REALLY SHORT BUT SAPPY SHIT! and boob talk for like 2 seconds.

Opening the door to the house you share with the boys, you immediately take notice of the lack of noise that usually takes place.

You can’t say you’re not a little bit grateful, especially after working a 12 hour shift as a peds nurse. It was not a good day to say the least. All you wanted in that very moment was a hot shower and to be wrapped up in the arms of your ridiculously handsome boyfriend.

Closing the door to the garage, you walk over to Chris’s door and softly knock waiting to hear a response. “Yeah?” You peek your head in and see the boy at his desk, headset on and eyes focused on the monitor in front of him. “Oh, hey Y/N/N- Yeah, she just walked in.” Chris replies to you and then who you assume to be Matt through the headset. “Hey Chrissy, just checking in before I head upstairs. You okay?” This was part of your nightly routine. You couldn’t really remember when it started, but you always had to check on Chris and Nick before going to bed. Otherwise you couldn’t sleep.

“Yeah, I’m good. Matt’s yelling in my ear right now asking for you to hurry up. Kids acting like you just got back from war.” You let out a soft laugh at his remark. “I need to check on Nick, then I’ll be in there.” “Oh Nicks gone. He went to hang out with Larray and Arrington.”

“Alright. Well, try to get some sleep. You guys have that really important meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Oh shit! I totally forgot about that. Thanks.” You nod your head and you both say goodnight, before you turn and finally make your way to your bedroom.

When you open the door, your eyes find Matt’s already staring at you. He looks so…soft. Soft and warm and inviting. “Finally!” He huffs out. You can’t help but laugh at him as you walk over to where he sits at his desk. “I missed you so much today.” His voice is muffled by his face being smushed into your stomach, his arms tightly wrapped around you as if you were gonna leave him.

“I missed you too angel.” Your fingers push his hair away from his forehead, and you lean down to place a gentle kiss to his hairline. “I do need to shower though, and then I’m all yours.” A very audible whine leaves his mouth and he pulls you down into his lap, and immediately shoves his face into your neck.

“Can’t you shower in the morning? I wanna keep holding you.”

You’re convinced your heart just melted in your chest from how sweet your boyfriend is. “How about you come sit in the bathroom while I shower? You can tell me about your day.”

“Okay!” He jumps up at that and your eyes widen at the sudden movement. “Jeez Matty, warn me next time.”

“I’m just really excited to see your boobs.” That comment earns him a slap against his chest and an eye roll.

“You act like you don’t see them whenever you want, kid.” “I could have 24/7 visual of those things and it still wouldn’t be enough. Same thing with that pretty face of yours.”

You would never understand how he could be so sweet, yet disgusting at the same time.

You make it to the bathroom, and Matt places you back down on the floor before walking over to the shower to start the water for you. “I’ll be right back, baby.” He places a quick kiss to your lips and exits the bathroom.

When he returns, he’s holding a pair of fresh love sweatpants, clean underwear, and an old t-shirt of his that you stole and claimed as yours a long time ago. “Ughh I love you!” You can’t help but exclaim before pulling him closer to plant another quick kiss to his lips. “I love you way more though. No argument there.”

And Matt really believed that.

The love he felt for you was soul consuming. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“That’s not fair. I love you just as much as you love me! You’re the sun in my freaking sky Matthew.” You pout. Pout. And Matt can’t help but gush at how fucking cute you are.

He looks down at you, your arms wrapped around his waist, and he swears to himself that he would be the sun in your sky for the rest of your lives. And he knew what you meant by that, but being the sun in someone’s sky is nothing compared to being someone’s moon.

And you were his moon. Full of love and hope. The most nurturing person he knew, always taking care of others before yourself, especially him and his brothers. And you were always so calm, which helped a lot when he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Okay, sweet girl. Let’s get you in the shower so we can go to bed. I know you’re probably exhausted.” He softly pats your hip, and moves so you can get undressed and finally shower.

Later that night when you finally retreat to bed, your head lies on Matt’s chest, sleep calling your name so softly you can barely keep your eyes open. Matt just watches you. He watches as your chest slowly rises and falls, and your breathing slows. He watches as you curl into his side even more. But he knew you weren’t quite asleep yet, because this man knew every minor detail about you.

So, when you reach for his hand and bring it to your lips before squeezing it against your chest, where it would stay for the rest of the night, he knew you were finally asleep.

Part 1/5 (probably) of my andreil fake dating au

@givemethedamnflowers @bikevindayy @mai-feri @neilimfinejosten @runpinocchio @youweremyversaillesatnight @paradoxolotl @paysomeonetopaysomeone @asteria-astraeus

----------

It was all Nicky’s fault.

Well, technically it was Andrew’s stupidity’s fault, but he was going to ignore it and blame Nicky anyway. They were at Nicky’s for Thanksgiving when the pest popped up the question he would ask every family gathering.

“So, Andrew…” he paused dramatically, because why wouldn’t he. “Are you still single?

And that had been it. Andrew was tired, he was working on a case that took a lot from him. A thirteen-years-old boy who had been raped by his stepbrother since he was seven and it was hitting way too close to home that it had given Andrew nightmares. He hadn’t had a good night of sleep for almost three weeks now. So he could be excused when his sleep deprived ass had blurted out. “Neil’s my boyfriend.”

His heart came to an abrupt stop the moment the words left his mouth. He felt his mask of indifference begin to crack as he looked across the table to where Neil was looking at him, a spoonful of mashed potatoes halfway to his open mouth.

Andrew was thoroughly fucked. Of all names he could have used to get Nicky off his back he had to have said Neil’s name. As if Nick didn’t know Neil for years, as if he hadn’t known Neil for years. Besides he had a crush on Neil since they met in his senior year of high school.

Neil carefully placed his spoon in his plate, a mischievous grin forming on his lips, his ice blue eyes glistening dangerously. Again: Andrew was fucked.

“I didn’t think we were going to tell everyone yet.” He said slowly, all fake innocence.

The table exploded with noise that Andrew could barely register, all his attention focused on Neil and his smirk and his stupid good looks. Today he was dressed a bit better than usual, in a brown cashmere sweater and olive green denim jacket, probably a courtesy of Reynolds. The colors blended well with his auburn hair and made him look like the personification of autumn. Most of the freckles on his face were gone with the absence of the hotter summer sun, but Andrew could remember each one of them perfectly. Noticing and remembering each and every little detail about Neil was enough to make Andrew forget where he was and what was happening around him.

Today though his mind was occupied with other things. Why did Neil join in on the lie? Was he only being his chaotic self? He knew Neil was prone to saying anything that came to his mind simply to stir shit up, but usually Andrew knew exactly what he was thinking, or he could make a pretty accurate guess.

“Pay up, bitch!” Aaron’s voice sounded from Andrew’s left. Andrew snapped his head in his direction with a scowl as he took in the scene. Aaron had his hand up in Nicky’s direction, a smug expression settled in his face. Nicky sighed, taking his wallet from his pocket to supposedly pay Aaron.

“Don’t forget my share.” Eric said when Nicky went to put his wallet away. “I told you this was the year.”

“You betted on us?” Andrew asked. That Nicky and Aaron made bets about him wasn't a surprise, but even Eric?

“Of course they did.” Neil said. “And I bet Matt and Dan did as well, it's going to be fun telling them.” he laughed.

“We are not telling them.”

“You told Nicky, I think it's only fair I tell people too.”

It was official, Andrew was going insane. He should have stayed in bed instead of coming to Thanksgiving, he didn't even have something to be thankful for this year, his life was going downhill. They were not a real couple and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what Neil was playing at here. And to be honest whatever it was he was not going to join in. He made a mistake, slipped up a little, but he was going to set things straight and not get tangled up in a lie. Especially not a lie that involved Neil and his messed up idea of fun.

“We’re not.” Andrew crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He opened his mouth to tell everyone the truth when Neil caught him by surprise again. “Let’s not have this discussion now, babe.” He pursed his lips in Andrew's direction and went back to his mashed potatoes. The nickname rolling out of his mouth like this wasn't the first time he ever called Andrew that, like this wasn't a monumental moment in the history of Andrew. Like this wasn't going to come up again as soon as Andrew laid his head on the pillow that night and keep him awake for hours.

Nicky snickered and leaned over Eric to whisper something at him. Aaron paled to a green color, a disgusted expression beginning to form on his face. “Never ever call me that from now on.” He said to Katelyn.

She smiled at him, slapping his shoulder lightly. “I'm happy for you, Andrew.” she said, leaning forward to look at Andrew from her seat on the other side of Aaron’s chair. All Andrew could do was nod at her and go back to his food.

There was a time where he couldn't even look at Katelyn. That was when he thought she wouldn't be good for Aaron and when she showed him she was, he then began to be afraid she would take Aaron away from him and instead of a strained relationship they would have nothing at all. But she didn't take Aaron away on the contrary actually, seeing her relationship with her sisters made Aaron reevaluate his relationship with Andrew. They became closer and after they began to have joint therapy sessions they now had something that resembled what the relationship between brothers should be. Andrew had reached the point where he could admit she was alright most days and even great some days.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Nicky jumped away from Eric and pointed a finger between Andrew and Neil. “We're not ignoring this GREAT revelation and going back to lunch. I need dets, gimme the dets. I need to be fed after watching you two pinning for almost ten years. I earned the right to every juice detail of this relationship. I swear you two got together just when I changed my choice on the bet. I lost fifty bucks.”

“You’re earned nothing and I'm giving you nothing.”

“Oh, don't be shy Andrew. Tell them exactly what goes down between us.” Neil chimed in, biting his lips suggestively while raising his eyebrows at Andrew.

Andrew felt his blood rush downwards with every image his fucked up brain conjured as a result of Neil suggestive expression. Nope. Not the time to be thinking about that.

“Please don't, not at the table.” He vaguely heard Aaron say.

“Stop.” Katelyn scolded. “If Andrew and Neil feel comfortable sharing with us we should hear them as their family.”

“You, Katelyn, are too good for this world,” Neil stated. “And definitely too good for Aaron.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, thank you, I prefer your brother.”

Aaron gagged at that and Andrew got the fuck away from them immediately, Nicky’s delighted cackle following him all the way to the front door. Before he could even open the door he heard the soft taps of Neil’s shoes on the hardwood floor. Usually Neil walked like a ghost without any sound but when he clocked in on the fact that it freaked Andrew out not hearing someone approaching him from behind he always made sure to make his presence known before he reached Andrew. It was one of the things that made Neil different from everyone else. He just got Andrew without Andrew even needing to say anything.

“I’m sorry if it was too much.” He stopped beside Andrew, leaning his back against the wall and looking down at his feet. “I just wanted to get under Aaron’s skin, I didn't think how it would sound to you.”

Andrew gritted his teeth. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” At Andrew snort he continued. “I really don't know. I guess I just didn't want Nicky to catch up on the lie at first, but then I thought it would be funny. You know me, I don't have a sense of humor.”

That wasn't true, Neil could be really funny. Or maybe his sense of humor was just the right amount of acid and sarcastic that his remarks made Andrew want to laugh, even though he didn’t most of the time.

“You’re really not as funny as you think you are.”

“I don't think I am.”

“Exactly.”

The corners of Neil's lips pushed up in a small smile. “We’re okay, right?”

“We were never not okay Neil.”

“Good.” he smiled softly. “Does that mean we still can tell Dan and Matt about the change in our relationship status? And Allison? We have to tell Allison, it’ll be gold.”

“Why would we tell them?” Andrew asked, running his right hand over his face. He was too tired for this, he didn't want to use his brain to solve Neil, even though most of the time it was his favorite thing to do.

“First, funny.” Neil put one finger up. “Second, it really would get Allison off my back about not dating anyone ever.”

“You could just tell her you’re ace and don't want to date. Or tell her to fuck off, whatever works best.” Andrew suggested.

“I know, but I don't want to have this conversation with her, or anyone else really.”

“Because you love to make your life more difficult. And mine, you're really into that.”

“Come on, Andrew. What’s the worst that could happen? We go on a few dates, lie to a couple of friends. I bet we're going to laugh about it in a few years.”

Andrew was sure as hell he would not, but for some reason telling no to Neil was very hard. “Okay.”

“You’re the best, babe.” He said with what looked like an attempt at a flirty smile.

“I’m going to stab you.” Andrew hissed.

“No, you’ll not.” He laughed brightly. “You’re too well adjusted now.”

Andrew almost gasped, and he probably would if he hadn't perfected his bored resting face to a T. “Take that back.”

“Nope.” beamed Neil, he straightened his body and got past Andrew to open the door. “Do you want to get out of here? We can go home and watch some crappy detective show?” He tossed over his shoulder.

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

Things I want to make clear:

— Aaron it's homophobic in this au, he just don't want to know about his brother's sex life, or anyone else's for the matter.

— Next part is in revision and it's from Neil's POV

— Little spoiler: Neil's a high school math teacher because I said so 😆

Check Part 2

Uh hi! So I know you usually do ship stuff, but I am desperate for some Isaac Henderson angst content. I’ve found a few here and there but most of them aren’t actually super angsty and a lot somehow feel more about the other characters even if they’re meant to be about Isaac. They’re good but nothings really scratched that itch so far. Could you write something using #12 from the angsty dialogue prompts? Or honestly if you’d rather not do that one, any one of the prompts would be great. I’ll leave it up to you what exactly it’s about and who the line is directed at, I just wanna see my fave go through it.

hello!! i'm sorry this took so long! i would like to clarify that i started it ages ago, but it was at less than 1000 words yesterday evening, and then it was finished at 2am last night. (i got so into it i'm currently in the mindset of "that's it, i'm going to try and post at least a fic a week now 😤", but we will see if that actually happens.) so, i hope if nothing else it's sufficiently angsty and not too ooc. you did give me quite a bit of freedom, and it remains unclear if that was a good choice or not 😅 anyway, enjoy!!

12. "Help me."

Post-prom, Isaac felt out of sorts. 

His situation with James and his odd encounter at Elle’s exhibition had been eye-opening, to say the least. Angela Chen’s Ace still resided on his nightstand, though he’d finished reading it two days after lifting it from the library. He couldn’t bring himself to return it just yet; he found himself going back to it at night, rereading sections over again as if they would tell him something new, feeling he was still missing something. And anyway, they were still on summer holidays. The school wouldn’t miss it for now. 

No one seemed to be missing him much, either.

It was becoming more noticeable, this summer break, how he was the odd one out. He’d been aware his friends were essentially coupled off for months now, and Paris had cemented it, but Paris had also kept them stuck together as a group. 

(Plus, most of the Paris trip had been before things had become royally awkward with James, but he was mostly avoiding thinking about all that.)

The situation with Darcy had understandably taken a bit of a priority in the past couple of weeks, but it didn’t explain the shift that had seemed to happen within all his friends since prom. Isaac had figured for a while that Elle would be leaving, and he assumed it was why she and Tao had been attached at the hip. He didn’t begrudge them it, really. He had watched them pine over each other long enough that leaving them this time together felt warranted. Besides, it wasn’t like they were asking Charlie to movie nights recently, either. 

But it also wasn’t likely Charlie was waiting to be asked, these days. He and Nick had seemingly re-entered their honeymoon phase, which was fair given that they finally could be as coupley as they wanted wherever and whenever they wanted. Isaac just found it odd that it seemed to be more since prom than Nick’s coming out, but he was not going to ask about that. It made sense he didn’t want to think about. The intense, somewhat dark cloud that seemed to still hang over Nick around Charlie was more worth questioning, but it was also part of what kept Isaac from encroaching on them recently. 

Everyone seemed to have something going on. His going-ons felt a little unworthy, in comparison. He wasn’t sure if he was feeling shit about himself because he didn’t want to put an extra burden on his friends and it was a bit sad he considered his feelings a burden, or if that was an excuse for not having to talk about it because he didn’t really know how and it was making him feel shit. 

So, yes. Out of sorts. 

Out of sorts and alone, most of the time. 

He was not in the habit of pitying himself, however, and he was not about to start now. So what if he was having some life-defining realisations about himself and he had no one to share them with? He’d coped with life mostly on his own so far and he’d continue to do so. 

And he was coping. Perfectly. 

Kind of. 

Sitting in one of his best friend’s houses, surrounded by their other friends and staring into a book was how he always coped, so this was perfectly normal. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t absorbing the words and everyone seemed louder than usual. He hadn’t been sleeping well. He was tired. That’s all he was feeling. 

Tara tugged at his foot from where she and Darcy were perched on the floor by his armchair. “Isaac, we're gonna play a boardgame. Put the book down and come join us!”

Isaac looked, but Tao and Elle were still wrapped up in each other in the corner and Nick and Charlie were nowhere in sight. He raised an eyebrow at Tara. “We are?”

“Yes! Nick and Charlie are away to get them right now, so come get comfy.”

Darcy snorted. “Good idea, because we could be waiting for a bit.”

Tara slugged her shoulder and Darcy only giggled again. 

“Shouldn't they have passed the honeymoon phase by now?” Isaac asked, lowering his book slightly but not yet closing it. 

“Nick and Charlie?” Tara grinned. “I'm not sure those two will ever come out of it.”

“Well, I can't say I don't understand,” Darcy quipped, leaning in to Tara with a grin. Tara turned towards her, and their smiles melded as they kissed.

Isaac snapped his book closed. “Actually, I think I'll go to the loo while we're waiting.”

No one gave any sign of hearing him, so Isaac slipped quietly out of the room and up to the bathroom. He rolled his eyes at the giggles coming from Charlie's room and didn't pause. Closing the bathroom door behind him, he finally released a sharp breath. He perched himself on the edge of the bath and pulled out his phone.

Instagram was a distraction he did not often indulge in. His follow count was small—only his friends and favourite authors alongside a small cluster of bookstagrammers he'd found to have good taste. He saved a couple of recommendation posts, then began clicking through stories, pausing when he reached James's. 

The story was almost timed out, all of it from last night, seemingly at a party. Isaac had stopped on a video where James appeared to be singing along to the song playing with another boy. In the middle of it, the boy had swooped forward to kiss James on the cheek. 

