welcome. For everything.” She once again started to climb from the car, but stopped when he continued, “But, I need you to promise me that you won’t sneak out like this again.”

Chuckling indulgently, she shrugged her shoulders and opened her door before tossing back, “I would, but I don’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”

The glare she got in response was stern, but the effect was all but negated by the warmth in his voice as he threatened, “Fine. Lemme put it to ya this way, sweetheart. If you do it again, I’m dumping your ass. For real.”

She waited until she’d stepped out and up onto the sidewalk before she turned around to say, “It’s so adorable when you act like you could live without me, lover,” before turning to walk through the front door, blowing him a kiss from over her shoulder.

As she crossed the lobby towards the elevator bank, her eyes caught on the Out of Service sign and she let out a groan. Despite her annoyance, Charlotte didn’t blink an eye before heading for the staircase, figuring it was only a minor inconvenience. Especially since, at her last appointment, the first thing she’d asked once her doctor had mentioned that she was good to start easing back into very light physical activity was if she was okay to take the stairs to her apartment, because the ancient elevators were constantly having issues and she knew that having the freedom to move around more meant nothing if she couldn’t get in and out of her damn apartment. While he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect, he assured her that she’d be fine so long as she took it slowly and carefully. Still, she knew even with the green light from her doctor, it was going to feel like a trek after having spent so long doing little more than traversing the path between her bed and her couch.

True to her expectations, by the time she’d gotten to the second floor, she was definitely more winded than she’d usually be and her entire body was beginning to take on that achy feel of being suddenly being forced to work. But neither of those things is what had her slumping against the wall with a white-knuckled grip on the handrail. No, that was brought on by the way the world had seemingly begun to spin around her, setting her completely off balance.

What could have been five minutes or five hours later, she chanced peeking an eye open, but the vibrant mosaic tile pattern of the stairs was still swirling and swimming about in front of her, causing her to slam it back closed and drop her head back – gently – against the wall. Frustrated that the only change in how she felt was the deep churning and roiling in her gut, she finally acknowledged that she wasn’t going to be making it up the rest of the way on her own and pulled her phone from her pocket to call Logan.

Without opening her eyes, she placed her finger over the fingerprint reader, waiting for the digital clicking sound that signaled it had been unlocked, but it never came. Steeling herself for the unsettling sensations that were about to wash over her, she once again peeled an eye open and pressed the power button to wake up the screen. A loud groan escaped her when the screen remained dark, reminding her that she had forgotten to charge it the night before.

Faced with the unsettling choice of either continuing on in spite of the vertigo – which seemed risky, even by her standards – or staying in her spot for who knows how long until the episode passed, Charlotte couldn’t hold back the sobs building in the back of her throat or the tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she slid down the wall to sit on the step. All she wanted, with a desperation she hadn’t felt since those first few weeks after he'd walked away the last time in L.A., was for Logan to wrap her in his arms. To whisper all of his sweet reassurances in her ear. To be the calm and steady force that centered her through the storm.

Almost as if her longing thoughts had conjured him, he was suddenly there, hands running gently over her arms and then brushing away her tears as he rattled off question after question, not leaving her space to actually answer one before moving on to the next. It was just as well, however, considering her addled mind couldn’t seem to make any sort of sense out of the words, choosing instead to latch onto the strained breathlessness with which they were uttered.

Wanting, or rather needing, to reassure him that, while she felt awful, she was wasn’t in mortal danger, she blindly reached out until her fingers brushed against the familiar, well-worn softness of his favorite denim shirt. As she ran her fingers across what she recognized as his chest, his free hand came up to tangle gently in her hair and she sank into the touch. A beat later, his forehead was resting against hers and she couldn’t have missed the shudder that ran through his body or the shaky exhale that passed his lips if she’d tried.

Charlotte’s fingers curled around the button-lined edge of shirt and she whispered, “It’s okay baby. I’m okay,” so softly she was surprised when she felt his answering scoff fan across her face, confirming that he had actually heard her.

Instead of a snarky retort or censuring lecture she was expecting to hear, the next words out of Logan’s mouth were simply, “You good if I pick you up?”

Her eyes shot open at the almost frigid indifference in his voice and the sight in front of her knocked the wind out of her like a punch to the gut. His brows were deeply furrowed and his lips were pursed together so tightly that they were barely visible. It was one thing to know that he was worried and upset – she’d felt it in his every tentative touch -- but it was something else entirely to see it.

Wanting nothing more than to ease some of his tension, she trailed her fingers up from his chest along the side of his neck and face, across his forehead until she could smooth them along the deep-set lines running between his eyebrows. It was a left-over habit from when she’d briefly moved into his loft in L.A., one that had never failed to relax him. This time, unfortunately, it didn’t have the same effect and her heart sunk just a little bit deeper into her stomach. Feeling defeated, she let her hand, along with her gaze, drop back down to her lap as she answered his question, “Yeah. I think the dizziness is mostly gone now. So long as we take it slow, I should be fine.”

Without hesitation, Logan pulled back enough to push himself up out of his crouch and it took everything she had not to whine at the loss. Within seconds, he was leaning back down to wrap one arm around her back while the other slid underneath her knees. Instinctively, Charlotte wrapped her free arm around his neck and as soon as she did, he was standing back up and tucking her against his chest, making sure to be mindful of both the strap of the sling across her back and the bulkiness of her cast. He spared her one glance with a raised eyebrow, but immediately averted his eyes when she assured him, “I’m good.”

Despite the way that he was cradling her so carefully in his arms as he carried her up the next two flights of stairs, with what seemed like no effort at all, it felt to her as if there was an entire canyon between them. Not once did he look down at her. Not once did he even twitch as if he was thinking of dropping a kiss to the top of her head. Not once did he open his mouth as if to say something to her. Even when she had to drop her head against his shoulder as a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her, the heavy silence remained.

As soon as they were back inside the apartment, Logan settled her gently onto the couch then turned to grab his pillow and a blanket from the pile of bedding he made each morning when he folded the pull-out away. Wordlessly, he tucked the blanket tightly around her – just the way she needs to be able to sleep alone. As he was reaching up to place the pillow beneath her head, she caught his wrist in her hand, whispering his name beneath her breath. Rather than make eye contact with her, he simply shook his head once and slipped away from her grip.

Stung by his rejection, Charlotte didn’t try to stop him again as he left the room. Instead, she curled up into as tight of a ball as she could on her good side, letting the scent of him on the pillow and blanket take over her senses until she was slowly drifting off into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

By the time that she woke up, the living room was cast in complete darkness, save for the bright green LED light letting her know her phone was finished charging. Lotta good that does me now. She blinked a few times in an effort to get her eyes to adjust to the lack of lighting, but still could barely make out the outlines of the rest of the furniture surrounding her. Even still, she knew Logan wasn’t in the room with her: she could always feel his presence when they were in the same space and that feeling was noticeably absent as she slowly pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the couch.

