#i think i have ideas that could span around ten chapters

[fanboy-sloth]

Chapter 6 lads here we go!

Damn right this is the first update in five months, hold your butts because this chapter is chonky!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 10

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, show level violence

Word Count: 7,447

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Sorry again that this chapter got postponed a day. But here is the conclusion of the series. (Except for the epilogue coming next Saturday - or maybe a little earlier. 😉) I've absolutely loved writing this series. Loved living in the Endverse for a while, so thank you so much to everyone who came along with me. And an extra, super-duper thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged their thoughts about the story as we went along. Kind words fuel authors. ❤️ And oh yeah, this chapter's a bit long. Sorry! 😊

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The dividers below were created by @saradika

Y/N didn’t want to look away, she wanted to keep her eyes on Dean. But the white light was absolutely blinding and she eventually had no choice but to turn away from it. The rush of white noise was almost deafening before becoming suddenly silent. 

There was only darkness behind her eyelids now so Y/N opened her eyes and stood up straight, looking at Dean where he still stood, halfway between her and Zachariah. His back was to her and she took a step towards him.

“Dean?” She questioned quietly.

He turned slightly so he could see her over his shoulder. He peered at her for a moment, almost scientifically, before he gave his head a brief shake.

“No.”

Y/N would never be able to explain it, but somehow it was Dean’s face, Dean's voice, and yet it wasn’t him. Something was missing from his sparkling, jewel green eyes.

This was Michael. Dean was gone.

Without a moment’s pause, the archangel strode towards the other angels and in the span of a breath they were all gone, leaving behind only the sound of fluttering wings. 

Y/N stood stock still, staring at the empty, open field where Dean had stood less than a minute before. Around her chaos began to spread. The people who’d been putting out the fire were rushing towards them now, trying to find out what was going on. Screams echoed as people saw Johnston lying dead on the ground.

Everyone was asking her questions, but she had no answers, she had no words. She just stood, as people rushed around her, feeling as though she’d wake up at any moment. She’d wake up and Dean’s arms would be around her and when he woke she’d tell him about the horrible dream and how scary it had been and he’d hold her gently and tell her it was all just a nightmare.

“...I have my arms wrapped tightly around you and we’re both safe…Close your eyes and stay there, in that moment.”

Dean’s soft words whispered their way into her mind and she shivered. This couldn’t be happening.

Without warning her knees buckled and she fell to the muddy, wet ground, her muscles simply going limp. She covered her face as more tears began to fall. She felt the weight of all her tears gathering in her chest, threatening to crush her, when suddenly she heard Risa calling her name.

When she looked up the soldier was standing over her, still holding Emma in her arms. 

“Y/N, you can’t. You just can’t right now. Emma needs you, and I’ve got to… “ She waved an arm towards the people who were panicking all around them.

Y/N felt her mind rebelling, all she wanted was to sit there in the mud and let the cool night air numb her to the all-consuming ache spreading throughout her body. 

But she looked up into Emma’s little, terrified face, and forced herself to really hear the horror and confusion all around her; she knew she couldn’t just fall apart. 

She nodded at Risa and pushed herself to her feet. She took Emma from her and the other woman gave her a nod and moved into action, working with Cas and her fellow soldiers to start organizing the chaos, trying to get campers back to their tents. They also started debating how best to deal with the burnt out cabin and Johnston’s lifeless body

For her part, Y/N simply turned away from the cacophony and walked slowly back to the red tent. Emma was sobbing on her shoulder and Y/N gathered every ounce of her exhausted strength to try and console her little girl.

When they reached the tent Y/N set Emma down on her cot and wrapped a warm blanket around her while she went to light the stove and warm up the tent. After standing out in the cool night air for so long with no jackets, getting them warm was the first order of business.

Before long the little stove was chugging out ample heat, and she went back over to Emma and snuggled her daughter into her lap. After a while the little girl’s tears subsided into deep, shuddering breaths. Her voice was tiny and quiet when she spoke.

“Dean is gone.”

Y/N felt the whispered words pierce her heart. “Yeah, baby.”

“Will he come back?”

“Yes.” Y/N said it without thinking, her soul making the decision. But she didn’t want to lie to her child either, so she amended her comment. “I’m sure he’s going to try really hard to come back.”

Emma seemed to accept that and was quiet for a little while. Then she spoke again, her soft words tinged with fear. 

“Did the bad man kill Eric?”

Y/N squeezed her tighter and nodded against the top of her head. “Yes, baby, because he’s a very bad man.”