Isaac stared at James’s delighted expression and something complicated clenched in his chest. He quickly locked the phone and set it beside him, directing his focus to the wall. 

It was good, he rationalised. James was wonderful; he deserved to be going out and having fun, and he deserved, without question, to have a handsome boy having fun with him. Whether they were friends or something more didn't matter, but the something more definitely seemed possible, if not likely. And James deserved someone who could give him that. 

Isaac had not been able to give him that—did not want to give anyone that, could not derive any joy from it, even from the chance of it giving joy to someone else. 

He was not incapable of love. He knew that. When he looked at his family, when he looked at Charlie and Tao and Elle, he was always so full of love he felt he might explode from it. It wasn't romantic, and it wasn't physical, but it was love, in its purest form it seemed, to him, given he did not want anything in return for it but their happiness and their continued place in his life. 

It was love, uncomplicated, unconditional love, and why wouldn't that be enough? 

He never seemed to be enough. 

He always did what he could to be a good son and a good friend, and he had never doubted it until recently. James had been one of those good friends. He still was, as far as Isaac was concerned, but their relationship had undeniably changed. Maybe it was simply in an awkward phase that would pass, but Isaac, at the moment, could not believe it would ever be the same. For a time, James had been something of his best friend—not because Isaac liked him more than Charlie or Tao or Elle, or because he really spent more time with him, but because James was Isaac’s friend in a way they were not. They spent time together, the two of them, and shared interests the two of them, and when they had been together they had not felt the need for any company outside of the two of them. 

But that had not meant the same to James as it had to Isaac, and Isaac could not give him anything more. He understood that his rejection would not be taken without consequence, but he hadn't been prepared to be, in a way, rejected in return. 

Was this all he would ever achieve? Having friends who would always be somewhat distant—who would always have someone closer, someone better—or having someone close who would eventually want that closeness in a way he did not. Before, he'd worried he was not worthy of that want to begin with. Never had he thought it would be his inability to return it that would be the issue. Could he be upset, that it was his not wanting to be too close that lost him all closeness as a result? 

He was alone on an island of his own making. He couldn't blame anyone for leaving him there if he wasn't going to invite them in, could he? 

Was this, then—alone in the bathroom of his best friend's house with his phone locked beside him and tears in his throat—all he was destined for? 

Isaac Island, party of one. 

A knock on the door startled him, and he swore quietly as he knocked his phone onto the tiles. As he picked it up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and blanched. There were no tears, but his eyes were red and his face was blotchy and the tears were waiting in his throat, they surely would be there if he went back downstairs to—

Another knock.

“One—one minute,” he tried, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. He quickly turned on the tap and ran his hands and wrists under the cool water, but it did nothing to steady his breathing. The thought of his aloneness had choked him, but the thought of returning into company strangled him. It was not his friends’ fault—he refused to make it his friends’ fault—but at the moment, he couldn't bear them all the same. 

He cupped more cold water in his hands and scrubbed it over his face, but it did not shock him out of the spiral of his thoughts. The third knock barely registered over the growing ringing in his ears. 

“Isaac?” Not Charlie, like Isaac had thought. Not Nick either, or Tara, or any of them. “Are you okay? I'd really like to use the loo.”

His island, he thought deliriously, was sinking; he was drowning, and still, he could do nothing but soak his hands under the tap and soak his face in turn and suck in breaths that did not hold enough oxygen. He was drowning, he was sinking, he could not see it but his body felt it and his lungs were going to seize, he was dying—

He cut the knocking off by throwing open the door and gasping, “Help me.”

Isaac had one second to appreciate Tori’s bewildered expression before it turned serious and she took to action. “Isaac? Hey. Look at me.” She set her hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around his middle, still heaving. “I'm assuming you didn't just get diagnosed with asthma,” Tori said, still impossibly calm—perhaps he was actually the sea, he thought, undefinable and raving, and she the island, unravagable. Isaac shook his head. “Alright. I think, then, this is likely a panic attack. Would it help if I get Charlie?”

Isaac shook his head more vigorously. 

To her credit, Tori only considered him for a few seconds, and didn't argue. She guided him back into the bathroom and gently kicked the door closed. “Sit,” she told him. He did, and she crouched in front of him. Immediately, with his knees pulled to his chest and the bath supporting his back, it was better. He was not so adrift. “You're alright. It will pass. I know it's stupid, but you really do just have to focus on breathing.”

She started counting. It was only when she'd repeated the numbers four times that he understood she was telling him how long to breathe in and out for. Then he tried to follow it, and slowly, air felt like it was moving through him regularly again. 

Isaac wiped at his cheek. To his embarrassment, his fingers came away damp. He didn't look at Tori, but he said, “Thank you.” Then, “Sorry.”

She didn't brush off his apology, or tell him to get out now so she could actually use the loo—both of which would have been fair and not unexpected responses. Instead, she turned and sat next to him. She leaned against the bath to his left, a few inches between their shoulders, and stared at the wall quietly with him. 

When his skin stopped vibrating, he tucked his arms around his middle again and breathed out. “How did you know what to do?” he asked. 

She glanced at him and shrugged. “I didn't, really.”

It was all she offered, but it seemed honest. Isaac decided not to push. He was too grateful to care much. 

“Do you want to tell me what it was about?” she asked, softly. 

Isaac looked over at her. She was looking back, unsmiling but not unhappy. She reminded him a lot of Charlie, Isaac had always thought. They seemed similar in ways they likely weren't even aware of. It was both comforting and unnerving. “Do you really want me to?”

Tori shrugged again. “I'd prefer it if you told Charlie or your other friends, because I think that would be more helpful. But I don't think you want to. So you can tell me, if you need to tell someone.”

That was—exactly what Isaac needed, really. He didn't exactly think it should be Tori. They'd known each other a while, and they liked each other well enough, but they weren't friends. Plus, Isaac knew she and Charlie were actually close; it felt weird and unfair to tell her something and then ask her to keep it from him. 

But in this moment, he could not think of a better option, and the mere thought of getting the weight off his chest was a relief. 

“I think I'm going to end up alone,” he said, blunt and ridiculous. Tori, completely fairly, raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Not because I think I'm unlovable or something like that.” Although that was part of it. “But because—” Could he say the actual words? “—I think I'm asexual, and aromantic, so I don't think I'll ever love love anyone, and I think that means I'll always be a bit alone.”

He could. 

It still seemed sad and pathetic when he said it out loud, maybe even more so, but the act of it—the unretractable reality of it—settled something in him. 

Tori's expression, a little confused but free of judgement, only added to that feeling. “So, you don't feel romantic or sexual attraction,” she said slowly. “At all. Is that what you mean?”

Isaac was vaguely impressed. He nodded. 

“When did you figure this out?”

Isaac took a long, heavy breath. “I think, properly, I started to figure it out in Paris, when I realised this guy liked me and I was trying to figure out if I liked him back? But I think I'd been starting to realise it long before then. I just…hadn't known what to call it, or what it meant.”

Tori, he noticed gratefully, took time to process this before nodding. “And now?”

Isaac blinked. “Now?”

“What do you think it means now?”

Oh. Isaac hadn't expected the question, and he found himself unsure of how to answer. “I think it means I'm always going to be lonely.”

Tori tilted her head. “But you didn't think that before.”

“What?”

“You said you don't think you're unlovable. And I agree. I think Charlie loves you a lot. I think most people would, because you are a very nice person. You didn't think of that as less important because it wasn't romantic before. What changed?”

Changed? Nothing. Everything. They were growing up, and love had more meanings when you grew up, and some of those meanings became less important. He looked at the wall again. “They have other people they love more,” he said softly. 

“And you won't ever have that,” Tori returned, equally soft. Not a barb, not a rebuke, nothing negative at all. Just realising; working through it alongside him. “So you think you won't ever be the most important person to someone.”

Isaac swallowed, unable to answer. Not because he didn't know the answer—because it was yes, it was true, she was right, of course she was—but because it was impossible to admit. 

“I think that's the case for most people,” Tori said, at once blunt and thoughtful. Isaac looked back at her, awaiting an explanation. “Think about it. Even the most in love people usually have children, and then their children are the most important people, or at least equally important. And if they have more than one child, no one of them is the most important, and neither of the parents are the most important to the other. I think, instead of having one supremely important person, most people have a group of important people in their life.”

She looked over at him and continued. “There probably are different levels and different kinds of importance, but I don't think that necessarily means one is worth less than the other.”

Isaac sat, for a moment, and absorbed that. Could it be true? He thought of his family. He was lucky, in that scenario. His parents were kind, were wonderful, and he knew without question that they loved him, and he loved them. Neither one of them, he realised, was more important to him than the other. He had different relationships with them both, but each of their losses would leave an equally sized hole in his heart. 

He knew that probably wasn't the same for most people, but if he could find that one example in his own life so easily, he couldn't deny it was possible in others. 

“I suppose,” Isaac said. “I think I know what you mean. I don't think it's the same, but—I know what you mean.”

Tori did smile, now. A barely there thing, but warm and kind, all the same. “It probably isn't the same. I know me saying I love my brothers equally and neither of them are less important doesn't mean anything for your friends treating you the same as their partners, or even other friends. But I think—every relationship is as important as you make it. And sometimes, people might not know they aren't making it important, if they don't know what's important about it to you.”

“Has important stopped sounding like a real word to you, too?” Isaac asked. 

“About six ‘important’s ago,” Tori agreed. 

Isaac laughed, and his relief grew. Tori's smile also grew, just a tick. 

“You're saying I should just talk to my friends,” Isaac noted, eventually, and Tori's smile grew wry. 

“I did say that at the very beginning, yes.” Isaac laughed again, and she shook her head. “But I am saying you should explain to them. I can't promise you're wrong, or tell you everything will be fine,” she said truthfully. “But I don't think you can assume people can't give you what you need, if you don't tell them what that is and let them try.”

Isaac’s chest tightened again, but it was different to the breathless feeling from before. Instead of hopelessness, it was an anticipatory sort of buzz. There was a sureness that hadn't been there before. 

There was a clatter from outside, and this time it was Charlie's voice that called out. “Isaac! Are you still up here? We have the game set up.”

Isaac looked from the door back to Tori. She gave him another smile and nodded. “Go on. I have really needed to pee for about ten minutes now.”

Isaac laughed, again, and got to his feet. Tori passed his phone up to him, and he thanked her once more. He knew she could tell he meant for everything, and she wouldn't appreciate him making more of it, so he took his leave without another word, leaving her to pee in peace. 

Charlie was hovering at the top of the stairs. His face broke into a smile at Isaac’s appearance. “There you are. You've been up here ages.” His smile drooped slightly as Isaac came closer. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Isaac nodded. “Sorry, I got caught talking to Tori.”

“In the bathroom?” Charlie huffed, bewildered but amused. For a moment Isaac pictured Tori's expression when he'd opened the door to her, and he smiled. 

He only hesitated for a second before saying, “I wanted to talk to all of you about something, actually.”

Immediately, Charlie's expression softened. “Yeah?” When Isaac nodded, Charlie smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him towards the staircase. “Come on, then. The game can wait.”

A&O part 5

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

Omega. Jason's scent was all Salim could think about on his way home. He felt a brief twinge of guilt that Maysa's scent hadn't been as appealing, but soon he was back to thinking of Jason. He couldn't get a firm handle on the younger man's behavior. Sometimes Jason was so aggressive and sometimes he acted like other Omegas.

But in a strange way, that was what Salim liked about Jason. He liked that the Omega was aggressive and strong but still melted when given the right attention. Their teasing banter was fun. It almost seemed like too much that Jason's Omega scent would be so good, on top of all the other things Salim liked.

They met up again the next afternoon and engaged in more play. Jason eventually ended it by pouncing on Salim again and pressing his face against the Alpha's neck. Omega, Omega, Omega, Salim's body hummed to the beat of his heart.

“Nicky was askin' about you,” Jason informed him. “My scent's been kinda drivin' him nuts lately. He's a Beta buddy of mine, keeps me calm.”

“I can't imagine you needing reason to be calmed, Jason,” Salim remarked teasingly.

“Shut up, asshole.” Jason gave him a harmless punch to the shoulder. He fell quiet, head nestled in the crook of Salim's neck as he breathed. “Smell so good, Salim,” he declared. Salim shivered a little. He weaved fingers into Jason's hair, pulling his head aside so Salim could take in the Omega's scent.

“My son is my Beta,” he confessed. “I usually don't make him work so hard, but lately...” He breathed Jason in and shivered again. “Jason, I...”

“Go ahead,” the younger man interrupted him. Jason's voice had dropped to a breathless, husky quality. “You wanna bite me, right, Salim? It's okay.”

Salim froze, desire knocking the air out of his lungs. Had Jason somehow heard his thoughts? Or maybe Salim was giving off a certain smell that alerted the Omega. Because Jason was right: Salim did want to bite him. Biting was supposed to be something very intimate shared between Alpha and Omega-- a declaration of intent to mate during the next cycle.

He remembered the way Jason threatened him when they first met. Jason had been very aggressively against even being scented by an Alpha; now he was willingly baring his throat and asking to be bitten. Every time Salim took a breath he got more of Jason's desire, underlaced by nerves. His nose skimmed looking for the perfect spot, Jason's pulse jumping harder and the desire scent growing stronger.

Salim's mind was clouded and all he could think of was Omega. He parted his lips and set his teeth against Jason's throat. Jason's fingers pushed into his hair and he gave off a scent so strong Salim reacted on instinct: he sank his teeth in deep and held on even as Jason cried out in shock and jerked against him. His Alpha side nearly purred in pleasure. Salim eventually released his grip, licking at the wound to soothe it.

“That wasn't so bad,” Jason mused, running his thumb over the mark. It was already starting to bloom red against his fair skin. “How's it look?” He was trying to play it casual but the excitement in his eyes betrayed him.

“It looks like an Alpha bit you,” Salim told him. “A bit too enthusiastically.”

“Felt like the right amount of enthusiasm to me,” Jason shrugged. Again he tried to sound casual but Salim caught the blush staining Jason's cheeks. Pretty Omega, Salim thought with a flutter in his heart. “I hear you thinking,” Jason announced softly.

“I'm thinking I'll have to apologize to Zain for my scent when I get home. He's not used to me smelling so excited.”

“Yeah, poor Nick is thrown off, too,” Jason agreed with a chuckle. He looked a little smug, though, proud of how he made Salim react. “The other Alphas don't know what to make of it.”

“I hope they won't be too disappointed.” Salim gently touched the bite mark. It was definitely going to bruise a little. He felt an unexpected desire stir. Jason's eyes fluttered as he caught the scent. He leaned in and brushed his nose along Salim's throat. He moaned and pressed so close his lips brushed against Salim's skin.

“Salim...” Jason's voice trembled slightly.

“It's okay,” Salim assured him. He was aware of how unusual this was-- unheard of, as far as he knew. But it was Jason, and the action made perfect sense for him to perform. Jason must have thought so too because he didn't pull away or try to argue for convention.

Instead, he pressed his teeth into Salim's neck to give him a matching bruise.

I, Imogen Heaney, am Aromantic

Summary: Imogen and Nick hang out in the park to play with their dogs and Imogen tells Nick she’s aromantic.

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

Imogen smiled when she saw Nick round the corner with his dog. She'd hoped he'd bring her. "Hiiiiii Nellie!" Imogen cooed, getting down on her knees to rub Nellie's soft ears. "Did you want me to just leave and give you two some privacy, then?" Nick laughed. "Oh, don't be silly Nick. You know I'm hear to see you." Imogen said, kissing Nellie's forehead. Nick rolled his eyes. "C'mon don't you have your own brand new dog to fawn over?"

