#you can’t convince me that’s not what Alex wore to set

[quiddie]

I am SO EXCITED TO WATCH THIS CIRCLE! It’s going to be amazing - what a stacked goddamn cast!

Also hey @noshirdalal! D’you see those mohawks? OUR LEGACY. 😤

This is not a drill! Circle of the Crimson Mirror trailer! This chapter features Aimee Carrero, Imari Williams, Alexander Ward, and Taliesin Jaffe with Gamemaster Liam O'Brien! You can also check out the official blog post announcement, which says the circle "will teeter on the edge of survival as their present collides with the threats of a forgotten past…"

As previously announced, the chapter premieres February 29, 2024. Episodes two and three are now confirmed to release March 28 and April 25.

[fqlling4it]

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) part 2 | max verstappen x best friend! reader

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomez, and others

yourusername much needed rest and relaxation over the break (with some extra special family time)

view all 2,832 comments

user732 posting for the first time in months after dropping THAT song is diabolical

↳ user82 her saying she’ll wait for his love is actually kinda insane because i’d be groveling on my knees if she showed the slightest bit of interest in me

lilymhe oh my beautiful, beautiful girl

↳ yourusername love you lily <3

user81 i know that second single’s gonna hit like crack

↳ user4 praying everyday for her to release again

georgerussell63 pops finally made the gram?

↳ yourusername took lots and lots of convincing for me to be able to post this georgie

francolapinto muuyyyy linda 😘

↳ yourusername i’m a little too old for you sweetheart

christianhorner make sure to tell that boy of yours thank you for winning you the bear

↳ yourusername papa, this is not how instagram works…. everyone can see this

user63 christian outing his daughter about having a boyfriend was not on my 2024 bingo card 😭

↳ user33 diabolical move on his part, but now i’m nosy and wanna know who

francisca.cgomes i’ve missed you, come by soon ☹️💔

↳ yourusername will be over as soon as possible

yourusername added to their story!

[caption 1: night out with my girl! francisca.cgomes]

[caption 2: always third wheeling these two pierregasly francisca.cgomes]

view story replies

francisca.cgomes you could’ve brought him with you bubs

↳ it’s still new, didn’t want to force him into something he might not be comfortable with… he only met pops because of work

user72 y/n’s so me, always third wheeling my friend and her boyfriend </3

user44 two pretty girls omg

carlossainz55 could’ve invited me hermosa, would’ve been a nice double date

↳ next time then, just wasn’t sure if you were ready to officially officially meet my friends <3

alexandrasaintmleux no boyfriend appearance?

↳ keeping it low key… wasn’t sure if he was ready to meet everyone as my boyfriend yet

francisca.cgomes added to their story!

[caption 1: picked up alex and forced pierre to be our photographer]

[caption 2: when she gets a text back so she has to set her phone down and scream]

carlossainz55 glad i have that effect on her, tell her to answer me though </3

↳ still screaming, will text you back when she’s done

user44 literally me when i get a text from my man 🧍‍♀️

user81 three baddies in one picture 🧎‍♀️‍➡️

maxverstappen1 who was she texting???

↳ it’s none of your business max, stop meddling

incoming messages from max!

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and others

carlossainz55 what a great way to end a three week break, love spending time with mi sol. ¡vamos vegas!

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user72 y/n in the likes, my yncarlos truthers RISE!

↳ user63 so delusional oh my god

yourusername viva las vegas!

↳ carlossainz55 viva las vegas!

charles_leclerc sad to be out last triple header as teammates brother, i’ll be keeping you around

↳ carlossainz55 gonna miss you hermano, we’ll race hard for ferrari

user65 can’t believe it’s carlos’ last few races in a ferrari 💔

↳ user55 and if i say perez is out so the redbull seat is open and carlos goes to redbull and franco stays at williams 😁

↳ user65 delusion at its finest

maxverstappen1 ready to go in vegas 🙌

↳ carlossainz55 see you there

user23 you know who else went golfing with lily during the break? y/n!

↳ user61 that doesn’t mean y/n was there when carlos was with lily and alex, you sound delusional

yourusername added to their story!

[caption 1: the only professional ever took me golfing lilymhe]

[caption 2: he got jealous, so my man took me golfing too (:]

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user732 man???? i thought maybe your dad was joking… oh my god

user61 hmmm… interesting…. is that perhaps carlos sainz? who wore that same outfit in the pictures he posted on his insta… suspicious 🤨

carlossainz55 i was not jealous hermosa.. just wanted you to remember how good i am at golf

↳ oh of course amor, you just wanted to show off your golfing skills… so what if i post a picture of us when i announce my new song? are you okay with that?

carlossainz55 sounds amazing hermosa, i’ll post you too.. wanna show off my girl

lilymhe oh you two are so cute

↳ you missed it!!!! when we went to go find my ball he told me he loves me… i melted on the spot lils, he’s so sweet 🥲🥰

christianhorner oh baby, i hope you’re having a wonderful break. tell carlos to stop by hospitality on media day, we’ve got some things to discuss

↳ thank you papa! i’ll make sure to remind him

user81 oh that’s so cute

user94 lily and y/n >>>>>

user01 the fit though

maxverstappen1 is that who i think it is?? you’re with carlos??

↳ please max, it’s none of your business… can’t you just be happy for me?

maxverstappen1 i am happy for you schatje, i hope he treats you well

↳ so well! i love him max… so so much

user344 imagine being max and fumbling the baddest bitch and almost losing your championship to someone with three race wins

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername dinner dates with my man <3 (new song eternal sunshine out friday!)

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user61 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT AND I GOT CALLED DELUSIONAL FOR SAYING IT

carlossainz55 bonitaaa

carlossainz55 hermosa 😍😍😍

carlossainz55 te amo mi sol

↳ yourusername te amo guapo

lilymhe and the cutest couple award goes to… carlos and y/n

↳ yourusername ahhhh i love you lily <3

alexandrasaintmleux oh you two are just the cutest

↳ yourusername thank you alex, love you <3

maxverstappen1 so happy for the two of you, congratulations!

↳ yourusername thank you max, it truly means a lot

user743 ok but they’re so cute together

user392 newest ferrari wag but only for three race weekends ☹️

↳ user16 you act like she’s dying, they’re just moving teams

christianhorner so happy for you baby! i love you princess ❤️

↳ yourusername thank you papa, i love you too. make sure to tell geri we’ll visit soon <3

carlossainz55 added to their story!

[caption 1: paddock days with my girl]

[caption 2: a win in vegas with the best company]

f1

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and others

f1 carlos sainz to join oracle redbull racing for the 2025 season after sergio perez retires! franco colapinto will take sainz’s seat at williams for the 2025 season

view all 10,382 comments

carlossainz55 so so grateful for this opportunity!

user55 i literally predicted this ????

↳ yourusername please predict carlos winning wdc 2025, thanks girlie 🥰🙏

user23 so so happy for him!

user82 oh this is amazing news!

maxverstappen1 can’t wait to be teammates mate!

↳ carlossainz55 so excited to be teammates again hermano

charles_leclerc happy for you brother!

↳ carlossainz55 thank you charles, double date with the girls soon!

user44 oh wow

christianhorner excited for next year! wcc is ours! work hard boys!

yourusername added to their story!

[caption 1: eternal sunshine out now 🌞]

[caption 2: my eternal sunshine ☀️ carlossainz55]

[myveryownfanfiction]

Chapter 10

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

Warnings: obsession, mention of flying, drinking (legal)

AN: So we're coming to the end. this is the last chapter on this story. Thanks for coming on this trip with me.

Song: Bite Me by Avril Lavigne

When the plane landed at Heathrow airport, I couldn't wait to get off the plane. Flying was the worst thing I ever did. But that didn't mean that I wasn't excited to see everything John had to show me. Our first stop was the hotel, where John and I properly celebrated our graduation. Chas was due to meet us in about a week up in Liverpool and the suspense was killing us. I had let John dress me like a typical punk and I was loving every second of it. He still wore his normal shirt and tie, something I was trying to convince him to ditch.

"Come on John! I want to see what you look like!" I whined as John dug through his suitcase. "Be a punk with me! We are going to a punk show aren't we?" I rolled over onto my stomach as John laughed. he shook his head and grabbed our tickets. “Where is this show anyway?” John dangled a set of car keys in my face.

“Newcastle.” I stared at him blankly. “Just trust me. This will be amazing.”

“Alright alright. How long will we be on the road?” John shrugged. I pulled out my phone and googled it as John led me out to the car. “5 hours?! 5 hours John?!” He laughed as he held open my door.

“why do you think we are leaving so early?” He smiled at me sweetly as I stood next to him. “Oh come on luv. It won’t be that bad. In the end it will be so worth it.” I rolled my eyes and kissed him on the cheek.

“you’re so lucky I love you.” I plopped down in the passenger seat and settled in for the long drive. It didn’t last as long as I thought it would. John made sure to keep me entertained the entire ride. When we got to Newcastle, John quickly found the venue and John greeted the bouncer.

“Can you tell Alex louge John constantine is here to see him?” I raised an eyebrow but followed the two in front of me none the less. We descended into the basement of the club. There was a small group of people already gathered there. “Alex!” John let go of my hand and greeted the man in front of us. The two hugged and I got a look at Alex louge. He was taller than John with long dark hair and tattoos spanning his arms and back.

“constantine! How good of you to finally join us!” My eyes trailed over to see Chas standing in the corner, a small scowl on his face.

“Chas!” I ran over to him and hugged him tight. ”I thought you were going to meet us in London next week!” Chas gave me a smile before putting a finger to his lips.

“I was. But I decided to come here first meet up with Alex. He’s the lead singer of the punk band john got tickets for. But he’s doing some insanely dark magic. Magic that’s starting to affect him and his daughter.“ he told me in a hushed voice. I looked over at the man John was still talking to.

”so you’re the reason we came out here.” Chas nodded and gave me a sad look.

“I’m sorry. I heard John had gotten pretty good. I thought maybe he could save astra from this guy.” I nodded sympathetically. ”he’s summoning demons and letting them do what they want with her. I’m scared she’s going to get killed.” John was walking over with Alex.

”you must be (Y/N). Johns been telling me all about you. I could barely get a word In to tell him what were doing here after the show tonight.” I nodded and took the outstretched hand that was thrown my way.

“that I am. Chas has been filling me in About you. I can’t wait to hear your band.” Alex smirked at me and turned to John, clapping his hand down on johns shoulder. John jumped at the contact.

“you got a great person here john. Never heard of me but still tries to please.“ John gave me a look before turning back to the other two men standing around.

“gaz, Richie this is (y/n).” He introduced me. I shook their hands and joined their conversation for a bit while Chas talked to Alex. john Looked around after a couple minutes. “Where’s Anna Marie?” I raised an eyebrow.

”who?” John gave me a kiss on the temple and laughed.

“She’s an old friend. We used to run together and bunch of runaways and nerdowells. did a little magic here and there too. An exorcism.“ Gary explained. I raised an eyebrow at John who just shrugged with a small smirk. ”there she is.” we turned to see her enter the basement. She bypassed Alex and joined our little group.

“alright I’m here. Where’s the kid?” Richie motioned for her to follow him, leaving us to cover their quick exit.

“what’s the plan here? And what part do I have in this?” John gave me a slightly sad smile.

“you keep astra away from Alex. We take care of the demons he’s calling on and stop whatever it is that’s causing him to do this.” I nodded as Richie popped back in.

“(y/n), maybe you should meet astra before all this goes down.“ he whispered. I nodded and followed him We entered a room off to the side where Anna Marie was sitting with a young girl. “astra? This is (y/n). They’re going to be with you when it starts.“ the young girl nodded and I offered her my hand to shake.

”you’re with John constantine.“ she said matter of factly after shaking my hand. I nodded. “youre going to keep me safe?” Again I nodded. Sitting down next to Anna Marie, we chatted while we waited for the boys to finish up.

Alex appeared in the doorway and all I could do was grab hold of astra. It was like time had slowed down. The floor started to glow and flames flew up around the two of us. Anna Marie stumbled from the room and ran for John. Alex was speaking a different language and I tucked astras head under my chin, squeezing my eyes tight, waiting for whatever horror had started to end. I heard johns voice, calling out for something and succeeding. I saw a large form take shape behind us. It took less than a second for Johns smile to become a frown. john ran forward and grabbed the two us.

“you can’t have them!” He screamed. He held tight but it wasn’t enough. I felt claws sink into my shoulder and rip my clothes. Holding onto John the best I could, I gave him a kiss.

“I’ll take care of her John. She’ll be ok.” It was the best I could do. I wasn’t mad. I wasn’t happy either but John had done his best for a novice. “I love you.” I squeezed my eyes shut again as astra and I got ripped back. The darkness was everlasting.

[bruhlsbees]

THAT SHIT HURTED PLS SAY YOUR WORKING ON SOMETHING SEROTONIN GIVING NEXT

yes.....no......maybe??? idk here is a soft moment between alex and reader pre-goodbye, lenin!

at the cabin || alex kerner x fem!reader

summary: you spend the weekend with alex at his family cabin

pairing: alex kerner x fem!reader

word count: 1,429

warnings: sexual tension???? maybe????? maybe spoilers for garden of eden???

a/n: pls accept this soft moment as pay for what is to come in the fic - yes this also gives away some of alex's own thoughts towards reader so now the real question is.....what happened from this point to where we are in garden of eden.....

It was Alex’s idea to go to his old family cabin for the weekend to celebrate graduating from school. He wanted to do something just the two of you and after convincing his mother that you two weren’t going to do anything stupid, she finally agreed.

“Mama, please, she’s been Alex’s friend for years. If they were doing stuff, don’t you think we’d know?” Ariane questioned from her spot at the dining table, pausing from her cup of coffee.

“Ariane!” Alex whined, glaring at Ariane who could only laugh. He shook his head and returned his gaze back to his mother who was ironing one of her shirts, “Mama, her grandparents said it was fine. It’ll only be for the weekend.”

You were seated on the couch, watching as Christiane continued to iron, sitting in thought before finally stopping, propping the iron up so it wouldn’t burn her shirt and looking at Alex, then you, then back at Alex.

“I want you to call me when you get there, I don’t want anyone else there and for the love of all - Alex, don’t get her pregna-”

“Mama!”

You couldn’t help the snicker that came from you, looking over at Ariane who was trying to stifle her own laugh. Alex and you were nothing more than friends, and part of you wondered if Christiane really did know and just liked to see her poor son get riled up.

It didn’t take much more convincing after that. Christiane meeting your grandparents and both exchanging phone numbers, giving you the rundown on how ‘one mistake can lead to a lifetime of being a parent’. God, did they have to be so serious?

So when you finally arrived at the cabin, you didn’t even let Alex stop the car you borrowed from you grandfather, jumping out of the car and running in to be the first to grab the room you wanted. You had hardly made it down the hall before you heard Alex trampling in behind you, catching you by your waist and pulling you down to the floor before you could grab the master bedroom.

You let out a string of giggles as he held you down by your waist, his fingers sinking into your hips as he hovered over you, panting from the heat. When he began to tickle you, making you squirm under him, your face began to grow red.

“A-Alex! Please, stop!” You pleaded through your laughs, leaning up and into his chest, trying to push him off you, but your hands only seemed to cling to the front of his shirt, hoping that he would stop before you began to cramp up.

And he finally did, slowly his fingers stopped digging into your waist and fell to your thighs, pulling back to look at you. Your eyes were glazed over with tears from laughing so hard, your mouth slacked open to catch your breath.

“You’re a punk.” You breathed, shaking your head before grinning as he leaned in, kissing your cheek before pulling back and standing up, picking up his bag and extending his hand out to help you up and heading with you into the master bedroom.

“If Mama knew we were sharing a bed, I think she’d fall into a coma.” He noted, watching as you threw your own bag onto the ground before taking the right side of the bed, patting the space down beside you for him to lay down. He did, climbing in the bed before laying on his stomach, head resting against you while you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Well, that’s why we aren’t telling Mama, now, are we?” You smiled and ran your thumb down the side of Alex’s face, tucking his hair behind his ear while he closed his eyes, leaning into your side more as he enjoyed the moment. It was hot, too hot to be laying in bed and having him on you, but you’d suffer through the heat to have him close.

It was wrong of you, you knew that, to have a crush on your best friend. But it was Alex and Alex was, well Alex. He was perfect in every way imaginable and you couldn’t help but fall for him - any girl would if they took the time to really get to know him. While you wished more people would appreciate Alex for who he was, you were glad that you had him to yourself...whether that was selfish of you or not.

“Did you pack your suit?” Alex asked you suddenly, pushing himself off of you and the bed, moving to his bag to pull out his swim trunks, “I’m sweating, I think we should go swimming.”

You watched as he headed out of the room, going into the bathroom to change into his suit, not giving you the time to decline the idea of swimming. You’d be a fool though to say no given how hot it was out.

Pushing yourself out of bed, you dug through your bag and pulled out your suit, pushing off your clothes that you wore out to the cabin and slipping on your bottoms, adjusting the top before reaching your arms behind you to tie up the strings.

You weren’t sure if it was the heat or if you were just a fool to triple knot your suit the last time you had been swimming, but you were struggling awfully to untie the suit and retie it so it would fit you better. Groaning, your fingers fumbled at the knot, desperately trying to dig your nails in to loosen it up.

“Hey! You read-”

Jumping in your spot, you clung to the front of your top and turned, seeing Alex standing in the doorway, mouth open as he tried to turn his attention elsewhere, feeling guilty now for barging in on you while you were still getting ready.

“Sorry, I-” Alex couldn’t find the words, the only thing falling from his mouth were stutters and hums. You shook your head, waving him off before turning back around, lifting your hair up.

“If it weren’t so hot I’d probably lecture you on not knocking, but please, can you just help me tie this up? I tied it too many times last time. It’s stuck.” You explained, glancing over your shoulder to him.

At first Alex had to really process what you were asking of him. He had seen you only a handful of times in a suit, but the heat exhaustion was really playing with him today. When he finally came back from his thoughts, he crossed the room quickly and his fingers found the back of your suit, his knuckles grazing your back as he slowly untied the strings.

He felt his breath hitch into his throat, staring down the curve of your back as it led into your bum. Alex tried to keep his eyes focused on the knot he was tying, trying to not get distracted by your ass and how good it looked in your swim bottoms.

No, no this is wrong. She’s your best friend, you can’t be looking at her like this.