After giving herself a couple of minutes to make sure she wasn’t going to be dizzy again, she got up and headed towards the kitchen, figuring that would be his most likely location. Sure enough, she found him there, perched on one of the oversized chairs that in no way matched the tiny, shitty-ass excuse for a dining table that he currently had his forearms resting on. He was staring at the wall in front of him so intently that he didn’t even seem to hear her enter the room. Or, at least, that's what she was choosing to believe.

With just a couple more steps, she was able to close the distance between them, allowing her the ability to wrap arms around him from behind. She never made it that far, however, because as soon as her palms made contact with his shoulders, he startled and tensed beneath her touch. She opened her mouth to apologize for scaring him, but he cut her off before she had the chance, seething quietly, “Don’t you dare pull that fucking shit again.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t just sneak out without a word and then not answer your damned phone for five hours and expect me to be okay with it!”

“Okay, one? I left you a note telling you where I went. Two? As you clearly have already figured out, my fucking phone was dead. I didn’t even realize it until I was on my way back up here!”

Standing up from the chair so fast that he nearly knocked it – and her – over, Logan whipped around to face her, eyes wild with fury. “So one irresponsibility is just supposed to excuse another?”

Charlotte gave up all pretense of trying to stay calm, throwing her hands up in the air as she shouted, “For fuck’s sake, Logan! You knew where I was! If you were that damned desperate to get ahold of me, why didn’t you just call Paul?”

“I did. He wasn’t answering his goddamn phone either! By the time he finally did pick up, it was over half an hour after he’d dropped you off.” While he’d started off yelling at her in a volume that rivaled her own, Logan had trailed of into little more than a whisper by the time he was done. And that cut her deeper than the loudest insults ever could.

Unsure of how to respond, Charlotte reached up to fiddle with his spark plug necklace. It was something that had become a somewhat-nervous habit for her when he’d given it to her back in L.A. and she’d picked it up again once she’d begun wearing it almost constantly after their reunion. That simple, unthinking motion ended up being the answer to her loss of words, however, when the cool weight of it in her hand, combined with all the emotions running rampant through the room, sparked the memory of how she’d come to possess it in the first place.

“Logan, baby.” She paused, waiting until he looked up from the floor to meet her gaze before continuing gently, “You remember what you told me when you gave this to me?”

He raised an eyebrow at her as if asking her where she was going with this abrupt subject change. When she didn’t give him an answer, he let out a harsh sigh before replying, “Not entirely. I remember it was before the Grapevine job. Something about it keeping you safe like it did for me?”

“Yeah, that was part of it. You also told me how you came to wear it, too. How you'd survived a crash that you probably shouldn’t have.”

Rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air, Logan sniped, “Okay … so? What's the point of this random-ass trip down memory lane?”

“You told me that you’d almost died. In a car accident. Right before we were about to go steal four very expensive sport cars. And we were going to steal them off a car hauler on the freeway, no less.” As if he had suddenly figured out where she was going with this, his eyes widened before narrowing on her. He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand to stop him. “I’m not gonna lie. As much as I was so touched that you were giving me something that meant so much to you? The story behind it fucking terrified me. Because if you – who had been driving so long and had so much skill at it – could wreck like that, what chance did I have at holding up my end of the bargain? Not to mention, just the idea of you getting hurt almost sent me into a tailspin. And I’m not so sure that that wasn’t your plan all along.”

“I – “

Walking over to wrap her arm around his neck, she kissed first his cheek and then his lips briefly and tenderly. When he didn’t tense up or pull away from her, she chanced nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. “I know, baby. You were just doing whatever you could think of to keep me safe. I understand that. And I understand that the result of me being a complete dumbass during that race scared the shit out of you. But I’m still here. I’m still alive. And today’s episode notwithstanding, I’ve been feeling really good. So this whole, hovering-over-me thing? The it’s-too-dangerous-out-there-thing you’ve been doing? It’s smothering me and I … I just can’t do it. It took me far too long to escape it with Wheeler. Far too long to find the strength to realize that it was okay – more than okay – to be who I wanted to be regardless of whether the people in my life accepted it. So … as much as I hate worrying you, I cannot go back to that old, boring version of myself, the one that never really felt like me, just because it's safer.”

Logan inhaled sharply and hands tightened ever so slightly where they had been resting on her hips since she'd tucked herself into him. A couple long beats passed before he finally muttered, “You know, you seemed to have skipped over the most important part of that story, though.”

Face scrunched up, she asked, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. That wasn’t just me giving you a good luck token. That was me trying to tell you not only to make sure you’re always in control, but also to make sure you learn from life's lessons.”

“I know.”

“Do you, though?”

Taken aback by Logan’s abrasiveness, Charlotte stumbled back a step, only to be met by narrowed eyes boring into her. “I ... I … I do.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it from where I’m standing.”

“Logan – “

“Do you even realize how fucking stupid that stunt you pulled today was? What if that episode had hit when you were out there on the streets somewhere? All alone?”

Even though she knew his point was valid, Charlotte couldn’t bite back her derisive scoff. “First of all, I was literally by myself when it happened, so yeah, I have a decent idea.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Continuing on as if she hadn’t heard his outburst, she added heatedly, “Second, the only time I was by myself today was on the elevator ride down to the lobby, the walk from my cab to Paul’s storage unit and back here in the stairwell. It’s not like I was fucking gallivanting around the whole goddamn city.”

“For fuck’s sake! It’s not – you know what? Just forget it.” Throwing his hands up, Logan turned to storm out of the room.

“Sure. Just ru … run away. It’s – “ Tears that she refused to let fall clogged her throat and she pressed her lips together in an attempt to gather her composure. She realized, however, that the damage had been done, her stuttering robbing her words of their intended venom, so she pressed on with a watery whisper, “It’s what you do best.”

Practically freezing mid-step, he pivoted back around to face her, hands scrubbing at his face. “Damn it, Char. I’m not running away.” Shoulders falling when she rolled her eyes at him, he quickly closed the distance between them to lace their fingers together and insisted, “I’m not.”

“Then why – “

Without warning, Logan crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that left her short of breath when he finally pulled back just far enough to murmur, “’Cause you refuse to acknowledge how fucking reckless you’ve been and it is frustrating the ever livin’ shit outta me. And it just felt like it was better to walk away than say something I’d regret. Something just to hurt you. I don’t want … I can’t hurt you like that.”

Charlotte pulled back a little bit further to meet him square in the eye. “Future reference? Words are no big deal. You walking away? That’s the shit I can’t handle.”

Tangling his free hand in the hair at the base of her head, he gently pulled her face back so he could feather another kiss across her lips before replying, “Noted.” Another barely-there kiss. “Thing I can’t handle?” A slight tug of her bottom lip between his teeth that pulled a sharp gasp from her. “You not takin’ this shit seriously.”

This time, instead of leaning in again, Logan pulled pack just a bit further. She tried chasing after him, but he maintained their separation until she dropped her head back with a groan.

“You even listenin’ to me?”

“Um … yes?”

“Charlotte.”

“Hey!” She tried to glare at him, but instead ended up giggling, “You were the one distracting me!” When he leaned back in for another kiss, Charlotte dipped back as far as she could. “See! You’re doin’ it again!”