Imogen looked up from Nellie, her eyes lighting up. "Yes! Addie's just over here. I've tied her to the bench. Come on! Come meet her!" Addie was a little black lab. She yipped a bit and tried to jump up on Nick's leg when he came close. Imogen pulled Addie off of Nick ("Sorry, we're still training her not  to do that."), and then they let Nellie come up to meet her. The dogs sniffed each other for a bit. "Oh, here." Nick pulled a tug of war rope out of his bag and tossed it to Nellie and Addie. "By the way, I can't stay too long." Nick said, turning to Imogen. "Me neither. My nan's coming round for dinner soon." He and Imogen watched the dogs play together for a minute. They seemed to get along well. "So," Imogen finally said "You and Charlie Spring?" "Yeah?" Nick spoke slowly "What about us?" "You're...together, aren't you? Like...you're dating?" Nick's shoulder's tensed up and he stared at the ground. He didn't respond right away. "...yeah." Imogen turned her head to face Nick. He continued to stare at the ground. She put a hand on his shoulder. "I think that's great, Nick." she smiled. She felt his shoulders relax. He looked up and returned her smile. "Thanks." he said, his tone doing a complete 180. "It's not really a secret, but we're not exactly going around shouting it, you know? Not everyone needs to know, and you never know how people are gonna react." "Yeah. I mean, it is your business, so I won't tell anyone." "Thanks Imogen." They watched the dogs play for a bit. "So how long have you two been going out." Imogen asked. "Oh! Uh, I mean, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to!" She was curious, but she wasn't sure how comfortable Nick felt talking about his relationship, and she didn't want to be rude. "It's fine." Nick smiled. "We've been going out for a few months now. I had a crush on him way before then, though. It was kind of confusing at first, but we're really happy now. Charlie just makes me...so happy." Nellie brought the rope over to Nick. He tossed it for her ("C'mon, Nellie, share! Addie's littler than you!") and the dogs ran after it and continued their tug of war. "You know," Nick looked thoughtful "You're the first person I've told besides my mum and Charlie's friends." "Well, I'm honoured to be part of you inner circle, then." Imogen jokingly curtseyed. "I'm happy to have you." Nick returned the mock bow. Imogen did some quick math in her head. "So, when I asked you out that time, you were already dating Charlie?" The smile faded from Nick's face. "Er- yeah. Yeah, I was. Look, Imogen," he looked at her with the most earnest eyes "I know I shouldn't have said yes. That was, like, really stupid of me. It was just...I don't know, I guess everyone was watching and some part of me felt like they'd all find out about me and Charlie if I said 'no', and I just wasn't ready for that. I was still figuring myself out, and everything seemed so confusing back then. Not that that's an excuse. I didn't have feelings for you, so I shouldn't have said 'yes' even if I wasn't dating Charlie." "I think I should be the one apologizing." Imogen grimaced. "I should've asked you in private. That wasn't fair to put you on the spot in front of everyone." "Well it wasn't fair of me to get your hopes up." "I think we were both acting a bit bone-headed." Imogen grinned. Nick shook his head, but Imogen could see that he was grinning too. "To be honest, I wasn't even that upset that you cancelled." Imogen's face turned a bit more serious. "I feel like maybe I should be, but I'm not." "Oh?" Nick scrunched up his eyebrows the way he did when he was confused, but still trying to be polite. Imogen loved it when he did that. It was adorable. "What do mean by that?" "Well," Imogen felt weird. She wondered if Nick had felt this way when she'd asked him about Charlie. "When I got your text that night, I actually felt relieved." "Really? You seemed pretty excited about that date." "Yeah, I mean, I think I was a bit, but..." She wanted to tell him what was going on, she really did, but it was just so hard to find the words, and a part of her was really scared for some reason she couldn't quite figure out. Nick could tell she was nervous. He tried to think what would be a good way to comfort her. He put his hand on Imogen's shoulder. "Imogen, you don't have to tell me what's going on with you if you don't want, but if you do want to, I am your friend, so I'm here to list-" "I don't think I really liked you." She didn't mean to interrupt Nick, but if she didn't say it now, she was afraid she wouldn't find the strength to do it later. "I mean, I like you, but, like, just in a friend way." "Oh. So, why did you-" "Ask you out?" Interrupting again? Jeez, she was jumpy "Well, I think I thought I had a crush on you, but I don't think I really did." She bit her lip. "Oh. Well, that's okay. I'm not, like, offended or anything." Imogen nodded, but she didn't seem to be actually listening. "Can I ask you something?" "Uh, sure." "What did your crush on Charlie feel like?" "Oh, uh," Nick hadn't expected that. "Well, you know, I guess I just felt like I wanted to be with him all the time." It was very weird to describe a crush out loud. "Seeing him and all the cute little things he did would just make me feel so warm and happy inside. At first I thought I just liked him as, like, a best friend. I wasn't really that close to any of my other friends, if I'm being honest. Then at some point I realized that I wouldn't mind being with him romantically. I wanted to, like, hold his hand and, er, kiss him and stuff." Nick turned a bit red when he said that. "You know, regular crush stuff. It was just a bit confusing because it was with a boy this time." Imogen nodded solemnly. "See, that's the thing. I...I don't think I've ever had one of those." "What, a crush?" Imogen's silence was all the response Nick needed. "Well, there's nothing wrong with that. Some people get them later than others. You'll probably get one someday." "No, Nick, I don't think I will. See, I've kind of been noticing some things about myself lately." She paused again. Why was this so hard? Nick stayed silent, giving her time to collect herself. She was grateful for that. "I think it was more like, I wanted to be in a relationship, rather than I wanted to be in a relationship with you. It just seemed to make sense at the time. Everyone else had started dating or whatever, and you were my closest friend who's a boy, so yeah." "You know you don't have to be in a relationship, Imogen." "I know, but for some reason it kind of felt like I was supposed to. Sometimes it feels like everyone is supposed to have crushes, go dating, and want to get married. People all just look so happy when they do those things. I guess I wanted to be happy like that too." "I mean, you can still be in a relationship someday. There's no rush." Imogen felt a weird pang of hurt. She knew Nick was just trying to be nice, but he didn't get it. "No, I don't think that's for me." Nick wasn't quite sure what she meant by that, but he decided the best thing to do was to just keep quiet and let her explain. "See, I would've been happy if we were just going to the cinema as friends, but calling it a date made it feel different. At first it felt exciting, like 'wow, my first date!'. But, the closer it got to Saturday, the more I felt kind of uneasy about the whole thing. It wasn't like I was nervous, it was more like, something was wrong about the whole situation. I felt happy when I asked you out. I know I shouldn't have asked you in front of everyone, I should've done it privately, but a part of me wanted everyone to see how 'normal' and 'cool' I was for finally asking someone out. And I did feel normal and cool, but then when you cancelled that Saturday, I just felt relieved. But then I felt confused about how relieved I was. It tore me up for days. I didn't understand what I was feeling. Or, I guess, what I wasn't feeling. At some point I figured, maybe I was just confusing our friendship for a crush. After all, thinking about it, I wasn't sure that I'd ever really had a crush, so I wasn't really sure what they felt like. On Sunday I googled how to tell what a crush is and none of the answers really clicked. They all seemed so...foreign. A few days later I figured maybe I just hadn't met the right guy yet, so I tried imagining what that guy would be like, but it just didn't work. Romance always looked nice, but I couldn't picture myself being actually involved with someone like that. I even tried imagining myself with a girl at some point." "Did that work?" "No." Imogen laughed. "That was really just a last-ditch effort. I've never been interested in girls. I always figured I'd end up with some guy, like in the movies. But...I don't think I'm even interested in guys. I don't seem to be interested in anyone." Imogen looked like she was trying not to cry. "It was actually a scary thing to realize. I felt so lost, like I didn't even know myself." Nick cringed internally. He knew that feeling. Imogen continued explaining. "I googled why I couldn't seem to have crushes, hoping for a way to fix it. I didn't find one, but I did find some people who said they felt the same as me." Imogen took a deep breath. "I think I might be 'aromantic'. Some of the websites I found said people who are aromantic don't experience romantic attraction. Like, they don't get crushes and stuff. I still like romantic shows and movies, but I don't think I want to be in a relationship with anyone myself." There. She'd said it. The things that had been floating around in her brain for what felt like forever were finally out there. After a minute Nick realized Imogen was done explaining, and that he should probably say something. "That's good you found a word for it." he said "Do you feel any better, having a word for it?" Imogen was surprised. She hadn't expected Nick to be so chill about this. She'd expected him to be confused, or tell her she was crazy. She felt a bit like she was crazy. It was oddly relieving, knowing that he was at least trying to understand. "I think so? I don't know." Imogen shook her head "I'm not sure if it's really the right word, and I don't really know if I like it, but I think I feel less lost now." "I think I felt the same when I found the word 'bisexual'." "Wait, you're not gay?" Imogen instantly wanted to put her foot in her mouth. "No, wait, I'm sorry. That was rude." "It's alright." Nick laughed "I did think that I might've been gay for a bit when I first got my crush on Charlie. But I'd had crushes on girls before, so 'gay' didn't seem right. It was really confusing and I felt really alone for a bit. Talking to Charlie helped. Things really clicked when I found the term 'bisexual', though. At first I wasn't sure it fit me, but the definition seemed right, and over time I started to feel more and more comfortable calling myself that." "I don't know if I feel right calling myself 'aromantic'." Imogen buried her face in her hands. "It's all so confusing, it's like I don't know myself anymore. I just want things to be easy." "Hey," Imogen lifted her head and saw that Nick had his arms open, offering her a hug. With barely any hesitation, she let her body slump onto his, her face smushed against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed gently. She hadn't expected a hug to feel so nice. It was like a comfy (and kind of muscly) blanket telling her everything was going to be okay, someone was here for her. She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the sensation. For the first time in days, she didn't feel alone in her identity crisis. "You know," Nick continued to squeeze her as he spoke "you can talk to me about this stuff anytime. I think I was in the same place you are a few months ago. I get what you're saying about feeling so unsure of everything. I found it really helped me to talk to Charlie, just to say my thoughts out loud and try out ideas. I'm not sure I'll get it all right away, but I'll try to listen. You're a good friend, Imogen. I want to be there to help you." Imogen felt a few tears escaped her eyes. They were absorbed by Nick's shirt. Despite the crying, she felt good. She wasn't sure she'd ever talked about something so personal with a school friend before. It was nice, having someone there for her. She stayed in the hug for a few minutes, wanting it to last forever. Eventually, though, she had to tear herself away. "Thanks Nick." "Anytime." "I'd better get going." Imogen said, wiping some runny mascara with hand. "Sorry, didn't expect to cry like that. Better fix myself up before my nan arrives for dinner." "Yeah, I gotta get Nellie home too. Charlie's coming over." They wrangled up their respective dogs. It took a minute for Nick to wrestle the rope from them. "You know," Imogen said "Now that I've got Addie, we should meet up for dog dates more often." "Dog dates? I think Nellie's a bit old for Addie." "Play dates! You know what I meant Nick Nelson." "I think I'd really enjoy that, Imogen Heaney." They laughed as they waved goodbye to each other. "Nick," Imogen said just before she turned to leave "I really enjoyed talking to you." "Likewise." Nick nodded. "See you around." "Not if I see you first." Then they both left for real. Imogen smiled the whole way home. It felt like a weight she'd been carrying around for a long time had finally been lifted. She was glad to have a friend like Nick. He really wasn't like Harry and the others. She was feeling all brave and glowy, so she decided to try something: "I, Imogen Heaney, am aromantic." She said quietly to herself. She still wasn't sure the word felt quite right, but it did feel less wrong, and that was a start.

Silver Linings, Chapter Eight

Word Count:  2610

TW:  Frank discussion of domestic violence and injuries; talk of stalking.

AN:  Part of a series.  The series masterlist here.

Sometimes Amanda Rollins felt like the biggest fuck-up in SVU.  She’d gone through her fair share of rough patches with her gambling debts, and addiction, and issues with her sister.  In those times, she felt like a failure when compared to the cool competence of Liv or Fin, or even Nick, who punched his way into his fair share of avoidable problems.  

Other times, though, she felt like she was the only one who could see the obvious.  She knew everyone had blind spots.  Herself, she struggled with men in power.  She knew Nick struggled with victims of domestic violence.  Fin had a blind spot with gay victims, overcompensating with lingering guilt about how he handled his own son’s coming out.  The new guy, Carisi, seemed to struggle with cases involving the Catholic Church.  Liv had her own issues too.

But sometimes Amanda saw what everyone else missed.  Call it a hunch or the finely honed intuition of a seasoned detective who’d been through her own traumatic hell…like your blow-up in Barba’s office.  Barba had only seen an assistant losing her shit.  Liv had only smirked at Barba – there was probably some story there.

Amanda had seen it, clear as day.  She knew you a bit from her own cases that went through Callier.  You were always smiling and friendly and completely professional.  That day in Barba’s office, though, Amanda had seen your face twist, first in disbelief and then in anger.  

And it had been triggered by Barba’s flippant attitude about a domestic violence victim.

Amanda knew that such a sudden flare up of anger could only come from one place:  you’d obviously been in a similar situation.  Maybe it was a friend, or maybe you grew up with it.  Either way, neither Liv nor Barba saw it, so Amanda stayed back and tried to convince the ADA to go easy on you.

A few weeks later, Amanda was in Callier’s office for a possible case of rape in the third degree.  You greeted her and offered her coffee, and then offered her a seat until Callier was available.  You were back to your completely professional self, and Amanda looked you over.  

You looked, frankly, like shit.  You could probably fool other people, but Amanda noticed the little details.  Your smile didn’t reach your eyes.  Your jaw clenched and unclenched as you sat at your desk.  You rarely wore much makeup, but you had spackled concealer under your eyes, probably to cover dark circles.

Callier came out and led Amanda into her inner office, and they reviewed the evidence that Amanda had so far.  The young ADA seemed comfortable with the case and agreed that it could proceed, so she agreed to get a warrant for the suspect’s apartment.  Amanda wished it could always be that pleasant, dealing with the law side of the house.  Callier was no-nonsense and never smirked like Barba did.

On her way out, Amanda stopped by your desk.  You looked up and gave her a tired smile.

“Get everything you need?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Amanda replied.  “Rose is easy to deal with.”

You smiled at the implication – but then your face turned serious.  “I wanted to apologize for that day in Mr. Barba’s office.”  You shook your head.  “It was very unprofessional.”

Amanda waved you off.  “Don’t.  We all have bad days, and I’m always up for watching Barba get yelled at.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“He’s a big boy,” Amanda insisted.  “He can take it.  Besides, that woman flipped on her husband, so Barba was wrong.”  She looked at you.  “No one is beyond hope.”

“Maybe.”  You turned back to your computer.  “Good luck with your new case.”

-----

It was a few weeks later.  Amanda was covering the night shift with Fin, and it was quiet for a Friday.  Amaro was with his daughter who was visiting for the weekend, Carisi was studying for one final push before sitting for the bar, and Liv had been whisked off by Cassidy for some sort of reconnecting, romantic bullshit mini-vacation.  Amanda worked on CommStat reporting and pretended not to see Fin nodding off in his corner.

She was halfway through the shift when her phone rang.  It roused Fin from his dozing as she listened.  It was a sergeant with the 24th precinct.

“We have a strange situation,” the sergeant said.  “We’d like to send a potential victim over to you.”

Amanda’s ears pricked up at the term potential victim, but when the sergeant gave your name as the person he was sending over…her heart sank.

*****

Of all the emotions you’d felt in your life with Mark, the sudden calm that you felt now was new.  It wasn’t just calm either – it was an absolute stillness that had settled over your soul.  No anger or fear or sadness.  Just calm.

You had ended up at the SVU precinct.  Amanda had questioned you briefly, and then she got you a cup of tea that you let get stone-cold while she disappeared for a while.  She was probably calling Liv for instructions.

Then Detective Tutuola came into the room, followed close behind by Amanda.  He asked if you needed anything else, and you shook your head.  He settled into the seat by you, and Amanda sat across from you.  They asked you to walk they through everything.

You nodded, took a deep breath, and told your story.  Everything.

It was important in your mind to get it all down on paper.  You were convinced now that Mark was never going to let you go.  You’d hoped, a year ago, that time and distance would make him get bored with you and move on, but that wasn’t the case.

So you told the detectives your story, and you felt a sort of emptying when you did.  You told them how you started dating Mark in middle school, and how it had been fine for a while because you were young and didn’t know any better.  Dated through high school.  Dated when you both were accepted to Stanford.  Dated when you graduated and got accepted to Stanford Law, and when Mark failed out his junior year.

“By then, he was starting to be abusive,” you explained.  “But just verbally.  Mentally.  He estranged me from my friends and most of my family.  My mom loved him, thought he was the greatest guy ever.  My dad saw through him though.”

You told them how the physical abuse started soon after you got accepted to Stanford Law.  It was already a sticking point that you’d gotten your bachelor’s where Mark had failed out.  He took out his feelings of inadequacy with his hands – first just shoves and slaps, then fully curled fists.  

“I ended up dropping out before my final year,” you said with a sad shrug.  “It was too hard to keep up with class when I was always in the E.R. or nursing fresh injuries.  Another thing he took from me.”

You told them how Mark kept you cut off from the world.  He tracked your cell phone, kept tabs on your laptop. Refused to marry you – told you that he could always do better – but refused to cut you loose.  

He dealt you a concussion once, and it was the first time he knocked you unconscious.  You filed a police report after that.  Nothing came of it, so you finally had the courage to get a restraining order.  And you ran for the first time.

“It didn’t really work,” you explained.  “I was working for the California Innocence Project in San Diego.  He found me there.  Broke my arm.”

“Didn’t he get locked up for violating the restraining order?” Amanda broke in.

The smile you gave her dripped with bitterness.  “Mark is a cop.  Thin blue line.  Cops stick together, and Mark always had a story that people bought.  He’s charming and handsome.  I’m just the hysterical ex-girlfriend.  Broke my own arm to make him look bad, I guess.”

You explained how Mark followed you across California.  You were unwilling to travel too far, but when your father dropped dead from a massive coronary, you suddenly had no reason to stay.

“I went to Portland for a few months, then Chicago.  My suitemate from college had an in with the Manhattan District Attorney’s office, so I came here.”  You shrugged.  “I have half of a very good law degree, so I got the job.”

“Tell me about what’s been going on recently,” Tutuola said, and you took a deep, steadying breath.

Amanda and Tutuola listened as you explained the past month – hang ups from unlisted numbers, a few times when your apartment’s front door intercom went off.  How your restraining order expired and you couldn’t get it renewed.  How you got emails from burner addresses that said, simply, “I see you.”

“And there’s this,” you finally said.  You reached into your purse and pulled out a plain white envelope.  It looked like the address was typed across the front of it.

Amanda opened it and pulled out a piece of paper.  “It’s blank,” she said.  She held it to her nose, - it smelled like it had been soaked in cheap drugstore perfume.

You nodded.  “Yes, but do you smell it?”  You gave that bitter smile again.  “Mark hated the perfume I wore.  He wanted me to wear something more musky.  He bought me a bottle of the stuff he liked once, I told him I preferred something lighter.”  You paused.  “That was the first time he hit me.”

Amanda slid the blank paper back into the envelope while Tutuola made a note on his legal pad.  

“I know none of this proves anything,” you continued.  “I know the standard of proof is a preponderance of evidence.  Mark is clever.  I know it’s him but I can’t prove it, and I think that is half the game for him.  But this…” You tapped the envelope.  “This proved he knows where I live now.  It was in my mail box when I got home this evening.  It’s meant to send a message, but bringing it to the cops means nothing for a case.”

“We could pull evidence from your original case in California,” Amanda offered.  “Start building a new case…”

“No,” you shook your head.  “Half of the reports I filed on him were with his own department.  I bet they’ve been shredded.  He worked in our hometown’s police force and that’s where the real abuse started.  I was young and dumb and thought cops were good then.”  You looked at them.  “No offense.”

Tutuola waved you off.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“And the only person who ever truly believed I was being abused was my dad.  Who’s dead now.  Everyone else was charmed by Mark.  My own mom would probably tell you that I’m overreacting and that Mark was nothing but a perfect gentleman.  That I’m a klutz who’s given herself a concussion and a greenstick fracture.”

Amanda gazed at you a moment.  “We’ll figure something out.  I promise.”

You gave her a smile, but you could feel the tears threatening to fall.  “There’s nothing to figure out,” you told her.  You reached out and tapped on Tutuola’s notes.  “It’s just, if something happens to me, I want people to know.”  You swiped at your face, almost angrily, as one tear and then another rolled down the side of your nose.