It was the same mantra he had to tell himself like all times before since becoming your friend.

You were his best friend.

Nothing would happen between you.

He had to let you go.

But he didn’t want to. No, he didn’t want you to be with any other guy, he wanted you to be with him. So why couldn’t it just be that easy? Was he scared of the possibility of you turning him down if he told you how he felt? Yes, and he couldn’t lose you.

And if you knew how he had been thinking all this time, things would be different. Of course they would be different, you wouldn’t be standing in front of him practically shaking because of how your stomach flipped when you felt his fingers lightly graze against your skin. If things were different, how you wish they were, maybe then you’d finally be able to-

“There, all set,” You heard Alex announce, taking a step back from behind you and watching you drop your hair down, turning to look at him. He had a small smile on his face, looking you once over before motioning towards the door, “Come on, let’s get going, yeah?”

You nodded in agreement and smiled, following behind him as the two of you headed out of the cabin and outside to the backyard to finally enjoy the cool water on the hot summer day.

[bibbawrites]

What’s In A Name - Dad!Owen x Pregnant!Female Reader

Request: NONE

Word Count: 1028 words 

Summary: Part 3 of the Dad!Owen series, the gender reveal plus you and Owen spend some quality time discussing names for Baby Joyner 

Warnings: none? one use of the word dumbass lol i think that’s all?

A/N: part 3 here we go! i just thought this would be a cute little one to write (and yes it is little, sorry that its so short!), the gender reveal plus just chatting about baby names the name that you guys chose as the winner is in here but you won’t find out which one it actually is until she’s born hehe

if you have any ideas of what you’d like to see in the dad!owen series feel free to send them my way! 

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added, removed or if you change your url): @happinessinthedarkesttimes�� @littlemissaddict @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @headheartbellarke @lovesanimals​ @bartok-the-bat @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 

Time had flown since you had found out you were pregnant. It seemed like only yesterday that you were staring at those two pink lines on the pregnancy test, not knowing what was going on, and now you were getting ready to find out gender of the little baby inside you. 

Owen had been convinced the entire pregnancy that you were having a girl, telling everyone you knew, and frankly, you were worried what would happen if the confetti that exploded out wasn’t baby pink. 

You sighed, resting your hand on your tiny bump. There was no changing it now, Owen would just have to deal with it. 

“Y/N, you almost ready?” Owen’s voice came from the other side of the door and you took a deep breath. 

“Yeah I’m ready.” You opened the door, smiling when you found your boyfriend in the pastel pink hoodie he wore as Alex. He scanned your own outfit, a white dress with both pink and blue flowers on it. 

“Didn’t want to pick a side?” He teased, pulling you into a soft kiss, his hand going straight to your stomach. You smiled against his lips. 

“You know me, the indecisive bitch.” You replied and he giggled slightly. 

“If you’re ready to go we should head out. Charlie and Sav said to be there by 11 and it’s 10:30 now.” He told you and you nodded. 

The little gender reveal was going to be happening on set. You all spent most of your time there and you both figured that it was the perfect place to find out what the baby was. 

You linked your hand with Owen’s and the two of you headed out of the apartment and down to Owen’s car. 

In less than an hour you would know the gender of the baby. 

Kenny had allowed Savannah and Charlie to deck out the garage with decorations, and the two of them had set up the perfect little gender reveal, with balloons and streamers and tiny cupcakes. 

You smiled as you took in the sight. Savannah grinned at you from across the room, rushing over quickly to pull you into a hug. 

“I can’t wait for you to find out, it’s been killing Charlie and I.” She said and you laughed. The decision had been made to let both Savannah and Charlie find out the gender so that they could plan the party and you knew that they could both be trusted with the secret. 

“Well its finally time.” You replied, glancing around at the cast members who had filled the room, all wearing various shades of pink, blue or both, and both your family and Owen’s family on facetime calls being held by Jeremy. 

“Everyone ready?” You asked loudly, and everyone cheered in response. You joined Owen in the middle of the room, taking one of the confetti poppers from his hand. 

“Speech!” Charlie called from the side of the room and you and Owen exchanged a look. 

“Okay, well, we just wanna say thank you to everyone for being here and celebrating Baby Joyner, and we love you all.” Owen said. You nodded. 

“Also thank you to Sav and Char for setting this up.” You added, smiling at your two best friends. 

“Okay, are we gonna do this?” Owen looked at you. You smiled. 

“Let’s do it.” You agreed. “You guys wanna give us a countdown?” 

“Three!” 

“Two!”

“One!” 

On one both you and Owen twisted the poppers, and instantly the room was filled with shiny pink confetti.

“I knew it!” Owen exclaimed, picking you up and spinning you around as you laughed loudly. He placed you down and you pulled him in for a kiss. 

“You were right.” You said, grinning as the rest of the cast rushed in to engulf you in big group hug. You couldn’t stop smiling, the overwhelming feeling of love was insane. 

You could feel Owen’s hands on your stomach and you shut your eyes for a second. 

You were having a baby girl. 

And you couldn’t wait to meet her. 

Later that evening you and Owen were curled up in your bed, Nickelodeon playing softly on the TV since Owen insisted his little girl be “educated on good kids TV”. 

Owen had his head resting in your lap and his arms were wrapped around your tiny baby bump. You ran a hand through his hair and smiled. 

“You know, now that we know for certain she’s a girl, we should probably start talking about names.” You spoke up. Owen glanced up at you. 

“This suddenly just feels really real.” He admitted softly. You lent down and kissed the top of his head. 

“Don’t stress, it’s okay.” You whispered. He smiled slightly. 

“I know it will be. Cause we’re doing this together, and everything is always okay when we’re together.” He said and you rolled your eyes. 

“Calm down Romeo.” You teased and he giggled. “So, names?”

He pulled a face as he thought. 

“I’ve always liked the name Theo.” He said after a second. “Theo Joyner.” 

“Cute.” You replied, still playing with his hair. “What about Carla or Ella?” 

“I like them. I also like Aurora, like the princess.” Owen smiled. You giggled. 

“Okay Prince Charming.” You said and Owen groaned. 

“That’s Cinderella’s prince, dumbass. Aurora’s prince was Prince Phillip.” He told you and you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“Oh I’m sorry Mr Disney Princess expert.” You retorted and Owen grinned. “Any other names?” 

Owen paused again. 

“What about Olivia? Ooh or Diana.” He suggested. 

“Ooh I like them. Diana’s a bit unusual nowadays though, where’d you get that from?” You questioned. Owen looked away guiltily. 

“The One Direction song.” He admitted and you laughed. 

“Of course. Olivia too, right?” You asked and he nodded. You shook your head slightly. 

“You’re such a dork Owen Patrick Joyner.” You said and he grinned up at you. 

“But I’m your dork, right?” He tried, and you nodded. 

“And baby girl’s dork.” You added, and he smiled, squeezing his arms around your bump gently. 

You lent down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“And we wouldn’t change you for the world.” 

[adorethedistance]

Something to Lose - Luke Patterson X Covington!Reader

JATP masterlist

Requested: luke imagine idea so Luke’s old gf is dead and she’s calebs daughter and is trying to get him to stay with her instead of cross over and then he doenst show up in stand tall . I just had this idea and near had a fit trying to get it down love ur writing also 💖

Warnings: angst, a lot of crying, I don’t even think there’s swearing in this one.

Words: 2293

A/n: I hope I did the request justice. This was kinda stressful the entire time writing it just bc of all the ideas that came. Like I’d be writing and then my brain would be like ‘hey what if this happened’ and then I’m like ‘oh that’s evil. put it in the fic.’ you know?

I begin nervously playing with the tulle skirt of my above-the-knee length party dress. I wanted a mini but dad refused to let me be visible to ghosts and lifers in anything ‘revealing’, so we compromised on above the knee. It’s a pretty dress, the black long sleeves are sheer and the back is completely open, and that’s as scandalous as dad would allow. Ironic considering his dancers’ costumes are cut out fringe leotards and nude tights.

And speaking of dancers,

“Who was that?” I ask Francesca as she comes to stand next to me by the black music stands, branded with the infamous Hollywood Ghost Club logo.

“Who was who?”She takes a tiny sip of water and readjusts her massive blue and purple feather headdress. Dad always chooses the most extravagant costumes. Sometimes I wonder how they’re able to dance without falling over from being so… top heavy I guess?

“That guy you were dancing in front of in the denim coat?”

“What are you talking about? I was dancing in front of Willie.”

“Nice try, I know that was Angie. Maybe next time.” On the first day the girls set foot in the place they were such amazing dancers, dad invited them to perform front and center if they wanted to join the club. The downside was he could never tell them apart. I don’t know how though, they’re not indiscernibly identical. I made it my goal to always be able to tell them apart, and they made it their goal to get me to mix them up just once.

“We’re gonna get you one of these days.”

“Yeah, sure. But, uh, do you know who he is?”

“I don’t but maybe you will?”

“What?” Glancing up to Fran’s face she gives me a look and directs me with her eyes before smiling smugly and walking away. I follow her gaze to see my dad standing on the far side of their table, talking with the attractive stranger. His excitement makes his every movement animated and he can’t even seem to string a coherent sentence. Inviting them to sit down, dad starts saying something about Willie and magic? The conversation doesn’t last long and once he leaves, I debate whether or not to approach the handsome stranger.

“Who are we looking at?” I’m startled when I hear Angie’s voice in my right ear.

“Oh. The one at the front table in the denim overcoat.”

“You mean the one Franny was dancing in front of?”

“She already tried that.”

“Dammit!” I laugh at yet another failed attempt.

“I don’t even know why you guys bother anymore.”

“Whatever. Why are we staring at him?”

“I’m debating whether or not I should talk to him.” Angie sends me a look that says ‘have more faith in yourself’ which I gleefully ignore.

“Shoot your shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My dad could interrupt and say something totally embarrassing. He wasn’t done talking to them, he just had to do rounds.”

“Girl, have you seen how many people are here tonight? He’s not gonna be done any time soon, so go while you still have some time!” Angie punctuates her sentence by gently pushing me forward, and I stumble in the direction of the cute stranger. The sudden jerky movement seems to catch his attention and his eyes soften once they meet mine. He smiles softly as a greeting and when I return the look, he takes that as an invitation to walk my way. I’m standing in the middle of the dance floor, frozen partially out of fear and partly out of curiosity.

“Hey, I’m Luke,” denim extends his hand politely and… extremely flusteredly? He sounds breathless and a touch fearful. I’m used to the energy as the club intimidates first-timers. I take his hand,

“Y/n.” Omitting my last name tends to do me a lot of good.

“Wow. That’s really pretty,”

“It’s nothing special.”

“You’re really pretty.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“So, uh-“ he trails off in search of a conversation starter, “What brings you to the Hollywood Ghost Club?”

“Oh, you know... just uhm- just a night out.”

“Do you come to the Club a lot?”

“You could say that. It’s pretty much a second home.”

“Y/n, darling. There you are!” Luke watches my face drop from its pleasant ‘chatting with guests’ expression, to a relaxed almost-frown.

“Here I am.”

“And I see you’ve met Luke.”

“Yes sir.”

“I trust my daughter is keeping you in good company?”

“Your daughter?” Luke nearly chokes on the mystical air of the Hollywood Ghost Club.

“I did not choke!”

“You choked.” Luke and I argue over the details of how we met, in the backstage/dressing room area of the Club. It feels like lifetimes ago, but it wasn’t. And yet in such a short time, we had become completely infatuated and comfortable with one another. So much so that me wearing a floor-length evening gown and jewels doesn’t make me feel out of place with his jeans and flannel shirt.

Despite my light laughter, Luke’s face is fairly flat. He’s beginning to stare off into space, inattentive from our lull in the conversation.

“Hey, you okay?” He snaps back into reality.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You don’t sound so sure.” After a long moment of hesitation, he begins to speak, not looking up from the scuff on the linoleum flooring.

“Y/n, I have something to tell you.”

“What’s up?”

“The boys and I… We… we have unfinished business…”

“Of course you do. That’s why you’re here- why all of us are here.”

“We’re gonna play the Orpheum tonight. At seven.”

“That’s so cool! Tha-” I feel my words trapped in my throat. “That’s your unfinished business... Play the show you never got to before you died.” I feel a well of tears flooding my bottom lash line. They’re not tears of sadness. “That’s your unfinished business. And you’re playing there tonight. Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you found out?!” I cry out in anguish. Luke’s face falls from a somber reluctance to break the news, to utter heartbreak.

“Y/n, I-”

“I thought we had something.”

“We do!”

“Then why would you wait to tell me until,” I check the analog clock on the wall behind him, “An hour before you go?!”

“I wanted to enjoy our last day together without having to think about it. I didn’t think it’d make you this angry.”

“Well, I am angry, Luke!” My sentence is punctuated by Luke getting zapped by a jolt of electricity. He groans as he tries to remain standing upright. The tears streaming down my face slow from a mix of anger to extreme worry.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Your dad gave us a ‘club stamp’ that first night we left.” My face falls slack as I register what he’s just said. Without another word, I furiously push out of my chair and out of the dressing room. Each stride is larger than the last as I let my legs carry me into the wings of the Club’s circular stage. When I have the familiar silver tinsel entrance in sight, I stop cold in my tracks. In front of me stands Alex, in a dazzling pink coat and diamond-covered oxfords, and Reggie, in a luxurious red vest and coat covered in black floral detailing. In front of them stands my father in his extravagant purple number that’s reminiscent of his outfits he wore when performing.

My frustrated steps carried me into his sight and the volume of my strides drew the two boys’ attention behind them. Luke. Luke stupidly followed me out here, and father merely looks at me and blinks authoritatively before redirecting his gaze onto my boyfriend.

“There you are. I knew I was missing a third musketeer.” With a snap of his fingers, dad has poofed Luke out from behind me and poofs him back in between his bandmates. When he reappears he’s wearing a deep blue suit with a black, tiered chiffon collar and bowtie.

“Isn’t it nice that you’re all here together?” Dad launches into his huge speech, seemingly convincing them to stay at the club. He mentions everything they want can be theirs here like Willie, the glory of performing, connection with an audience. As he speaks, he steps forward and reaches up. I go to yell and reach for Luke, but nothing comes out. There’s no sound coming from my mouth, and the undersurface of my black heels feel frozen solid to the ground. Dad notices my movement and shoots me a look to knock it off. Luke sees and as he moves to turn his head, dad reaches up to keep his focus forward before adjusting Luke’s collar for him. He continues with his big speech as another jolt graces all three boys at once.

“I suggest you accept my offer because the clock is ticking,” he downs one more sip of water, preparing to perform, “Ouch. You know where to find me.”

When he disappears onto the stage, I’m released from my spot and the momentum of my struggling launches me forward. Luke turns around just in time to catch me and once he does he doesn’t release me from his arms.

“Luke, I didn’t-”

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He holds me in his arms, one hand on my head to cradle me close to his chest and the other wrapped soothingly around my waist.

“He’s right,” I choke out my words through heavy sobs, “You don’t know that the Orpheum is really your unfinished business. What if it’s not? These jolts could kill you, Luke. For good. My dad may be powerful, but he doesn’t have the power to bring you back from this.”

When I look up, Luke has a heartbroken expression painted all over his face. Before I can speak again, Alex poofs out from beside us. Sharing a worried expression, Luke and I look out onto the stage where dad has him soloing front and center.

“I-I-I, I made a-a promise-”

“To Julie, I know. But if she’s really as wonderful, and as kind, and understanding, and loving as you describe her to be, won’t she understand?” Luke’s expression softens in realization.

“You’re actually considering staying with Caleb?” Reggie asks Luke incredulously. Before he can receive an answer, he, too, is poofed out onto the stage in Alex’s previous spot, to play a jazzy bass solo. Luke looks all around the backstage area, at the audience, between his band members, and at my dad. Finally, his eyes settle on mine. I can’t read his expression; I wish I knew what was going on inside his head.

“Stay.”

Luke and I run out of time when dad calls his name. He’s poofed us apart so I’m frozen against the downstage wall, out of sight from the audience, and Luke is struggling his way onto the stage.

Dad has him soloing for the audience, to create a musical dialogue between the two of them. Luke, conflicted, looks between me and my dad unsure of how to feel. The performer side of him must be loving the high that comes with performing in the club, but the loyal side of him, I can tell, is yearning for Julie.

When the song ends, the three boys share a single look of concern and remorse, no doubt for Julie. I can’t help but feel selfish asking him to stay. It’s not fair for me to ask him to choose between me and her... But that’s not what I’m asking. If all three of them stay here, they don’t risk dying for good. Surely Julie can understand choosing life, or the afterlife rather, over freedom is a rational trade.

Coming to his senses Luke runs off stage.

“Y/n-”

“It’s selfish of me to ask you to stay-”

“I’m staying.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to die, Y/n. If that means I have to play in your dad’s band, fine. But at least we can be together.” Luke runs the pad of his thumb across my cheek to wipe away the tear shed out of joy. Our moment is ended when Alex and Reggie have also returned backstage.

“Boys, if we stay here, we’ll get to live and make music for as long as we want.”

“You said it yourself, we made a promise. To Julie.” Reggie almost looks like he wants to cry.

“If this is what you want- to spend eternity playing jazz solos behind Caleb -I can’t stop you. But I’m not gonna let Julie down. Not again.” Alex searches Luke’s face for any hesitation. When he doesn’t find the change of heart he’s looking for, Alex nods and fidgets with his drumsticks in one hand. The sudden swell of emotion leads the two of them to hug each other tightly; I can’t imagine their pain of knowing they might never see each other again. When they let go, Luke and Reggie share in a hug and the heartache pulls Alex into their hug.

“Can you do me a favor?” Luke asks, sniffling away a few tears. Reggie and Alex nod,

“Anything.”

“Will you tell Julie she’s a star for me, one last time?” A sharp jolt hits the three of them in unison once more; a signal that it’s really time to say goodbye. With sorrowful smiles, Alex and Reggie poof out of the Hollywood Ghost Club for the last time.

When he turns around, Luke’s face is red and puffy from crying and the sight breaks my heart clean in half. I pull him into a hug and press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I love you, Luke.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

***

A/n: YOWZA this really made my heart hurt for Julie sm. I love her and if this were canon I’d have actually kermit.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej

[therenlover]

that list says blurb, so here we go...

young Daniel, LIL era Daniel, playing Sky in Mamma Mia and singing Lay All Your Love On Me

((Okay I took this shit and ran in another direction with it because @creme-bruhlee loves to indulge my ridiculous ideas. Sorry lol))

How The Danny Bunch Would Do Performing "Lay All Your Love On Me" From Mamma Mia From Worst To Best

Number Seven: Laszlo Kreizler (The Alienist)

Poor Laszlo would be absolutely miserable trying to do the whole number.