“Will he come back to kill us?”

Y/N felt her stomach plummet with fear and heartbreak that her daughter’s mind was so clouded with terror.

Y/N shook her head. “No, baby. He won’t come back now.” She hoped she wasn’t lying.

“Because Dean saved us?”

Y/N felt as though her heart was being crushed. “Yeah, sweet pea, because Dean saved us.”

***

The next few days passed in a haze for Y/N. She was trying desperately to keep it together for Emma’s sake. Her daughter was having nightmares every night and the last thing she needed was her mother crumbling on her. But Y/N was barely sleeping, no more than a couple of hours a night. Every ounce of her being felt exhausted - worn out beyond measure. 

There were no classes to teach, thank goodness; the camp was still disorganized and a bit scattered. A dozen or so campers had left, afraid of more angel retaliation. The campers left behind were trying to salvage what they could from the big cabin, and deal with the rest of the burnt out building. 

Three days after Dean had gone, Cas came to their tent in the evening, carrying extra wood and asking Y/N if she needed anything.

“No, Cas, we’re good. You don’t have to worry about us.” She said with a forced smile.

“I told Dean I would take care of you.” He said with conviction. “It’s still cold at night, hence the wood. What else do you need?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing, Cas. Really.”

He lifted his chin towards Emma who was sleeping on her cot. “How is she?”

Y/N gave a small shrug. “She's trying to cope, like all of us.” 

He nodded and then headed out. As he lifted the tent flap, Y/N called him back. When he turned his bright blue gaze on her she hesitated before asking the question that wouldn't leave her mind.

“Can we get him back? Somehow?”

Cas stared at her intensely for a moment before his eyes softened slightly; his deep voice was gentle as he spoke. 

“We can hope.”

Y/N closed her eyes. “Yes. Hope.”

When she opened her eyes again, the angel was gone.

***

A week after Dean left they still hadn't figured out any way to get him back, or even how to find him. Cas had begun to hear angel radio again, but the angels were being very quiet. Just the odd remark here and there that made Cas believe that they were still in Kansas, but he couldn't be sure.

The camp had gone back to functioning - mostly. But people kept saying things like, “We’ll run it by the Boss and see what he says.” before realizing that was impossible. The soldiers were trying to run things smoothly between them, and Brandy was helping to keep things as organized as possible. 

But Dean was very missed.

A full eight days after losing him, Y/N sat up at the table one night, desperately trying to think up a way to get Dean back to her. Her eyes were scratchy and red-rimmed as she let her head fall into her hands.

She may have fallen asleep right there if there hadn't been a sudden burst of white light. It lit up the tent, blinding her. As it faded slightly, she could just make out a man's shape. Her heart leapt for a moment before realizing this man was much too small to be Dean. 

A deep booming voice spoke and shook the ground around them. 

“Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women. Fear not, Y/N: for thou hast - Ow! Son of a bitch!” 

The angel cut off his proclamation and held up his hands as Y/N smacked him repeatedly with a broom. The last of his angelic light went out like a candle and he grabbed the broom away from Y/N and snapped it with incredible ease. 

“What the hell, lady?” He rubbed the side of his head where she'd walloped him. “You know that worked great with Mary. SHE knew how to be ‘sore afraid’.”

Y/N went to Emma's cot where her daughter was crying silently, obviously horrified to see another angel, inside their tent this time. 

“Get out!” Y/N said with as much strength as she could muster.

“You really don't want that, trust me.” The angel said, his hazel eyes twinkling, a smirk on his thin lips.

“Who are you; what do you want?”

He gave a little bow. “Name’s Gabriel, but I prefer Loki.”

The tent flap opened and suddenly Cas was there with Risa and Patrick flanking him. But Cas pulled up short when he saw the other angel.

“Gabriel?”

“Hey, bro!” Gabriel said cheerfully.

Cas looked to the two soldiers on either side of him. “I'm fine here. You should patrol the area. Look for anything amiss or out of place. But don't approach it without me.”

Both soldiers gave a curt nod and left.

Cas came fully into the tent and his face was very wary. “Gabriel, what are you doing here? Where have you been for the last thousand Millenia or so? Most of us thought you were dead.”

“Nope.” Gabriel's voice was still nonchalant and cheery. “Just in a sort of witness relocation. Got sick to death of Daddy's beefs and Lucifer and Michael's petty squabbling. So, I took a little time off. Sailed around, saw the world, got myself a brand new face.” 