“We’ll talk to the D.A.’s office,” Tutuola insisted.  “We protect our own here in New York, and that includes you.”

“Don’t bother,” you replied.  You stood up to leave.  “I never sat for the bar and even I could tell you that there’s no case.  But now you know.”  You swiped the heel of your hand against your eyes again, wiping away the tears.  

*****

Amanda tried to drive you home, but you only waved her off.  She was concerned about the situation in general, but you just seemed like you’d given up.  Aside from a few tears at the end of your interview, there was no emotion.  Just a flat-affect with some bitterness as you walked her and Fin through a veritable lifetime of trauma.

She sat and typed up her own notes with Fin’s, and then she thought about next steps.  You were probably right – there was no actual case since nothing could be proven.  Still…she logged into the FBI’s National Crime Information Center and searched on your ex’s name.

By the time Liv returned to work on Monday morning, a file folder was waiting on her desk for her, and it contained a lot more information than just SVU’s own notes.  There had been at least one person in your ex’s own police department looking out for you because everything was filed and available in NCIC.

*****

It was late Monday morning when Liv came striding into Rafael’s office.  He was just back himself from a meeting with McCoy, and he had only settled at his desk when Carmen announced his visitor.

“Liv,” he said, standing to greet her with a smile.  “What do you need?  Warrant, advice, or a legal miracle?”

“I’m good on warrants, so maybe the other two.”  She took off her coat and settled into the seat across from him, but she didn’t return his smile.  “I need advice first.”

“Okay….”  He drew out the word and sat back down.  He leaned back and kicked his feet up on his desk.  “Go ahead.”

“Theoretically speaking,” she started, and Rafael could see her choosing each word carefully.  “What legal recourse would a person have if they were a victim of domestic violence, had a period of quiet, and then started to experience harassment from their abuser?”  Rafael started to open his mouth, but Liv held up a quieting hand.  “And there’s no way to prove the current harassment?”

“Restraining order,” he said.  “It’s the best you can do, until proof of the harassment can be obtained.”  He looked at her a long moment.  “That was an easy question.  You take the long walk here just to ask that?”

“So there’s nothing else that can be done?”

He shook his head.  “Not in New York.”

“What if she had a restraining order in another state, and when it expired, she couldn’t renew here?”

He frowned.  “She should have been able to, depending on the judge she got.”

“She wasn’t able to.”

“This doesn’t sound theoretical anymore.”  He nodded at the file in Liv’s lap.  “You have a case?”

She hesitated.  “Yes and no.  No proof yet.  Just prior bad acts and…an interview with the complainant.”

He arched an eyebrow at this and she continued.  “Again, there’s no proof.  But she went to her local precinct to, quote ‘get information down on paper in case something happened to her.’  And the 24th went ahead and sent her to us.”

The 24th precinct was his own local police precinct.  Rafael’s interest was sufficiently piqued, and he held out a hand for the file.

Liv hesitated again as she held the file up.  “I’m only bringing it to you because you were the best option,” she said.  “O’Dwyer would slam the door on me for such a non-case.”  Another pause.  “And Callier is a conflict of interest.  You are too, I suppose, but desperate times…”

Rafael removed his crossed feet from his desk and surged forward to snatch the file out of Liv’s hand.  He didn’t even have to open it – your name, last name comma first name, was printed in Amanda’s recognizable scrawl across the file tab.  He felt his stomach sink, but he settled back in his seat and opened the folder.

Send this to people you'd like to know better.

thank you lovely @lowkeyanakin for tagging me. and i'm also sorry to everyone because I can't be concise even if you paid me.

What book are you currently reading? I haven't picked up my kindle in an age but last time I read it was Critical by Matt Morgan, who is an Intensive Care Doctor, talking about some of his experiences, particularly through Covid. Going to try and read a couple of new things over the Christmas break.

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year? To be fair it was the ONLY film I saw in the cinema this year, but it was Guillermo Del Toro's Pinocchio. I love that tiny blue cricket and I don't care who knows it.

What do you usually wear? At the moment it switches between midi dresses and ankle boots or trainers, or leggings and big slouchy tops with ankle boots or trainers. I almost always have a scarf on from about October to March. (Can you tell it's -3 here and that's all I'm preoccupied with?)

How tall are you? Small enough that I had to stand on a pallet when I had to be on camera for some filming a couple of weeks ago. Rude.

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event? I'm a gemini and I fit it right down to the ground. One of the most famous people I share my birthday with is now a notorious anti-semite unfortunately so I'm going to go with Tim Berners Lee instead.

Do you go by your name or a nick-name? Usually my name IRL but I have a ton of nicknames, some of which have absolutely no relation to my actual name. I get cas, cassiopeia, casserole from the online besties. My old work pals call me johnson (which is not my surname and isn't even close but it's a long story) but usually it's case if it's a RL pal, or sweetpea if it's my dad.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child? I don't know, because I flitted between ideas for a long time. I wanted to be a magazine editor for a time when I was about 8, and did work in magazine publishing for a couple of years, but really when I was a teenager, I wanted to be a doctor in emergency medicine. I wanted to be a cinematographer during university, but I ended up in marketing and comms instead, like most humanities grads.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one? Single and 100% good with it. There's this fit Scottish guy though who keeps making films about these wars in space, I don't know if you've heard of them or anything....?

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at? I never know what to say for these things. I know I'm very thoughtful, and I put a lot of thought into my friendships, and my gifts, and my work, because that's just how I'm made. I'm terrible at asking for help, because the fear of burdening people is embedded deep down in me. Even though I would never ever see anyone else as a burden, ever. It's weird how it works.

Dogs or cats? CATS ALL DAY EVERY DAY.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this year?  I thought I'd written something this year but it was actually LAST YEAR. Good god. However I did do a couple of little crappy sketches a couple of weeks ago (the drawing was crappy, not the content) of @thetorontokid and @weaponizedwit's beautiful little cats which I quite liked doing.

What’s something you would like to create content for? I'd literally like to create content for ANYTHING at the moment. My brain is a bit atrophied from constantly creating work content but never fun fandom stuff. I'd like to try and write some fic soon, and do more art too.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with? Ewan Gordon McGregor.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year? This is going to be a controversial one for some so I'm going to be very specific; Obi Wan Kenobi's WRITING. All the right parts were in play, but it never felt like the writing ever went below a shallow glance over the story. And the acting was so great and deserved so much better. So yeah, Joby Harold - do better, you prick.

What’s a hidden talent of yours? Again, I have no idea what to put for these things. I don't know that I even have any talents!

Are you religious? No.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment? For one of my best pals, who is currently in labour, to have her baby safely and without any drama. Beyond that, I'd like to be able to hang out with my gremlin pals without an ocean in the way. Otherwise, I'm all good.

I'm never on here much now (I know I know I'm sorry) so I don't know who has already done this - so I'm just going to tag the gremlins @thetorontokid and @weaponizedwit and lovely brit @obiknights

Weekend Top Ten #594

Top Ten Individual Film Series Within the MCU

One of the more-or-less unique things about the Marvel Cinematic Universe back when it all kicked off is that you had these individual movies about separate heroes, which had their own sequels and continuity and suchlike, but they were all also interconnected in a shared universe. When Avengers came out in 2012, there’d never quite been something like it before cinematically; a team-up movie starring solo heroes from their own franchises.

(I say “more-or-less” because there have, of course, been other film series where different individual films followed different characters but had the possibility to interact with other characters; the X-Men films began in 2000, and the first solo Wolverine movie came out in 2009, just a year after Iron Man. There, though, I think it’s fair to say that it was a spin-off from an existing franchise. Star Trek, too, had separate stories that had the potential to cross over, but really it only amounted to, say, Bashir showing up on the Enterprise, or Admiral Janeway popping up on a viewscreen in Nemesis. Really, what the MCU was doing had never been done before on any kind of scale or across so many different movies)

Anyway, nowadays, with multiple films and TV shows, we’re more than used to characters who debuted in one corner of the MCU becoming supporting characters in another corner. James “War Machine” Rhodes was an Iron Man character who ended up as an Avenger and has since popped up in Falcon and the Winter Soldier and Secret Invasion. The entire MCU Spider-Man saga has hung upon the gimmick of each movie featuring an established character guest-starring alongside Peter Parker; first Iron Man, then Nick Fury, then Doctor Strange. And let’s not forget Wong, who’s been in about 97 different films since Endgame. But at its core the MCU was always about individual “franchises”; separate series of films following one hero (or a team, I suppose). These franchises or series would then interact and intersect in a major crossover event – basically an Avengers movie. After the first Avengers, which established the template, the MCU upped the ante by bringing in the Guardians of the Galaxy in Infinity War before basically having every single MCU character on-screen in Endgame. These, though, are supposed to be big events; Crisis-Level Events as the DCU used to call them. It’s meant to be a big deal, but at the same time, we’re meant to just enjoy the separate film series, following our favourite heroes from one film to another.

So within the overall arching continuity of the MCU, you’ve got these discrete stories, following one hero or one group from one film to another. Yes, increasingly, there is overlap – Tony Stark’s story is every bit as informed by the evens of a Captain America movie as his own – but you’ve still got a bunch of trilogies kicking about. And which is top? That’s what I’m deciding here. Which hero’s own little saga, within the MCU, is the best? This is harder than you’d think, for a couple of reasons. One is that a few characters – like Tony – have an awful lot of development outside their own sagas. Another is that often the quality is quite variable, as we’ll see; a hero might have one or two genuinely barnstorming films, but the average quality of the others pulls their saga down a bit. And also we have the problem that, well, there aren’t really ten sets of films here.

How’ve I worked it out then? Basically, if there’s a set of films named after a hero, then that counts. Guardians are pretty easy in this regard, because you’ve got three films and a Christmas special. Even if a character stars in another film, though, it only counts as their franchise if the film’s named after them. So, for instance, Nick Fury has been in a dozen or so films at this point, but I’d argue the only one about him is Secret Invasion (which, yes, is a show not a film but I’m using terms interchangeably at this point). And I think you have to have at least two films (or a film and a show), which sadly discounts the likes of Captain Marvel or Shang-Chi. I was going to say that a character having two seasons of a show would count as two separate entries, but no MCU show has had a second season yet; and, yes, that means I’m not counting the old Netflix shows, or Agents of SHIELD, or anything like that. Only the Disney+ stuff is definitively MCU I’d argue. So, yeah, even though Loki season 2 is imminent, as is The Marvels (which is a “second part” to both Captain Marvel and Ms. Marvel, I guess), as things stand all three of those characters have to be discounted right now.

I think in the future I will do another list that ranks the individual characters’ arcs across all MCU films; so, like, how does Star-Lord progress along the entire overall franchise, including his four Guardians appearances and two Avengers movies. That sort of thing. But right now this is about films; which films are the best, and therefore which hero’s own films make for the best mini-franchise within the overall sprawling maxi-franchise.

Make sense? No? Good.

Captain America, 2011-2016 (The First Avenger, The Winter Soldier, Civil War): this is the only series of films within the MCU where I’d give each of them five stars, and all of them sit very high in my personal top ten. Why? Well, it’s partly the execution – these are just very well-made films; the first an old-fashioned men-on-a-mission adventure, the second an on-the-run paranoid thriller, and the third a huge-scale superhero epic. But the heart of these is Steve Rogers, and what he represents, his philosophy underpinning everything, the DNA of the series. The tone and script and cinematography and arc of it all reinforces Steve’s beliefs of honesty and fairness and strength, seen in the friendships forged (Bucky, Sam, Natasha), the sense of sacrifice, and in the bittersweet dramatic ironies at play (Peter unknowingly giving Steve’s argument back to Tony in Civil War). Captain America may be the ideal hero of Marvel, both in print and on screen, and his series of film is the ideal of the whole MCU.

Guardians of the Galaxy, 2014-2023 (Vols 1-3, Holiday Special): the Guardians are great because they’re these big, dumb space adventures that have a kind of filthy streak of irreverence running through them. They’re totally enjoyable as daft action comedies, with their tree aliens and Jackson Pollock jokes and discussions about planets having penises. Except underpinning it all is a really strong emotional heart; James Gunn understands that if you make characters that are just enjoyable to be around, then when bad stuff happens to them it hits harder. The discussion of trauma and grief may be subtly played and pitched at a particular register, but it’s still very real and a massive theme of the trilogy-and-a-bit. And the fact that two supporting characters – Rocket and Nebula – turned out to be the leads of the whole shebang is a great piece of slow-burn development.

The Avengers, 2012-2019 (The Avengers, Age of Ultron, Infinity War, Endgame): the first Avengers was totally unexpected, a terrific ensemble action comedy that took the tone established by Iron Man and filtered it through disparate characters to really define the voice of the MCU. We all hoped it would be good, but with so many plates to spin, I think quite how good was a surprise. Age of Ultron is still pretty good too, but a lot messier; however, it’s the two-part Infinity War/Endgame finale that astounds. Talk about Avengers having plates, these two films had to wrap up ten years and twenty movies’ worth of story, giving satisfying, era-closing arcs to major characters, paying off dozens of hours of development. It’s frankly bonkers that it succeeded, the kind of once-in-a-generation achievement that is just phenomenal to behold. Yes, the epic nature of these films means that sometimes they lack the nuance and focus of a single character piece; but like the best crossover comic book sagas, this hits in a particular register and stands as a spectacle from modern mainstream blockbuster cinema.

Spider-Man, 2017-2021 (Homecoming, Far From Home, No Way Home): the MCU Spidey largely differentiates itself from both the Spider-Man films that came before and most of the rest of the universe by focusing on being a “Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man”; it’s a terrifically-played high school comedy with superhero adventures thrown in. The winning chemistry between Peter, Ned, and MJ all contributes to making these films feel smaller-scale but still important, with a funny, friendly, dynamic. The first one is terrific, the second one a bit looser, but the trilogy overall is elevated by the operatic, epic finale. Far more than just a meta bit of fan service, No Way Home’s references to universes that came before has been the MCU’s best use of the multiverse to date, and the way its central tragedies and notions of sacrifice tie into Peter’s philosophy – going all the way back to that bedside chat with Tony in Civil War – is excellent.

Iron Man, 2008-2013 (Iron Man 1-3): where it all began, a tonally pitch-perfect introduction to the universe. RDJ’s Tony is a masterpiece of a performance, bottling lightning with his rambling, hilarious delivery, louche demeanour, and toughness in he face of danger. He immediately anchors the universe in a sense of heightened realism, and whilst the first film is fairly traditional in its origin story structure, it still serves as a great launchpad for the franchise. Yes, the second film is ropey, but still enjoyable; there’s little further character development and it once again ends with robot suits fighting robot suits, but we get Don Cheadle and Scarlett Johansen and Sam Rockwell, and that ain’t bad. However, the real heavy lifter here is the night-on perfect Iron Man 3, which unpicks the character, offers greater depths, shows his resourcefulness in unique ways, gives us a bigger but also more interesting robot suit finale, and has the entire MCU’s best twist of all time. You can judge a person’s entire character by whether or not they like Iron Man 3. It’s true.

Thor, 2011-2022 (Thor, The Dark World, Ragnarok, Love and Thunder): Thor is one of my favourite MCU characters – well, Marvel characters full stop – but his films are a little bit variable. The first one is definitely enjoyable, a very arch and stylised high fantasy epic mees dork fish-out-of-water comedy; the second attempts to add a layer of darkness but is incredibly muddled and creaky. It was Taika Waititi who realised both the comedic potential of the concept and its star, giving us the hilarious Ragnarok – which, for all its comedy, still gives us multiple character deaths and the destruction of Asgard. Waititi also leaned into the wild Jack Kirby comic book iconography, with some brilliantly realised sci-fi design that’s evocative of Heavy Metal magazine. Love and Thunder is divisive, but personally I adored it; yes, the comedy is broader and the story itself a bit woollier, but it’s also a film where its themes are carried over perfectly into its subject matter, and the realisation of why it’s called “Love and Thunder” hit me like a ton of bricks.

Ant-Man, 2015-2023 (Ant-Man, Ant-Man and the Wasp, Quantumania): a bit like Spider-Man, the Ant-Man films revel in their low stakes. I don’t think they’re quite as charming or successful, but they’re still great; street-level caper comedies of escalating craziness, with their goofy, affable charm heightened by the way Peyton Reed handles the whole size-changing concept. This gives us some great special effects and action scenes, true; but it also offers the potential for great gags (Hank’s building turning into a carry case; the giant Thomas the Tank Engine). Quantumania is a different beast, retaining the films’ cheery, dopey humour, but injecting a little bit more pathos and a lot more action, a technicolour sci-fi marvel that definitely isn’t for everyone – and I think has the real risk of putting off people who really enjoyed the low-key charm of the first two – but still gives us a really exciting Avengers-style romp.

Black Panther, 2018-2022 (Black Panther, Wakanda Forever): now we’re getting onto film series with fewer entries, and here I think we begin to see individual films having more of an impact. Because I would have thought Black Panther would have ranked higher on the strength of its first film; a brilliantly realised bit of Afro-Futurism from Ryan Coogler, with a commanding central performance and fantastically constructed world. Wakanda was unlike anything we’d seen before, and even if the story descended into usual mo-cap superhero tropes, it still gave us moments like Killmonger’s “bury me at sea” speech. The sequel, perhaps, could never live up to it; especially once the tragedy of Chadwick Boseman’s death unfolded. You can, sadly, see the joins where the existing narrative had to be retrofitted to harsh realities, but regardless, it’s still a very uneven film, with moments of great power nestled amongst wasted characters, back-and-forth plotting, and a rather wet finale.