Like... the whole dance includes push-ups and barrel rolls and all that crazy cardio stuff, so with his arm being the way that it is he would just have a terrible time.

More than once he'd get stuck like a turtle on his back unable to get up from both physical inability and just plain exhaustion.

He'd probably be taken out of the number at his own request about 2 weeks into rehearsals, so we'd never get to actually see him in the diving suit and flippers.

Honestly, it would be for the best though.

I can't imagine how John and Sara would react to seeing him perform.

His dignity would be safe for another day, at least for now...

Number Six: Checo (Paradise Mall)

Checo, though attractive, would not want to be there at all.

Like, he has a million better things to do with his time that don't involve humiliating costumes and hours worth of dance rehearsals every week

He probably wouldn't even show up for the actual performance.

That being said, he'd be around a little longer than Laszlo, and he would actually end up wearing the cute costume at least once, so he doesn't get put in dead last

When it comes to the actual dancing he wouldn't put in any effort

Like... he'd consistently not actually know the moves and would be several beats behind because he'd just halfheartedly follow along with what the other guys were doing.

Checo has potential, and if he actually tried he'd be higher on the list

But he refuses to try, therefore, he is at the bottom of the people actually dancing.

Number Five: Niki Lauda (Rush)

Ah, Niki. What can I even say about Niki...

He, like Checo, does not want to be involved at all.

That being said, Niki is not a quitter, so he would show up and give it his absolute all because he might hate it, but he would refuse to be anything but the best.

That being said, effort can't save everything.

I feel like it wouldn't matter how much Niki rehearsed the moves or did his best to do them right.

He would just look really, really ridiculous.

Not that he would accept that. No, no, no, he would be convinced that he was the absolute best, and when he was confronted with facts that showed him that his assumption wasn't true, he'd get really, really bitter.

In fact, he'd probably even put aside his need to be the best and team up with another dancer if he thought it would mean someone else wasn't better than he was anymore.

More on that later

Also, Niki would look like a fool in the costume.

It's flattering on a lot of people, but with his bouncy little curls it would just be a hot mess

Number Four: Ernst Schmidt (The Cloverfield Paradox)

Schmidt, like Niki, does not want to be involved and is not gifted with the talent that is being able to dance with any semblance of internalized rhythm.

He's a scientist, not a dancer, and that's for good reason.

That being said, Schmidt's attitude is really what sets him about Niki.

He might despise being involved and complain about the experience to anyone who will listen, whether they're in the cast or just strangers, but he would give it a good effort and wouldn't try to tear other people down just because he's a bad dancer.

In the end, he wouldn't do too badly, and he's on the better end of things as far as the Dannys go.

I also think that by the end of the experience, he would be secretly glad he was involved.

Even for hot-headed guys like Schmidt, it can be fun to blow off some steam and just have some stupid fun, even if you make a fool of yourself while doing it.

If any of his teammates recorded it, though, he would simply kill them, so if anyone had a tape of the performance it would have to be a big secret.

Number Three: Andrea Marowski (Ladies In Lavender)

Oh, sweet Andrea would be having the time of his life and I refuse to believe any different.

I have no doubt that he'd be the one that dragged all the other Dannys into this and they couldn't say no because lets be honest, who could risk making Andrea upset? Nobody. Not even the most heartless of bastards.

Andrea is a musician, and he's decently fit and pretty young, so he'd probably do alright with learning the actual choreography.

What he lacks in skill he'll make up for in heart.

That being said, he probably would get so caught up in the excitement of it all that he'd trip over his own feet a few times like an overexcited puppy, so he wouldn't be the very best.

Everyone would tell him he was though, and it would make his whole life.

As for the costume, we basically already saw him in something close to it when he wore the one-piece bathing suit in Ladies In Lavender, so we know he pulls it off well.

He'd look extra funny in the flippers though.

I can see him doing the goofy run with them on backstage and just grinning like a fool saying "Look! Duck feet!"

Number Two: Helmut Zemo (Falcon and the Winter Soldier)

Now, Helmut Zemo may be getting older, but I am a firm believer that he was trained in dance for at least part of his young adulthood.

That means he would pick up the choreography fast, and execute it with a dancer's precision, especially since it isn't super tough skill-wise, it just takes the ability to keep a rhythm in your body and the strength to do the cardio of it for several minutes.

Zemo can do both of those things.

That being said, he is getting older, so he would have some struggles when it came to the more strenuous moves.

The biggest setback for Zemo isn't his skill, or even looking silly in the costume (though I personally think he'd absolutely kill the look)

No, his issue would lay with his ego, because Zemo, even if he thought the whole thing was the stupidest idea he'd ever heard, would need to feel like he was the best.

Just like Niki, he'd get bitter when he realized the attention was going towards someone else.

So, inevitably, he would team up with Niki to do whatever it took to distract the audience and win back the eye of the watchers.

Nobody likes that asshole, so he doesn't to be on top; sorry Zemo.

Also, just for funsies, Bucky and Sam absolutely would come, and they absolutely would make fun of him for it forever as he defended it as an "expression of his inner youth and freedom"

And, Number One: Alex Kerner (Goodbye, Lenin!)

Now, this may come out of left field, but hear me out.

Alex is young and attractive, so he's already got that going for him.

He's also a laborer (he installs satellites) so he would probably be able to keep up with the physical aspects that would be required.

The biggest thing that would make him the most charming and adorable one up there, though, is that he would be doing it all to see little Paula smiling up at him from the audience.

So, even if he thought that whole thing was stupid, he'd put his heart into it.

That combined with his other traits would be enough to win over everybody who saw him as a shining diamond in the rough.

Also, come on, just imagine Alex in one of those wetsuits. He would be too hot for his own good.

Zemo and Niki would totally try to steal the spotlight, but Alex would just be so endearing that nobody would take the bait.

Basically, I wanna give Alex a big smooch after frothing at the mouth as I watch him do high kicks in those stupid flippers

BONUS ROUND

Young Daniel Bruhl would be the one actually playing Sky, because he's the leading man of the bunch.

He'd probably get all shy about the vocal aspect of it.

He would kill it though, no matter how humble he acted about the whole thing.

His costume would be a little different, just swim trunks and the flippers, but he would still rock it and have everybody drooling because duh.

Nobody would be paying attention to him for most of it though.

Because let's be honest, Daniel is wonderful, but the fools doing his backup dancing would be causing enough chaos that people couldn't help but be distracted.

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: While on a walk to clear his head, Alex is attacked by Caleb as a warning to him and his friends. Shaken, he refuses to tell the band what happened, but he does tell Willie who is furious and protective. Fluffy ending. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

Oooh, this was a really good request! All the details were really helpful too, so thank you for that. I really enjoyed writing it, especially the fluff at the end. I really hope this is the sort of thing you were after. Thank you for requesting it, I hope you like it!

TW: injury, blood.

Tripwire

It was safe to say that since Alex and the boys had left the dark room there had been a lot to process. Being dead, for a start. Adjusting to being a ghost had been a whole other ordeal too. Meeting Julie, forming the band, everything that had gone down with Caleb. Willie. Throughout those few months it had been non-stop, one thing after another, and Alex hadn’t had any time to slow down or take a break, not one single moment to really think about what was going on.

Now, somehow, all the difficult stuff was over and done with. Nobody had seen Caleb in weeks, Alex had managed to free Willie from the stamp, and the band had five more gigs lined up, plus a record deal on the horizon. While things were still definitely busy, it wasn’t so constant anymore. Alex finally had the time to just take a breather – or whatever the ghost version of a breather was, seeing as he couldn’t actually breathe. He had settled on his tried and tested method of going for a walk to clear his head to take the time to wrap his mind around it all.

The freedom of teleportation was nice, but it was definitely one of Alex’s least favourite ghost abilities. He couldn’t help but worry he’d somehow end up in the wrong place every time he did it, or that he’d poof out and never reappear anywhere else. It didn’t have the safety of walking through walls or being heard and seen when the band played together. And it might have been freeing, but it wasn’t nearly as freeing as just walking. Walking was slow and repetitive and methodical, rhythmic in a way that was relaxing. When Alex walked he didn’t have to think about where he was going – he could just let his feet take him there while his mind wandered elsewhere.

So that’s what he did. As he walked through the streets of Hollywood, Alex let his mind wander. He thought about everything that had happened since they came back, everything that might have happened in the twenty-five years before that, and everything that could happen in the future. Alex didn’t often think about the future; he didn’t like dwelling on things that were out of his control and the future was certainly that. But as he thought about it then, it didn’t seem quite so daunting – after all, nothing bad had happened in weeks.

As he was nearing the Orpheum, Alex suddenly felt as if something was wrong. It was an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach, a bad feeling that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Dread, maybe. Or perhaps just the intuitive feeling that something was coming and it couldn’t be anything good.

Ahead of him, no more than ten feet away, a mist was gathering, a light lilac cloud spinning faster and faster until it was so thick that Alex couldn’t see through it, growing taller and taller, wider and wider. The cloud spun so fast that Alex could feel wind rush past him from the movement of it, but it was gone as soon as it had come. The cloud dissipated with a soft whoosh, leaving behind a few sparkles drifting on the breeze it had created, and stood where the cloud had been was Caleb Covington.

While he wasn’t happy to see Caleb again after so long, Alex was glad to see he hadn’t lost his flair for the dramatic.

He knew he wouldn’t have time to get away, but he still considered it. Maybe if he ran instead of walking he could get away. He considered poofing out, but his mind had gone completely blank of places to poof to – all he could think of when looking at Caleb was the Hollywood Ghost Club, and going there was nothing short of the worst idea he could ever have had. So he stayed put, staring Caleb down, trying to stop the shaking of his hands and the hammering of his non-existent heart.

“Hello, Alex,” Caleb drawled. His hands were folded atop his cane and he wore a purple suit so dark it almost looked black, his cape wafting ever so slightly in the breeze, his top hat perched neatly on his head. Childishly, Alex wondered if he had the courage to walk up to him and knock the hat off his head. “Long time no see.”

“What do you want?” Alex demanded, trying to sound as if he wasn’t desperate to run away. He was aware that Caleb probably knew just how scared he really was, but if he didn’t show his nerves then he might have been able to convince himself that he wasn’t really frightened.

Caleb tutted. “Come now, is that really how you greet an old friend? I might have expected it from Luke but certainly not from you, Alex. I’m only here to see how you’re getting on without me!”

It felt like a trap, but Alex didn’t know what tripwire he was supposed to avoid.

“We’re doing fine,” he said firmly. “We don’t need you.”

“So you keep telling me,” Caleb replied. He flexed his hands, still grasping his cane. “Tell me, Alex – how did you and your little buddies manage to free yourselves from my stamp, hm?”

“Why should I tell you that?” Alex spat. It was a braver way of saying ‘we have no idea’.

“Oh, I don’t think you should,” Caleb admitted. “If you told me how you did it there would be dire consequences for you and your friends, but it would be extremely helpful to me. If you want to keep this newfound freedom with your silly little band, you shouldn’t tell me how you got the stamp off.”

“Then I’m not telling you,” Alex said.

“But,” Caleb continued, a malicious twinkle in his eyes, “if you want to walk away from this little chat unharmed then I suggest you tell me everything.”

Up until then, Alex thought he had been doing a very good job at standing his ground, maybe even looking a little intimidating. But the threat broke him. He felt himself freeze, his mind halt, and suddenly he was far weaker than the man in front of him.

“Unharmed?” he repeated. “What do you mean ‘unharmed’?”

Caleb cocked his head to the side like he didn’t understand the question. “Isn’t it obvious?” When Alex didn’t say anything, Caleb chuckled darkly. It sent shivers down Alex’s spine and made his stomach twist sickeningly. “Alex, if you refuse to tell me exactly how you got my stamp off, I am going to hurt you. And let me tell you, you’d be surprised just how much you can make someone hurt even after they’re dead and gone.”

Alex’s mind was spinning. There was no good option here, no way out. Caleb had trapped him in yet another impossible situation. He cursed himself for not poofing out while he had the chance.

But it didn’t matter how scared he was now, he would not let his friends suffer just to stave off his own pain. He had to take one for the team, even if he was dreading it. The smirk on Caleb’s face said that he knew he had won this round no matter what, smug and self-satisfied. Alex wanted to slap the smile right off his face, but he refused to give him the satisfaction of a fight.

He steeled himself, set his jaw, tried to look like as much of a threat as he could. “I’m not telling you anything. Nothing you do can make me talk. Do your worst.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow, looking almost amused, but he nodded. “Alright then. You’ve made your decision. I can’t say I’m surprised – you’re not as weak-willed as you look. But you’re still weak. I can still hurt you.”

He tucked his cane under his arm and stalked towards Alex. Too late, Alex wondered if he could have taken that brief opportunity to run away, but he would never know because Caleb grabbed his wrist. It was just like how he’d put the stamp on, a quick touch and a slight sting. When he let go, Alex looked at where his hand had been – there was a blood red mark there, swirling on his skin. Its shape constantly changed, but Alex was sure he picked out a blade before it twisted and morphed into something else.

“What is it?” he asked Caleb.

“You’ll soon see,” he replied, already walking away. He threw the words over his shoulder as he left Alex alone. “Consider this a warning to you and your friends. Willie, too. It isn’t over. There is plenty more I can do to make you suffer. It’s up to you to decide whether you’re willing to put yourselves through all of this just to stay away from me. I’ll see you soon, Alex.”

And he was gone.

For a moment, Alex was confused. This stamp, whatever it was, didn’t seem to be doing anything. It was just moving about on his skin, as fluid as water, like a cool tattoo. He wondered – hoped – if Caleb’s spell hadn’t worked.

But then it hit him. It felt as if he’d been struck by lightning and hit by a bus at the exact same time, unimaginable pain slamming into him and knocking him right off his feet. It was infinitely worse than the pain of the jolts Caleb had inflicted on them before which should have been impossible because those felt like death. And yet there he was, lying on the ground, winded and light-headed, pain surging through his body, unable to move.

Another one. This time it felt like he’d been kicked in the temple and had his face stamped on. He was sure his nose was broken even though that probably shouldn’t have been possible. He lifted a weak, shaking hand to his face and touched his upper lip – when his hand came away, his fingertips were drenched in blood. Alex had been sure that ghosts didn’t have blood, so he wondered whether he’d been wrong or if this was some sort of sick illusion Caleb had created. He decided it didn’t matter, not when he was vulnerable and hurting, in agony worse than dying.

Again, like being stabbed in the gut.

Again, like he’d broken his legs.

Again, like a knife twisted in his back.

It went on and on, attack after attack, pain after searing pain. It hurt too much for him to even scream for help, not that it would have done any good. All around him, lifers walked by without a care in the world, not knowing that he was right there, a snivelling wreck, bloodied and bruised. He curled in on himself and waited for it all to be over.

Eventually, it finished. The last jolt came like a punch to the jaw and when nothing else happened for fifteen minutes, Alex began to come to his senses. He opened his eyes and eased himself up into a sitting position. Even that hurt like hell. He studied his body – his legs, even though they felt like they had been snapped in half, seemed fine; there were a few bruises on his arms, but nothing major; every aching joint was killing him and his head was pounding; again, he touched his upper lip and felt blood crusted there, but none of it was fresh enough to be wet.

He could only imagine how pathetic he looked.

How was he going to explain all this to his friends?

Never mind an explanation – he needed to warn them.

Slowly, he picked himself up off the ground. He regretted it immediately as his head started swimming, he swayed on his feet, almost slumping right back down to the ground. He wouldn’t let himself be beaten by this, he wouldn’t show anymore weakness. His vision blurred (by pain or unshed tears, it was impossible to tell), he focused as much as he could on the studio and forced himself to poof back there.

The feeling of teleportation was uncomfortable at the best of times, but in such a state Alex couldn’t have imagined anything worse. He landed in the studio, his feet hitting the floor with such force that it sent shockwaves up his spine, nothing compared to what he’d just been through but still unbelievably painful. Distantly, he could hear his friends stop talking, muffled and indistinct voices crowding all around him, their faces swimming in front of his eyes.

“Alex,” came a voice. Maybe Julie’s, maybe Luke’s, maybe Reggie’s, maybe none of them. “Alex, buddy, you alright? Come on, speak to us, Alex. What happened? Alex? Alex?”

There was little strength in his arms, but he used it to push them all away and staggered his way to the couch. He collapsed onto it, suddenly feeling weak, somehow more vulnerable than he’d felt lying on the ground as Caleb’s stamp beat him bloody. He checked his wrist now – the stamp was gone.

He came back to himself a little at that; if the stamp was gone, he couldn’t be hurt anymore. He was alright now, he was with his friends, Caleb was nowhere to be seen. But knowing that didn’t stop the tears pooled in his eyes from sliding down his cheeks or his hands from shaking so intensely they might fall off his body. Someone – no, not just someone, it was Julie – crouched down in front of him and gently laid a hand on his knee.

He jerked away from the touch like it burned him.

“Alex,” came Julie’s soft voice. “Alex, please look at me. What happened?”

All he could do in response was shake his head and curl in on himself, body heaving with every sob he was too weak to suppress.

“Alex,” Reggie tried. Alex felt the couch cushions depress next to him as Reggie sat beside him. “It’s alright, man. You’re safe here with us.”

“You’re not alone, Alex,” came Luke’s voice. “Just tell us what happened. Who did this to you?”

But still Alex could only shake his head.

No one said anything for a while. The only sound in the studio was Alex’s laboured breathing and ragged sobs. He’d never felt so pathetic in all his life and death – he could make it through torture without crying like this, and yet just being around his friends after the fact was enough to set him off. He felt useless, he hadn’t even tried to stop Caleb in any way. He’d let this happen, he was the reason he was hurt. This was all his fault.

After a while, he heard the sound of one of the boys poofing out, presumably Luke because Alex could still feel Reggie sat beside him. Only a minute or so later, there was the sound of someone poofing back in, but Luke wasn’t alone now.

“Alex?”