“Answer the question and I’ll stop.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?��

Shaking his head at her with a familiar and fond smile tugging the corners of his mouth upward, he chuckled, “Okay … Answer the question or I’ll stop.” As if to emphasize his point, he pulled his hand out of hers and untangled his other from her hair to place them both on her hips to keep her planted to her spot when he took a step backwards.

Making sure to soften her words with a smile, Charlotte grumbled, “Ugh. Fine. If you’re gonna be so cruel about it … “ A light pinch pulled another giggle from her. “Okay. Okay. Yes, I heard you.”

“And?”

“And … I get it.” The incredulous look he gave her almost had her flinching. “Look, I get that I haven’t been the most … appreciative for the way that you’ve been taking care of me. And I get that I can’t go back to ‘normal’ just because I want to.”

“Char – “

“Hold up! I’m not finished!” Stopping to heave a frustrated sigh, she continued, “I’m going to do better from here on out. I’m gonna take it easy until the doctors clear me. I’ll do a better job of listening to my body when it starts telling me to take a break. And I’ll stop fighting you so much about it.”

“Not stop all the way, huh?”

“I think we both know me better than that.”

Pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose, he snickered, “Okay, that’s fair. That mean we’re done with this sneaking-out shit, then?”

Raising an eyebrow defiantly, she fired back, “Depends.”

“On?”

“Are you done with all your helicopter shit? Because if you are? Then yes. I’m done sneaking out.”

Logan studied her face with an inscrutable expression on his own for what felt like hours before nodding his head once. “Fine. I’ll chill out so long as you behave.”

Wrapping her arm around his neck with a smile, she told him, “I’m so glad we got that settled. I hate fighting with you.”

“God, me too. Are you as exhausted as I am?”

Charlotte snorted as she dropped her head against his chest. “Oh, my god. You have no idea.”

“Why don’t we call it a night, then?”

The hopefulness in Logan’s voice almost made her snicker, but she managed to smother it by placing a kiss to a spot right above his heart. “That sounds like a great idea, so long as we go together tonight.

The words were barely out of her mouth before he was nodding eagerly and answering, “Done.”

A/N #2: Just in case any one is wondering (since I haven’t written about Paul and Charlotte’s friendship nearly as much as I have wanted to) and also because I just really want to share this tidbit behind Charlotte’s nickname for Paul. When the two of them first started to become friends, the way Paul was always calling her “sweetheart” drove her absolutely crazy for reasons I may actually write about at some point? lol so she decided to retaliate by calling him “lover.” Unfortunately for her, however he didn’t mind, so it obviously didn’t have the desired effect. Eventually, it became a habit of affection and each of their nicknames stuck. Thank you for indulging me in this moment of ridiculousness

Perma Tags: @burnsoslow​ @mvalentine​ @anotherbeingsworld​ @adiehardfan​

Logan Tags: @brightpinkpeppercorn

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 1

Word Count: 2,683

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language

Notes: Ok so here is basically our introduction to the Bubble Wrapped story. I have no timeline for this thing or even if it will continue, you guys let me know. As a background, this story will be about life inside Hotel X. In case you don’t know the teams inside Hotel X are the Bruins, Capitals, Flyers, Penguins and Lightning. So here we go, Happy Reading!

You'd been shocked when Hotel X had been picked as one of the hotels for the NHL to stay at when they resumed play in Toronto. Even more so when you were asked if you would take over the management of the place over the next several weeks. "Listen (Y/N) we know we are asking a lot. You'll have to live at the hotel with all the players as the NHL is really trying to keep everyone in this little bubble."

 "I understand. I've already talked to Carly about putting different measures in place when the Maple Leafs came to us before submitting their proposal." Carly was another member of the hotel staff, that served as one of their concierges. She knew the ins and outs of the city and could get tickets or dinner reservations on the drop of a dime. That was all before COVID though. Now, some restaurants were still closed and shows hadn't resumed yet. What once was a bustling city, had come to a dead stop over the last several months, though things were starting to get back to normal; well the new normal that is.

 "So we heard." You hoped the blush that crept up your cheeks couldn't be seen on the zoom call as that had become their new form of communication with you. "You've dealt with the players before, we know you can handle it. Though this time it'll be completely different with five or six teams staying there." Most of the players had always been super nice to the staff, though there were a few that could be demanding at times. You prayed they'd all push their egos aside, at least while in the hotel, though somehow you doubted that. "I think you're familiar with the NHL's protocol on their reopening, but we'll email you everything once we get it. Start putting together the staff that you want. Just some core people that you'll need."

 "I've got the right people in mind, don't worry."

 The call went for a bit longer going over specifics. The only benefit out of the whole thing was that they were giving you the Presidential Suite to stay in. Honestly, it was the least they could do; you thought. Of course, the called ending with them saying, "Don't let us down."

 As soon as it ended you called Carly making sure she was on board. "I'm just saying Car that many hockey players in the hotel; the testosterone is going to be flying around."

 "So what you're telling me is you've already packed an extra-large box of condoms."

 "Carly!" You shouted at your friend. "That's not what I was saying at all."

 "Come on (Y/N), I know you're one of Seguin's regulars when he's in Toronto."

 "I'm one of them because I can keep my mouth shut." It was true that when Tyler was in town during the summer or on a road trip the two of you always hooked up. Sort of a no strings attached relationship, though you did talk from time to time. "Besides he's not even going to be in Toronto. He's in the Edmonton bubble."

 "Oh, I didn't realize." Carly despite being from Canada was not a hockey lover, though she did appreciate the men who played the sport. "Well, maybe you should call him and get the scoop. You know find out who we need to be aware of."

 It wasn't a bad idea, not that you were going to ask him who to sleep with, but maybe it would help get a handle on who was going to be problematic, as there was no way you wanted to let the owners of the hotel down. You had a lot riding on this and after all, you couldn't put bitter rivals in one hotel and not expect some drama. "You're right. I am going to call him."

 "Ooo good, let me know what he says and if we should get more than one box of those condoms."

 You shook your head at your friend before hanging up and dialing Tyler's number. "Hey beautiful, long time no talk," Tyler said and you could almost hear the smile in his voice.

 "Hey Ty, how's quarantine life going?"

 "Ugh, don't get me started. I was not meant to be locked in my house without hockey for this long." Tyler wasn't meant to stay put anywhere too long, including relationships.

 "Well, hockey's almost back so there's that."

 "Yeah, I'm pumped about it, though I wish I was staying in Toronto instead. I know some fun that we could get up to since I have to stay in the bubble." He paused and you could clearly tell he was running different sex scenarios in his head. "I'm assuming your working at the hotel."

 "Yeah, it's kind of why I called. I'm one of the ones trapped in the bubble with you guys."

 Tyler groaned. "So, you called to ask me who you should hook up with? Cause babe, I'm not sure I'm willing to share you like that."

 "Shut up Ty, you know we're not like that. You couldn't stay faithful to one woman if you tried." Part of the reason the two of you got along so good, was the fact that you called him out on his bullshit.

 "I might if I could drag you with me everywhere." You giggled at the insinuation of being taken everywhere just so you could keep him satisfied. "You're definitely gifted with many talents (Y/N)."