Doctor Strange, 2014-2022 (Doctor Strange, Multiverse of Madness): two films here that, perhaps individually, pale before Black Panther, but hold their own against its sequel. The first Strange is a somewhat by-the-numbers MCU origin – mardy protagonist gets some powers or something, learns not to be quite so much of a dick – but the wacky visuals give it strength and originality. Leaning into that, the sequel has even bolder, weirder moments, but brilliantly they’re filtered through the prism of Sam Raimi’s gonzo horror lens. A zombie Strange with a cloak of demons; Wanda emerging from a cracked mirror; Black Bolt’s head. True, it doesn’t make quite as much out of the multiverse concept as it could have; and the sudden development of some of its characters isn’t really handled in a as nuanced a way as perhaps we’d like. But overall these are two very good films, with great visuals and a nice sense of freakiness.

The Incredible Hulk, 2010-2022 (The Incredible Hulk, She-Hulk: Attorney at Law): okay, here’s where we get really tenuous. The fact is, there have only been nine proper series within the MCU; that is, a film that’s had a sequel. I was briefly tempted to include Captain Marvel and Ms. Marvel, but those are really two separate things that are crossing over this winter in The Marvels, even though there’s obviously a lot of connective tissue. So, to get it to ten, I cheated a bit, and decided that She-Hulk was sort of a continuation of the overall Hulk franchise within the MCU. Bruce Banner is a major supporting character, after all, with the extended first episode dealing with him and situation quite a bit; and there’s a major revelation towards the end too. Tim Roth reappears. And She-Hulk herself kinda carries on his whole legacy… so it fits? I guess? It’s moot, really, because despite She-Hulk (the show) being a really funny, fourth-wall-breaking meta-commentary on the MCU, sitcoms, TV, and all sorts of stuff too, it’s not really enough to lift The Incredible Hulk out of the doldrums. It’s fine, I guess, the movie; there’s some interesting stuff about Bruce trying to control his anger. But it’s never as exciting or interesting or amusing as, say, Iron Man or Captain America, and the big effects-driven monster-mash finale is a big damp gloomy squib. Overall, things are good – She-Hulk really is terrific – but sadly Incredible Hulk remains my least-favourite MCU movie. Never mind; he had a lot of development in other people’s movies, so it’s all good.

Do you think Joe Jonas and Sophie are really together and really have a baby? I’m curious what you think since you have followed three fake 1D pregnancies and I think you said you were a Jonas Brothers fan. Sorry if I’m mixing you up with another blog! I’m not in the JB fandom but I occasionally read about them and I like Joe and Sophie as people. But the way their relationship and Nick & Priyanka’s relationship have been portrayed in the media seems PR/bearding to me.

i am indeed an og jobros fan (been so since about '07) and i agree with you about the way both brothers' relationships have been weirdly pushed to the fandom and portrayed in the media (esp inserting all their wives into the music vids and whatnot and making most early comeback promo all about their marriages/wives, ugh no thank you). but i have to admit i've kinda tuned most of the relationship stuff out the same way i often do for ot5, though that tuning out is prob on a much heavier scale for the jobros these days cause 1) i just don't have the energy lol and 2) i've first and foremost ALWAYS been here for the music above everything else when it comes to any musicians i like. (my paying as much attention to personal lives or relationships like i have for ziam/ot5 was a novelty tbh, and probably a standalone from any other music/artist-related fandoms i have been or will ever be in)

that said, from the little i've seen/heard of things, nick's is absolutely a pr relationship and i believe that with my whole soul. i don't feel like i need a lot to go on to see that they don't really have much chemistry or seem compatible as people. ofc i could always remain to be surprised but i don't think i will. they'll probably get quietly divorced in another couple years/whenever the contract becomes less advantageous or they get tired enough of each other.

as for joe & sophie, it's harder to tell...again, possibly cause i just haven't paid close enough attention to things. but on the surface i will say they seem genuinely very compatible and warm/cute and friendly together so even if it isn't legit, i think there is some degree of friendship (or some sort of positive working relationship and some common interests/personality traits) there at least. although like i said, i could be wrong and just be being fooled by the few surface interactions i've seen and my not paying closer attention.

HOWEVER

the pics i've seen of them out and about with the baby were indeed what caught my eye and made me more genuinely start wondering if there was something a little odd there as it rings a little too closely with z's "family outing" pics wherein joe looks about as interested to be there as eleanope at a louis concert lol. which is to say he's often on his phone/looking away/standing or walking like 500 feet away with around 2 feet of space from sophie or the stroller when he's not looking bored af pushing it (or looking like he could care less about having to be out with them on a pap walk), and from what i could see never actually holding the kid himself. it definitely looks odd, but again i'm not as up on the details and from what bits i did see of sophie's pregnancy and their relationship beforehand from dating to the marriage things def looked a lot more "normal" than they ever did w/ z*gi or ch*am or laya (though ofc normal is relative lol, esp in the world of pr dating and closeting. but like at least joe&sophie had actual freaking baby bags and blankets while out, didn't take their newborn out in the middle of fucking snowstorms in the middle of the night where literally zero other grown adults even felt safe enough to be outside, and sophie got photog'd with a legitimate pregnant belly out and about multiple times and not weirdly trying to hide it, etc.). i will admit the vegas wedding was a tad weird and out of left field but at the same time still felt very much in character for joe's rather eccentric personality (and sophie who seems like a bit of a weirdo in a fun way too from what i've seen of her lol). so all that in mind i'm still inconclusive on them (the pics could just be happenstance cause maybe he just didn't want him or his family being dragged through obligatory pap walks by whoever greenlit it and that was his way of getting through it, or was genuinely just killing time while they walked, or maybe there really is something larger there idk)...i'm keeping a very tiny corner of an eye on it, and an open mind to multiple possibilities, but just don't have enough info (or motivation) to dive into it enough to really say anything conclusive for sure 🤷🏽‍♀️

I want this to be a short request but how would crushing!companions react to sole who holds their hand whenever they get scared and it slowly turns into a habit for them to always hold onto his hand?

omg this is literally so cute, bye. 🥺💗 i hope you enjoy, anon.

to keep it short, i’ll just write their reactions to when sole holds their hand and i will put ‘companions react to sole holding their hand as a habit’ in a separate post! <3

-

Danse:

it’s nothing new in his life— he’s experienced his fair share of people holding onto him during stressful and terrifying situations, so it’s something he’s used to. however, sole is an exception in this case. it’s been quite a while since he’s caught feelings for his companion, so it’s different in certain situations with them.

when they first get startled and hold his hand, he tenses up, his mind going completely blank as they wrap their fingers around his palm. though millions of people have done the same action to him in the past, this one feels different and he swears it makes him feel emotions he’s never truly felt before. before he can question what their intentions were, he noticed how they drew closer to him, eyes frantically scanning their surroundings and he realizes that there may have been an uncomfortable presence around.

so danse slowly takes a breath and squeezes their hand in return, looking down at them with red cheeks and a nervous expression. “you’re safe, don’t worry. if there appears to be any threat within our vacinity, i will neutralize it as best as i can.” when they look at him with a relieved smile, he feels his heart swell with emotions he’s never felt in his lifetime. he doesn’t dare to let go until sole feels safe enough to do so and even when they do, he fights the urge to take their hand in his once more.

instead, he impatiently waits for the next time he has the chance to hold their hand in his again, already excited though he refuses to admit it.

Deacon:

deacons not a very affection man nor has he received any affection from any other individual besides his late other half. To say this situation was terrifying for him was an understatement. he’s probably already dreading the fact that he has an unavoidable crush for his companion, not wanting to deal with that type of stress no longer.

the first time his crush rushes to hold his hand out of fear of their surroundings, he immediately pulls away out of habit and stares at them with a lump in his throat, words scrambled and refusing to leave his mouth for a moment. “i-, uh-“

with a mortified expression, sole waves it off with a flush on their face and an embarrassed tone, “shit i’m sorry. it’s just a habit, please don’t mind me.” they slowly distance themselves away from him and deacon quickly gets his act together, inwardly panicking that he may have hurt their feelings unintentionally. “no, it’s fine. i just- uh.” they tilt their head with a confused expression and instead of explaining himself, he lets out a soft apology and awkwardly goes on his way to save him the embarrassment. when he thinks about it later, he feels a pang of guilt hit him and realizes he may have been too harsh, so he tries to make an exception.

next time around, when sole does accidentally jump to grab his hand, it takes him a moment to calm himself down but does gather the courage to return the gesture. he would notice the surprised expression on soles face, and even though he’s internally losing it, he musters up the same shit eating smile he always has and cracks a joke; “charmer, i know it’s hard to stay away from me, but you could at least try.” when sole doesn’t respond and sends him a confused expression, he gives them a small smile and tugs their hand, “that’s okay though, i don’t mind. good ol’ deeks will scare the monsters away.”

when sole lets out a small chuckle, he feels himself grow agitated and immediately whips around to hide the blush on his face as he drags sole along with him. “we better get going if we wanna get outta this scary place. yknow, before you jump out of your shoes.”

Maccready:

he’s very to himself in most situations and values his personal space just as much as most people do in the commonwealth. he believes in a personal bubble and really enforces that idea, respecting his own personal space as well as others. however in this case, mac is probably just as scared as sole is, though he may be a lot better at hiding it.

when sole does grab his hand, he doesn’t give attention to it at first due to him being scared as well but when he does notice them showing signs of fear, he tries to reassure them, even though he’s flustered at the sudden contact. with a deep breath, he sucks in his negative emotions and decides to step up to bring comfort to them.

“hey, you okay?” when sole doesn’t respond, he just pulls them closer and squeezes their hand gently to grab their attention. when they do look at him, he smiles awkwardly, a inevitable blush dusting his cheeks. “earth to sole?”

when they explain their habit of doing so, he tries to lighten the mood by telling stories about his life in the capital wasteland and how he felt during his time at little lamplight, letting them know that he had similar fears and still continues to have them despite him experiencing the wasteland for years.

soon enough, their hands naturally find home in each other as they both continue exchanging similar experiences they’ve had, laughter filling the silence that sole feared just moments back.

Hancock:

hancocks a very touchy man and people do show him quite a lot of affection, so just like danse, he’s used to the constant attention others show him, only this time, the perspective is a little different. he enjoys it far more than other companions and doesn’t mind when they rush to hold his hand, though it catches him off guard.

for a moment, he processes the events occurring but once he does, he lets out a soft smile and a chuckles under his breath. he wants to let out a flirtatious comment or two, but fights the urge and instead, soothes their fear instead of embarrassing them.

“don’t worry, sunshine. you know i wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.” he’d rub his thumb against their knuckles and smiles when he sees the tenseness in their body melt away. “in fact..”

when he lets go of their hand, he sees the panic grow on their face and lets out a small chuckle. with a swift movement, he gently throws his arm over their shoulder and pulls them closer, rubbing their arm reassuringly.

“.. this might be a little more comforting. no matter what happens, i’ll always be ready to protect you this way. don’t you agree?” when they chuckle and nod at his suggestion, he pulls them closer to his body, whispering loud enough for them to hear.

“ ‘m always here for you, sunshine. you don’t ever have to be scared, especially with me around. don’t ever feel like you have to hide it from me.” sole lets out a small hum before leaning into his touch, trusting every word that left his mouth.

Nick Valentine:

nick is very understanding with a situation like this and doesn’t mind it one bit. though he does get a bit flustered, he tries to play out the scenario in a way where they won’t feel embarrassed about the events occurring. he’s aware that everyone has their fair share of fears, no matter how tough you play out to be.

“things can get pretty scary around here, i know.” when he smiles down at them, they feel a sense of ease and relax into his touch instead of having the urge to pull away. “waking up 200 years later in a completely different life will do that to you.”

sole would sigh and hold his hand tighter, their voice barely a whisper as their cheeks flush with embarrassment. “i wonder how you do it sometimes.”

nick lets out a small laugh at their reaction. “it wasn’t always like this, sweetheart. i was just as scared as you, maybe even worse.” sole looks at him with curiosity as he continues on, “theres always something new everyday but soon you’ll learn how to adapt to it.”

“you think so?”

“i know so.” his words are full of reassurance and comfort, allowing sole to let go of any negative feelings that filled their chest.

“good thing i have the best companion in the wasteland to guide me around this hellhole.” sole puts it out as a joke, but knows a part of it was the truth that she was wholeheartedly grateful for.

he proceeded to rub his thumb on their knuckles, feeling a sense of happiness in their comment, “i’ll do my best to meet your expectations, partner.”

Preston:

poor boy. he’d be a blushing mess if sole were to ever do something as simple as this. if they were to dart to grab his hand, even out of fear, he’d stutter in confusion, obviously flustered at the idea of them latching onto him. “w-what are you d-doing?”

his body would immediately freeze upon contact, stopping in his tracks despite the possibility of getting attacked at any given moment. when he catches the terror in their expression, he’s reminded that the general has their weak points too. so instead of questioning their actions any further, he tries to reassure them despite his pounding heart.

“did you wanna turn around? we can always find another route. we could even send a team of minutemen to do this for us.” when sole shakes their hand and swallows the lump in their throat, preston lets out a soft sigh and smiles at them softly.

“just leaving the suggestion out there, general. say the word and we’ll turn right back around.” sole would shake their head, their stubbornness peeking through the look of fear twisting on their face. “it’s fine. i can’t be selfish and let it get to me.”

preston would feel his heart swell at their sacrifice and the determination that they held, despite the odds going against them. gently, he squeezed their hand and looked down at them, seeing the curious expression on their face. “if that’s the case, just know i’m confident that nothing will tear you down. i have your back every step of the way,” he pauses for a moment, rubbing the nape of his neck nervously with a dorky smile, “even if it mean- uh -holding my hand. i’d be more than happy to.”

after a few moments of silence, sole processed his words and smiled at him in response, returning the squeeze. “thank you, preston.”

Sturges:

sturges is aware he isn’t the strongest man in the commonwealth nor does he have the ability to protect sole in most situations. however, if he had a choice, he would do the best he could and he knows that sole is aware of his intentions. yet, when they yelp with fear and lunge to him, taking his hand in theirs, he realizes that maybe he isn’t as weak as he sought out to be.

“you holding up ‘lright, sweetheart?” when they notice their actions, their expression slowly twists into a terrified one and they attempt to retrieve their hand as quickly as they can. sturges doesn’t stop them from doing so and instead just laughs heartily and offers his hand to them despite their reaction.

“i’m fine with it, yknow. i wasn’t complainin’ or anything, just wanted to check if you’re okay.” sole hesitates for a moment, eyes flickering from his hand to his face before replying. “are you sure it’s okay? it just gave me a little scare, you don’t have to-“

before they could continue, he moves closer, taking their hand in his with a light blush on his cheeks and a reassuring smile plastered on his face. “it’s the least i can do for you.” his actions are more than enough to reassure sole and they nod, accepting his offer. “thank you, sturges.”

Gage:

he doesn’t like crushes— gage is so used to the habit of a one night stand and constant hook ups that he absolutely forgets how loving someone feels like. as sole grips his hand in fear, he chokes up for a good second and immediately gets himself together, retreating his hand and glaring at them.

“the fuck you think you’re doing?” despite his tough demeanor, his voice becomes slightly shaky and a small tinge of pink dusts his cheek. this doesn’t go unnoticed at first, but sole knows they’re too distracted to point it out.

they would apologize with an embarrassed expression and he’d avert his eyes elsewhere before continuing on; “yer the damn overboss, some stupid shit like this shouldn’t scare you. you gotta be tougher than that if yer gonna survive in this world.”

he doesn’t realize the words that leave his mouth until his eyes fall on sole, who’s clearly embarrassed and overwhelmed with the situation and immediately feels a tinge of guilt. with a quiet groan, he slows down and averts his eyes elsewhere, waiting for them to pick up the pace. when sole lets out a confused hum, he forces the words to leave his mouth.

“hurry up and get in front of me, why don’t ya’? yer acting like i’d let the overboss get hurt on my watch.”

they would pause for a moment at his words but feel a sense of reassurance knowing that gage had their back, despite his attitude towards them. “okay.” sole would smile at him softly and he’d scoff, fighting the blush threatening to creep up on his face. this stupid love bullshit was doing nothing but holding him back.

“yeah, yeah. lets get a move on before i leave ya out here to get eaten.”

Hey I love your blog! If it isn’t too much trouble, could you do one of the companions reacting to Sole getting an unsolicited dick pic?

FO4 Companions React to Sole Receiving an Unsolicited Dick Pic

So I know the ask said one of the companions, but I just did 'em all cuz I got carried away (as I always seem to). This was definitely an interesting one to think about, and suuuuper fun to write. Thanks for the ask!

I ended up doing a little scenario at the top that'll apply to all of the reactions, and just kind of give context for the fateful event to take place (since phones/the internet aren't really a canon element in FO, I put this scenario together instead.)

Given the nature of this ask, there's a just bit of NSFW under the cut!

Sole had woken up like any other day. Heading down the stairs of their Diamond City home to make breakfast, trying to be quiet in order to keep from disturbing their companion in the other room. However, as they passed their front door, they noticed something peeking out of the mail slot.

The paper isn't meant to come out until tomorrow...

Curious, Sole reached for the little white square of photo paper, and noticed some writing in the corner. There was an address and the words, "if you like what you see, meet me here tonight," accompanied by a little arrow pointing to flip the photo over. Their intrigue got the better of them, and Sole did as the writing suggested, turning it over for a brief second before immediately regretting it. They recoiled at the phallic image, their surprise evident in the small yelp they uttered in response to the sight before them.

They heard their companion stir from the other room, and then their footsteps sounded from behind as they approached questioningly.

"What have you got there?" They asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," Sole said, turning to face them, "just some mail, is all." Sole's words dripped with distaste, and yet... they felt an overwhelming need to share their unsightly discovery with the person in front of them.

"Wanna see?" They asked, mercilessly turning the picture so their companion could clearly make out the offensive image.

Cait:

*scoffs*

"What, they think that's somethin' te brag about? The damn thing's so wee, I almost couldn't make it out." She'd say with a smile, offering up her hand so she could take the picture and tear it in half. Cait effectively would make the decision for her companion in regards to the comment on the back of the photo. She knows this type of man, and she'd be sure that Sole wouldn't be meeting the asshole anywhere tonight. However, should she be able to sneak away while Sole is sleeping... Cait might just pay a visit to the specified location, where she'd surely give that asshole a piece of her mind, and at least one taste of her fist.