His haggard breathing stopped altogether as Alex opened his eyes to see Willie in front of him, crouched down where Julie had been before. There was a soft smile on their face, reassuring, but Alex wasn’t blind to the tears in their eyes. Alex timidly reached out a hand to him and Willie interlocked their fingers.

“I’m here,” Willie said, his voice wavering. “I’m here for you, hotdog.”

At that, fresh tears began streaming down Alex’s face. He pulled Willie to him, wrapping him in a fierce embrace, holding them so tight that it made his new injuries sear with pain, but he never wanted to let go. The pain was worth every bit of comfort that simply holding Willie provided, every moment, every second, everything.

“We’ll give you guys a minute,” Julie said quietly.

“What?” Luke protested. “No way, I want to find out who hurt Alex and I want to hurt them.”

“Luke,” Julie said, gentle but firm. “That’ll come later. I’m sure we’ll find out everything, but right now we shouldn’t surround him.”

Alex, still holding Willie like his afterlife depended on it, heard the three of them reluctantly leave him and Willie behind. He was grateful for the most part, but a little bit of him still wanted them there. It would have been harder to tell them all what had happened at once, but he would have preferred not to repeat the story.

Willie just held him. They didn’t press for him to talk, didn’t let go before Alex was ready, he just held him in his arms and occasionally whispered, “I love you. You’re safe. I’m here.”

Alex couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have someone like Willie care for him.

Eventually, he pulled away. It hurt to see Willie’s face streaked with tears, especially knowing it was because of him. Alex softly tucked a lock of hair behind their ear.

“I was out for a walk,” he rasped, his voice strained from crying. “Clearing my head. Like the day we first met. Same place and everything. Then there was this weird cloud and Caleb appeared. He said if I didn’t tell him how we got the stamps off then he’d hurt me.”

“Oh, Alex,” Willie breathed. Alex could see their heart breaking.

“I wouldn’t tell him. It’s not like we know anyway. So he… he put this other stamp on me – it was like, red and swirly and it looked like…”

“Death,” Willie finished for him. Alex nodded, looking at the ground, trying to still his breathing again. “It looked like death.”

“It felt like it too,” Alex said dryly. “Or worse.” He choked on his words, remembered it all, broke again.

He fell limply to the side, but Willie caught him, pulled him into a hug as he cried. There were images racing through his mind, one after the other – Caleb’s mirthless laughter and sly smirk, the stamp dripping across his skin, himself lying on the ground covered in his own blood. He still hadn’t figured out if that blood had been real or an illusion, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore because right that moment he felt as if he couldn’t breathe and his legs were numb and the walls were closing in and he was losing his grip on reality and losing his grip on Willie and–

“Come back, Alex,” Willie said, his voice cutting through Alex’s hopeless thoughts. “You’re not there anymore. It’s over. You survived. You are in Julie’s garage, I’m holding you, nothing can get to you. Come back, Alex.”

Slowly, Alex dragged himself down from his thoughts. He focused on the feeling on his hands clutching Willie’s hoodie, the tickle of Willie’s hair against his cheek, the warmth of Willie’s hands on his back. He focused on Willie and it brought him back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t apologise,” Willie told him, sounding almost outraged. He watched as Willie took a moment to collect himself, and when they spoke again their voice was much calmer. “You have nothing to apologise for. None of this was your fault. Please tell me you know that.”

Alex couldn’t have truthfully said so, and he wouldn’t lie to Willie. Bottom lip trembling as he held back yet more tears, he remained silent.

“Alex, this wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known Caleb was going to attack you. You couldn’t have predicted any of this. And it could have happened to any one of us. We all would have done the same thing. You made it through, Alex. This wasn’t your fault and you’re not weak for getting hurt.”

After a moment’s pause, Alex weakly repeated back to them, “This wasn’t my fault.”

Willie pressed a kiss to the top of Alex’s head. “Good. Please remember that. You don’t need to feel guilty about this, alright?”

All he did was nod, closing his eyes and resting his head on Willie’s chest.

“I can explain the stamp if you want,” Willie said, carding his fingers through Alex’s hair. “It has some fancy Latin name that I can’t remember. When Caleb uses it on someone, it takes the most pain they’ve ever been in, and it multiplies it by a thousand. It’s a good thing he can’t use it on lifers because if he did it would kill them with the first jolt.”

“I’m not surprised,” Alex deadpanned.

“The first time he used it on me I thought he was trying to kill me. Again. Or force me to cross over somehow.”

At that, Alex sat up and stared at Willie, wide-eyed. “The first time?”

Gently, Willie pulled Alex back to his lap and laid him down again. “He would use it on me if ever I stepped really out of line. The last time was the day you guys performed at the Orpheum. But I’m free now, so as long as we avoid Caleb it’ll never happen again. If we all avoid him – me, you, Luke, Reggie – then none of us have to get hurt.”

“I don’t think we can avoid whatever he’s got planned,” Alex mumbled.

“Maybe not,” Willie admitted. “But let’s not think about that now. Right, hotdog? I mean, you made it out today. Let’s focus on that. Is there anything you want to do?”

Alex thought for a moment but all he came up with was: “I just want to sleep. And I want you to hold me.”

He could hear Willie’s smile in their voice. “Of course. Whatever you want, Alex.”

Alex felt his eyes drifting closed, sleep catching up with him all at once, the exhaustion being a by-product of the agony. He didn’t mean to say it, but he heard his tired voice breathe, “I love you.”

And just before he fell asleep, he heard Willie whisper back, “I love you too, Alex. Sleep well.”

[the-green-maiden]

Supernatural Fair Fight Livestream Recap with timestamps

(based off of the notes I took while watching live. any errors are mine and not the fault of the cast or abrams)

21:01 Panel Starts. Misha introduces panel- Stacey Abrams, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padelecki, Erik Kripke, Berto the ASL interpreter.

21:02 Stacey Abrams talks about how she got into SPN. Talks about running for governor(?) in California(?), having trouble gathering support/campaign funds. On a particularly bad day, ends up watching SPN in her hotel room. Loves it, ends up watching the whole show after this. Quotes “Even if it’s hard we can’t stop” and “who else is going to do this” and talks about keeping going.

21:05 Kripke: “Wow”

Ackles: “That’s one of the most beautiful interpretations of what we do, how we tell the story.”

21:06 Kripke: “Grateful we could provide inspiration” 

21:07 JarPad: *reiterates above* joke about how “Kripke’s writing is questionable at best.”

21:08 Misha: “The reason we tell stories is to inspire people” creates an allegory about the ‘invisible enemy’ of voter suppression with the invisible enemy trope common in storytelling. “As we made the show, we were taking inspiration from [Abrams]”

21:09 Kripke asks Abrams to tell more about Fair Fight

21:09 Abrams talks about a secretary of state(?) [whose name I didn’t catch but who JPad refers to as ‘Lucifer”] who was in charge of voter registries in Georgia who wrongfully removed thousands of voters from lists, closed essential polling locations, and prevented people from voting, which disproportionately impacted POC and youth voters, and led to 8+ hour wait times in remaining locations. Abrams tells of how her and FF acted to fix this and change the whole system for the better. “If this becomes about politicians, no one is going to care, but when it becomes about people’s [list of basic rights and essential services]...” “...Patriotic belief that democracy means that if you’re eligible to vote, you get to be heard. Fair Fight is committed to ensuring that every voter in the US has the right to vote, and we are pretty good at it.”

21:16 Misha voices concerns about Trump’s attempts to make the 2020 vote counts seem unreliable.

21:17 Abrams gives an in-depth history of voter suppression in the US, committed by both parties at various times, including restrictions on mail-in votes, ID laws, and something about the voting rights act.

21:18 A bunch more panelists join in, including Jake Abel, Felicia Day, and a number of other SPN cast members.

21:19 Abrams says that in Texas a gun license is a valid id to vote, but a college id is not. “Everyone should get to participate, not just the chosen.” Mentions that she has not seen the final 3 episodes yet, request no spoilers until she logs out.

21:22 Kripke thanks Abrams for her political work.

21:22 Felicia Day says she was very excited to meet Abrams at Dragon Con.

21:33 Misha and Kripke try to move panel along to comply with Abrams limited time availability.

21:24 Rachel Miner “We all admire you [Abrams], you’re our hero.”

21:25 JPad gives a long speech thanking Abrams that was too fast to write down verbatim. “It’s important that everyone have their own voice” says it’s an honor to meet Abrams.

21:26 Bob Singer asks a question about Purdue(?) not showing up to a debate.

21:27 Abrams gives a detailed answer about swing states, swing voters, the lack of swing voters in Georgia, and the relatively small impact that Purdue(?) missing a debate would have on his numbers. Long speech about mail-in voting.

21:29 Sebastian Roche asks a question about run-off votes. Abrams answers.

21:30 Rachel Miner asks a question about voter registration descrimination against people w foreign names.

21:31 Abrams talks about how this has happened and what Fair Fight is doing to combat it, and how Fair Fight’s legal actions have managed to significantly reduce the amount of mail-in ballots thrown out for having difficult to understand names on them.

21:33 Shoshanna Stern thanks Abrams for her efforts in making voting more disability accessible.

21:34 Abrams answers, gives more info on the subject and the importance of having accessible voting locations.

21:36 Jim Beaver says it’s wonderful to be able to talk to Abrams, etc.

21:37 Abrams realizes her time has just about run out, and says thank yous and good byes. Mentions that tomorrow is her birthday. Multiple members of the cast wish her a happy birthday. More goodbyes from everyone, and thank yous to and from Abrams. Abrams exits call.

21:39 Kripke and Misha encourage people to donate to FF

21:41 Misha and Jensen rib each other, joke about an open bar.

21:41 Misha “Now we’re just going to waste your time for half an hour now that she’s gone”

21:42 Curtis Armstrong tells a short story about his mother, who was a voter activist in Detroit and Switzerland, and how nice it was to see Abrams talk.

21:43 Trivia intro. Multiple jokes made at the same time about state capitals.

21:44 Jim Beaver “When my kid was 7, I asked her the capital of Vermont and she said V”

21:44 Kripke asks semi-serious question about what JPad wore as protection in the ball-crusher Japanese game show scene in Changing Channels.

21:45 JPad “A thimble. A mini-thimble. No, a cup.” says something else about the cup.

21:46 Ackles “Our special effects team likes to go above and beyond”

21:46 JPad comments about real fear in that scene

21:46 Misha tries to get trivia back on track. “Without powers, what does Dean say Cas is?”

------[Baby in a trenchcoat]

“Other name of the Impala?”

Julie McNiven guesses “A special place”. Someone calls out “baby”

-----[Metallicar]

“Name of Sam and Jess’s friend who goes with them to the bar in the pilot?”

Even JPad, who was in the scene, does not know. Kripke comments that it was named after an irl friend of his from Tiuanna, named LUIS.

“5 works Kripke ripped off for SPN?”

Everyone guessing at once, including: Animal House, On The Road, Good Omens, Constantine, Star Wars, and several others.

“What herpes medication does Sam have to do a commercial for?”

[Herpexia]

21:52 JPad and Julie rib each other about herpes meds, and argue whether the term is prescription or subscription for medication. One of them brings up the example of having a subscription to dog food.

21:52 Jake Abel “What if your dog has herpes?”

Misha “I only hope that Stacey Abrams has tuned in”

Seb makes another joke about state capitals, then asks JPad the capital of Albania.

Jared has no idea, guesses ‘new albania’

Seb “Tirana” talks about having lived on a boat, presumably near Albania.

Rob Benedict: “Thanks for tuning in”

Bob Singer asks who knows the story of Seb getting a massage at VAncouver airport.

Jared (paraphrased) “We all fly through Vancouver airport a lot. Just past security there’s a massage place [with the chairs where you face the floor].” One day JPad and Ackles went through security and saw Seb getting a massage. They go over, convince the masseuse [who knows them all at this point] to let JPad take over. Seb does not notice, despite the fact that the masseuse is a small woman and JPad is holding his hands weird to try to make them smaller. JPad says he put his hands down Seb’s back and up his shirt, and Seb still did not notice, just making a noise and saying ‘very nice’. JPad gets as far as groping Seb’s ass before Seb notices anything is up. This is still the middle of a busy airport.

21:58 Seb “It was strangely sensual. Thank you, Robert, for bringing that up.” “I was perturbed for the whole flight back.”

Ackles “Another highbrow story”

Seb “It’s really fun being on that set. It really is” Claims they are also serious sometimes, to which there is laughter in response.

Ackles “It going to be like that on The Boys, Krip?”

Kripke “No massages to completion”

Seb “Wait there was no completion”

Krip “Saw photos of [Ackles’s] supersuit today”

Multiple jokes from several people about Ackle costume for The Boys being assless, crotchless, entirely made of paint, and cowboy-themed.

22:01 Misha “time for about 5 minutes of outtakes”

Someone jokes about adding ‘give Seb a massage’ as a donation tier.

Misha thanks the fans, says he loves and misses all the cast. Asks Rob B to sing.

22:02 Rob B “tune into my radio show” [for singing]

22:03 Misha announced that $225,000 has been raised for charity so far in the stream.

More thank yous from everyone to everyone, including the zoom team.

22:04 Seb “Vote out Mitch McConnel:

Jensen “Such as British accent to tell us who to vote for”

Seb “I’m half French half Scottish”

Jensen and Seb joke about scottish and french alcohols, and how they can’t be mixed.

22:05 Kripke thanks the fans for 15 years. Everyone else joins in on thanking fans for 15 years.

Jake Abel “There was a big gap in there for me somewhere”

Seb asks if Jake was in the first season.

22:06 Jake “3rd, 5, and 15”

Seb gives long thank you speech.

Jensen talks about how the cast is sticking together “This group is not being dispersed”...”I take comfort in knowing this” jokes that they’re stuck together whether they like it or not.

Misha “Like herpes”

Felicia “Genital or otherwise”

22:07 gag reel begins, including Misha’s ‘on-camera finger, Jensen falling off a chair “furniture could use some work”, Jensen failing to pick a lock for a very long time and Jared asking ‘Cas” to open it, Jensen saying ‘hail misha’ instead of ‘hail mary’, Misha failing to keep a straight face while looking at Alex Calvert, Jensen eating something too hot(?), and more that someone has probably already uploaded in full anyway.

21:13 stream ends.

[cinnonym]

with those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings (when friends come to call)

Written for Day 12 - Gifts of 12 Days of Supercorp @supercorpbb

Read on AO3

***

“I was handling the situation.”

To anyone else, Lena’s voice might sound crisp as ever, but Kara’s super hearing picked up on the slight tremor in her words just like it picked up on her elevated heart rate. For all her bravado – and judging from the impressive array of weaponry strewn all over the plateau, there must have been a lot of bravado involved in stalling the villains until Supergirl’s arrival – Lena’s nerves did seem to have taken quite a blow.

Not that Kara could blame them. After all, the aforementioned weaponry included, among others, enough explosives to bomb National City into ashes twice over, several tanks of what looked like poison gas, and was that a nuke that the SWAT team was dissembling? Jeez.

There was a zero point zero chance that Lena could have held her ground all alone, with only a gun and her trademark Luthor smirk to protect her. But Kara wasn’t going to tell her that. Not when Lena was cradling said gun a little too tight to appear fully at ease. Not when her smirk stretched a little too manically over her lips at this point. Not when it made Kara’s own legs shake just to think about the possibility of Lena hurt, Lena bleeding, Lena –

Kara swallowed, hard, banishing the unwelcome pictures to the back of her mind. Only then did she turn around to bombard Lena with her best Supergirl smile, the one that said nothing of the secret persona behind the hero, of the shaken best friend.

“Of course, Ms Luthor,” she said, lightly in a way she barely felt. “In fact, I just flew by to wish you a merry Christmas. The villain-capturing happened almost by accident.”

Yes. Humour was the best way to fight horror scenarios. Humour, possibly in combination with the surprised laugh that bubbled out of Lena as if she couldn’t help it.

“Why thank you, Supergirl. How thoughtful. But please, call me Lena.”

Kara felt her grin grow more genuine by the second, more effortless with every glimmer of fear getting blotted out by mirth in Lena’s eyes. She allowed herself to relax a little. The danger was banned, and Lena was fine. Lena was laughing, and her effect remained unchanged, whether Kara now wore the cape or not.

“Lena,” she smiled, exaggerating a bow. “And, well, anything for my favourite high profile target.”

A trace of red appeared on Lena’s cheeks, delicate enough that it took supervision to make it out. Then she bit her lip.

“Tell me, Supergirl,” she said, smoothing down her hair with a gesture that seemed just a tad too nonchalant to be convincing, “how are you spending Christmas Day?”

Kara swallowed. “Uh… Celebrating, I guess?”

“Alone?”

Something was off about the way Lena examined Kara’s face, like a tracker searching for clues. Kara fought the impulse to look over at Alex, who was supervising the SWAT team a mere stone’s throw away.

“Hmm,” she made non-committally, hoping her tone wouldn’t give the lie away.

But Lena seemed to have lost interest already. She was inspecting her nails now, one by one, the blush still shining faintly on her cheeks.

“Not that I want to invade your privacy too much,” she said carefully, still refusing to look at Kara. “I just wondered if you had someone to be with, on this day, and if not…” – at this she lifted her gaze to meet Kara’s tentatively, almost shyly – “… if you would consider spending it with me.”

Kara’s heart skipped a beat. She thought of Alex and Eliza, accompanying her every Christmas Day since Kara’s landed in their back yard. She though of the decorated loft and the heap of presents waiting for her under the tree. She thought of the three-course meal they would serve later tonight, just the three of them, as it had always been. Then she looked at Lena, and she thought of the Luthor penthouse, cold and empty despite its spectacular view over National City, because even during the holidays, Lena would be alone.

Kara swallowed. Alex would be fine. Eliza would be fine. They would understand.

And so she nodded.

“I would be honoured,” she said, watching as Lena’s entire face lit up even though she tried to hide it, as the uncomfortable tension left her body, and her fingers stopped playing nervously with the ends of her coat. And suddenly nothing else mattered.

***

For someone who probably spent almost as much time at work as Kara did, Lena made surprisingly mean mince pies. It was a small miracle, but there were what felt like hundreds of them, piled on every surface the sleek penthouse kitchen had to offer, in mouth-watering displays of architectural skill. Kara’s eyes were bulging, but Lena only shrugged.

“Stress-baking,” she said, as if she hadn’t just opened the gates to paradise, “eat as many as you like, please.”