He framed his face with his two hands. “Cute, right?”

Cas just frowned at him and Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You have never known how to have fun Castiel.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Well, these humans are under my protection, so I'll save the fun until after you tell me what you're doing here.”

Gabriel lost his smirk and he crossed his arms. “Isn't it obvious? I'm here to save the day, as always.”

Cas scoffed. “Not likely. You tend to sew chaos.”

Gabriel shrugged. “What can I say, it's a talent.” He moved back to lean against the table. 

“But seriously, I'm so over this apocalypse. As soon as Lucy dumped his little virus on this world, I was outta here. No fun to be had with a bunch of humans barely clinging to life. So, I traveled near and far, all over the galaxy and a little bit further. It's been sort of fun. But let me tell you, there are only so many green-skinned, six-legged chicks you can bang before you start pining for home, you know?”

He gave his head a shake. “Don't know how Captain Kirk did it.”

“Get to the point, brother.” Cas said, annoyance lacing his tone.

“I'm here to help.”

“So you said. How?” Cas asked harshly.

Gabriel shrugged again. “I have a way to shove Lucifer and Michael into the cage.”

From his pocket he pulled out an oddly shaped object. It was an X made up of four circles, four rings, by the looks of it.

He held it up. “Borrowed these from the horsemen. Well,” he shrugged, “to be fair, only Death was willing to part with his, the others didn't wanna give ‘em up easily. But, you know, archangel trumps most. I was glad Death was so cooperative though, he woulda been a tough one to beat.”

Cas stepped up to him and held out his hand. Gabriel dropped the cross into it and Cas peered at it closely.

“The horsemen’s rings. What will this do?”

Gabriel's voice was quiet. “Keys to the cage, brother.”

Cas’ eyes widened. “Lucifer’s cage?”

Gabriel nodded. “And Michael’s too.” He paused for a beat. “And mine.”

Cas frowned. “Yours? Why would you throw yourself into the cage?”

Gabriel shrugged, but Y/N could see a flicker of some deep emotion pass over his mobile features. 

“Someone’s gotta pull those two down there. And I’d say after millions of years, and untold damage to the world, me and my brothers could use some time alone and family therapy.”

He allowed a smile to turn up the corner of his mouth.”From what I understand old Raffy’s taken up as a god on some distant planet. He always did like to be worshiped.” He shrugged again, his smirk firmly back in place. “So, it’s just the three of us.”

Cas shook his head. “Why are you doing all of this, Gabriel?”

The archangel took back the key to the cage and slipped it into his pocket. “Told ya, got sick of banging green chicks on Mars.”

“No. That's…there are no green women on Mars.” Cas said, looking at Y/N as though to reassure her. 

Y/N stood up and walked the few steps to where Gabriel stood, looking him straight in the eye. “Can you bring Dean back?”

Gabriel contemplated her for a moment and then shook his head. “No.” 

Y/N felt her stomach lurch, and she opened her mouth to shout at him, but Gabriel held up a hand, patting his pocket with the other. “With this I can open the cage, and I can pull my brothers down with me to be locked away. But if you want Dean back, you’ve gotta get him to toss Michael first. Otherwise, his body and soul come down too.”

Y/N began to panic. “What are you talking about? You are not dragging Dean down to hell, no matter what!” She shouted, her fists balled. “I will not let you.”

Gabriel’s smile looked genuine for the first time as he looked at Y/N fuming in front of him before turning to Cas. “She’s feisty! Dean knows how to pick ‘em!”

He looked back at Y/N and held both his hands up in surrender. “Look, I can’t extract Michael from Dean’s body, it doesn’t work that way; Dean has to be the one to throw him out. And there’s nothing I could say to give him that kind of strength.” He tilted his head slightly. “But you might be able to. You’re our best shot.”

He looked to Cas. “If she can get Dean to toss Michael, I’ll grab on to him. I’ll be able to hold him for a little while. Hopefully long enough to get to Lucifer and try to get Sam Winchester to eject him.” 

He shook his head. “That one’s gonna be a lot harder, and I’m not gonna lie, I don’t hold out very much hope. I also don’t know what kind of shape Sam’s gonna be in even if he can get him out. He’s held Lucifer for five years now, he might be too far gone.”

Cas nodded. “If we can get Dean, he can get Sam. Or, he’ll be the best chance anyway. And if Sam manages to eject Lucifer, Dean won’t care what condition he’s in, he’ll fix him.”