 "You're not so bad yourself, but we're getting away from why I called."

 "You mean you didn't call to have phone sex with me," and you could hear his pout.

 "No, I didn't call for that. I was just curious if you had any idea who was going to give me problems while we're in this so-called bubble. I'm trying to be preemptive here."

 "Ok, but if I give you some information you at least have to promise to send me a pic of your tits." You mentally rolled your eyes at him; the boy was a horndog.

 "Fine, now spill some tea."

 "Spill some tea, what is this a gossip blog or something."

 "You're avoiding the question Ty, and I'm putting on a sweatshirt." He groaned.

 "Alright, don't get your panties in a bunch…or maybe do." It never ended with him. "I don't know a lot about some of the younger guys that are newer in the league, but my guess is they're all horny little bastards. Hell, I was when I first got in the league."

 "You still are."

 "Touché." He answered before continuing on. "So, like I probably don't have to mention the rivalries to you, but like Caps and Pens hate each other, the Flyers and Pens hate each other. Doesn't everyone just hate the Pens?"

 "I think you either love them or hate them."

 "That's true," he agreed with your statement. "The Flyers and the Caps hate each other as well and don't get me started with who hates the Bruins. Wow, who really put them all in your hotel?"

 "I'd like to know that as well." It seemed like whoever did, had a warped sense of humor and you were now going to be stuck handling the mess that they'd made. "So, basically what you're saying is that it'll be an all-out brawl at times that I'll have to clean up after."

 "Sorry babe, but I think it could be. On the bright side, we're supposed to stay on our own floors."

 "Like that's going to happen." Maybe you should designate elevators or something because you could just see Alex Ovechkin and Claude Giroux getting in one at the same time and by the time, they got to your lobby they'd both be bloody and beaten. "Anything else I should know?"

 "You seriously want me to go there?"

 "I mean...if you want to." You certainly weren't going to ask but if he offered the information you'd tuck it away for later that's for sure.

 He sighed heavily, "You know I hate this, but like Tom Wilson gets around that's for sure and I've heard that Travis Konecny does as well. If I'm being honest there's maybe been a girl or two that's compared us."

 "Really?"

 "That doesn't mean you have to be one of them, though if you are…you better tell them I'm better."

 "Don't worry Ty, I'll sing your praises. I promise." Obviously, you wouldn't be doing that but it didn't hurt to stroke his ego a bit. "Anyone, to avoid?"

 "Marchy!"

 "Dude, he was like one of your best friends. Why would you say that?"

 "Because I know him. Stay away he's trouble." The fact that you could almost see the look on his face as he was telling you was comical.

 "Fine."

 "Oh and stay away from Carter Hart." The name sounded familiar.

 "The goalie from Philly? Why?"

 "Because you'll corrupt him." You burst out laughing and Ty joined you. "He's too innocent for you."

 "Dually noted, as I do not want to be known as the corruptor of innocents." You searched your mind thinking of anything else you could ask since you had him on the phone. "What about Crosby?"

 "Sid?" and he just couldn't stop laughing; you could even hear him try to catch his breath.

 "Why is that so funny? The man is hot Tyler, whether you want to admit it or not."

 He got serious as he asked, "Who's hotter him or me?"

 Thank god you weren't on FaceTime, so you could answer him without your features giving you away. "You are Ty, of course."

 "I thought so, but like the guy is hockey twenty-four seven. There's no way he's going to be thinking about getting laid."

 "That's disappointing."

 "He's about the only one that I'd give you permission to fuck, only because I know it would be impossible for you to accomplish, even given all your talents." You could hear the mischievous tone in his voice.

 "Hmmm, are you willing to bet on that?"

 "What? Like bet, you'll fuck Crosby in the bubble?"

 "Yeah." Did it really sound like such an unattainable accomplishment?

 "What's the wager?"

 "Winner flies out when this whole COVID shit is done and is the other's sex slave for twenty-four hours."

 "Oh, you are on, baby. I can already see you handcuffed to my bed in some skimpy lingerie." He cackled at the thought and it fueled your resolve to win this bet.

 "Don't be so sure about that."

 "And how am I to know that you actually slept with him?"

 Well, this would be tricky. "Well, it's not like I'm videoing it."

 "No, but that gives me ideas for when I win." Maybe you should be rethinking this gamble.

 "What do you want his underwear?"

 "Nah, you could get that in the laundry. But I'm sure you could sneak a pic of him sleeping." God that sounded creepy but if it meant you had Ty as your slave for a day, it'd be worth it and you'd never show it to anyone else but him and even then you weren't going to send it to him, though he didn't need to know that now.

 "Ok, it's a bet then."

 "Too bad we can't kiss on it."

 "Oh, you'll be doing more than kissing when I win, Seguin." Mentally you started packing sexy outfits to take into the bubble with you while thinking of all the things you'd have Tyler do the next time you saw him. "On that note, I better get my ass to work and make this hotel ready for these guys."

 "Fine, I'll let you go as long as you promise to FaceTime me at some point during this bubble thing."

 "I'm sure I'll have a night open for you at some point." You teased.

 "Woman, you better."

 "No worries Ty, you're still my main man; when you're in town."

 "That's right baby, good luck."

 "Thanks for all the info, Ty. We'll catch up soon and good luck in the playoffs."

 You were just about to hang up when you heard him yell. "Don't forget my titty picture."

 All you could do was shake your head and click end call, though you being a woman of your word, you snapped a quick pic and sent it off to him; to which he responded with a drool face emoji.

 The next couple of weeks were a literal whirlwind as you moved into the hotel's presidential suite and got things ready. Beds were moved out so that some rooms that had two queens now had one king in them. The hotel was disinfected from top to bottom. If felt like you were wearing a hazmat suit all the time during this process. A week before the players arrived the NHL staff did, making sure everything was in order and making sure you had things set up for daily COVID testing. Of course, you had everything well in hand and organized per their instructions, though with a few tweaks that made the process more efficient. Overall, they seemed impressed with everything that you had done.

 All that preparation lead up to the big day, July 26th, when the teams moved in. The league had them spread out so that no two teams were checking in at that same time. Tampa Bay was the first in as they traveled the furthest. "You look nervous. Why are you nervous?" Carly's voice came up from behind you as you saw the bus pulling in through the gates.

 "There's a lot riding on this Car, and if anything goes wrong; you know it's going to be my head that rolls."

 "You're going to do great; this whole thing is going to be smooth like a bubble." She started to giggle. "See what I did there…bubble." You rolled your eyes at your friend but did let out a little snort of laughter at her pun. "Well, here they come."

 You straightened your jacket and smoothed down your skirt, before throwing your mask up to go meet your first arrivals. "Gentlemen, welcome to Hotel X." You tried to speak a little louder than normal hoping the mask didn't muffle your words. "We're excited to have you all here. I'm (Y/N) manager here during your stay, anything you need, feel free to call me any time of day." More of the guys filtered in while you spoke to Coach Cooper and a few of the players.