Kara let her eyes flutter close as the first taste hit her tongue, sweet with just the right measure of spice. She moaned. “You will regret this…”

The red crept into Lena’s cheeks like a thief. She tilted her head. “I doubt it.”

“No, for real.” Kara licked a smudge of powdered sugar off her thumb. “These are divine. I feel like I could die happy, knowing this was the last thing I’ve tasted on this earth.”

Lena’s blush intensified. She reached for a pie herself, fiddling a little with the edge. “Well, please don’t die anyway. It would make for a dreadful Christmas gift.”

“We can’t have that,” Kara grinned.

“No, indeed.”

There was that lip bite again, criminally effective at throwing Kara off her game. She swallowed, busying herself with another mince pie to keep from staring at Lena’s mouth.

“Divine,” she repeated, just to say something, and Lena laughed, short but genuinely, before she leaned over Kara to reach for glasses.

“Red? I have whites, too. Or something else entirely?”

“Yes,” Kara said. Cause it was unfair, really, the way Lena was close enough that Kara could sense the warmth of her body, close enough that she could count the separate lashes around her eyes, close enough that she could feel rather than hear the vibrations of her low chuckle.

“Yes what exactly?”

Kara closed her eyes, forcing her mind to focus. She felt the role of Supergirl slip further away from her every time she looked at Lena, felt Kara Danvers push to the surface with every glance Lena threw her way. The cape was no longer an entire persona but only a piece of fabric. Her hands itched to adjust non-existent glasses. Every fibre of her being longed to embrace Lena, hold Lena, tell Lena – but what would she tell her?

“Red sounds good,” she murmured, fighting the urge to duck her head like only Kara Danvers would.

Lena smirked. “How about this one – it’s firm but surprisingly sweet. Reminds me of someone.”

Kara couldn’t help it – she blushed. “Funny,” she said almost defiantly, as if that could save her at this point, “I could say the same about you.”

“Is that so?” The look Lena shot her over the glasses was equally challenging and amused, and altogether way too breathtaking to still be fair. It was out of pure competitiveness that Kara inhaled anyway.

“Yup,” she made, taking one of the glasses Lena was offering to her, “you pretend to be all dry, but there’s definitely a sweet note underneath. Maybe even soft.”

Lena gasped. “You take that back!”

Kara almost giggled, but caught herself just in time and settled for a grin instead. “Not happening, Lena “Port” Luthor.”

“Potent,” Lena hummed, “I like it.”

“So do I,” Kara said. And finally, it was Lena’s turn to blush.

***

“I hope I’m not keeping you from something,” Lena said, much later, when the sun had set hours ago and the cool dark of the apartment enveloped them like a blanket. Kara’d eaten approximately twenty-two mince pies so far, and was going strong. Lena’d had one, but all the more wine. Not that it was showing in anything beyond a permanent and rather adorable shine on her cheeks.

“Hush,” Kara made. Although she couldn’t get drunk, the past couple of hours had lulled her into a sense of security that she had a hard time remembering to be false. “I’m happy to be here.”

Lena nodded, a small smile on her lips. She dragged a finger over the rim of her wine glass. “I wish I could make you a present though. Beyond the pies.”

“The pies are fine!” Kara sat up from where she was lunging a little too comfortably on the couch. “If anything, I should get you a gift. As a thank you for the invitation.”

“That was not what I meant to imply – “ Lena immediately started to protest, but Kara interrupted her with a touch to her knee.

“I know, I know. But it’s Christmas after all, and I want to get you something. Something nice.”

“You really don’t have to,” Lena said, but she was smiling the softest smile Kara’d ever seen her give anyone but, well, herself. Her heart skipped a beat.

“I want to,” she repeated. And then, because Kara wasn’t supposed to know Lena, wasn’t supposed to have gift ideas for someone whom she’d only met a handful of times, she added: “Is there anything specific you’d like?”

Lena’s smile widened into a grin. She leaned forward conspiratorially, motioning for Kara to come closer, then cupped her cheek to bring her mouth to Kara’s ear.

“I’d like,” she whispered, her breath hot and heady with wine, “for you to surprise me.”

And maybe it was her hand touching Kara’s face, or her lips hovering just above the sensitive spot below Kara’s ear. Maybe it was the challenge in her voice, or the gleam in her eyes when she moved back. Or maybe it was the product of all these factors, and mince pies, and blushes, and the spirit of Christmas around them. Whatever it was, it made Kara forget all about Supergirl. And she leaned in.

She leaned in, Kara Danvers through and through, and she kissed her best friend and crush of two and a half years squarely on the lips. She kissed Lena, and Lena kissed her back, and for a moment or two, everything was perfect.

And then Lena climbed into Kara’s lap, her legs scraping over the stupid skirt and not-so-stupid cape, and Kara realised that although she was kissing Lena, Lena was kissing Supergirl.

And somehow, that made Kara Danvers unspeakably jealous.

She sort of drew back then, slunk away from Lena’s lips, Lena’s touch, Lena’s body that was pressed into her like everything she’d ever dreamed of.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, not meeting Lena’s eyes, “I can’t…”

She expected Lena to be confused, disappointed, maybe even annoyed. After all, it had been Kara who had initiated the kiss, Kara who’d all but attacked Lena with it. She wouldn’t blame Lena for questioning her choices, judging her behaviour, possibly condemning it. Or, in the very best case, accepting it without further comments, and moving on. Pretending it had never happened.

She did not expect Lena to laugh. But laugh she did, full of mirth and unbridled joy, and a bubbling exaltation that Kara herself was far from feeling.

“Excuse you,” she said somehow affronted but mostly too startled to feel hurt, “Did I miss something or… ?”

Lena’s face softened. “Oh, Kara,” she said, and –

“What?!” Kara exclaimed, all but shooting off the couch until she was hovering, with Lena scrambling not to slip from her lap. “Wait, what did you just say?”

“Oh Kara,” Lena repeated, with a knowing smile and a gentle hand under Kara’s chin, “I am surprised it took you so long.”

“Took me so long?” Kara echoed. Her mind felt like it was signalling error, a string of white flags all flapping over and under each other.

“To kiss me – and to figure out that I recognised you a long time ago.”

“Reco– Huh? You… What? What are you saying?”

“I am saying,” Lena said, and although she was speaking very slowly, Kara had trouble keeping up, “That I know that you are Supergirl. Or well” – she looked at the emblem on Kara’s chest – “that you are Kara Danvers.”

“Huh,” Kara made, dumbfounded.

Lena chuckled. “Yes, well, it turns out that if there are two people in all of National City who look at me like I am worth more than my last name, like I am worth something at all, worth loving – these two people tend to be the same person. Especially if one of them is a secret superhero.”

“Huhhh,” Kara made, somewhat less dumbfounded. “So you are saying you were kissing Kara after all?”

A slight frown appeared between Lena’s eyebrows. “As far as I understood it, she – you – kissed me first. But I suppose that’s how you could say it, yes.”

“Hmm.” Kara grinned, a grin that was equal parts Kara Danvers and Supergirl. She felt carefree all of a sudden, light in a way that seemed at odds with the fact that she was literally bearing their combined weight in mid-air. “And would you do it again?”

Lena blushed, her thumb wandering slowly from Kara’s chin to her lower lip. “Can you now?”

“I can,” Kara replied confidently. And Lena kissed her, oh did she kiss her.

***

“I hope Alex will forgive me this little manoeuvre,” Lena murmured later, nuzzled comfortably against Kara’s chest. “But I thought this double-hiding had gone on for long enough now, and I finally wanted to do something about it.”

Kara chuckled and pressed a kiss to Lena’s dishevelled hair. “What kind of double-hiding are you talking about this time – the mutual pining kind or the superhero thing.”

“Both. For someone so bad at keeping secrets, you sure are stubborn about them.”

“Hey!” Kara protested, although Lena was perfectly right of course. “You could have said something too.”

Lena squinted up at Kara through her long lashes, a playful smirk on her lips. “I could have – but then you wouldn’t have had a Christmas gift.”

“Secret identity reveals count as gifts now?” Kara grinned. “Man, that will make it easy next year.”

“I asked for a surprise. It came as a surprise that you decided to kiss me first, and talk about your alter ego second. So yes, you met your end of the deal.”

Kara hummed. “I see. And what about your gift to me?”

“I told you I knew about Supergirl, of course. That counts.”

“Does it though? Maybe you just wanted to kiss me again. I call ulterior motives.”

“I wanted to tell you earlier,” Lena protested, but her words were somewhat invalidated by the treacherous red creeping once again into her cheeks, “I actually wanted to tell you when I mentioned the topic gifts in the first place, but then you said you wanted to get me something and I got distracted by your stupid – “ She stopped abruptly, her blush intensifying.

“My stupid what?”

Lena squirmed under Kara’s gaze, a silly smile spread all over her lovely features. “Your stupid face, all pretty and devoted,” she admitted finally, blushing furiously at this point.

Kara laughed. How she loved making Lena Luthor blush. Maybe that was the best present of all. That she would get to do that every day now.

[loliwrites]

So I’m gonna be a bit of a Debbie downer here but it’s shark week for me and I just saw a video of a girl who got a few dates on tinder but she wore a fat suit on the date and out of 5 guys only one of them stayed! Two of them were pretty mean and the other two made excuses to leave. It just made me so sad and now I hate myself. How would Alex help Addi if she had an episode like this and she just managed to convince herself she was unattractive? 🥺

oh babes 😔 I know how you feel. Insecurities suck and once you get the ball rolling on them, it just keeps rolling and getting bigger until that’s all you see. I know this advice is easy to give and hard to take. Boy do I know it. You are beautiful and wonderful just as you are, even with the things you perceive to be flaws. You are the only you! How amazing is that?! I know the world can get you down. The onslaught of how we’re told to look and/or behave is loud. Our media perpetuates an idea that to be sexy, we have to look a certain way -- and that way is often unnatural and the aftermath of cosmetic surgery. You don’t need that to be truly beautiful. 

If the insecurities have to stay (I wish I could drop kick them into the ozone), I urge you to try and alter the way you speak about yourself. It’s okay to get down and feel sad. Valid feelings. But please babes, don’t hate yourself. Your body is amazing just the way it is in this very moment! Yes! At this very moment, your cells are breaking down parts of your bones to give you new parts! Your skeleton is maintaining itself and you didn’t even have to tell it to do that. And guess what, your DNA is repairing itself too! Everyday, every cell in your body has to repair DNA lesions. Little enzymes go around like good mamas and papas and say “get your shit together DNA. If you don’t you could get some really bad diseases!” And your body listens! YOUR KIDNEYS? Don’t even get me started on your kidneys. Those little puppies cycle through your blood constantly going... “Red blood cell? You can stay. Weird toxin thing that I don’t know what you are? Get outta here.”

I’m not super religious (not really at all), but there’s this concept in Judaism called b’tzelem elohim which basically means that every single person has divine light in them and is created in the image of God. Perfect, just as you are. Your body is an amazing piece of art and machinery. Every single minute of every single day, you are the miracle product of a million little things happening in your body.

•   •   •

And maybe that’s when Alex really intervenes. Yes, that’s it Anony. Not because Addi has insecurities. Shit, even he’s insecure about some things. But because of the way her self-talk degrades so quickly when she focuses only on her insecurities. Yeah, Addi curses like a sailor, but they’re paired with insults to herself that are so cruel.

Maybe Alex is sitting on the couch in her apartment. He’s got a beer in his hand, watching the Lakers play the Bulls, and all he hears are the jabs Addi’s taking at herself as she gets ready for a night out with her friends. 

“Fucking stupid shit balls. What the fuck? Can you not?” He hears her let out an aggressive sigh and a frustrated scream. “Looking like a goddamn man, Addison Jones. Fucking stupid... ugly,”

Alex was ready to talk to her about it before, but he hears that and he instantly turns off the tv, sets his beer on the coffee table, and scoots to the edge of the couch with his hands clasped in front of him. “Slugger?!”

A couple seconds later, Addi emerges from the bathroom. She looks completely perturbed, “that’s me, fucking Lou Gehrig--”

Alex tilts his head to the side, unimpressed. “What’s the problem?” His eyes flit over her from head to toe and for the life of him, he can’t understand why she’s in such a state. She looks gorgeous. A little black, velvet dress with lace accents around her shoulders and mid-section. Tastefully sexy. Her legs, smooth and tan, accentuated by her pumps. Every single part of her, from the intricacy of her eyeliner, the maroon on her lips, the fullness of her breasts, the curve of her hips and ass...

“What’s the problem? I don’t have time to unpack all of that.” She huffs, eyeline rising as Alex stands from the couch and takes a couple steps toward her. “For starters. I have a man-jaw. It’s fucking enormous. I definitely shouldn’t have eaten those two donuts for breakfast. My hips look I’m currently child-bearing... lumpy ass things... and my knees...”

He leans back slightly to take a look at her legs. It’s honestly the first time he’s heard a woman complain about her knees. “What’s wrong with them?”

“They’re huge and they stick out!”

“They’re supposed to...”

“And all scarred up, and speaking of scars...” Addi lifts her hand and points to her forehead where a horizontal scar crosses over the center “what the fuck?!”

Alex takes a long, deep breath... the kind that Addi knows she’s cruising for a punishment. He glances at his watch. There’s not much time before her friends get here. A punishment, if any, will have to wait until later tonight. Even that is dependent on her level of inebriation when she returns home.

“I like your scars,” Alex smiles softly and drags his index finger over the scar in her eyebrow. “They tell the story of my little slugger. And you don’t have a man jaw,” he crouches down to kiss her jaw softly, carefully avoiding ruining the makeup she spent time applying. “You’ve got a strong jaw. Do you even know how sexy it is when I’m looking at you from down a red carpet and your bone structure is just...” He pauses, speechless, and shakes his head trying to figure out the right word, “goddess.”

Addi whimpers and juts her bottom lip out.

“And your hips? Oh my god, kid. Do you know how weak I am for your hips and ass?” Alex pulls her closer to him, setting one hand on her hip and the other on her ass. He gives both a squeeze, and Addi has to admit that it makes her feel small comparatively. “Gives me something to grab onto when I’m fucking you from behind, watching you take me like a good little girl,”

Addi hums, eyes stinging. She can’t cry now if only to salvage her mascara, “Alex...”

He rests his forehead against hers. “I love you. I’m in love with you. Just as you are. Absolutely perfect.”

She leans against his chest and stands on her toes, still needing to do so even in high heels, and pecks his lips. He lifts his hand from her ass and cups the side of her face; thumb stroking gently across her cheek. He kisses her again, this one a little longer, a little more intense.

But a knock at the door has them pulling away from each other. Addi smiles when she locks eyes on Alex again. His lips are stained with her lipstick. She drags her thumb across them to wipe them clean, but Alex stops her and holds onto her wrist.

“We’re not done talking about this. You were being really mean to yourself and no one gets to be mean to my girl.”

Addi takes that because she knows. She was saying some pretty terrible things to herself, talking herself down a deep, dark hole. Alex can see the contemplation on her face. He presses another kiss to her lips before walking to the door and pulling it open for her friends. They’re only there for a couple minutes; anxious to get out on the town. But before Addi leaves, Alex grabs her one more time, gives her one more kiss, and one more needy, possessive squeeze to her backside.

[justgillespie]

Missing (3/?)

Summary: Your next door neighbor, Luke Patterson (a.k.a. your longtime crush) has gone missing, and you think you could help finding him.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: None!

Author’s note: So the third part just needed to be edited and now here it is! When I said as soon as possible, I meant it lol xo

Part 4

•

“This better be good. I was in the middle of a game-.”

“I have news”

At last, you decided to call Max first.

“I have one of the band members’ phone number.” You added.

“What?! How?”

“My sister gave it to me. Long story. Should I call now?”

“Well, yes obviously!”

“Okay, okay I’m on it. I’ll call you later.”

You finally dialed the number and patiently waited.

“Hello?” You heard a male’s voice.

“Hello, um...” It wasn’t until that moment that you realized: you didn’t know who you were calling, exactly.

You decided to improvise.

“Is Alex home?”

“Alex?”

The confused voice made you panic.

“What about Reggie?”

The silence made you add “Bobby?”

“Sorry, wrong number.”

The man hung up before you could say anything else.

You groaned.

I’m gonna get so pissed if Tamra was playing with me, you thought, but you wanted to believe that that was not the case.

“What if Tamra wrote a wrong number?”

Max asked once you called him back and explained what happened.

“Don’t think so. She told me the guy gave it to her.”

“Maybe he wrote it wrong.”

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “I guess we’ll just call it a night. See you tomorrow.”

He said goodbye back and you hung up.

“So? How did it go?” Tamra asked from the couch, when you were heading to the kitchen.

“It was a wrong number. Were you just making fun of me?”

She scoffed. “I’m not that bored. No. That was the number he gave me. Maybe he changed it.”

“Thanks anyways.”

You went to grab a popsicle from the freezer and went to your room.

The only idea stuck on your head was to go to the Patterson’s. And you knew pretty well there wasn’t much they could give you. The other idea was to convince Max to stop being complicated and just ask people in his school about the band.

You would go for the second one. You rapidly came up with a plan, and the next morning, you were ready.

Max woke up pretty early for school because he took the school bus, around the corner.

That morning, you woke up thirty minutes earlier than usual (and before anyone else), got ready as fast as you could, and, in a blink, you were next to a sleepy Max in the bus stop.

“What the-? What are you doing here?” He asked once he saw you.

“Going to school. With you.”

“Are you asleep? You do know we don’t go to the same school, right?”

“Oh, I know.”

You faced the street in front of you, pretending to wait for the bus.

“First of all, I barely believe you will get away with getting into my school. And second of all, why would you want to go?”

“Because if you don’t wanna talk to your classmates about Luke, then I will.”

“You can’t be serious.” He said, just when the bus was turning the corner to their street.

“You better believe I am.”

The bus stopped in front of them and you decided to take a step ahead Max and get into the bus, but he stopped you on the steps.

“Y/N.” He said laughing nervously. “You can’t go to my school, that’s insane.”

“Kids, come on. I don’t have all day.” The bus driver said from his seat.

“Then talk to people! We can finish this as soon as possible if you at least try!” You talked despite the man’s warning.

“Oh my gosh! Why do you insist so much?!”

“Are you serious?! We’re talking about a missing person!”

“I’m leaving.” The bus driver said, and you took one more step before Max stopped you again.

“Fine. Fine! I’ll do it. Okay? Just, please stop this and go to YOUR school.”