Gabriel gave a nod. “We’ll see, I suppose. But we gotta start with Dean so…” He looked at Y/N. “What do you say, beautiful?”

Y/N contemplated him for a moment before looking at Cas. “Do you trust him?”

Cas was quiet for a long time, looking Gabriel over, the debate clear in his expression. 

The archangel rolled his eyes. “Thanks, bro.”

Finally Cas nodded. “Yes, I believe we can trust him.”

Y/N took a deep breath, hope and fear spreading throughout her body in equal measure. “Okay, then let’s go save the Winchesters.”

***

Their traveling party was prepared and ready to go in very little time, most of which was spent explaining to Emma why she couldn’t come. 

Y/N knew how terrified her little girl must be, thinking she was losing her mother now too. Eventually though, her tears subsided and her little face became resolved to what was happening. It broke Y/N’s heart to see that resolve, to know that her daughter’s soft heart was getting tougher. 

Y/N swore to herself that she was going to bring Dean home, and they would live happily ever after, spoiling Emma and letting her go soft once again.

Before they left, Y/N gave Monique a hug and thanked her again. She’d pulled her friend aside earlier and spoken quietly with her, asking her to take care of Emma if anything should happen to her. Tears had welled up in Monique’s beautiful amber eyes but she’d clasped Y/N’s hands tightly. 

“I will always look after Emma as my very own.” She shook her head and dashed away her tears. “But you’ll be back in no time, I’m sure. So, I’ll see you soon.”

The soldiers, Brandy and Monique had all checked privately with Y/N about whether or not she was really okay to set off with two angels. Y/N reassured them that she trusted Cas completely and he trusted Gabriel. So she did too. Besides, she’d reasoned, if this was their only possibility to save Dean, she had to take it. 

Gabriel said he knew just where Michael was staying, so she held Cas’ hand as the archangel tapped his brother’s shoulder and in a blink they were suddenly standing just outside a rundown Victorian house. 

The springtime sun was just beginning to lighten the sky in the East as they popped into existence on the sidewalk outside the house.

She hadn’t even had time to wave goodbye.

The three of them walked slowly up the front stairs and through the door. As they entered the house they heard a voice call from the back. 

“The polite thing to do would have been to call first, you know.”

Y/N felt her heart leap. She recognized Dean’s voice, but it sounded different. The consonants were more clipped, the words more even in tone, almost bland, bored. His voice had none of Dean’s rough, expressive way of speaking.

The dissonance continued as they walked into the sitting room and found Dean. He held himself ramrod straight, and when he turned towards them, his face held none of Dean’s stony anger, or joyful exuberance. It too was bland, cold, his normally shining, emerald eyes looked almost empty.

Looking at this version of Dean was very difficult. Somehow being in front of this non-Dean made Y/N miss him even more. 

But he never spared her a glance. All his attention was on his brothers. “Castiel, it’s been a long time. And Gabriel,” he looked him up and down, “it’s been even longer. Millions of years, in fact. I almost didn’t recognize you in this vessel.”

“Yeah, got this one custom made by a good friend of mine.” He ran a hand across his chest. “I’ve grown quite fond of my earthly form, so I’m happy I don’t have to share it with a human, and I don’t ever have to turn into a bright white mist, cause there's no human inside to reject me. This beautiful face is mine all mine.”

He smiled wide, but Michael just frowned. “That’s sacrilege, brother. Our angelic form is greater than any human disguise.”

Gabriel shrugged. “But they sure come in handy don’t they. If you wanna get anything done on earth, they really are a necessity.” He raised a hand towards him. “Hence all your trouble to get this one.” 

Gabriel's tone became grandiose and overwrought. “For here is your sword, your one true vessel. Destined for eons to be the one human whose bones you were the most eager to jump.”

Michael stared at him soundlessly for a moment and then spoke in the same even, emotionless tone. “Why are you here, Gabriel? And why have you brought this human?” He pointed at Y/N, but still didn’t look at her.

Gabriel paused a beat before answering. “Well, we have a bone to pick with you.” 

That was the signal to spur Cas into action. A white light shot out from Gabriel’s hands, connecting him to Michael. As the two archangels fought, Michael trying desperately to break the hold Gabriel had on him, Cas ran in front of him, drawing a straight line from wall to wall in holy oil and then dropping a lit match, trapping Michael behind the line of flame. 

Gabriel let his brother go, grunting with effort as the connection broke. Michael’s borrowed face was no longer emotionless, it was furious and bubbling with hate. 