 "Anytime huh?" you heard someone mumble in the background and a couple of the guys snickered. It was hard not to roll your eyes as you knew they were focusing on them with your face partially covered. Someone else said, "She can manage me anytime." That was until someone cleared their throat, effectively silencing them.

 "Now if you'll follow me, let's get you all checked in." Tables lined with a welcome packet and lanyard with their ID on it, were off to the side and you were able to shuffle them through with pretty good speed, then sent them off to their rooms before they had to head to testing. Your information was inside every packet, in case you were needed at any point during their stay. It seemed like you no sooner got them in and the area disinfected then the next team, the Capitals, were pulling in, and so the day went on until all five teams were safely ensconced in the hotel. Thankfully you made it through that process without any problems, even though the Bruins flight was late and the Flyers were pulling in right as you got the last players through.

 It wasn't until dinner, that you encountered your first dilemma, getting a text message from Alexis, who was coordinating the meals. It was a simple message, Get to conference room 3. NOW! As fast as your heels could take you, you headed down to where the Capitals were supposed to be having dinner if you remembered the schedule correctly. You never expected to see what you did though when you entered.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, some mild smut.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: All I can say is: I’m sorry. My head is a strange place.

Chapter 29

  “Marcus!! Oh, get that sweet tush over here and hug me, and you better make it a good one after you’ve neglected to visit my cave for longer than these magic hands care to remember.”

  You already loved Velma.

  “Hey, Vel. I’m sorry, I’ve been preoccupied.”

  He did hug her, and properly too, as well as about 10s longer than what would be considered socially acceptable for mere friends, without either of them seeming to find it weird or awkward at all.   You still loved her.

  “Thank you, my darling. You’re forgiven. Now, tell me what you’ve brought me?”

  He beamed at you. He really did love any opportunity to show you off, but he seemed especially pleased about this introduction.

  “Velma, this is my fiancé. Hermosa, as you’ve undoubtedly gathered – this is the one and only Velma.”

  “Your fi… You’re getting… And you’re here. You brought her to me! Are you…?”

  “Yes. I am. On both counts.”

  “YES!! Thank the Greek fucking Gods!! A wedding-dress, and for you, my darling, of all people! Thank you.”

  “Well, technically it’s for her.”

  “Oh, no, sugar. The dress is for the groom. The shoes – are for the bride.”

  She finally set all of her glorious attention on you.

  Velma was a drag-queen, and the most awe-inspiring individual you’d ever seen. Everything about her was superior. She was taller than anyone else in the room, helped by fucking spectacular plateau shoes, she was broad-shouldered and muscular to boot. She carried herself like an empress, with a kind of stillness and real elegance, despite having so much flare and finesse to her. And even though she was covered in colours and sparkles, she somehow looked like she would belong absolutely anywhere.   And when she actually looked you in the eye, you could almost feel her read the pages of the book that was your life, and yet, there was nothing intimidating about it.

  “Well, now. There’s a lot of story here, isn’t there?”

  “A bit. Yeah.”

  “Mm. Alright then, come with me, darling. I demand to know every little detail about the woman my Marcus has chosen.”

  She turned dramatically, and headed for a side-door in the studio workshop where you were, and you looked at Marcus with a wide grin.

  “She’s coming to the wedding.”

  “Don’t worry – she’s on the list.”

  “I don’t care about any list. She’s coming. I need that amount of sparkle at my wedding. And I’m not just talking about the clothes.”

  He chuckled happily as he watched you literally skip over to the open door, and disappear inside.

-----

  Three weeks later, you finally got around to getting your house sold. It was a fairly quick sale since the neighbourhood was nice and the yard was bigger than most other properties on that street. And since you didn’t really need the extra money, you could give the young couple that fell in love with it, a kind price.   You weren’t really particularly sorry to see it go, but you were very happy to see it fall into the hands of people who would appreciate it. For a long time, that house had been your refuge, your safe harbour when life got hard, and you wished that it could be the same for someone else.   You put the bulk of the money in your savings-account, and ear-marked the rest for wedding-expenses.   There still wasn’t really any actual planning going on, as far as dates and times and venues were concerned. But you and Marcus were still getting through a lot of the stuff that goes on around the actual day.   You’d settled on what colours you wanted for the flowers, and what types they should be. You’d had an almost outrageously fun day last weekend, trying out the recipes for all the wedding-cakes you’d both found online. And after soiling literally every inch of the kitchen with flour, and tasting so many different cakes your taste-buds had eventually given up, you had managed to conclude that you wanted a lemon-flavoured one. Missy had tried to get you onto the chocolate-train, but you’d held your ground, with the promise that there would indeed be chocolate present, just not in the cake.   You’d completed the guest-list, and chosen the invitation cards, but they were safely stowed away in a drawer, still unwritten.   It wasn’t that you were stalling or didn’t feel ready. You were just genuinely enjoying the preparations, and not having that deadline made them feel like they were just fun things to do over a weekend, rather than things you had to do to be ready in time. Especially since Missy loved being a part of it too, it made the whole thing feel like a prolonged family event.

  By now, the only thing that was still on the prep-list was Marcus’ suit, but you’d both agreed not to make any decisions on that until you’d seen what Velma did with your dress.   You’d spent two whole days in her cave, getting your measurements taken and your skin-tone evaluated. There were about a hundred things about your body that she’d wanted to know, but you trusted her with your life already, so you’d happily complied.   Plus; any excuse to spend time with her was a good one.   Work was finally becoming manageable again, as you’d finally caught up on all the stuff that was trailing behind, and you were deliberately keeping any and all new projects firmly steered in other directions or delegating them onto other designers. You had enough on your plate with just getting through the already started ones, on top of the wedding-planning.   Today had been a good day, so far, and you’d decided to go and find Marcus and see if he had time to join you for lunch.   When you approached his office, his door was open and you could hear Tech talking. Not wanting to interrupt, you stopped outside and out of sight, while you waited for their conversation to finish. You picked up your phone to send an e-mail while you waited.

  “I can’t believe that building was still standing after that.”

  “Crushing lost control for three seconds. Let’s just be grateful it wasn’t longer.”

  “Oh, I remember that time back in the beginning when he was out of it for like 20 seconds.”

  “I think most of Colombia remembers that, too.”

  “Probably.”

  “Hey, um. Speaking of losing control…”

  “What?”

  “Well, there’s a certain office on the other side of the building that gets a fair bit of noise-complaints.”

  You snapped out of your e-mailing and instinctively turned your head to listen closer.

  “Stay out of it, Tech.”

  “Hey, I’m not the filing them, and I never will. I’m all for healthy appetites. Just wondering if you’re aware of the fact that a lot of people are talking about you guys?”

  “So? Let ‘em talk.”

  “Sure. But they’re not talking about it being a nuisance or inappropriate. They’re talking about how the hell you can keep it up for three hours straight sometimes. Is that true, though?”

  You weren’t sure if you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you, or if you wanted to go find these people and tell them to mind their own business.   There was a brief pause before Marcus answered, and his voice was a bit lower than before.

  “It is. I seriously can’t get enough of her. Ever. No matter how tired I get, I can always go another round.”