You squealed and hugged him, and you finally left after thanking him.

Your heart was still racing even after you silently entered your house from the backdoor and you rested against it. You sighed, a laugh in between. You did not know what would have you done if your plan didn’t work. Maybe you were trusting Max too much. He could’ve just said he would do it for you to leave the bus.

But your optimistic self didn’t mind that thought.

You went back to your room, and as soon as you lied back down on your bed, your usual alarm went off. You stopped it. You were ready anyways, so a little bit more of sleep didn’t harm anyone.

Except yourself.

You fell asleep and you didn’t hear your parents calling you until your mom went up to wake you up.

“Y/N-.”

You snapped your eyes open.

“I’m so sorry! I’m going downstairs now, I’m all dressed, I-.”

“You’re not going. Your sister already left.”

You checked your alarm clock. It was 7:57. You always left at 7:40.

“I can’t believe her sometimes. I told her to come call you. It was weird you were still asleep.” Your mom rubbed her temples. Then, she looked back at you. “Your dad and I are going to work now. You’ll stay here, okay? And go to the Pattersons’ for lunch. I’ll call Emily.”

“Mom, I can cook for myself.” If calling Nito’s Pizzeria counted as cooking. “You don’t have to bother Mrs. Patterson.”

“You’re going.” She demanded. “I’ll see you later, okay? Take care.”

She kissed your forehead and left the room.

Well, you had a lot of free time now.

You smiled. This was good. You could continue your investigation.

You got up ready to get started but then you realized. You didn’t know what to do. You still counted on Max to get the important information. And unlike you, he did go to school. You had plenty of time before he came back.

You lied back down on your bed, looking at the ceiling.

You were going to the Pattersons’ house.

You knew you weren’t gonna get out of there with much information but, maybe there will be something...

You got up and opened your window.

Luke’s room was the same as the last time you checked it. Which was last night. Now, it was neat. You figured Mrs. Patterson must have cleaned it.

You focused on the Sunset Curve poster. Why was it so hard to find any of them? If only you could see his room a little closer, maybe you could find something there that could help you.

His room.

A smile slowly appeard on your face.

You were going to Luke’s house today. Maybe you could ask Mrs. Patterson to check his room...

You shook your head. That was something weird to ask. Even if you had good intentions. At least you had the first step done, which was going to his house.

You decided to show up earlier than expected, hoping Mrs. Patterson didn’t mind.

“Oh, hi, sweetie!” Emily said when she opened her door. She was clearly surprised.

She looked tired, but still managed to have a smile on her face.

“Good morning, Mrs. Patterson. I hope it’s okay I come earlier than my mom told you I would”

It was just 8:30. You weren’t supposed to be there until four hours later.

“Oh, no, it’s totally fine! It’s nice to have some company. Come in.” She motioned for you to get into the house and so you did.

You looked around, curious. It was a really nice household.

“Mitch goes to work early and I stay here pretty much all day until he comes back. So I’m really glad you’re here.” She smiled at you again. “I was actually now deciding what should I make for lunch. Does lasagna sound good to you?”

“Sounds perfect.” You smiled back at her. “Do you need any help with that?”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You make yourself comfortable. Oh, and for dessert I was thinking that maybe we could bake some cookies?”

You immediately gave her a big smile and Mrs. Patterson chuckled.

“I think I have my answer. I’ll call you to make the dough once I’m finished with lunch, okay? You can turn on the tv if you want to. I’ll be right there.” She pointed the kitchen.

You thanked her before she left.

So, you were there. You were at Luke’s house. The next step was to get into his room. You could sneak in but, would that be fair to Mrs. Patterson, who’s been super sweet to you? But how were you supposed to ask to get into her son’s room?

You bit your thumbnail.

But you were there already. You couldn’t just lose that opportunity.

You visualized some framed photos around the living room and you took one with your hands to see it closer. It was Luke, when he was a baby. You smiled and felt embarrassed for being excited about baby pictures of a boy who you barely knew.

You shook your heard. Remember rule number 1, you thought.

Still, you couldn’t help but keep watching the rest.

There weren’t many in sight. They probably kept way more in photo albums. If you didn’t know that Luke had some issues with his parents (and you didn’t until a few nights ago), you could’ve never tell there was something going on. In every single picture, Luke wore a beautiful smile. He seemed happy. And not only in the pictures.

He looked happy when he was singing, when he was playing the guitar, when he said hi to you on his way to who-knows-exactly-where...

Of course, it could be quite suspicious the fact that he wasn’t home most of the time. But still. How many times did he probably come out of his house after a fight with his mom, and still managed to pretend that anything happened?

He’s been suffering by himself.

It was then when you noticed the flyers on the sofa. A picture of Luke was plastered on it, with the word “Missing” on top of it.

Your heart skipped a beat. You forgot your mom said they were hanging flyers if Luke didn’t come back yesterday. You felt the urge to shred them and throw them away.

He will be back. You will find him.

You left the living room and made your way to the kitchen.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” Mrs. Patterson asked when she saw you. She was boiling something on the stove.

“Everything’s perfect, Mrs. Patterson. Thanks again, for letting me come.”

“Oh, it’s okay, really. You’re always welcome.” She smiled at you and went back to stirring whatever was in her cooking pot. “Your mom told me you fell asleep.”

“Yeah... I was a little extra tired today.”

She chuckled. “I understand. At least you set your own alarm and get ready by yourself. I have to fight Luke to just wake up. And don’t get me started on getting him out of bed.”

You chuckled, not adding anything else. The moment was very fragile, and you didn’t want to say anything wrong.

“You do dance, right?” She asked then.

You nodded, thinking that maybe your mom told her something about that too.

“I figured. Of course, Sandra told me something but it’s easy to tell you’re a dancer by the way you’re standing.”

You smiled shyly, knowing what she meant. You were standing in a nice third position, ironically, because dancers your age don’t even use that position.

You talked about your dance experience and after a while, you both were just talking about everything. You felt at ease with Mrs. Patterson pretty quickly. She just made it feel that way. You helped her making the lasagna, after all, and after putting it into the oven, you both started making the cookie dough.

“I usually bake with my sister. We both have a sweet tooth.” You commented, cracking two eggs into the bowl Mrs. Patterson had in front of her.

“Oh, me too. Dessert is completely mandatory in this house. A rule that I made, of course.” Mrs. Patterson said and you laughed.

“I should make a similar rule in my house. We only have dessert on birthdays or holidays.”

“I encourage you to do so.” She chuckled, mixing with a whisk the batter in her bowl.

She then asked you to hand her the vanilla and baking powder.

“You guys seem close.” She said, still mixing in her bowl. “You and Tamra.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” You leaned your head. “It’s just been harder to hang out ever since the start of this year. It’s her senior year.” You said, although you thought she might’ve known that already. “But I guess I get it. I’m sure she just wants to enjoy her friends before going to college. Her family will always be here but her school friends won’t. She’s going to Berkeley, by the way.”

You thought about it, but you didn’t mention how glad you were she didn’t want to leave the state. You didn’t want your parents to transform Tamra’s room on a gym (something they never actually talked about, but you saw it on a movie).

Mrs. Patterson added the flour and she let you add the chocolate chips, before mixing again.

“Sandra told me so, I’m really glad... here. You can start to shape them into little balls. I’ll grease the stray.” You obeyed and she also did her task. “How old is Tamra, by the way?”

“She’s turning nineteen in a few weeks. She failed first grade, so she’s a year behind.” You explained, as soon as you saw the confusion in Mrs. Patterson’s face.

“Really?”

“Yeah... back then they just came from Texas due to my parents’ job, so they were with lots of stuff like bringing all of their belongings, they also had to work and on top of all that, they had to take care of Tamra. They didn’t want her to grow up with a nanny, so they would take her with them everywhere. She would ditch school a lot, and therefore she didn’t have a great time at exams.” You placed several dough balls in the tray.

“I think that’s pretty sweet. There are kids that grow up with practically strangers and then go against their parents for that.”

“Mhmm.”

She took the tray and put it in the freezer.

It was 12 p.m. when you both sat on the table and had lunch.

“Your mom... told me about what you’re doing. That you’re helping to find Luke.”

Your heart raced. And you thought that maybe she noticed the panic in your eyes, because she rapidly added something else.

“I just wanted to say thank you, Y/N. Because... I know you guys weren’t close. I don’t think I ever even saw you talking but... you’re still doing this, and I can’t thank you enough. And I just wanted to say that if you need anything, don’t hesitate on calling me.”

She had tears in her eyes which immediately softened your heart, and made you tear up too.

You squeezed her hand.

You knew she said all of this for two reasons. She meant it, but she also knew you were just a sixteen year old, after all. You were aware of that too. How much could you possibly do? But you were willing to do anything. Even when the adults around you didn’t exactly believe you could.

“Just promise me you won’t forget about school or dance while you’re at it. That you will take care and will not go through this alone.”

“I promise.”

She had a doubtful look on her face for a moment, but at last, she spoke. “You know, we haven’t talked to the police yet. But I think we might soon. I just... I didn’t want to call them because I know Luke is safe. I know he’s smart enough to go somewhere he’ll be okay. But he hasn’t come back. And I just can’t help but be worried. I wanna see him. I wanna talk to him. I know he might be in a friend’s house. I suspect it might be someone from his band... Oh!” She sobbed. “I just wish I supported him more. I wish I was more interested on the people he was seeing. Maybe that way we could’ve found him already...”

You got up to hug her from behind, around the shoulders, while she stayed on her seat. “It’s not your fault, Mrs. Patterson. When he comes back, you’ll have another chance. I promise I’ll do anything I can to help you get that second chance. Maybe you won’t even need to call the police.”

“Oh, dear.” She hugged your arms. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

You then pulled back and went to your seat.

“What a mess.” Emily chuckled, cleaning her face with a kitchen cloth. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You looked like you needed it.”

She nodded. “I really did. Thank you.”

A comfortable silence grew between the two of you after that conversation, while you finished your food.

“Mrs. Patterson, actually, I was thinking on asking you something...”

“Sure, sweetheart, what is it?”

Your heart pounded against your chest again. You were doing this.

“I just wanted to know if... if I could check Luke’s room? It’s all for the investigation, I promise I’m not a creep.”

For your surprise, she chuckled, and then looked down for a second.

“Luke really didn’t like people getting into his room... but I guess this could be an exception. It is a peculiar situation, anyways.”

[arse-crack-thistle]

rwrb winterfest - day 18 - music

@rwrb-fests​ 

in which my dear princess bea needs a little comfort at christmastime (ace rep)

Bea always has a hard time around Christmas. 

Part of it has to do with her father. She seems to find new pieces of him to miss every day. Today, it’s his laugh—the deep chuckle he lets out when David jumps on his lap and licks his face or when he’s had a little too much brandy and Bea says something sarcastic and rude about her grandmother. 

She misses how the family used to gather around a table in one of the sitting rooms in Kensington and play gin rummy at Christmastime. The tree would stand tall in the corner. Their father insisted they decorate it themselves, despite Philip’s disapproval. It looked sloppy covered in tinsel and an assortment of colorful lights and ornaments. The star at the top tilted towards the left, but at least the tree filled the room with a delicate pine scent. The fire burned at a soft glow, and everyone around the table laughed and wore paper crowns from their Christmas crackers. It didn’t matter who they were, they were just a normal family.

Now, the room feels cold, even though the fire cracks across from her. In the corner, the bare tree sags. She hasn’t had the energy to decorate it herself since Henry’s been in New York, and while she and Philip have reconciled their differences, he’s never really liked this part of their family’s traditions. Her mother works a ton since stepping up as the heir apparent, so Bea didn’t want to bother her either. Her cat meows next to her on the couch.

Christ, she wants a hit. She wants something to wipe her memory and just let her be. She just might reach for the brandy on the liquor cart. Why did she convince Henry she could handle it being here? Or that she could handle him leaving?

No, he needs to live his life without her, even if she misses him. The hardest part about being ace is watching her people find their person.

She’s happy for Henry and she loves Alex, but she’s lonely when they’re gone. And with loneliness comes dark thoughts. And the chance she will relapse multiplies. 

Bea should call her sponsor. Or Henry. Or literally anyone. She knows they’ll answer. She knows she’s loved. But the only person she wants to hold her and make Christmas special again can’t.

She really misses her father.

Bea leaves the room. She puts as much space between her and the brandy as she can. When her fingers itch for something, she must fill them, and the best remedy is music.

Her favorite room in this place looks exactly how she left it the day before. The piano sits, awaiting Henry. The mismatch of rugs were her idea—benders with musicians in Galway inspired her, or what she remembered of them did. The cat finds her way to her spot on the brown settee. 

Before picking up a guitar, Bea passes tchotchkes from their travels on an antique side table. Nesting dolls from Russia. A Statue of Liberty figurine from their first trip to the U.S. A toorstag from Henry’s month in Mongolia. A coconut bra from Bea’s drunk cruise in the Caribbean. She’s since become a more sensitive and culturally-minded traveler. 

She sits with the instrument on the floor, her back against the settee. This particular guitar was a gift from her father on her fourteenth birthday. It was handmade for her, and her initials sit just below the artisan’s label under the sound hole. The koa wood has a rich, dark finish; Bea likes to drag her finger across the wood grain when she’s deciding what to play next or when she’s lost in her thoughts in between songs. When her father first gave it to her, the sound was bright and lively, but in the time since, it’s become mellow and warm. Perfect for fingerpicking.

She plays a few chords as she tunes it. Her cat purrs behind her ear. Crystal from the chandelier above her twinkles. She settles in the quiet moment and plays.

But there’s no heart in it.

Bea thought if she changed her scenery, if she gave herself something to do, she’d get out of this riptide. But every song, every passing minute, pulls her further and further out.

If no one’s around to hear her play, is it really music?

Is this her safe space if no one’s here to create its harmony with her?

She’s so lonely.

And the tune is as frozen as she feels.

It’s times like these she wishes she wanted her grandmother’s happily ever after—marry a man, pop out a couple of kids, and be a dutiful royal. But she can’t. The thought of marrying someone, of making and raising children, of being a mindless princess puppet actually nauseates her.

If only she had her own community of people like her, she might be able to rely on Henry less. Her other married friends wouldn’t feel so bad for her. She could just go on ignoring her grandmother and Philip, when he gets to be too much. Her mother wouldn’t worry as much.

And not that she wouldn’t miss her father less, but maybe she wouldn’t feel so empty without him here.

Maybe the soul could find its way back into her music.

So Bea snaps herself out of it just enough to text Pez and ask for his Instagram login. She has a plan that her handler—and her grandmother, for that matter—would definitely disapprove of.

But fuck the crown.

Bea needs to take her life in her own hands and demand more for herself. She needs help to feel better, but she has to be the one to initiate. If Henry could do it, so could she. 

Part of the AA mantra is to have the courage to change the things she can. 

She’s got it, and she can do it.

Pez responds quickly and without question, of course. She sets her guitar to the side and downloads the app. After she logs in, she leans forward and rests the phone against the floor pouf in front of her.

Bea takes a deep breath and starts a livestream, and the viewer count immediately skyrockets. Her grandmother is really going to hate this.

“Um, hello,” she says. “I’m sure you all weren’t expecting to see me, but our friend, Percy, was kind enough to lend me his account for a short while. I hope that’s all right.”

She shifts a little uncomfortably. She never minded the spotlight as long as she could control it, but even now, she feels more venerable than ever. Last year’s Christmas pajamas hang loosely on her. Surely, her reindeer bottoms will go viral, as she sits with her legs crisscrossed in full view of the camera. Her cat mews.

“Yes, thank you for that, darling,” She says to her and then looks to the camera.

“I just wanted to come on here to talk to you all. See, as we’re in the holiday season, it’s all a bit overwhelming, isn’t it? And in all of this hustle and bustle, one finds they get a bit lost along the way.

“I’ve noticed this in myself every year, but this time it’s more frustrating. I’ve just been feeling rather lonely lately, as one can during this chilly time, so I thought maybe you lot have experienced that as well. I wanted to connect with people like me. I don’t mean, like, I want to wallow in my problems—or that I have especially difficult problems—I mean I know I’m very fortunate—I just—um. Let me—let me straighten this out.”

She sighs. This could be a disaster. She could come off entitled and whiny if she doesn’t focus more on her words.

“It seems the people in my life all have a partner, and I am so happy for them, truly. But I don’t want a partner or a relationship of any nature other than friendship. And so during this time of year—and, I suppose, other times as well—I find myself the odd woman out.

“For example, here I am, alone in this place, with only my cat, with whom you’ve already become acquainted. Now, I know I’m very lucky to have this, but it’s empty houses that can lead people down a dark path, isn’t it?”

Bea needs to say the words. She needs to make it very clear. She watches the screen flood with comments and hearts. Hundreds of thousands of people are watching, and tomorrow she’s going to be on every media outlet.

“I’m aromantic and asexual, if that wasn’t clear. I can’t and don’t want to fall in love, and not that it’s anyone’s business, I’m not even faintly interested in sex. And that may be confusing for some of you, but for me, it makes my life, my mind, make sense.”

She’s slowly but surely finding her way back to shore now.

“For years, I thought there was something wrong with me, but there’s not. I thought the only way I could be happy was to be in a relationship, but it’s not. And if you yourself are ace as well, I want you to know you’re not alone.

“This is the real reason why I did all of this. I was lonely and sad tonight, and I wanted you all to know that if you feel that too, it’s okay. I hope I can learn about and grow in the ace community—not to replace my happily coupled friends, but to explore new friendships with people who can understand what I and some of you are going though.

“We’ve been taught that there’s one way to be happy, and I just don’t think that’s true. And I’m willing to prove it if you’ll help me. Starting now.”

Bea reaches for her guitar and places it in her lap. She finds the first chord of “Horchata” by Vampire Weekend. A text notification from Henry pops down.

HOLY SHIT I LOVE YOU!!!!!!

A smile creeps up her cheeks.

“Something I love to do when I’m down is to pick out a little tune. If it’s all right with you, I thought I’d play a round for us. Maybe answer a few questions if you’ve got any.”

Bea picks the first note, and the tone is perfect.

She feels warmth grow in her chest and travel around her arms and down her back.

Like her father hugging her from behind, arms crossed over her shoulders.

Just like he used to do many Christmases ago.