“How dare you!” He shouted at Gabriel. “How dare you try to interfere with my destiny. This fight has been postponed for five long years while Lucifer ran amok. It is my duty to fight him and end him!”

Gabriel was scowling at his big brother a moment before a wide grin spread across his face. “You said doody.”

Everyone paused to look at him askance, and he shrugged. “What? That’s funny! Nobody has a sense of humor these days.” 

He shook his finger at Michael. “You know who would have laughed at that, the man you’re possessing. He would have thought it was hilarious. Or at least, he would have before the apocalypse struck. Been a bit down in the mouth since Lucifer possessed his brother and ended the world.”

Michael was still livid and he spoke through gritted teeth. “We tried to tell Dean that I needed my sword, that I needed my vessel to fight Lucifer, but he wouldn’t listen. He brought this on humanity.”

“Bullshit!” Gabriel called out and all traces of his humor were gone. “You could have used another vessel, you could have made due as Lucifer did before Sam. But no, you wanted THIS vessel.” He pointed at Dean. “And you were pissed you couldn’t have him, so you threw a hissy fit and left the world to burn.”

Silence reigned for a moment before Gabriel spoke again, quiet now. “And I left with you. I cashed in my chips and walked away from the table. But I kept an eye on humanity while I was galivanting around the universe. Kind of an old habit, and what I saw shocked me. The world was over, civilization destroyed, and yet - on they all trudged. These people. These humans. They kept on fighting. These flawed broken toys we all mocked and looked down on, they fought, they loved, they helped each other, they won and lost, but no matter what, they just kept going.”

Michael was motionless as Gabriel continued, pointing towards Y/N. “And just as there was a possibility of hope, just as they found a way they might be able to win, might be able to restart the world, here you come again, army in tow, ready to level the planet all over. And for what? So you can fight some ancient grudge match with our brother?” He shook his head. “What is the bloody point?”

Dean’s jaw ticked with Michael’s annoyance. “It’s my destiny. It’s what I was created to do.”

Gabriel looked sad as he glanced over at Y/N. “Well, not if she can help it.”

Y/N knew this was her time, it was on her now to help Dean find strength enough to eject the possessing angel. Michael’s cold eyes looked at her through Dean’s sparkling jade and she closed her own for a moment, imagining the warmth in Dean’s expression before she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

“Dean, can you hear me? I need you to listen, I need you to trust me. Throw him out. I’ll be safe, Emma and I will both be safe now. But I need you to come back home.”

“Dean isn’t available at the moment.” Michael said darkly. But she could see him squinting, almost as though he was in pain and Y/N chose to believe that Dean was fighting him from the inside. 

She kept talking as though Michael hadn't spoken.

“I have so many plans for us. Once we’ve made the cure possible, and the world is able to begin again, I really want us to go back home, back to Chitaqua. I wanna build a cabin there. Nothing fancy, you know, just something a bit bigger than the tent, but still cozy - with a bedroom door that locks.” She finished with a wide grin.

She stepped a little closer to him, careful to avoid the flame. “And, of course, I think we’re gonna have to get Emma that dog she asked for. And we can celebrate birthdays and holidays with all of our friends and family. We’ll keep them all close, and safe.”

Michael was stepping back from her, looking away and shaking his head as though he was dizzy. 

“Dean, I love you so much. All I want is to spend my life with you. Please kick him out. I know how strong you are, I know you can do it.”

“I’ll kill her!” Michael screamed out suddenly, as though his inner thoughts weren’t loud enough for Dean to hear. “You understand me? If you want her to live, want to keep her safe, stop fighting me. Now!”

Michael was breathing hard, but a joyless smile was spreading across Dean's beautiful face; the archangel was obviously pleased. 

“That's better.” He whispered, still slightly out of breath.

They were losing Dean, she could see it. Michael was terrorizing him again with threats against her. So, acting purely on instinct, Y/N made one last attempt, one huge Hail Mary. 

She took a deep breath and leapt over the fire, throwing her arms around Dean’s neck. She pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him with every ounce of love and passion she could muster. 

She put everything into the kiss, every moment she’d loved him, and every promise she was making him were all there, tied up with all the hope in her heart. 

She felt a tingling against her lips that started to burn as she pulled away. She jumped back and fell to the ground as Dean let out a roar, and his mouth opened wide. The blinding white light that had consumed him was being forced back out of him, in an incredible light show that ended abruptly as Gabriel reached out and pulled the light into himself.