  “That’s kind of amazing. How do you ever get anything done?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Any idea when the knot-tying might be happening?”

  “No. I’m dying to do it, to the point where I have to repeatedly tell myself not to just beg her to go to Vegas with me. But I also really wanna get it right, you know? Not necessarily perfect; just right. Right for us. And I want her to feel ready, so that she can just relax and enjoy that day, whenever it happens.”

  Your heart swelled to an almost painful size behind your ribs.

  “I am ready, honey.”

  You stepped over the threshold and watched as his expression turned from confusion to realisation as he saw you.

  “You wouldn’t have to beg. I’d go to Vegas with you right now if you asked. I’ve told you; I don’t really care how it happens. I’m enjoying the preparations and everything we’re doing together, but even if nothing ever got used, I wouldn’t feel like I missed out on anything. You’re the one that wanted the traditions, remember?”

  Tech excused himself at that point, and closed the door behind him after he left.

  “Do you still want all that, Marcus?”

  He looked so torn.

  “Damned it… Yes. I really do.”

  “Then let’s pick a date. Let’s find a place that feels right and let’s make it happen.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Are you ready?”

  He shot up from his chair and was suddenly holding your waist, staring into your eyes.

  “Ah, mi novia, I’ve been ready for a long time.”

  His hands migrated down to your ass, and you let him squeeze you to him. You were wearing a simple blue summer-dress today, and he quickly found his way underneath it, letting his hands run up your thighs and relieve you of your panties.   Then he pulled you along to the sofas, sitting down and urging you to straddle him.   It was almost strange how calm it was. The two of you were always so heated, so passionate whenever you came together, to the point where it was almost always beyond your control, or at least, on the very edge of it.   But this time, there was no tearing at each other’s clothes. No hands desperately grasping, needing and demanding more. No burning heat that made you feel empty and aching until he entered you.   The heat did come, but gradually. With each caress, each tender kiss and each movement of your bodies together, it slowly built from an ember to a flame.   Your walls actually allowed him to move inside you this time, and as you rocked yourself over him, a completely different kind of pleasure to what you’d become used to with him, built inside your core and seemed to reach towards your heart, instead of your sex.   After a while, he turned you both to the side so he could lay you down and settle himself on top of you, and that feeling that was creeping towards your chest, drastically intensified. He drove into you in long, strong thrusts that buried him as deep as your bodies would allow, each time, and his throat made involuntary little sounds of pleasure every time he returned into your wet and welcoming warmth.   It took you nearly thirty minutes to build to a climax this time, and when it finally hit, it was strong in a completely different way than it ever had been before. Your bodies didn’t curl or clench in on themselves, there were no involuntary power-outbursts, no levitation. But it felt like you were underneath each other’s skin. Like your hearts actually melded into one through the intricate contact of your skin and nerves.   It was utterly overwhelming and there were tears streaming from your eyes throughout the whole climax. And they didn’t stop, even after you’d come back down.   There was no pain or sorrow anywhere inside you in that moment, so you concluded that these were tears of pure love and you made no effort to stop them. You just held him close and waited for the feeling to burn itself out.   He burrowed his face into your neck while you laid there, feeling the tears as they passed over onto his cheek on their way down, but making no comment about them. He knew what they were, and it made him love them too.

  You took a late lunch together, and since the pills were working perfectly and the lab had been able to produce several months-worth already, you could enjoy eating like a normal person these days.   Marcus really did miss your stomach-bear, though, and he would occasionally drop comments like ‘this is one of those moments when mama bear would have roared’, and you felt a little bit sorry for him. It was like he’d lost a puppy.   While you ate, you started discussing what places you thought might be nice for a venue.

  “Churches are nice, but a bit… I hesitate to say ‘stuffy’.”

  “Yeah. They feel so formal, like you’re not allowed to have fun, and I really want us and our guests to feel like we’re allowed to have fun.”

  “Definitely. So, what about restaurants?”

  “Not my thing, if I’m honest, hermosa.”

  “I figured. Pavilion?”

  “Now, we’re talking. A big one, with lots of decorations and a dance-floor!”

  “You and your dancing.”

  “Oh, no; you’re the dancer, remember?”

  “And your foxtrot is adequate, but your waltz needs some work.”

  “Thanks. So, do we know of any potentially available pavilions, or are we gonna have to build one?”

  “Don’t you worry about that, sugar-plum, if it’s a pavilion you’re looking for – I know the perfect one.”

  Velma approached your table, wearing an even more daring outfit than last time you’d seen her. As always, she made a show of eyeing Marcus up and down and making appreciative noises to showcase his hunky-ness. And, as always, Marcus just smiled and let her do her thing.

  “Where is it?”

  “Didn’t I just tell you not to worry? I’ll take you to see it later if you want, but for now – I need to borrow your little cherry, here. Time to dolly you up, hon.”

  “It’s finished?”

  “Literally seconds ago. I came to find you right away, I need to see it on you before I can definitively say that it’s done.”

  Marcus beamed at you both while Velma slipped her arm through yours and led you back to her cave.

  Somehow, you’d expected it to be difficult to get into, or at least require assistance, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t a big or flaunty thing, nor was it heavy or complicated in its design. And yet, there was something so special about it.   It was snow-white with a hint of gold to the shimmer in the fabric, to match the rings. It was an off the shoulder style dress, with long sleeves in the most beautiful lace you’d ever seen, that carried over into the body of the dress as well, though it was purely ornamental there, as the actual body was made from satin.   From the waist down, there was no lace, but tiny golden details had been sewn into the satin and it made the dress come alive somehow.   The skirt was cleverly designed, so that it billowed out just a little, but without getting puffy, and it was still just two layers, making it easy to handle and comfortable to move in. There was no train, but she had made you a vail in the same exquisite lace, in case you decided that you wanted one.

  “Oh, my. Honey… I thought it looked gorgeous on the mannequin, but damn! You make this dress.”

  “It’s perfect, Velma. It’s everything I didn’t know I wanted.”

  “Marcus is gonna swoooooon…”

  “He’s gonna love it.”

  “Well, just make sure to have someone strong standing next to him so they can catch him when he inevitably goes down.”

  You just smiled at her.

  “Oh, and thank you for the shoes. You’re right, I’m gonna love these a lot more than the dress before the night’s over.”

  “You got that right, Cherie.”

  You met up with Marcus as soon as you were done in the cave, and the smile that lit up his face when he saw you carrying the special box that housed the dress, shoes and vail, could have put the sparkles in Velma’s very short skirt to shame.

  “You actually have it? It’s finished?”

  “It’s right in here.”

  He looked positively squirmy with anticipation.

  “And it’s even more beautiful than anything you’ve imagined. Trust me.”

  He chuckled.

  “I do.”

  Velma took you out to see the pavilion she’d mentioned, and it really was perfect. It sat on several acres of green lawns and meadows, with a large pond not too far from the structure. You could have the ceremony out on the grass, overlooking the water, and put up a canopy over the tables and chairs for the dinner and cake. And then move over to the pavilion for the dancing and fun-times. There were huge old oak-trees framing the entire area, giving the whole place a bit of a fairy-tale feeling.