[thereluctantinquisitor]

Another Year

OKAY so it is @frenchy-and-the-sea’s birthday and I am HERE with a terrible gift that is just... okay, listen. LISTEN. I had feelings and I just wrote them down and if it is wildly out of character please just pretend it is a really weird AU! 

Aaaanyway, Alex and Tahir belong to the wonderful Frenchy and live in her amazing original work, Seven Cities. If you haven’t already, join me in this glorious rabbit hole and come fall in love with all her characters!

Happy Birthday Frenchy <3

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

If someone had told a young Alex that her life would be shaped like a cradle of wood, set adrift over the ocean chasing fairytales, she would have laughed them out of the room and told them not to bother coming back. Hell, sometimes she felt like laughing herself out of the room when she paused long enough to think about what they were doing. Seven cities. Sitting cross-legged by the Ranger’s bow, her head resting against one of the railing posts, those two words alone were enough to stir something deep and quiet in her chest. It was hard, not to long for answers to unasked questions. Particularly when they had been planted in your head by someone else. Some days, that meeting with Jon, and all the things that followed, felt like a dream. A story that had happened to someone else, a long time ago, that she just happened to overhear at a pub in some piss-soaked harbour town. A story full to the brim of adventure and triumph. Fuller still of mess and mistakes.

“Another year, huh?”

Alex huffed, not bothering to pull her eyes from the waves. “Not sure what you mean. Not sure I care to know, either.”

Of course, she knew exactly what he meant. Maybe at another time, in another place, Tahir might have laughed at her almost dramatic sullenness. But not this time. Instead, he just hovered for a while, before finally lowering himself down beside her with a soft grunt. Exhaling, he tipped his head back. Dark circles framed his eyes, same as hers. There had been some long days, of late, and even longer nights. They wore them about as well as could be expected. “You know, after all this time, I thought you’d soften up to people wanting to celebrate your birthday.” His gaze flicked down, and Alex’s averted just as fast. “It’s a good thing, lad. Means you’ve eked out another year in this mad place. And there’s no one alive who can take that from you.”

“If you’re feeling like waxing poetic, Tahir, there are better audiences for it.”

“Ah, well, Adelina is asleep.”

“Try Duchess.”

The pair exchanged a flat look, like siblings poised to push each other’s buttons. Normally, Alex’s glower was a thing of legend, but this time she felt the corners of her lips twitch traitorously and had to break the contest, masking it by casting her attention back out over the water with a huff. Rather than reveling in his victory, Tahir just allowed a faint smile to spread freely across his face. He was a spot of brightness in the inky dark. Somehow, when she needed him to be, he always was.

The silence lingered until she broke it. “I don’t make a fuss or demand a song and dance because I don’t care about it, Tahir.” Alex wasn’t sure why she started speaking. Normally those kinds of words had to be pried from her like a coin from a miser. “So unless you’ve been spending your lonesome evenings knitting a cape from old hemp sacks and sail rope, best to just treat it the same as any other day.”

There was a pause. “Well,” Tahir began slowly, “I’m not sure about the knitting, but if I’d known you wanted a cape made out of old hemp and---”

He broke off with a surprised grunt as the heel of Alex’s boot connected solidly with his thigh, then quickly caught her foot in one large hand. He raised it slightly, as if to say don’t make me confiscate this, then set it back down on the wooden deck at a pointedly safe distance. “In seriousness,” he continued, one eye still watching for any further signs of attack, “have a drink, at least. Even if it’s just with me or Adelina. Celebrate a little.”

Alex arched a brow. “That an order?”

“It’s a suggestion, Alex. From a friend.”

“Yeah, well…” Alex reached up and ran a hand through her hair. Or at least, she tried it, tangled as it was from the salt and wind. “Consider your friendly suggestion noted. I just…” Her arm suddenly felt heavy. Too heavy. She let it fall to her lap like an anchor to the seafloor. “I just don’t feel in a celebrating mood. Not of late. It’s… there’s so much to do, Tahir.”

“Like what?”

“I…” Alex hesitated. There were things to be done. Of course there were things to be done! There was always something to finish, or begin, or re-do because some half-asleep idiot fucked it up the first time. They were all tired. All drained dry. That meant something was leaking – something that needed to be fixed. Something she needed to fix.

Yet, when asked what that thing was, she found herself at a loss.

Tahir shifted his weight, boot scraping over the deck as he bent his knee and propped his elbow on it. “Sometimes, we have bad weeks. All of us, together, on this ship.” He was looking at her, waiting for her to meet his gaze. When she didn’t, he continued anyway. “None of us blame you for it, Alex. We’ll blame the gods, or the weather, or a bad hand at a tarot reader’s tent well before we’d ever blame you. This is just… how things go sometimes. We can’t change it any more than we can change the tide.”

Finally, Alex turned to face him. “So… what? I’m just meant to accept that sometimes everything goes to shit for no reason? Make my peace with it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because punishing yourself doesn’t make it any easier.”

Alex opened her mouth – to retort? Argue? She wasn’t sure. But once again, she found the will to fight had abandoned her. Or maybe, just maybe, Tahir had a point, and she’d just rather cast herself into the sea than admit it right now. 

Instead, Alex just grunted; a quiet kind of acquiescence, open enough to interpretation that she could stomach it well enough. Tahir, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, accepted it with wordless grace. They sat in silence for a little while longer, side by side, lulled by the creaking of the ship. Then, there was a rustle of fabric as Tahir reached into his side-pouch and extended a further sign of peace.

A flask.

“What’ve you got in there today?” Alex took the flask and set to unscrewing it with half-numb fingers. The night-chill was starting to rise already. She convinced herself the drink was just to chase it away. Nothing more.

Tahir relaxed back against the rail, stretching his legs out again. “Something you’ll like.”

Frowning, Alex eyed him warily as she slowly raised the flask to her nose. The first inhale was short – a test, of sorts. When she didn’t keel over from a poorly conceived prank by one of the twins, she relaxed and allowed herself a deeper breath. What met her was something rich, lightly spiced, and possessing just enough edge to promise a good, trickling warmth that curled its way to her fingertips. Even without tasting it, she knew one thing for certain: it was good. “When did you even get this?” she asked a little accusingly. Last time they were at port, he’d insisted on staying with the ship while the others enjoyed a well-earned shore leave. 

Apparently not.

As though reading her mind, Tahir quickly raised his hands. “Easy there, Captain. I convinced Davin to take my place for a bit. The Ranger was in good hands.” He hesitated. “Well, reasonably good hands. He was still sober enough to stand.”

It was easier to laugh, somehow, with that flask in her hand. Not just because its contents sent a comforting warmth straight to her stomach, but because it was something she hadn’t known she needed. It was a moment with someone she trusted above anyone else, sitting on the bow of her ship, letting sea and sail carry them towards a distant point of the compass.

Some leaks are small. Barely even noticeable, at first. But god, it feels good when someone takes the time to patch it.

“That good, huh?” Tahir asked eventually, after Alex had helped herself to a third hearty swig. Humming contently, she smirked and held out the flask.

“You tell me.” When Tahir raised his brows, Alex just rolled her eyes. “Listen - given you probably owe Dav a favour now – a thing no man alive would envy – you can at least partake in the spoils.”

Laughing, Tahir shrugged his large shoulders. “Well, when you put it that way, how could I say no?”

There it was again. That smile. The one that reminded Alex that she had her own. And she found it, then, as Tahir took the flask and allowed himself a long, deep swallow. Then another. Then another…

“Hey - don’t go emptying it!” There was a moment of frenzy, Alex grabbing for the flask, Tahir twisting away, keeping her at bay with a frantically extended elbow. Eventually, Alex managed to snatch it back and tipped it up, peering inside as though to measure the precise depth of his betrayal. “You rat bastard.”

But Tahir wasn’t listening. He was too busy laughing, one hand on the rail, hauling himself to his feet (and, more importantly, out of range). Once upright, he swayed slightly, then stretched his back. Cat-like. Content in his flagrant hubris.

 Duchess would be proud.

 “Come on, then,” he said. “Up you get.”

“What?” Alex was still fuming, trying to fish out the last few boozy drops with her finger. Traitor. “Why the hell should I?”

Tahir just grinned. 

“Because the rest of the bottle is with Adelina, and you’ve kept her waiting long enough.”

[doc-pickles]

i’ll be home for christmas

Oh look, I remembered to post! Welcome to another week of “tis the season for two dumb bitches” starring me and @odd-birds-and-booksellers​ I decided to write for Hesitate this week. It’s short (I wanted to add more but my brain hurts and I am tired) but fluffy! Enjoy :)

    “I know I’ve come the past few years, but since everything with Izzie happened my life has kind of… imploded. I will do my best to be there, mom. I know, I love you too. Bye.”

  Alex let out a groan as he pushed open the door to the house he shared with Jo and Harper. He’d already had a long day and his mother calling and badgering him about his Christmas plans was not something that helped his growing frustration. As he walked into the living room he noted that the house was much quieter than usual, Jo and Harper were usually already making a fair amount of noise around the house by now. He knew they were home, Jo’s car was parked in the driveway and the lights around the house were on. 

  “Jo? Harper? Where are you guys,” Alex called out but didn’t get a response, his heart rate quickening when he didn’t see either his wife or daughter downstairs. He took the stairs two at a time, checking Harper’s room and finally sighing in relief as he walked into the master bedroom. 

  Laid out across their bed, Jo and Harper were both sleeping soundly. Harper was curled around Jo’s growing baby bump, her dark curls splayed out around her as quiet snores left her mouth. Alex took his shoes off and set them in the closet before sitting next to Jo, her eyes cracking open to look up at him. 

  “She wouldn’t nap unless I laid down with her,” Jo ran her fingers through Harper’s hair as Alex leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek. “How was your day?” “Shitty. Work sucked and then my mom called asking if I was coming out for Christmas,” Alex let one hand drop to Jo’s belly, waiting only a few seconds before a kick met his hand. “I told her I’d think about it, I haven’t exactly explained to her what happened since I moved back home. I don’t wanna overwhelm her…” 

  Turning to face Alex, Jo raised her eyebrows at her husband, “So you haven’t told her about Harper and I?”

  “You make it sound like I’m hiding you guys,” Alex smirked, bringing his hand up to run through Jo’s hair. “I haven’t told her anything and I’d love to go visit, but this will be my first Christmas with Harper and I don’t want to miss that. I’ve missed enough already.”

  Jo reached one hand up to press against Alex’s cheek, a smile spreading on her face, “You aren’t going to miss anything else, Why don’t we just go with you?” “That’ll blow over great,” Alex chuckled, rolling his eyes as he settled back against the headboard. “‘Hey mom, I know it’s been a minute since we talked but I’m here with my ex wife who I remarried and my kid I didn’t know about for two years. Oh by the way we have another one on the way, Merry Christmas!’” +

  “You know sometimes I really think you’ve lost it,” Alex grumbled as he drove past another row of cornfields. “This would be one of those times.” Jo had somehow convinced him to fly to Iowa for Christmas with her and Harper in tow. He hadn’t told his mom anything yet, wanting a chance to explain things in person rather than over the phone. The thought made him anxious, hoping that Helen would be elated over more grandchildren rather than upset that he hadn’t mentioned anything to her. They’d grown closer over the past few years, Alex always calling at least once a week to check in with his mom. The fact that he’d kept Harper and Jo from her for almost seven months was a miracle.

  “Stop worrying, everything will be fine. Besides your mom loves me,” Jo settled one hand onto her belly, pressing down at the tiny foot that was kicking up at her. “You need to calm down in there missy, you’ve been nothing but trouble since we stepped off the plane.”

  Alex eyed the towering blue house as they pulled onto his moms street. He’d only visited a handful of times, but the Christmas lights and the large wreath on the door made the home look inviting. He recognized Amber’s mini van parked out front, groaning as he realized that both his mother and sister would accost him with a multitude of questions as soon as he walked through the door. 

  “And that’s a foot to the bladder,” Jo groaned, Alex eyeing her as he parked the rental car. “Sorry to say that you can’t stall out here for long because I have to pee. You can blame your daughter for that.”

  Heaving a sigh, Alex grabbed a sleeping Harper from the backseat, her head resting on his shoulder as he made his way up the steps of his mom's porch. Jo was standing right next to him, one hand resting on his back comfortingly as he rang the doorbell. The few seconds he waited for his mother to appear were nerve wracking, Alex’s mind playing out worst case scenarios as he nervously tapped his foot. 

  “Alex! I wasn’t sure if you’d show up, what a lovely surprise,” Helen Karev looked as joyful as ever as she greeted Alex, eyes scanning Harper and Jo quickly before ushering all three inside. “Come in, it’s cold out there.”

  Jo and Alex shuffled inside, Alex watching silently as his wife shed her heavy winter coat. His mom didn’t miss the movement either, her eyes immediately taking in the sight of Jo’s almost 30 week baby bump. 

  “I’d love to catch up but I really need to pee first,” Jo grinned at Helen, who directed her down the hallway. As soon as she was out of sight, Alex felt a sharp smack against the back of his head. 

  “Ow! What the hell,” Alex glared at his mother, who was now taking in Harper’s sleeping form. “Geez, that’s a nice warm welcome. I missed you too mom.”

  “I knew you were hiding something from me, I just didn’t think it was a wife and two kids,” Helen began to walk down the hallway towards the living room, Alex following dutifully. “Amber, your brother is here with his new family.”

  A grin took over Alex’s face as his sister came into view, Amber rushing over to pull him into a tight hug. He hadn’t seen her last Christmas because of her work schedule, so the reunion was all the more exciting, “You’ve been holding out on us! I thought you got rid of those twins and the blonde devil, who’s this on your shoulder?”

  Alex rolled his eyes as he settled onto the couch next to Amber, Harper snuggling further into his chest, “I did, thank god. This is Harper, my actual daughter.”

  Amber’s eyebrows rose in shock, Alex holding back his laughter as he realized he had seen the expression on Harper countless times. He was always amazed by just how much of a Karev his daughter was, both in looks and attitude, “Damn you’ve been busy. You hiding a new wife and a van full of kids outside too?”

  “I swear she knows we’re traveling, she has been on top of my bladder all day,” both Amber and Alex’s gazes flicked up to Jo, who now stood behind the couch as she adjusted the sweater she wore. “Amber! It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long!”

  “Jesus Christ Alex, you could call us every once in a while! What’s wrong with you,” Amber jumped up to pull Jo into a hug, “Okay now you have to tell me everything my brother has left out because clearly he’s terrible at communicating with us.”

  +

  Alex eyed the scene playing out in the living room with a grin, the sight warming his heart. Harper was playing with Amber’s two daughters, the older girls ecstatic to have a playmate that would do anything that they asked. Jo and Amber sat on the couch with her husband Matt talking about something he couldn’t quite hear from his position in the kitchen. Both his sister and his wife looked happy though, probably happier than he’d seen either of them in a long while.

  “I’m glad you came out, Jo and Harper both seem to be getting on well with everyone,” Alex snapped out of his daze as his mom came to stand next to him. “I know this year has been rough on you, you deserve to be happy though and anyone with eyes can tell that those girls over there do more than an excellent job of that. Maybe next time don’t wait half a year to tell me though.”

  A smirk spanning his cheeks, Alex wrapped an arm around his mom, “You’re gonna hold that over me for the rest of my life aren’t you?”

  Helen shrugged, leaning into Alex’s embrace as they surveyed their family laughing in the other room. For all that had gone wrong this year, Alex was happy that things had ended well for him. He didn’t think he’d ever get a chance to right the wrongs of his relationship with Jo but he’d been granted that opportunity which he was thankful for more than he could say. Leaving Kansas he truly never thought he’d get the chance to truly be a father, but glancing out at Harper giggling excitedly and Jo’s hands cradling her growing bump he knew that someone was looking out for him. 

  “I would be willing to not bring it up if you keep bringing my grandkids and that pretty wife of yours back home every once in a while,” Alex laughed at his mother’s statement. Of course she’d care more about Jo and the girls than him. 

  “I’m sure I can make that happen mom.”

[serenasoutherlyns]

Full of Surprises ch. 1-3

casey/alex, past alex/olivia. semi-au & fuzzy timeline, set post season 9. cross-posted from ao3 so the first three chapters are coming at ya all at once. TW for series-typical violence, SA, and discussions of mental illness. less graphic than the show. Fluff, romance, angst! First three chapters are totally SFW.

And yet, as she scanned the place, she caught someone she recognized. Sitting at the bar, bent over a notebook, was Casey Novak; her deep red hair tied back in a casual ponytail, an empty highball glass in front of her, chewing on the end of a click pen.

1 .

This wasn’t where Alex would usually find herself. Or at least, it didn’t used to be. Maybe it was now.

Emily had spent her evenings sat at a booth in the back of the local pub, watching and sketching. The books she’d filled, she kept them safely tucked in a box in the back of her closet, initialed “EC.” Alex couldn’t find it in her to draw much anymore.

Anne was alone more than not, spent long evenings reading philosophy, went running early mornings, yoga classes, taught herself guitar, filled hours on hours with ideas and exhaustion. Alex didn’t spend much time poring over The Republic these days, her guitar was long covered in dust.

In law school, her friends had a favorite table in the window of a little cafe, they would go from morning coffee to afternoon study to sharing bottles of red wine, coming and going as they pleased, debating with hopeful glimmers in their bright eyes. Late into the night, arm wrapped around Sylvia’s waist, listening to her classmates carry on, she’d watch the candles burn down. Sylvia had called her Lexi, whispered in her ear on night walks in the cold Cambridge air to their little apartment, gentle hands soothing her most anxious times. Alex hadn’t felt like that in years.

College weekends were spent at punk shows in basements, though she knows now nobody would believe it, young Alex Cabot (the nickname had been coined in those years, sharper edged than the elaborate Alexandra) knew how to have some fun, at least back then. She’d dyed her hair black and worn studs on her collar, had a reputation for being a player, and it seemed like the back of her right hand was constantly stained with marker residue. Sticky floors and lipgloss on her neck, so many firsts all at once.

Her evenings during her years in the DA’s office were usually full of work, except the odd night when she’d meet the detectives for a drink at their haunt or head out with the other ADAs to some upscale cocktail bar. Two different crowds with two different mentalities, the detectives were dedicated to a fault, while the prosecutors were insufferably full of themselves. The detectives would tire her out by 11:30, but she’d find an excuse to leave the ADA excursions before 9. Far more special were the many evenings spent in Olivia’s apartment drinking two beers each and filling the quiet air with soft laughter and conversation.