Curie:

Her eyebrows would furrow, and the synth would cock her head to the side in her confusion. Being locked away in a vault with three men for so many years, acting as their doctor, meant she had seen her fair share of the male sex organ. But now, Curie was confused, why did this man feel the need to send Sole a photograph of his penis? Was there something wrong with it? Did he want them to examine it? Sole was not a doctor...

"Why 'ave you received zhis, madame/monsieur? What does zhis man want from you?"

Once Sole explained, Curie would be quite upset by the concept.

"But... you did not ask for zhis, did not want it, and yet, he sent it anyway. Why would you want to meet someone like zhat? It seems very rude to me." She's still confused about it, and may ask a few more questions. Has this happened to Sole before? Does it happen often? Does anyone actually like to see such things when they are unprompted like this? If not, then why do these men continue to do it?

The scientist just wants answers.

Danse:

The soldier would physically recoil at the sight of the photograph, eyebrows raised high as he took in the image, before jerking his head and eyes away from Sole and the picture altogether.

"That-- that is highly inappropriate and an overwhelmingly vile display." He would say once he recovered from his initial shock, still refusing to look back towards Sole, "I suggest you dispose of that filth immediately. Why anyone would reveal themselves in such an unceremonious fashion is beyond me. You would do well to forget such graphic imagery. I know that I will certainly try."

He wouldn't even entertain the idea that Sole would go through with meeting the man behind the picture, but in the off chance that they decided to tell him they wanted to, Danse would spend the remainder of the day convincing them otherwise. He would almost be tempted to go to the location himself in order to lecture the man for his crude and inexcusable behavior, and blatant disrespect to his companion, but in the end, he decides that the man is not worth his time.

Deacon:

Ginger eyebrows would raise slightly over the frames of the glasses for the briefest of moments before he recovered his cool demeanor.

"Ah shoot, did the postman just put it right back into the mail slot? Didn't mean for you to see that, my bad. Here, I'll just deliver it myself."

The sarcasm was evident in his voice as he strode forward and plucked the photo from Sole's hand, examining it for just a moment, and grimacing a bit at the sight.

"Man, Dr. Rich Cockwood does not photograph well. I swear, it's bigger in person." He'd wink at them before glancing down at the picture again, scrutinizing blue eyes pausing to peruse the words on the back as he folded the paper up to put into his pocket. He'd quickly change the subject, trying to keep Sole's mind off the whole thing as he devised a way to sneak out that night and get some intel on the asshole who decided it was a wise idea to put Sole in this position.

Hancock:

*Squints*

"Oh shit. Looks like you've got an admirer there, Sole. " In his sleepy state, it took Hancock a minute to figure out what he was even looking at. Upon realizing that it was, in fact, what he thought it had been, he takes the picture from Sole's grasp and flips it around to glance at the back.

"Look at that, you've even got a date tonight. Must be somewhere romantic, I can tell this guy's old school." He nodded, flipping the photo over to glance once again at the offensive imagery on the front. "Yeah, real traditional, I'd say. Hmm... Mind if I tag along? Could be fun." There was a certain sort of glint in the ghoul's eye that made Sole's spine tingle.

Perhaps neither of us should go... Sole thought, noticing how Hancock's other hand toyed absentmindedly with his combat knife as he furrowed his brows at the photo one last time, before shoving the paper into the pocket of his coat. There was a certain sort of intent behind his actions that made Sole re-think even showing him the image in the first place. Hancock had killed people over less; that, Sole knew for sure.

MacCready:

"Ahh! What the heck are you doing?! I don't need to see that!" He'd squeeze his eyes shut just as soon as he was able to make out the photo, shoving his hands in front of him as though they would be able to push the image out of his mind.

"It's too early for this, what the heck is that guy's problem?" MacCready shuddered as he pulled his hands slowly from where they covered his eyes, glancing quickly at Sole before lowering them down completely, a relieved expression on his face as realized the picture was no longer in his line of sight. Noting his dramatic reaction, Sole considered toying with the mercenary a bit. They asked him what was wrong with the image, stating that perhaps they would pay this man a visit tonight. It had been so long since they had been out on a date, might as well go for it, right?

MacCready's eyes would simultaneously furrow, and widen at their words as he stuttered, finally finding his voice after a moment of shocked, choked silence.

"What?!" He exclaimed, "You're not seriously thinking of going, are you? That guy seems like such an ass-- Well, he just-- I mean..." He took a breath, and Sole had to bite their lip to hold back their grin. "Look, not that it's really any of my business or anything, but... don't you think you could do better than that guy? Like... a lot better?"

Sole couldn't hold back their grin any longer, but MacCready wouldn't meet their gaze. Instead he looked down at the floor, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand, a nearly unnoticeable blush spreading over his cheeks.

"That guy just seems like a real jerk, and you? Well... Yeah, you deserve better than that, I think." He finished rather awkwardly, finally looking up to meet Sole's gaze before returning their coy smile.

Nick:

The synth would a have a brief moment of raised eyebrows as he took in the details of the photograph, and then the inevitable scowl of disappointment would spread across his face.

"You know, you'd think this guy would understand that no one in their right mind wants to see that particular... angle. You don't think that's his good side, do ya?" Sole would smile a bit at that, and as the synth turned to walk away from the offensive image, they told him about the writing on the back.

"Hey now, wait a minute. You're not thinking of paying this guy a visit, are ya? If so, that's a pretty poor decision on your part, I think."

Sole would shake their head, telling Nick not to worry as he fixed his inquiring yellow gaze on them. He nodded in response, seeming satisfied by their answer. In the next moment, a thought seemed to claim his attention.

"Hmm... I think I might just know the perp, actually. Ellie's got a few reports back at the office mentioning some similar events. Guess it's possibly one of the guards on night duty who goes around with these to see if he gets any takers."

Sole almost spoke up, but as they opened their mouth, Nick's words seemed to take their idea straight from their head. "On second thought..." He said, "You got any plans for this evening?"

Piper:

"Ahh! Blue! Why would you show me that!?" She'd physically cover her eyes with her hands, taking a few steps back and away from the picture for good measure.

"Look, I don't care what you do with it," she'd tell them, "just don't let me see it again!"

Sole would thankfully oblige, but before disposing of the image, they showed Piper the writing on the back. At the sight of the man's suggestion, Piper snatched the photo from Sole's hand, glaring at it furiously.

"Ohhhh no he doesn't. If he's sent crap like this to anybody else, I'm going to make sure no one falls for this."

And Piper kept her word, as the next morning's addition of Publik Occurrences contained a small piece written on exactly this subject, titled: To the Asshole who sent the Sad Little Picture to a Disgusted Citizen; No One Wants to See That! Sincerely, Everyone who has.

Preston:

"O-- oh! Um, that's-- okay. That's just wrong. Do you want me to get rid of it for you?"

Preston's face would wrinkle up in his clear distaste before bringing a a hand up to shield his eyes. When Sole had lowered the picture, he removed his hand, and looked them in the eye, refusing to pay the photo any more attention, but extending his hand out to take it from them so he could dispose of it properly.

"Are you... okay? I can't believe how rude some people are. Who would want to see that?" He'd flash a sympathetic smile at them, as he folded up the photo and prepared to throw it away. He didn't read the back himself, but if they told him about the words that were written there, he wouldn't even entertain the idea of Sole going, just shaking his head in disappointment at the man's poor and rude way of trying in vain to woo his General.

"Some people... The nerve. If you don't mind me saying, General, you deserve much better than that anyway."

X6-88:

His eyes would be locked to Sole's, but as they presented the photo to him, his gaze would fall to the image, and an ever so slight furrowing of his brows would take place above his silver eyes. A brief moment would pass, and X6's gaze would be back on his companion's face.

"Ma'am/ sir, why did you feel the need to show me this?" He's also quite confused, this was not a common occurrence in the Institute, and once Sole gave him an explanation, his expression would remain blank. For the most part, anyway. A small huff of laughter would escape him, prompting Sole to be the one giving him the questioning look now.

"If this filthy wastelander believes he can disrespect the future director of the Institute without facing consequences, he is sorely mistaken." He said, his gaze unbroken as he made Sole this promise, "Don't worry, I will take care of this filth at the specified meeting time and location. You will not hear from him again."

He doesn't necessarily intend to kill the man for his unseemly behavior; X6 is a courser after all, and he knew this man would be scared shitless if X6 were to so much as look at him the wrong way, but should the man make any... poor decisions in response to the courser's confrontation, well... certainly X6 can't be held responsible for the behavior, or the fate, of a mere stranger now, could he? Especially after his heinous actions.

could probably use some lighter courser ask storm prompts after all those whumpy angsty sounding ones, hmm. companions react to sole builds a raider cage but decides to see what happens if they bait it with fancylads, discovering later that it consistently traps coursers. each companion's personal part has them open it to find a different random courser inside, including named ones like x6, z2, & chase (who has some explaining to do). the jarring ooc surreality of the situation is amusing.

Ada: “You seem to be stuck.”

The courser inside glanced up at the sound of her voice, box of snack cakes in hand, and slowly nodded. “I didn’t realize it was trapped.”

“Usually this is baited with chems in order to trap raiders,” she said, beginning to fiddle with the release mechanism. “I am unsure why it is baited with cakes this time, but I’m sure it’s just a mistake. Don’t worry, you’ll be out shortly.”

“Thanks,” they said, slowly getting to their feet.

“Here, another box for your troubles,” she said, pulling one out of her bag. “Though I don’t believe I caught your name.”

They took it with a nod. “I’m X4-18. Nice to meet you.”

“I am Ada. My apologies for the inconvenience.”

“No problem,” X4 said. “Thanks for getting me out.”

In a flash of light, they were gone.

Cait: A rattle from inside the raider cage gave her pause on her way back home. She almost didn’t stop, the raider cage was sole’s problem after all, but what the hell. She was a little on edge today, and maybe beating the shit out of some unsuspecting soul would do the trick.

“Hi there!” A voice said from inside.

That gave her pause, but she went on fiddling with the lock. These things were usually baited with drugs after all. Wouldn’t be the first cheerful raider to come out.

The door swung open to reveal a blond courser, grinning ear to ear.

“I seem to have found myself in a bit of a predicament,” he said, sticking out a hand. “X7-22, nice to meet you. Don’t suppose you’re willing to help me out?”

A courser? Hell no. Slowly, she shook her head and started closing the door again.

“Hey! Wait a second, I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement.” He shifted to stay visible through the gap in the slowly closing door. “There’s gotta be something I can offer you. Money? Supplies? Anything? Come on, talk to me-”

With a click, the lock re-engaged. She dusted off her hands.

Coursers in the raider trap. Now that was a problem for sole.

Codsworth: “Oh, dear.”

He slowly hovered around the cage. The courser watched him with wary, predatory eyes. Codsworth made a noise akin to a sigh.

“They never learn.”

The courser opened their mouth to protest, but he waved his saw arm through the air, cutting them off. “Sole simply refuses to listen! I told them nothing good would come of this, and now look where we are. A courser is stuck in the raider cage. No good!”

He poked at the lock, still griping. “The raiders I could understand. No-good hooligans need to be disposed of. But this is madness. What is there to gain?”

The courser had shrunk back into the cage, presumably having realized that this lock was not built to be opened by a Mr. Handy, and they were going to be stuck listening to what he had to say for a while.

At least there was snacks.

Curie: “Pardon me.”

An unfamiliar voice made Curie jump, and she spun to see a man with slicked-back brown hair staring at her from the raider cage. She stiffened and turned back around.

“Ah, c’mon,” he said. “Don’t ignore me. I’m harmless.”

“I have no interest in speaking to such an unsavory character as yourself.”

“Not even a little sympathy for a fellow synth?”

She glanced back behind her, eyeing the man in the cage. He gave her a slick smile.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Z2-47″

She frowned a little, gears turning. So he was a synth, and a courser at that. And by all accounts, she was a synth that needed to be brought back to the Institute.

...Hadn’t sole said something about needing to kill a courser?

She took one last look at him, still looking every bit like the cat that ate the canary, and put on her best smile. “Oh, but of course I will help you. I simply must find the person with the key. If you will wait but a moment, I will bring them.”

Not waiting for a reply, she went off in search for sole.

Danse: The trap’s mechanism was very simple. The cage was built so that you had to step inside to get the bait, then the weight triggered the door to close and lock behind you. Sole had built it to trap raiders in, usually baiting it with chems, though he couldn’t say how many times they’d sent him to go get Hancock out of there. That ghoul never learned.

Today, though, it was him eyeing the cage from across the street. Yesterday, he’d seen sole baiting it with no less than three full boxes of Fancylads Snack Cakes they’d pulled out of an old vault. That meant they were in pristine condition, untouched by the taste of radiation. He’d been too shy to ask them for one of the boxes, and now seemed to be his chance. He just had to get them out of there.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he approached the trap, bracing one foot against the small step up into the cage and curling his right hand around the doorframe. If he leaned in, he should be able to...

Evidently, lose his balance and fall in.

With an unceremonious crash, he toppled to the floor, door slamming shut behind him. For a brief moment, he stared around at his surroundings, truly confused on how this had happened.

At least he hadn’t landed on the snack cakes. Might as well make the best of a bad situation, right?

Deacon: “Well this is awkward.”

Chase glared up at his mischievous grin as he asked, “So, how’s the weather in there?”

“Exactly the same as it is out there. Let me out.”

“C’mon, Chase. At least finish the snack cakes. That’s what you’re in there for, after all. Don’t tell me you ate them already.”

She glared at him in lieu of a response, and he fake gasped. “Chase, there was, like, three boxes in there!”

“Coursers burn calories very quickly.”

“Probably all that running and shooting and all.” He sighed and started to fiddle with the lock. “Well, no sense in leaving you in there. You’ve got work to do after all.”

“This stays between us. Understand?”

He laughed and said, “Sure. Between you, me, Glory, Dez, whoever they tell...”

“Oh, you’re impossible.”

Gage: The satisfaction he got from seeing a locked raider cage was like nothing else. Commonwealth raiders were stupid bastards, and if they were dumb enough to go into a very clear trap, well, they were dumb enough to die.

He chambered a round in his rifle as he swung open the door.

An Institute courser snarled and swiped at him with a very large, mean-looking knife. He narrowly dodged, shifting to dodge her second strike, and slammed the door in her face. An unholy screech of metal on metal echoed down the street, and he winced.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Coursers these days.”

The whole cage shuddered as the synth inside slammed herself against the door, shouting obscenities. He took a step back, debating whether or not he was willing to open it up again. On the one hand, there was a synth that needed killing. On the other, well, he still had one eye left, and he was keen to not lose it to a very pissed-off courser.

“Overboss!” he shouted up the street. “There’s some kind of feral thing in your cage.”

“What? Hold on, let me come look, just give me a second...”

A second was never just a second with the Overboss. He sighed and resigned himself to a very long wait.

Hancock: "Well, hey there.”

“Oh! Monsieur Hancock. What wonderful timing!”

Curie grinned up at him with a smile to light rooms, and he almost shielded his eyes against the brightness. Geez, this girl was bubbly.

“Whatcha doin’ in there, Curie? I don’t take you for the raider type, and last I checked chems weren’t your style. Mine, yes. Yours, no.”

“It is a funny story, really,” she chuckled. “I saw this box of snack cakes inside. They are in pristine condition, and one of my few vices, so for a moment I simply was blind to the fact that-”

“Snack cakes?” Sure enough, there was a mint condition box in Curie’s hand. “Holy shit, share.”

In a flash, he ripped open the door and launched himself at the second box of snack cakes. And damn, were they good. Untainted by the taste of radiation, they were perfectly balanced between sweet and sour, sponge still moist, coating still soft. Heaven in a crinkly plastic wrapper.

“Um, Hancock? Is it not rather cramped for the both of us?”

Oh, yeah. He’d landed right on top of poor, unsuspecting Curie. “My bad. I got excited.”

“Oh, no, that I do not so much mind. I simply wonder how we are going to get out now.”

Shit.

MacCready: “The way I see it, this stands to become a mutually beneficial exchange.”

Ol’ Z2 looked disgruntled, but asked, “How so do you mean?”

“I mean we could both gain something from this. I let you out of there, and you offer me something in exchange. Sounds fair, right?”

“Maybe.”

He rocked back on his heels. “So, what do you have to offer?”

Z2 frowned and dug around in a pocket. “I have some fusion cells.”

MacCready rolled his eyes. “No good. Sole’s got tons, and I don’t use a laser weapon.”

“I have a few bottlecaps.”

He squinted into the cage. “What, like, ten? Yeah, no. Not gonna cut it.”

“Well, then I’m afraid this won’t work out. Coursers travel light.”

MacCready tutted, tapping a finger against his chin. “I don’t know, that coat of yours looks pretty snazzy. Bet it’s well-armored, too, huh?”

Z2 looked almost offended. “Are you suggesting that I hand you my coat?”

“The way I see it, you don’t have much of a choice. You can hand me the coat and get out of there, or wait for a less sympathetic person to come along and shoot you like fish in a barrel. Your call.”

It took only a moment’s hesitation before Z2 agreed.

Nick: "...Danse?”

Former Paladin Danse’s head shot up, and for the first time probably ever, he actually looked happy to see him. “Nick?”

“What on Earth are you doing in the raider cage?” He cut him a sideways glare. “Don’t tell me you picked up a chem habit.”

Danse looked appropriately embarrassed, and held up a box of snack cakes. “No. These were the bait this time, and I rather foolishly thought I could retrieve them from the trap unharmed.”

“Isn’t the whole point of the trap that you can’t get them out without falling in?”

“Of course, and I knew that. I simply allowed my pride to get the better of me. I should have left them alone, but couldn’t resist the temptation.”

Nick just shook his head. “Well, at least you can admit it.”

“Would you mind letting me out? It has been a significant amount of time.”

“Yeah, fine.” He set about picking the lock. “I assume you’d rather keep this between us.”

“If that’s an option.”

“I guess. Wouldn’t want someone spreading it around if it was me.”

“I appreciate that.”