  “Marcus, we have to pick a date. We have to find out if this place is available for us.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that, honey-bun. It’ll be available whenever you want it.”

  Velma gave you this knowing look and you gawked at her.

  “You own this place?”

  “For a long time now. I only use it for very special occasions, and I don’t go blabbering about it to every Joe and Willy looking for a party-house. But for you, my turtle-doves, it’ll always be available.”

  By the time you went to bed that day, you’d not only picked a date, but completed and sent all of the invitations as well.   You were going to get married on the ten-month anniversary of when you first opened your eyes and saw him by your bedside, which gave you roughly a month to get everything ready. And since you had everything pretty much figured out already, that wasn’t going to be a hard deadline to keep.

  Or, so you thought.

  But the day before the wedding came at you like you’d somehow fallen asleep at the wheel going 200mph down the highway.   Suddenly it was all happening. And while you were totally ready emotionally, you were also just not ready over-all, and you woke up that morning feeling sick. Actually sick.   Marcus was too excited to get more than 4h of sleep per night in the week leading up to that day, but he didn’t want to disturb you, so he’d gotten up and left the bedroom some time earlier that morning.   You walked into the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face but it didn’t do much to alleviate the nausea, so you gave up and just got dressed instead.

  “Hey, alma, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sweetie, just feeling a little overwhelmed I guess.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. The wedding is happening, come hell or high water.”

  “Good.”

  “Where’s Marcus?”

  “He got called in to work really early, some crisis with a blue-whale, I think.”

  “Okay, well, then I’ll drive you to school.”

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t just take a sick-day?”

  “I’m not gonna be helped by sitting here wringing my hands all day. Let’s go, Maid of Honour.”

  She smiled at that, but then frowned.

  “You’re not gonna have breakfast?”

  “Kid, I’ll be happy if I can keep the damned pill down this morning.”

  You dropped her off and went to work, intending to treat this like any other Friday. But when you stepped into your office, there was a weird smell that just set off all your senses, and you had to duck over the first available trashcan and vomit. Since your stomach was empty, all that came up was bile, and that somehow made you even more nauseas.

  What the fuck was that smell?

  You abandoned your office and headed for Marcus’ instead. It smelled fine, so you sat down at his computer and used your own login to access your files and get to work.   But after about an hour you’d had to visit his bathroom three times as your stomach continued to try and cough up shit that wasn’t even there, and you gave up, and headed down to medical.

  You had just intended to ask for some anti-nausea medication, but because of your medical history, they insisted on an exam to rule out any possible delayed complications.

  You left medical in a daze, not even realising where you were going before you found yourself back in Marcus’ office.   You sat down in one of the sofas and just waited. You didn’t dare to even try and feel anything without him there, because you were afraid that you might suddenly feel way too much, and you needed him to be there, to keep you calm if that happened.   Some time later, Crushing ducked his head in and had to almost shout to get your attention.

  “Huh… What?”

  “I said, Marcus went home straight from the mission, two hours ago, he had something he wanted to get done for tomorrow. So, there’s no need to wait for him here.”

  “Oh. What time is it?”

  “Almost five.”

  “Shit…”

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “I hope so. Yes. I mean, yes.”

  “Want me to take you home?”

  “No, I’ll be fine, thanks Crush.”

  You drove home being almost ridiculously cautious and you laughed a little at yourself when you parked the car, next to Marcus’.   You were surprised to find the front door locked. You never locked the door when you were home. They must have gone out on foot for some reason.   Fishing your keys out of your bag, you unlocked it and stepped inside, and you were just about to call out to see if anyone was home, when you heard a sound that made every hair on your body stand straight up.   It was a mechanical sound, a machine of some sort. You couldn’t identify it, but your body sure as hell remembered it.   Walking into the living room, a fear unlike anything you’d ever felt before, flooded every cell inside of you.   Your own blood rushing in your ears drowned out the sound of your keys and handbag falling to the floor, as you tried to take in what you were seeing.

  Tubes… wires… computers… machines… bags of liquids… chairs that weren’t chairs but fucking instruments of torture. Two of them. One for Marcus… and one for Missy.   And right in between them – Dr. Prince.

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​ @farfromjustordinary @allmyspideys @hrk-fic-recs @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts @computeringturtle @sarahjkl82-blog

[fishingforyolos]

That Awkward Moment When...

What if Dean got Castiel back from the Empty, and DIDN’T confess his love right away? What if instead, Dean and Cas just...didn’t know how to bring it up to one another, and forced Sam to endure the most intense third-wheel moment that he’s ever experienced, while these two emotionally constipated dumbasses sat in awkward silence?

This is here to answer that question.

________________________________________

Ahem.

It was the fourth time within two minutes that Dean had cleared his throat, and pretended to look out the window.

Sam was counting, now, in a desperate bid to distract from the incredible, palpable awkward silence emanating from the front seat of the car.

He had given Cas the front as a KIND gesture. He was being nice! It was only FAIR that the guy who had just escaped from super mega turbohell got to have a free pass at riding shotgun.

Or, so he thought. When he sidled into the backseat an hour ago, he did not anticipate the absolutely lethal levels of weird that Cas and Dean would be radiating—all pretending not to look at each other, conspicuous rubbing of the back of their necks, and god DAMN it Dean was fake-looking out the window AGAIN! There was nothing out there but corn, Dean!! Corn for miles!!!

Sam sat back and groaned. This was one of the most intolerable hours that he had ever witnessed in this godforsaken car, and that was saying something.

He allowed himself to drift off into his thoughts, letting his analytical side take over. Whatever it was, it probably happened in the bunker, right before Cas was taken by the Empty. Dean had been very...vague, about that situation, which only made Sam all the more curious. What could they have SAID to each other? Sam was no stranger to having a tense relationship with Castiel, but...if they were mad at each other, they’d be doing that stupid stony-faced silent treatment. But no, they both seemed too full of nervous energy. Cas was currently rifling through the glovebox, of all goddamn things, and Dean was toggling the blinker back and forth on a two-lane highway.

Click, click. Click, click. Click, click.

“Are these...salted?” asked Castiel, holding up a box of bullets as if they were a sale item at Costco.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” said Dean taking a quick glance, “We bought those for the uh...for the ghosts.”

“I see,” said Castiel, nodding for just a bit too long.

Click, click. Click, click. Click, click.

Sam scrubbed his face with his hands. He had been to hell before, but listening to bad small talk was its own special kind of hell. What happened in that bunker room that would make them behave like-

Like-

Sam’s mouth fell open.

Like the awkward morning after.

“Oh, my God,” Sam blurted, before he could stop himself, “Did-did you two have a one-night stand?”

Castiel dropped the box of bullets.

Dean choked on nothing.

“Sam, what the HELL?!” he coughed.

“Well, SORRY,” Sam said, in a way that he hoped conveyed how NOT sorry he was, “But you guys are acting, uhhh, really weird, and I thought maybe, I dunno-”

He shrugged, and held his hands up in defense against Dean’s murderous glare, “I thought maybe you hooked up! Y’know, last night on earth style!”