But a little library themed speakeasy? Not her typical place. Well. No time like the present to change one’s habits. She’d been recommended it by an old law school friend a couple weeks ago, bumped into him on a whim in a coffee shop, was surprised she wasn’t dead, had been there last night, said it was right up her alley. Its illicit vibe wasn’t exactly to ADA Cabot’s tastes, no. But it scratched something in Alex, that hadn’t been satisfied since those basement nights and cozy cafe afternoons. From the place’s shelves she’d pulled a book of Pre-Raphaelite poetry and sat in a comfy chair with a scotch and a San Pelligrino, pleased, at least, to be out of the apartment for the evening.

She didn’t need the money, but she’d been copyediting textbooks freelance, filling up her time with grammar and word choice. She’d been reading a lot of fiction. She adopted two extremely fluffy cats. It was a pleasant, if mundane, life. It turned out, Alex had realized, that there were plenty of eager and capable young attorneys who could do her former job as well as she ever had. She felt, finally, like she deserved a bit of a rest. Needed one, really. Someone would do the prosecuting. The thought of stepping back in the courtroom, looking at the bench, examining witnesses, made her feel sick to her stomach, though she had once loved that life. It wasn’t her anymore— maybe it never really had been. She decided this was her kind of place after all. This iteration of Alexandra Cabot would drink bubbly water in secluded speakeasies while reading poetry.

Alex didn’t expect to see anybody she knew, not somewhere you needed a password to get into, where the music was indie folk and old jazz from a vintage record player, the drinks had names like the “Lady Brett” and the “Daisy Buchanan,” and most of the patrons were dressed in flannel with their noses buried in old books. And yet, as she scanned the place, she caught someone she recognized. Sitting at the bar, bent over a notebook, was Casey Novak; her deep red hair tied back in a casual ponytail, a half-empty highball glass in front of her, chewing on the end of a click pen.

This was surprising. Alex, though she hadn’t ever known Casey well, before her first brief return to life as Alex Cabot, only as one of the white collar ADAs (they ran in a bit of a pack, didn’t shy away from imitating the lifestyles of those they prosecuted). After knowing her as a prosecutor, Alex would expect to see Casey in a sports bar watching a game, or in some chrome-gilded bar with high ceilings drinking designer cocktails and cheering on a verbal showdown between her colleagues. Or in the center of a showdown like that. Not alone, writing in a moleskine, wearing a red flannel over a simple black dress. Casey was striking, Alex realized, before she realized she’d been looking a little longer than was considered normal. She hoped she didn’t seem like a creep watching from afar. She considered getting up, saying hello, but felt that Casey may not even remember her, may not want to be disturbed as she wrote, may not even recognize her anymore. She’d changed her appearance when she’d gone back to being Alex Cabot, cut her hair in a short bob, dyed it dark brown, wore thick rimmed glasses and simple clothing, too painful to be the formal blonde she used to be. Barely the same woman who’s once-murderer Casey had put behind bars those years ago.

Alex didn’t have to consider talking to Casey, however, because almost as soon as she returned to her book, she heard the sound of rubber soled sneakers against the old hardwood floors and a voice beside her.

“Hey stranger,” she said.

“Hi Casey,” Alex said as she slid her bookmark into place and looked up at the familiar face with a smile. “Care to join me?”

2 .

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Casey said as she sat down. “I’m allowed to, uh, talk to you right? Though I guess if I wasn’t you wouldn’t acknowledge me, which would be fine, by the way.” There was the Casey Alex remembered, her words getting ahead of her.

“It’s fine, I’m me again,” Alex said calmly, “It’s really good to see you, though I wouldn’t have imagined you to be the writing type, or the underground-library-bar type” Alex gestured to the leather notebook in Casey’s left hand.

“I’m full of surprises, Alexandra Cabot.” Casey said in a tone that suggested she was sarcastic, yet convinced Alex she was telling the truth. Alex sipped her water.

“What were you working on?” She asked, not wanting to pry, but very eager to catch up, to know why she was alone in a place like this.

“Oh, nothing, nothing interesting. Just some little bits and pieces.” Casey replied.

“Not argument notes on a Saturday night, I hope?” Alex asked, though she knew that she would’ve done the same thing back when she was in the DA’s office. Casey looked pale, uncomfortable for a moment. “I’m sorry,” Alex said, trying to soothe any pain she may have caused, though she couldn’t fathom why. “I don’t mean to bring up work when you’re trying to relax.” At this, Casey just looked confused.

“Alex, have you not heard?” Casey said, searching for signs of recognition in the woman’s eyes, but finding only further confusion continuing, her voice low, “I was censured a few months ago. I can’t practice law for at least three years.” Alex’s eyes opened wide and she set her glass down on the table between them. “I’m surprised the rumor hasn’t reached your circles yet, though I admit I’m glad I get to be the one to tell someone for a change.” Alex noticed Casey cross her arms together over her chest, closing herself up, making herself seem smaller.

It was quiet for a while, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald on the speakers, quiet conversations, and pages turning filling it. “I’m sorry, no, I hadn’t heard. That’s too bad. Do you want to talk about it?” Casey grinned at the suggestion, oddly intimate for the two women who, while they hardly knew each other, had shared some of the most intense moments either of them had experienced in a courtroom.

“I think I’ve gone over it enough in my head, but uh, thank you.” Casey said, her voice wobbling on the thanks, “You know, you’re the first person so far to actually ask me that?”

“I’m sorry.” Was Alex’s reply. Surely Casey had people who were interested in her feelings?

“The circumstances were,” Casey trailed off as she looked for the right wording, “I was at fault, for sure. But I was just trying to do the right thing, and I made a mistake.”

“Nothing shocking, I hope?” Asked Alex, still trying to ascertain the nature of the censure, wondering about what the woman sitting across from her could’ve done.

“I violated due process, technically.” Casey replied, attempting to gauge Alex’s reaction, but seeing that it continued to be contemplative rather than condemning, continued, “I shouldn’t’ve, but I think all of us have done worse in our time. But I was not in Donnelly’s good graces, so…” instead of ending her sentence, Casey sipped the last of her drink and looked up at Alex nervously, hoping the woman wouldn’t judge her too harshly.

“Oh man, Casey. That’s really tough. I’m sorry.” Casey searched for any sign of disapprobation in Alex’s tone, but finding only genuine concern, relaxed.

“So I’ve been doing other stuff for a little while. Using my undergrad,” she said, truly sarcastic this time. “What about you Cabot? What’s keeping you from your old haunt? And what’s with the brunette look?”

Alex wanted to answer, but wasn’t going to let Casey get away completely with deflecting. “You didn’t answer my question, Novak. What’s in the notebook?”

Casey laughed. “You really are relentless.” Alex just raised an eyebrow smugly while sipping her drink, as if to say, go on. “It’s a poetry journal. I’ve kept one since college.”

This admission broke the unflappable Alex Cabot’s reserve and she couldn’t keep herself from a few giggles. “I apologize,” she said, “for laughing at you. Just, the idea of Casey Novak the poet would not have occurred to me.”

“Like I said,” Casey started, “I’m full of surprises. And nobody has laughed at me in a long time,” she continued, beginning to laugh herself. “Believe it or not, I have an English degree.”

“Ok, ok, stop. I’m not sure I can take many more shocks tonight,” teased Alex.

“And you, didn’t answer my question. What’s with the brunette? You look beautiful,” Casey said before realizing what she was saying, shutting herself up before she said anything embarrassing.

“I needed a change,” Alex said, “Something to distance myself from my old selves. I never dyed my hair before, or switched up my look at all really. Just, a change.”

“I get that.” Casey said, and Alex felt like she really did get it, somehow more than anybody else had to this point. She’d seen a few old colleagues and friends, and they all had looked at her with this mixture of fear and pity that made her wish she was invisible. But Casey seemed to say something deeper in just three words.

They talked together late into the night, about books and drinks (Casey had been a bartender in college, her knowledge on pairings was unparalleled) and everything but law. It was close to 2:00 am when Casey started to yawn.

“I’m really glad I ran into you, Alex,” she said as they left the bar, her voice scratchy from talking quietly, a subtle accent that Alex couldn’t quite place showing through under the influence of sleepiness and her light buzz. It was adorable, Alex found herself thinking.

“Me too, Casey,” Alex replied, and before she could turn to start walking towards her apartment, only a block or so away, she was met with a hug. It was brief, but Alex took in the scent of Casey’s coconut shampoo, sweet and pleasing.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be much of a hugger either,” Alex said as she pulled away, brushing her hands on Casey’s elbows.

“I guess you have a lot to figure out,” she said, playfully, as Alex handed her into a cab.

As Alex walked up the stairs to her apartment (she could afford a bigger place, but this one, this one felt right), Alex replayed the evening and regretted not asking for Casey’s phone number before she left. When she pulled her keys out of her pocket to unlock the door, she found a piece of paper, with a number and a note:

text me, so I can learn some of your surprises.

3 .

Alex was awake.

The same old dreams kept her restless. It had been a bad night, she’d slept less than 3 hours before she woke, startled, as the sun just began to rise, 5 am on a Saturday in September.

Foggily, she attempted to reconstruct the details of her pieced together dreams, her therapist, Julia, had convinced her to keep a journal. She said the nightmares of being shot, of nobody recognizing her, those made perfect sense, classic PTSD symptoms. With what happened to her it would’ve been stranger to not suffer it. But these hadn’t been those dreams.

Clare Cartwright, age 15 stood in line at the coffee shop. Her face was pink with tears but nobody saw anything out of the ordinary except for Alex, watching her from a table. Clare’s cheeks were wet and covered in running mascara but the barista didn’t bat an eye as she ordered an iced chai and sat down alone with her laptop. Tears turned to sobs turned to screams, thrashing, but she just kept typing, sipping her tea, nobody did a damn thing. Alex tried to rise from her seat, go to the girl, hold her and scratch her back while she cried, but the heavy weight of her own body kept her seated, powerless to do anything. She tried to yell across the room, tell her that it was going to be ok, she was going to put whoever hurt her behind bars, protect her from them forever. But when she opened her mouth all breath was sucked out of her lungs, she collapsed. Clare’s cries echoed ceaselessly.

Trevor Hamilton, a 20 something pro, had been turning tricks all night but one guy had taken it a little too far. He was sure his neck, hips would be covered in nasty bruises the next day. Oh well. Nobody believed a pro who cried rape. He stuffed his cash in his briefs and made his way towards the van he slept in with three other guys but before he could get there, he fell, body bloody. Nobody heard a sound but Trevor must have been shot. His blood was cold as it poured out of him onto the sidewalk but he stood up. He wasn’t dead. In the morgue, Melinda Warner ruled the cause of death a fatal gunshot wound to his back, probably a stray bullet, but he’d had sex the night he died, maybe an angry John. Alex told everyone that he wasn’t dead. Trevor whispered in her ear, asked her how could she let them say he was dead, how could she let them get away with saying such a thing like that, how could she let them call what had happened to him sex. Alex repeated herself over and over but all she got in return from the detectives were sympathetic looks of confusion as they sent her home for the day. She must’ve been too tired, Alex heard Olivia tell Elliot, maybe her mind was acting up again, sleep deprivation can kickstart psychosis. Someone would check in on her that night, make sure she wasn’t relapsing. Alex knew she wasn’t hallucinating, because Trevor had spoken to her in the clearest voice she’d heard in months. Alex wept for Trevor the whole way home and then some but nobody seemed to notice.

Annabelle Lamm wore a fuzzy pink nightgown when her grandmother brought her into the precinct one snowy night. Olivia called Alex to come to the precinct, they needed a warrant for the apartment, they found fluids in the girl’s hair of all places, grandma handed them an envelope full of pictures of Annie that nobody in the family admitted to taking. It was a no brainer warrant, Alex didn’t even mind waking up a judge for it if it meant getting whoever had been hurting this little girl as soon as possible. When Alex arrived to the building, Olivia wasn’t there and all the lights were off. Alex clicked on a lamp, wondered if Liv had found another ADA and rushed off without telling her anything. But the room was unfamiliar, empty, concrete. In the center of the room standing perfectly still was a 5 year old girl in a pink fuzzy nightgown. Alex ran to her but couldn’t get any closer. The little girl had a hollow expression and didn’t move an inch. Alex kept running and running but her feet stayed in the same spot, powerless.

Yeah. Powerless. As she awoke she felt like she was still running, head still spinning, still heard screams.

She wrote it all down in her journal. Julia had said that it was unusual for people whose jobs involved consistently levels of high stress and disturbance to have the severity of symptoms she had; that there was usually a tolerance that was built up to being horrified. Alex had either never had that tolerance or it had been washed away during the years she’d spent in WITSEC because her very brief return to the practice of law had nearly broken her.

“Sleep deprivation can kickstart psychosis,” Olivia had told her once when they first worked together, ostensibly referring to a case of statutory rape where the perp didn’t recall a single piece of the event; but Alex knew the comment was pointed at her, not the perp. Olivia could tell that Alex’s patience was growing thin, her mind unfocused; she must’ve deduced that Alex wasn’t sleeping much. But Alex already knew the warning signs.

Alexandra Cabot, age 16, sat shaking in a hospital room. It was almost finals week, she’d pulled a few all nighters, it was nothing serious, she’d told her school counselor a week prior when her friends had noticed her speech patterns growing muddled. She stayed up another 24 hours and the last thing she remembered was her roommates grabbing her wrists and pulling her inside off the balcony. After that, the school had installed locks on all the windows. Alexandra was freezing in her hospital gown, brain numbed out from the IV antipsychotics she was attached to. A few days in the hospital to take care of her injuries (she was informed that she had thrown herself against the wall while school officials took her to the ER), then a summer of residential treatment, hopefully she would be able to return to boarding school in the fall. Her father looked at her with a shattered expression, her mother treated her with cold indifference, her friends didn’t talk to her. Major depression with psychotic features.

Alex knew the consequences of not sleeping enough. She considered taking her cup of mint tea and heading back to bed, cuddling up to her cats, reading a book maybe, just trying to screw her head on right. Her body fought her though, nervous energy ran through her veins, so she elected to have a walk instead. Besides, it had been years since she’d had any serious episode. Anxiety, sure, and the occasional month or so of depression, a few close calls, but regular therapy and medication kept her more or less in the clear since college. Her family, her therapists, had suggested she go into a different kind of law, something stimulating but less distressing like, intellectual property, but she had refused, felt called to prosecuting. But her experience was what made her a great prosecutor, and it was why she had been so adamant about the proper handling of cases involving those suffering from mental illness, especially victims, but perps as well. She knew how it felt, more than she admitted to almost anybody, but she also knew there were paths through it.

The same old nightmares, but Alex was a different person. The old Alex would’ve thrown herself even harder into work than usual, won her cases even more viciously, assuaged her feelings of powerlessness by asserting control. This Alex knew that complete control was unattainable.

The September air was cold this early in the morning, but bracing. The contrast between her thermos full of hot tea pleased her, she pretended she was a dragon as she breathed steam. She smiled to herself at the thought and at the bright orange sun rising through the treetops in the park by her apartment. This had been the right choice, sunrises were her favorite magic. Content covered her like a well fitting dress, shaking off the nerves slowly. The most dedicated joggers and newsstand operators were the only other people out this early, the quietest time in the city. Alex’s phone buzzed.

Casey: Nice coat, Cabot.

Alex looked up from her phone, confused. What? Maybe it was delivered late. She’d seen Casey two days ago for coffee— they’d developed a friendship. Texts, coffee, nothing too deep; but then it had only been a couple weeks since they’d run into each other at the library bar. Alex liked Casey. She was funny and a good listener, and she always had something to say. She didn’t walk on eggshells around Alex either, making Casey unique among her friends. She’d tried to meet up with Liv right when she’d gotten back to the city the second time, but the way she looked at her cut way too deep, like she was a hero, like she was a victim. Both of those she may well be, but she needed to be treated as a friend. Casey did that for her, down to playfully teasing her over her eccentric habits. Another text:

Casey: Turn around, Clueless.

Not many people had ever called Alexandra Cabot clueless. Alex turned around, and Casey waved at her excitedly from the jogging path and without waiting for Alex’s reaction began to run up to where she was sitting. Alex was surprised to see her, happily so. She knew Casey was athletic, but didn’t take her to be the 5:30 running type. She wore tight leggings and a running jacket, and the biggest smile Alex had seen from her. She looked beautiful in the soft early light, Alex thought, then immediately blushed at that thought.

She’d never been one to shy away from her sexuality, especially when she realized the destructive role repression had played in her life before she came out. Alex had been out since college, but she tried very hard not to crush on straight women. She knew she couldn’t control who she was attracted to, but it always made her feel a bit dejected, so. Nip that in the bud.

Alex didn’t have much time to consider the ethics of her thoughts, because Casey was right in front of her, grabbing her hands.

“It’s so good to see you! A second surprise encounter, must be fate, Cabot,” Casey said in a quiet voice, a wink in her words.

“Something like that,” Alex replied, “What are you doing out so early?”

“I could ask the same of you; I’m just finishing up my run. You are wearing a fancy coat and looking deep in thought, in fact, you are being far more suspicious than I am, look at how many people are out here jogging, I mean,”

“Oh my god,” Alex cut her off with an eye roll, “Ok, stop cross-examining me.”

Casey gave Alex a genuine laugh, “Old habits die hard.” She paused for a second. “You look pale, did you sleep?”

“Thanks, Casey.” Alex gave her a playful glare. “If three nightmares in three hours counts, then yes, I slept.”

“Oh you poor thing. I’d hug you but,” She gestured to her sweaty figure. “You wanna get breakfast? I’ll pop back to my apartment, shower, and meet you at yours in say, half an hour?”

Alex started slightly at the familiarity, but responded, “Yeah, sure, sounds fun. Uh, here I’ll text you my address.”

Did Casey blush? Alex couldn’t be sure due to her post-run glow and the chill in the air. “Sorry if that’s too familiar, I know we usually plan these things out, and I guess I just assumed you didn’t have plans, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, you know, runner’s high and all,” but Alex cut her off again with a raise of her eyebrows.

“Are you retracting the offer, Novak?” Alex couldn’t resist the urge to tease the woman in front of her. “Because if I recall correctly, I said yes.”

Casey grew more flustered, replied with a quick, “Nope, still happening, see you in half an hour,” and took off running, leaving Alex behind as she laughed in disbelief.