Old Longfellow: There was a long moment of silence. He stared into the raider cage. Reinhart stared back, still slowly chewing on a snack cake. The eye contact seemed to last forever as Longfellow tried to figure out what the actual hell Reinhart was doing.

“Did you need something?” Longfellow finally asked.

“Did you?”

“I’d like to know what you’re doin’ in there.”

“I’d like to get out of here.”

Longfellow folded his arms. “You answer me, and I’ll let you out.”

“I wanted the snack cakes,” Reinhart replied, sliding an open box across the floor. “Here. There’s still a few in there, if you want.”

“I’ll pass, you keep ‘em.”

Reinhart slowly slid the box back toward himself. There was silence again.

“So are you going to let me out, or...?”

“Right, right. Yeah. I guess I’ll go find sole, they probably have the key...”

Piper: Piper Wright looked and felt every bit like the cat that caught the canary.

“Well, well, well, look at what we have here.”

“Miss Wright-”

“For the first time, we have a courser who has embarrassed himself in media res. Incredible!”

“Piper, please-”

“X6, can I get a quote? What do you have to tell the people?”

She held out a fake microphone, which was actually a rolled up copy of the Publick. He just sighed and said, “Could you please let me out?”

“Not a chance!” she laughed. “At least, not until you tell me how you got stuck in there. I mean, c’mon X6, a raider cage? You’ve gotta be smarter than that.”

He visibly deflated. “Unfortunately, Fancylads Snack Cakes are a common vice among generation three synths.”

Piper practically crowed with delight. “Snack cakes! You’re in there for snack cakes!”

“Yes, if you could just-”

“Sole!” she shouted up the street. “You gotta come see this!”

X6 resigned himself to the fact that he’d never live this down.

Preston: The person in the raider cage was not a raider.

She glared at him through the bars. He could only stare back in shock.

“You’re a courser,” he finally managed.

“No shit.”

“How... how did you get in there?”

She hesitated just a moment before replying, “Snack cakes.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “Dammit, sole. Everyone told you this was a bad idea, but you did it anyway?” To the courser, he said, “I’m sorry about this. We’ll get you out of there, promise.”

“Thanks,” the courser replied, then added, “I’m X9-96.”

“Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. Nice to meet you X9. I’m no good with locks, so I’ll need to go get the key. Will you be okay in there until I get back?”

She shrugged. “So long as no more rifle-toting raiders come by, yeah. No promises I won’t kill him if he comes back though.”

So Gage had been by. Just great. Under his breath, Preston muttered, “Be my guest.”

The Sweetest Apparition - Part 3

Pairing: Peggy Carter x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and historian who specializes in the life and legacy of Captain Carter. After Nick Fury uses the Tesseract to bring Peggy back, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts the reader to help her navigate life in the XXI century.

Warnings and notes: Food, mentions of Steggy, mentions of Stucky, very small mentions of war. Other characters are also mentioned. This got way longer than the first two parts, but there’s also way more Peggy here. This series takes place after the last scene of What If… episode one, including spoilers to that episode. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Word count: 2,304

Series Masterlist

It should be a short walk to your apartment, but you made a small stop each time Captain Carter was curious about something. You also got some take out on the way, making sure to pick at least four different options from separate places and a couple of desserts too, since you didn’t know her taste yet. It was a while before you made it to your street.

During the entire time, your chatting was limited to safe topics - how loud and bright the city was, how many screens there were, the amount of coffee options that existed now. You watched Carter fall in love with her caramel coffee and made a mental note to buy her more sweets.

Soon, the Captain would also need to go shopping. Fury had gotten her the formal white blouse and the black pants she wore now, an outfit much more discreet than the uniform she was wearing when she fell, but that was her entire wardrobe at the moment. That was another mission you should handle, but it could wait until after lunch.

When you finally got home, you placed the food over a kitchen counter and gave Carter a quick tour of the apartment. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would be enough for both of you until she was more familiar with this century. The tour ended where it started: in your tiny kitchen. You pulled a stool for the Captain and presented her with the options for lunch.

“I suppose you’ve never tried some of those, so I got a few different meals. Burritos, sweet and sour chicken, calzones and Pad Thai. For dessert, there’s lemon tart and triple chocolate cake. I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Peggy took a seat and examined her options. You wondered if that would be, technically her first meal since the 40’s.

“They are all tempting, but I might start with this one.” Her eyes were fixated on a burrito as if it was the Holy Grail. Yeah, that was surely the first time she ate in seventy years. She dove in, so focused on her meal that you didn’t dare to interrupt. Meanwhile, you took the other stool and picked a calzone, eating it while you watched Carter.

You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that she was really here, and it was surprising that you hadn’t completely freaked out so far, but the prospect of the rest of the day started to worry you. The Captain would certainly have a lot of questions and, if there were inquiries that Fury left for you to answer, they probably pertained more to her personal life than to great historical events.

If the registers about her were right, it wouldn’t be long before the real conversation started. Peggy Carter was too smart to have such a debate in the middle of the street, but she wasn’t known for stalling. As soon as she finished her meal, in the privacy of your (now shared) kitchen, you would have to provide about seven decades of answers.

Before you could try to prepare yourself, she was done with her second burrito. You almost suggested dessert, but the look she gave you left no room for pauses. Carter turned on her stool to face you directly, her posture becoming straighter and her eyes never leaving yours. She was the perfect image of Captain Carter, the hero, the legend who defeated all odds. Still, when she spoke, there was softness in her voice.

“The meal was lovely and so is the apartment. I can’t thank you enough for you kindness, Agent L/N, but I must ask a few things more of you. If you have studied about my life, you must know what happened to Steve Rogers after I was gone.”

You should be ready for that. Of course her first personal concern would be about Rogers. His story with Carter went down in history as a tragic tale of love, bravery and loss. To his last days, Rogers had made it his mission to honor her legacy, but that wasn’t all that he did. How do you tell a person that the love of her life went on to live a decades long, fulfilling relationship with someone else, even though, from her perspective, they were together the day before?

“Please, call me Y/N. And you can ask anything, Captain. I will tell you everything I can.” You took a deep breath, going through the words in your head in search of the best way to let her know. It was best to keep nothing out. Carter deserved that. “Steve Rogers continued to serve as the Hydra Stomper until the war had ended and all known Hydra operations had been eliminated. After that, he stepped out of the suit so that Howard Stark could continue his research with the Tesseract. I believe neither of them ever gave up on bringing you back, but, in many ways, they also moved on to build new lives.”

You made a small pause, in case she wanted to say something, but Carter only gave you a nod, encouraging you to continue. It was impossible to look away from her eyes, or to keep anything hidden when she stared at you with such intensity. Even in silence, sitting still, she emanated a power that kept you talking.

“A few years after the war, Rogers and Stark started an intelligence agency to keep the world safe from threats we could barely understand. They named it S.H.I.E.L.D., because of you. That is the agency I work for, directed by Nick Fury.” There was something poetic in the way that same agency ended up being the reason Peggy Carter was back, but it wasn’t your place to point that out. “Rogers never stopped fighting, even without the suit. He was a legendary agent, working along with James Barnes until they retired. They were also together for the rest of their lives.”

That was the piece of information you feared would break Carter’s heart, but she had a bright smile after hearing that.

“That suits them. All of them.” The joy in her voice sounded so sincere, and you couldn’t help but ask.

“Were you and Rogers… Together? It is said so in the official files, but…” In your studies, you sometimes wondered if their relationship was just a myth, maybe a publicity stunt to humanize the fallen super soldier. It was your job to question the data, but you had never paid that possibility much attention until now.

Instead of being offended by your invasion of her privacy, Carter laughed so lightly and freely that you felt your cheeks getting warm.

“Oh, darling, Steve Rogers had a heart too big to have only one soul mate. He was the love of my life, yes, and I was the love of his, but not the only one. A love so beautiful and dedicated is supposed to be shared. Of course I’m sad I didn’t get to share the rest of his life with him, but I’m relieved to know that he and Bucky had each other. And that’s not to say I’m a being of such virtue that I’m above jealousy. I felt jealous of Steve alright, many times, but I could never be jealous of him with Buck. They fit well together and they were good for each other. They were real, just as Steve and I were. Steve deserved to be loved through a lifetime. I’m grateful that he was.”

Carter’s eyes shined with tears, but she didn’t allow any to fall. Maybe she would let herself grief for the lost possibilities later, but for now she was handling such an emotional journey with more elegance than you thought possible. It didn’t seem to be an act at all. On the contrary, what touched you the most was the honesty in her words. That selflessness of being genuinely happy to hear of how her soul mate lived on without her, in love with someone else, told you more about Peggy Carter than any history book ever had. And that’s how she reacted right after being thrown into the next century, coming directly from a war and landing in a world she didn’t recognize.

“I don’t think history ever made you justice, Captain. The general public thinks of you as a hero, but they’re so far from knowing the person behind the suit... You know, it’s very nice to meet you.” You couldn’t help but sharing a bit of what was on your mind. To that moment, your hero was turning out to be even better than your daydreams, and it was only fair to let her know so.

At that, she gave you a big smile and your heart skipped a beat. You would have a hard time sharing an apartment with this woman.

“You are far too kind to me. To be honest, they never showed much interest on me, suit or not, until I went against official orders and started throwing tanks around and fighting the battles that needed to be fought. I am more concerned about what I am able to achieve, regardless of how they will see me. And there’s no need to call me Captain, Y/N. Heavens, we live and work together now and you’re my guide to modern life. Peggy is fine. And it’s nice to meet you too.” She took the initiative to get a slice of chocolate cake, already making herself at home. You had the feeling that her adaptation to this world wouldn’t be too difficult, all things considered. Peggy Carter would take whatever she was given and make more of it than anyone imagined possible.

“As you wish, Peggy. Speaking of that, there’s a lot I think you’ll like to see about life now. What else are you curious about?” You took your own slice of cake, trying to feel at ease in this conversation. You couldn’t be on high alert whenever Carter was around if she was going to be around all the time, but that was easier said than done. Your responsibilities here were enormous and, to be frank, you were determined to be your best self and impress her, even if just a bit. Maybe telling her about the wonders of nowadays technology would do the trick.

“I am curious about everything. I can’t wait to know all about the development of science, or what I missed in seven decades of sociopolitical turmoil, but there’s one more person I’d love to hear about before we get to that. You mentioned Howard moving on with his life, didn’t you? What exactly was that little menace up to while I was gone?”

Now, that was a rich topic of conversation.

“Well, Stark continued his research with the Tesseract and with many other projects, sometimes along with the US government, and he built a billionaire empire. Weapons, all sorts of technology, wild parties. The man had everything. He has a son, Tony, who inherited the tech, the money and the brains, but with a stronger inclination to heroism. You see, Tony Stark built himself a supersuit, partially inspired by his father’s Hydra Stomper, but with a larger variety of uses. It’s said that Steve Rogers was a sort of mentor to him, but I couldn’t get Stark to talk a lot about it when I interviewed him.”

You couldn’t tell which part made Peggy more excited. She nodded along as you listed Howard Stark’s achievements, as if it was all expected, and her eyes got wider when you told her about his son. When you mentioned Rogers, she almost jumped in her seat. She was already invested, but dropping that name sealed the deal.

“Fury gave me this.” She took two business cards out of her pocket. “It has his telephone number and Barton’s too. Could I use your telephone to call him? I would like to meet this Tony Stark, and I bet Fury would be able to reach him.” 

Giving Director Fury a call from your cellphone felt strange, but how could you deny Peggy that? If the Director gave her the number, he wanted her to be able to reach him, right? 

Instead of dialing yourself, you showed Carter how to use the phone. She looked like a kid on Christmas whenever she was given access to new technology. You would make sure she got a cellphone of her own soon so you could show her everything the device could do. 

She called Fury and you waited as they talked for less than two minutes. Peggy handed you the phone when she was done, with a smile that said she got what she wanted.

“So, what did the Director say?” You asked, anxious to know the outcome of the call.

“We’re meeting Tony Stark tomorrow at 2pm in his tower. Was it him who named it Stark tower or is that Howard’s doing?” She narrowed her eyes a bit, still smiling.

“The tower was built by Tony, so I think we can’t blame Howard for that one.” You joked. “Are you meeting Fury at S.H.I.E.L.D. before you two go to Stark’s?”

“Oh, Fury is not going. He booked the meeting for you and me, if you would like to accompany me.” Peggy sounded hesitant, as if she had just considered that you might not want to join her on that plan. 

"You’re asking me if I wish to be there when Captain Carter meets Tony Stark? Please, if I didn’t get the chance to be a part of that exchange, I would beg you for a detailed retelling as soon as you got home.” 

Your reply made Peggy laugh once more, and you were getting used to that sound very quickly.

I absolutely loved your recent fic with domestic sleepy baby!Jack and Dean, you write them so well! Loved that it was from Cas’ perspective, so so sweet! These bits especially:

Cas carefully pushes open the back door and there they are: Dean, spread out on the porch swing, Jack in his lap, both fast asleep. 😍

*

“I wanna play Barbies,” Jack says. “With you, Daddy.”

“Only if I get to be Veterinarian Barbie,” Dean replies, and he lets Jack pull him back into the house. 

Can I request sick baby!Jack and upset Dean feeling all helpless? But cuddles make everything better (with Cas too!) ps sorry if you don’t actually take fic requests, ignore the request and enjoy the love!

okay okay okay I am Big Emotional about this ask I'm so glad you liked my recent fic! soft parenting deancas my beloved. and I love this prompt, thanks for sharing it!

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

Dean thought he had the TV turned down low enough, but clearly not, because he hears a pitter patter of feet behind the couch. About three seconds later, Jack emerges, dragging his blanket along beside him.

"Did I wake you up?" Dean asks, muting the TV. He's probably seen all the movies on Time Warner Classics, anyways.

Jack shakes his head.

"Still can't sleep?"

Jack nods.

"Okay. C'mere, kiddo." Dean helps Jack climb onto the couch and then pulls the toddler into his lap.

Jack's been sick for the past few days--Dean doesn't think it's the flu, but if not, it's one hell of a cold. He's been doing everything he can think of, from making Jack take cough medicine (Jack hated it and Dean had to bribe him with a popsicle, which was maybe not the best parenting move, but he was running low on options) to tea with honey in it (Cas' idea) to elevating Jack's tiny head with a plethora of pillows. But the scratchy throat and runny nose and fever have persisted, and Dean's realized just how germy little kids can be.

(Of course, this is his little kid, so he doesn't mind as much.)

Jack snuggles up into his lap, and Dean tries to wrap his blanket around him. Despite the fever, Jack's been freezing; he's wearing his favorite striped footie pajamas despite the fact that it's the middle of the summer.

"Daddy?"

"Uh-huh?"

"What're you watching?" Jack asks in his four-year-old lisp.

"Just some old movie." Dean thinks it's The Thin Man, but to be honest, he hasn't been paying much attention, too concerned with searching ways to help with colds on his phone and wondering when Cas'll be back.

"Can I watch too?"

"Sure." Dean's pretty sure this movie is kid-friendly.

Well, there might be a murder, now that he thinks about it.

Oh well.

He finds the remote and switches the sound back on. Jack settles in to watch the movie, and Dean leans back into the couch cushions, trying to relax with forty pounds of sick toddler in his lap. He runs a hand through Jack's sweaty blonde hair while he looks at his phone.

Cas had gone to some craft fair today in the next town over with their friend Charlie, and he was supposed to be back fifteen minutes ago. Dean's trying not to worry--and with Charlie involved, they've probably gotten into some kind of hijinks and are just running late--but Jack being sick has him on edge.

Eventually, Jack's breathing evens out and he fully sags into Dean's lap, asleep. Dean's nearly there himself, with the dim lights in the living room and the glow of the TV and only the sounds of William Powell as retired detective Nick Charles on screen and Jack's breathing to keep him company.

Dean sits up with a jolt, though, when he hears keys in the front door, and then quiet footsteps. There's the rustling of a plastic bag--presumably whatever Cas got at the craft fair (the last time he and Charlie went to one, Cas got a giant crocheted cow for Jack), and then the feeling of a kiss on the top of his head. Dean leans his head up to see his husband standing over him.

"How is he?" Cas whispers.

"Just fell asleep."

"That's good." Cas comes around the couch and sits down next to Dean and Jack. "What movie are you watching?"

"The Thin Man. Old detective movie from the 30s." Dean presses a hand to Jack's forehead--still warm. "Jack seemed to like it."

"Let's watch the rest." Cas leans his head on Dean's shoulder and then finds Dean's other hand (the one not making sure Jack isn't going to spontaneously combust or something) and holds it in his own, and that's that.

(In the middle of the night, Dean wakes up, still on the couch, to the sound of Cas's even breathing and Jack's snuffed up sniffles, the TV now playing informercials. He smiles to himself before falling right back asleep.

Jack's fever breaks in the morning.)

By My Side (Part 9)

Summary: The reader and Jensen have a relaxing afternoon where they discuss their future with one another...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Please enjoy the final part! I had a lot of fun with this series!

_________

One Month Later

“Hey Mikey,” you called from the hammock you were sharing with Jensen in the backyard. He popped his head up from one of the patio loungers, his head deep in a legal brief. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”

“She’s coming over later for the party,” he said, going back to work.

“Did you clear that with head of security?” asked Jensen.

“Head of security can suck my dick,” said Michael as he flipped a page.

“Suck your own. I set you up on this date you know,” you said.

“Ah, this is what I missed,” said your dad as he sat at the table playing a game of chess against Chuck.

“If you can imagine they were worse as teenagers,” said Chuck, moving a piece. “You were planning to have more, weren’t you?”

“We were discussing it. Y/N kept asking for siblings,��� he said. “Glad she found some.”

“They never got on very well until recently,” said Chuck.

“Dysfunctional family is kind of our thing,” said Michael, reviewing another paper. Your mom took a sip of her drink, giving Brian a smile. You saw him go to hold her hand under the table but he hesitated, your mom taking his anyways. She rested her feet over Chuck’s lap and you shook your head. 

“They’re so loud,” you mumbled to Jensen. You curled into his chest and he gave your waist a light squeeze.