“Wha-no. No, no, no,” Dean said again, gesturing forcefully with one hand before pointing directly at Sam, “That’s-that’s not what happened in there.”

“Indeed,” Castiel murmured lowly, throwing a glance to the backseat, “I can assure you, it was worse.”

Dean nearly swerved off the road.

Sam’s jaw fell open again, eyes flicking from Dean to Cas. “W-WORSE?!”

“Oh my FUCKING god,” Dean whispered into the steering wheel.

“What I mean is, it was more...personally humiliating. To me,” Castiel clarified.

Sam blinked several times, trying to process this new bit of information. 

“But I thought...you said, that the Empty's deal was about you experiencing happiness,” Sam said, shifting back into analytical mode, “Does it make an...exception, for humiliation?”

He sat back and grimaced, as he weighed the horrible possibility in his mind. “Is it into that??”

“W-well,” stuttered Castiel, his gravelly voice betraying his discomfort, “Regardless of the...preferences, sexual or otherwise, of the Empty-”

Dean suddenly slammed the steering wheel with his palm.

“Can you two PLEASE, shut up?!” he roared, “And let me fucking DRIVE in PEACE?!”

Sam and Cas fell silent, the atmosphere of the Impala even more tense than before.

Sam put his head in his hands. God, he should have just kept his mouth shut. Or maybe, he should have just taken shotgun in the first place, and stuck Cas in the back. Would've saved everyone all this trouble, maybe.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel said, finally breaking the silence.

Sam pursed his lips in annoyance. He could already tell, simply by the look on Cas’ face, that this was going to be another heart-to-heart where they completely forgot he existed. 

Dean, meanwhile, didn’t react.

“I…” Castiel sighed, “I don’t...mean to make things awkward, it’s just that I didn’t-I never expected to SEE you again.”

“Really, Cas?” Dean exploded, “Really? After all we’ve been through, after all the times we’ve dragged each other out of the clutches of-of Hell, Heaven, you name it, you didn’t-you didn’t even consider the POSSIBILITY that we’d get you out?”

“Of course I considered it,” Castiel said quietly, “It was my most desperate desire."

He sat back, and turned to direct his gaze out the window.

“But there is a sort of...freedom, in confessing directly before death,” Castiel said, speaking a fog onto the window with each word, “All the vulnerability...none of the consequences.”

Sam’s eyes flew wide open as it all finally clicked. 

No way. No way. NO WAY.

He shot up straight, incredulity plastered across his face that the other two were too preoccupied to notice.

DId Castiel...confess his feelings in that bunker? Make a move? Shoot his shot? And then DIE?! 

What the fuck, Cas?

Sam sat back, reeling, running his fingers through his hair as Dean and Cas continued to stare out separate windows. He quite literally didn’t think he would LIVE to see the day that they acknowledged their...thing, and now they were doing it right in front of his eyes.

“I...I meant what I said, Dean,” Castiel said, fixing Dean’s profile with a longing stare, “Every single word. And I still do.”

Sam turned back toward Dean, hunched defensively over the wheel of the Impala. He still wouldn’t look at Cas. 

Please, Sam prayed silently, Don’t fuck this up.

“But, I’m acutely aware that it made things different between us,” Castiel sighed, “And I’m sorry for that. I can’t take it back. However-”

“I love you.”

If he wasn’t literally watching Dean’s mouth move as he said it, Sam wouldn’t have believed his ears. Holy shit.

He whipped his head back to Castiel, who was stopped in his tracks like a deer in headlights.

Even the rain, beating against the windshield at 70 miles an hour, didn’t dare interrupt the moment at hand.

Dean was still staring out at the road, hands gripping the wheel like he was clinging to sanity itself.

“You didn’t let me say it back,” Dean said through gritted teeth, “In the bunker, you just-you dropped that on me, and then you were GONE, and you didn’t even let me say it back.”

Sam’s mouth was agape once again, eyes flicking back and forth between his brother and the equally speechless angel. The air between them was charged, and ready for a lightning strike.

“W-when you say that,” Castiel said, after a solid ten seconds of trying to find his voice, “Do you-do you mean it-”

Dean DID swerve off the road this time, sending Sam sprawling across the backseat as he skidded to a stop on the shoulder.

“Ow! Dean, what the-”

“Yeah, Castiel,” Dean said, finally taking his eyes off the road to fix him with a wild look, “I mean it. Same way you did. When you said that-that the one thing you wanted, you couldn’t have, it-it didn’t make any sense, because I always thought that I was the one wanting what I couldn’t-who I couldn't-”

He sniffled.

“Fuck, I didn’t want to do this in the CAR,” Dean said, wiping his eyes, “Not in front of Sammy.”

“Honestly? I prefer this over the past miserable hour,” Sam said, leaning back, “Do what you gotta do, man. Just...pretend I’m not here.”

Dean actually chuckled at that, but turned his attention back to Cas, who was still blinking in shock.

“Cas, you...you gotta understand,” Dean said carefully, reaching across the seat and cupping Cas’ cheek in a hand, “Come hell or high water, you have me.”

He swallowed hard. “You don’t have to...to want, I-I’m yours, a-already in the bag. Got it?”

Tears tracked down Castiel’s face as he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to stop a wide, tearful smile from spreading across his face.

Dean visibly softened, and brought Castiel’s face in, kissing him right on the mouth.

Sam hoped he wouldn't come to regret the "do what you gotta do" comment, but they broke apart just a moment later to touch foreheads like a couple of saps.

“...Yaaay, congratulations!” Sam said, waving celebratory arms in the air as widely as he could in the cramped backseat. He searched around him and found some crumpled receipts, which he tossed into the front seat. “Whoo! Confetti!”

“Sam…” Dean said, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“I appreciate your jubilation, Sam,” Castiel said, dead seriously, looking back at him with just his eyes, “Your approval means a lot to me.”

"Hey,” Sam said, clapping Castiel on the shoulder, “This changes nothing. You're still like a brother to me, man. You’re still family." 

Cas smiled at him. “Thank you, Sam.”

“Aww, look at that smile, Sammy,” Dean said, tapping Cas on the cheek, “Look at it! How could anybody resist that smile?”

“I dunno, Dean, it’s pretty easy when you’re not in love with him,” Sam smiled.

“Welp,” shrugged Dean casually, as he shifted the car back into drive, “Guess I wouldn’t know, then.”

Sam was taken aback by the...ease, with which all that just rolled off of Dean’s tongue. 

“God,” Sam groaned, “You’re going to be an INSUFFERABLE couple.”

Dean just laughed, light and loud, as he merged back onto the highway, offering out his right hand.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Castiel said, taking the offered hand with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, "But as you can see, I cannot resist his charm."

Sam rolled his eyes at that, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. It was insufferable, yes, and Sam was going to have to have a LONG talk with Dean later, but...for now, he just laughed, as the tension bled out of the car, and Dean FINALLY turned on the stereo, letting the soothing sound of Led Zeppelin carry them into a lighter mood.

Sam took a deep breath, and let it out slow. Maybe sometimes, good things do happen.