“They’re alright,” he murmured against your neck. “Wait until you meet my family.”

“God I hope they aren’t crazy like mine,” you said.

“No one’s quite at that level,” he chuckled. “They’re not crazy. Just...odd.”

“Your family or mine?”

“Probably both,” he said. “Want to go for a walk before the party?”

“Sure,” you said. You both rolled out of the hammock and said you’d be back soon, Jensen taking your hand as you walked to the front of the house. A car pulled up at the new gate and you let it in, smiling as you saw Nick and his friend climb out of the car.

“How was the flight?” you asked as he stretched out.

“Good. This is Spencer. Spence, Y/N and her boyfriend bodyguard, Jensen,” said Nick. 

“Nice meeting you guys,” he said. “Nick says you’re why Y/N’s dad is back in the picture?”

“Something like that,” said Jensen. “We’re gonna take a quick walk but feel free to show Spencer around the house or take a dip in the pool.”

“We’ll start cooking in about an hour but snack on whatever you like,” you said. You and Jensen gave them a quick wave before you were walking down the street, Doug whistling from his driveway.

“You two kids staying out of trouble?” he asked.

“Only the bad kind,” said Jensen. “See you and the girls at the party in a bit.”

You hummed as you walked, Jensen squeezing your hand when a car went past.

“Your bodyguard rules are a tad conflicting you know,” you said, smiling at him. “Put you between me and a vehicle but if we’re walking on a city street, put myself closer to the street and you closer to alleyways.”

“Not confusing at all. You stay away from the danger,” he said. “I let you slide on some stuff.”

“I have sex with you, Ackles.”

“I know and I wanna keep doing that so I let you slide,” he teased. He bopped your nose and you laughed, slowing down a bit as you hit the quiet stretch of road with lots of trees around. “I was talking to Chuck earlier. He no longer hates me.”

“See? I told you he’d come around.”

“Strong disdain was now in play,” said Jensen. “I still can’t believe I fucked up like that.”

“Well first off, Chuck doesn’t have the high and mighty card to play. His own sons thought for a split second he was capable. Even mom.”

“How’d the family therapy session go this week?” he asked.

“Okay. The boys all cried. Mom and I aren’t gonna go unless they ask us to anymore. Everyone seems okay,” you said.

“Your dad and Chuck are getting along pretty good now,” he said. 

“I don’t know what those three are going to do, honestly. She loves them both still.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” said Jensen.

“I disagree with that sentiment. Sometimes you have to choose if love is more important than other things, things that might be just as vital as love. But I don’t agree that loving someone alone isn’t enough,” you said.

“Quite a hopeless romantic you are,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. “Anyone in particular you’re loving these days?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. Your face felt hot, Jensen slowing his walk to almost a crawl. 

“I’m not afraid of you running off on me,” he said. “Not after everything.”

“Good cause you’re important to me,” you said. 

“That what we’re calling it?” he said, your arm sliding around his back, hand settling on his waist. 

“Shut up,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. You snuggled him for a brief moment before you started walking again, Jensen’s hand grazing your cheek. 

“You’re important to me too,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” you said. You smiled and you both moved your arms so you could go back to holding hands, Jensen taking his baseball cap off his head and putting it on backwards on your own.

“Can I tell you about what happened to me sometime?” he asked. You turned your head towards him, Jensen shrugging. “You know...the not so great stuff with Hall and all that.”

“Always. I’d never tell a soul,” you said.

“It’s probably not as horrible as whatever you’ve dreamed up in your head,” he said. “But I don’t want you to worry about it anymore. I’m not so scared of you changing your mind about me if you hear it now.”

“I just want to be able to help you the way you’ve helped me,” you said. “That’s what we do.”

“True. I’m still your bodyguard though,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but that’s like an assumed role with you being my boyfriend anyways. I feel like you’ll always be my bodyguard,” you said.

“Always?” he asked. “Always doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “A man can dream though.”

“When we met, what was your gut reaction?” 

“Within half an hour of meeting you, I wanted to quit. I knew...I knew there was this something that I don’t know what it was, it just really wanted to know you and make sure you stayed safe. I didn’t think I could do both effectively.”

“So we were both a bit mean to hide things.”

“Well, you are kinda a sassy client. You don’t always listen to me like the time you nearly got a concussion,” he said, bumping your shoulder with a laugh.

“Excuse me but I escaped, not you, and I saved your perky little ass,” you said.

“Oh so you did notice it’s perky,” he said. You rolled your eyes but giggled, Jensen kissing your temple again. “Maybe you can be my bodyguard too.”

“That sounds fun,” you said. “I’m not wearing a suit though.”

“You could just wear what I do.”

“One of your shirts?”

“Yeah, just that’s good,” he said, chuckling as you lightly smacked his chest. “To be honest, I hate the suits. I prefer the laid back look.”

“I prefer anything where I get to see more skin,” you said. “But that does bring up a point I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yes?”

“If I wanted you to stay on as a bodyguard...for like work and events moreso cause at home I think boyfriend Jensen could handle that job, would you still work for me?” you asked.

“I’d do it for free,” he said. You cocked your head and he shrugged. “I’m serious.”

“Well I’m still gonna pay you. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted something more...exciting,” you said.

“I’m good with quiet. You still have your fair share of crazies out there. Like the stalker guy,” he said, your eyes wide. “I’m joking.”

“Why do I feel like you’re not?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re safe.”

“Never thought I wasn’t,” you said. “Jensen.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to get away this weekend? Somewhere quiet before I start filming my movie next month?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” he said. “After our epic party tonight of course.”

“It’s not gonna be epic,” you said. “It’s like fifty people max.”

“No, it’ll be epic,” he said. “Cause I got you a present you’re gonna love.”

“Tease. What is it?”

“If you must know,” he said as he pulled out his phone. He handed it to you and tapped the screen, scrolling for a minute before he got where he wanted.

“Plane tickets? For tomorrow to the Maldives?” you asked. “How...Jensen you can’t afford this. You have to let me pay for-”

“Oh, honey. I haven’t paid my own rent, utilities, food in a very long time. That plus these hot shot hollywood types and their fancy contracts? I’m better off than you think I am,” he said. “You like, legit saved my life and made me as happy as I’ve ever been and I just want to take my girl on vacation to a place she’s always wanted to go.”

“Fine but only cause I really want to go with you,” you said. 

“I knew I’d win you over,” he said.

“You did that a while ago,” you said, a guy walking past on the other side of the street. Jensen took his phone back and glanced over his shoulder once he was gone. “A pap again?”

“Yup,” he said, sending a text off to Jake. “Oh wait. I forgot to do my favorite part.”

He turned around with you and let out a loud whistle, the guy spinning around.

“You do know last guy we caught in the neighborhood we got arrested, right?” called out Jensen. The man paused but kept staring. “I see one photo or your ass around again, we’re gonna have problems.”

“He’s really a sweetheart!” you said. “Probably want to get out of here before we come back around though. He’s a tad protective.”

The man walked a bit faster, Jensen chuckling as you both watched him slip in a car and head for the entrance out of the neighborhood.

“Ah, I love doing that,” he said. “I am a sweetheart, aren’t I.”

“Yes, yes you are,” you said. He squeezed your hand and you looked around, not spotting anything out of the ordinary. “What?”

“That one’s just for me,” he said. He kissed your lips, pulling back with a big smile. You kissed his cheek, breaking off and kissing his lips, cupping his face. 

“That one’s for me,” you said.

“Better do it again, just in case,” he said.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Bodyguard.”

_______

If the Spit Hits the Fan (Glee) Pt XVIII

This is the last part of this. Of a story that I was pretty certain I wouldn’t finish and just posted the bit I had in my scraps and snippets tag for a lark. You read that, and you liked it, and your response made me want to try and finish it. And so here we are, ~29k finished fic. 

Thank you for the support.

Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, pt VI, pt VII, pt VIII, pt IX, pt X, pt XI, pt XII, pt XIII, pt XIV, pt XV, pt XVI and pt XVII.

New York is big and loud and filthy and expensive.

Kurt's first apartment had been an absolute rathole. He'd shared it with four others, and his “room” had been a repurposed coatroom. There had been just enough place for a bed and a tiny table instead of a desk. He'd only brought the most necessary in way of clothing, and with the exception of two shirts hanging from a nail in the wall he'd been forced to keep everything in a suitcase under the bed.

He'd moved out after a month, tired of never being able to keep food in the kitchen, weary of the nicks surrounding the lock on his door – he'd replaced the old one day 1, but even the best of locks only went so far – and fed up with having to carry all his valuables with him at all times.

Luckily the Warbler network had activated and Trent's older brother had offered up his guest room (and if that wasn't a sign of wealth, a student in New York with a guest room, then Kurt didn't know what was) for the rest of the year provided Kurt find someplace else to spend the night on those occasions it was needed. During the fall it'd mostly been solved by Sebastian coming to visit and the two sharing a cheap hotel room, and during the fall by Kurt spending the night at Sebastian's apartment. It had been tempting to move in with Sebastian then, but Kurt had resisted and they both agreed they'd become stronger for it.

Living together had been tough, especially since Sebastian had a lot more money available than Kurt. They'd managed to find a balance though and looking back Kurt feels proud of the work they'd put in to make it work. Three years (and counting) together and these days Kurt is willing to proclaim that Sebastian is as much of a perfect boyfriend as it's possible to be.

Yes, New York is still loud and filthy and big, but it's also full of light and laughter and love. Kurt's learned to find his way around both city and school, and he's on track for graduation with excellent prospects. Life is good.

Of course, that kind of means he's overdue for a cold shower and unfortunately it comes as cold and icy as is possible.

“Blaine. I guess I should have known you'd turn up.”

Like a bad penny, Kurt thinks. His ex-boyfriend just smiles wider at the words, clearly not picking up on the undertones.

“Yes! I'll always come back to you, Kurt. We're meant to be – you're my soulmate.”

Kurt shudders. All these years, and he still haven't gotten over his negative reaction to those words.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure you and I have different interpretations of what those things mean. Personally I can't see how someone who walked out of my life without a word years ago could be considered my 'soulmate', but that's me.”

“That's not fair! I never wanted to leave you, but my parents made me.”

Blaine does this thing with his face that resembles what Kurt remembers of Blaine's “I've apologized, sort of, and you should forgive me now” expression and Kurt thinks that if Blaine could see himself he'd never ever do it again. It's not pretty. It kind of looks like he's about to shit his pants, frankly.

“Right. Your parents. And why, exactly, were they so determined to get you out of Lima without saying goodbye?”

Blaine flinches, and Kurt can see the realization hit him. Strange. It's as if he never even thought about the possibility that Kurt would know about the lies Blaine had told. Emotions run across Blaine's eyes and face, one after the other, and Kurt just waits without even trying to figure out what's going through his ex's mind. He's beyond caring.

“Kurt, I... I, I have a confession to make. When I got home that last night, my parents, they were waiting up for me. They made assumptions, and I, I let them.”

Blaine's face twists, and a couple of tears start falling. Kurt would be touched, really he would, except he happens to know that Blaine can cry on command.

“I know I shouldn't have, I know it was wrong, I was just so afraid! I thought they'd throw me out, and so I kept quiet and did what they wanted. I'm so sorry I did that to you.

“I love you, Kurt!”

The thing is, he can remember when those words from Blaine's lips would make him melt. That's no longer true. Now he listens to them like he would a performance, and he finds them lacking. He should have gone for soft instead of intense, a hint of tears maybe, not volume and anger.

This isn't school though, even though it very much is a performance, nor is it worth critiquing. It's not worth anything, really. Kurt sighs a little, just wanting all of it to be over and Blaine to be gone.

“Here's the thing. I understand, I guess. In your shoes I would have been worried to tell my dad the truth too. I think just about every teenager out there would be at least a little afraid to tell their parents they got drunk and stupid.

“But I also think that just about every teenager out there knows that there's some kind of middle-ground between 'I got drunk and tried to rape my boyfriend' and 'my boyfriend drugged me and tried to rape me'. Except apparently you didn't. You just went with what would get you of the hook the fastest and easiest.”

“Hey! That's not fair!”

“Oh, it isn't? You doing what you did is okay, but me calling it what it was is unfair? Now, why am I not the least bit surprised that that's how you feel?

“You know, at first I didn't understand how you could do it. How you could say you loved me and then not just leave me, but let your parents believe that I would do something like that to you. Well, that you could let anyone think I'd do that to anyone.

“But as I said, I understand why you did it.”

A triumphant look flash up in Blaine's eyes. Oh, he's doing a pretty good job at hiding it – much better than he would have been able to as a teenager – but Kurt knows him, and he's looking for it.

“You threw me under the bus because you knew it'd be an easy out. You could have told your parents something else, anything else, but you chose the worst possible lie – one you had to have known would get me in trouble. You did it because it was easy, and it would get you of the hook – maybe even get you some sympathy instead of the punishment you deserved – and you did it because that was all you cared about. You.

“I always knew you were a bit self-involved, but I told myself it was just part of you being a performer. A healthy ego's pretty much a must, and I used to think that was it. Except it turned out you were so focused on you, and your needs and wants, that nothing else mattered. Certainly not me.

“It took me a while to accept, but I know now that regardless of what you said you didn't love me. Not really. You might have thought you did, but Blaine? Love means that the other person's just as important to you as you yourself are. And I never was that to you.”

He ignores Blaine's protests and just continues, projecting his voice to be heard over the barely restrained excuses and lies.

“The truth is that your lack of empathy and care for other people borders on Narcissistic Personality Disorder, and quite frankly I am better off for not having you remain in my life. Just don't expect me to thank you for it though.

“No one else will either. Do you realize how many people you worried with your little disappearing act? There was quite a few at Dalton who were convinced that your parents had shipped you off to conversion camp. They were counting down until your 18th birthday and from what I heard there was even the beginning of a fund to pay your way at Dalton if you escaped and were disowned.”

There's a triumphant gleam in Blaine's eyes. Clearly he's pleased about his friends being so worried about him and so ready to help him out. Kurt just wants to stomp that light out. Violently.

“Then when you didn't resurface after your birthday a few started worrying that your parents had you in a mental hospital, and there was talk of trying to stage some kind of rescue. That only lasted so long, of course.

“You see, somehow it's hard to convince anyone that their friend is practically jailed and in need of a rescue when they're seen out and about clubbing in L.A.. After all, these days everyone carries a phone, so the idea that you were unable to contact someone – anyone – and ask for help went up in flames pretty quick after that.”

Thad had been so angry that he'd made sure every single Dalton student that had ever know Blaine found out, and even the boy's most die-hard supporters had given up then and there.

They'd all understood not wanting to getting into a conflict with your family, especially when said family usually paid for college and any possible trust funds tended to be under the family's control for a while longer. What they hadn't understood was Blaine's total lack of communication. Email telling them that Blaine was okay but under orders not to contact anyone from Ohio would have gone a long way to ease worries, and was, they felt, the very least he owed them.

“Funny thing about you showing up here now? I can't help but remember that you turned 21 a couple of weeks ago. You didn't happen to get access to a trust fund then did you? Not that I actually care, but there are some old bets to settle.”

There wasn't, not really, but enough Warbler had warned Kurt about this very scenario with an added “I bet he shows up afterwards, thinking you'll take him back” for it to not quite be a lie.

Blaine splutters before launching into a long row of “explanations”, one more shitty than the other. It's obvious that he didn't expect Kurt to be angry with him, but instead to be welcomed with open arms. It's even sounding as if Blaine expected Kurt to take him back and just let him slide back into his life as if nothing had happened. Kurt isn't quite sure if Blaine intended for him to move in with Kurt and start a new life in New York, or if the idea was for Kurt to give up everything and follow Blaine back to L.A., but both options are equally ridiculous.

“Stop. Just, stop. I told you, I don't care. If you want to get in touch with any of your old friends from Dalton and McKinley and explain all of it to them, do so. But you don't need to explain anything to me. I don't want to hear it. Your window for explaining yourself to me closed years ago. It closed after you let your parents walk into a police station ready to have me charged with rape.

“Nothing you can say will ever make that okay. Nothing you say can make me forgive you.”

Kurt stops himself and takes a deep breath. There's so much he could say, so many accusations that could be made, so much hatred to be poured out.

Blaine's actions had gotten Kurt into trouble, and could have landed him in jails. They'd been what had stopped Burt Hummel from running from reelection after being asked – while nothing had come from the Andersons' accusations there had still been enough people who had known about it for it to leak and ruin a political career. After all, who cared if it was true when it made for a good weapon? And “local congressman buries son's rape charge” made for a great weapon.

Kurt had been willing to risk it, but his dad hadn't wanted to. Had it leaked the only way to prove Kurt's innocence would have been to make the video of Blaine trying to assault Kurt public. No good parent does that to their kid had been Burt's position, and Kurt had been grateful.

That didn't mean he wasn't aware of exactly how much that had cost not just his dad but the whole state. The man who'd replaced his dad had been the kind of bigot that wasn't good for anyone, not even his followers.

Kurt still blames Blaine for that, and even if he'd been insane enough to consider forgiving everything else he's never forgiving that. The chance of making Blaine understand any of that is minuscule though. The chance of him caring is even less.

There is, simply put, no point in spending even another second on trying to get through to him.

“You're not welcome here. Please leave. Goodbye Blaine.”

Once the door is closed and locked behind Blaine Kurt finally relaxes. He's closing the door on Blaine in more than one way, finally able to truly do that – because regardless of what he's hoped he's always known that one day his former boyfriend would pop up again.

“If he comes back you're filing for a restraining order.”

“He won't come back, Sebastian.”

“You don't know that. He did today, didn't he?”

It's obvious that Sebastian is coming from a place of care and worry, and Kurt feels himself soften. Blaine hasn't just been the monster under Kurt's bed during all of these years.

“Yes, he did, and no, I guess I can't really know. But honey, I really don't think he will. Blaine was reminded today that actions have consequences, and he found out I have the means to ensure said consequences. Coming after me and trying to change my mind is more work than he's ever shown himself willing to put in.

“After all, he's not the kind to stick around when the spit hits the fan.”

Luckily Sebastian is.

~ The end ~