The darkness was complete for a moment before Y/N’s eyes could adjust. As the world came into focus, she could see Gabriel on the other side of the flame, breathing hard and fast. Cas walked to his side and poured some of his own white light into Gabriel, which seemed to stabilize him slightly. 

But his voice was still wobbly when he spoke. “We gotta go. I don’t know how long I can hold him in here with me.”

Y/N nodded and crawled over to where Dean had fallen to the floor. She turned his face towards her just as his eyes fluttered open. 

“Y/N?” He whispered and she nodded at him with tears flowing.

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m safe. We’re all safe.”

Dean shook his head. “But how…” He sat up slowly and looked towards where Cas and Gabriel stood. He squinted and shook his head in confusion. “The Trickster’s an angel?”

Cas’ eyes widened as he looked at Gabriel. “You were the Trickster the boys went up against? Twice?” 

Dean’s voice was slightly annoyed. “Yeah, he killed me like a million times.”

Y/N felt her stomach lurch, but Gabriel just waved it away as nothing. “I was trying to teach you boys something; wasn’t my finest moment maybe, but you gotta admit, the tacos were funny.”

“Not to me, asshole.” Dean grumbled. Y/N was very confused and about to ask for clarification when Gabriel bent double.

“Ugh!” He groaned. “Okay, could you postpone my spanking for that very hilarious prank until after I’ve saved you all?”

Y/N nodded and helped Dean to his feet. Gabriel looked at him. “Okay, pal, this one’s on you. We’re gonna go get Lucifer so I can toss all of us into the cage. We can try to get Sam to chuck him first. We’ll need you for that. But if you can’t get him, and it seems like Lucifer might get away, I’ll grab Sam as is and jump into the cage.”

Dean stormed up to him. “You are not taking my brother to hell, you understand me?” 

Gabriel just shrugged. “Then I guess you better reach him before it’s too late.”

He groaned again as he fought his brother internally, closing his eyes and putting a hand to his head. Without saying any more, they all got into position so Gabriel could zap them to Lucifer’s location. 

Just before he could manage it however, there was a bellow of rage from behind them, making them all turn. From the doorway, Zachariah charged forward, angel blade bared and aimed for Dean’s jugular. 

Dean shoved Y/N out of the way as the angel charged them like a bull. But when he was just a couple feet from Dean, Cas stuck his foot out, sending the furious angel spilling to the ground in a comical looking pratfall. 

He fell onto the still burning holy fire and screamed in pain, rolling around, trying to escape the flames. Before he could pull himself free, however, Dean grabbed onto the silver blade the angel had dropped. He raised it high, and then plunged it deep into his throat, forever freezing the angel's sadistic face in agony. 

More blinding white lights burst out of the dying angel, forcing Y/N to once again cover her head and shield her eyes. When she reopened them, she could see the angel’s blackened wings, as his empty vessel was slowly consumed in the flame. 

Dean stood up and then helped Y/N to her feet. After giving her a once over to determine she was alright, he turned to Cas. 

“Nice job, buddy. Very Keystone Cops.”

Cas frowned. “I don’t know an officer by that name.”

Dean just smiled and then slipped the blade into his pocket as he looked down at the dead angel. 

“Good riddance.” He said under his breath before a panting Gabriel yanked him back into position and zapped them all away.

Suddenly, in another heartbeat, they were all standing in a bombed out street; the buildings around them were crumbling and burnt. It was all that was left after some of the original fighting between the army and the Croats five years before. The bombings hadn’t worked. 

As they stood looking around, a man caught their eye. He was strolling out of one of the buildings less than twenty feet away; he was very tall and had long brown hair and an easy stride. 

Y/N could hear Dean gasp slightly beside her and she took his hand. The man, who could only be Lucifer, slowed down as he approached them. His smile was soft and patronizing.

“Well, well. This is a surprise. What a merry little band of rebels you’ve all turned into.” 

He nodded at Gabriel. “Our brothers and sisters all thought you must have been killed somewhere, but I knew better.” He studied him for a minute before smirking. “And I see he got hold of you, Mikey!” He said loudly. He chuckled. “He always was a cuck.”

He frowned slightly as he spared barely a glance for the rest of them. “But Gabe, buddy if you’re here to try and put me back in that cage?” He raised his hand and closed it into a fist and Gabriel began coughing as though he was choking. “Well, that simply isn’t going to happen.” 

Cas ran forward to help, but Lucifer tossed him aside with a sweep of his hand. Dean pushed Y/N to crouch behind an upside down car. “Stay here.” He warned, before turning back towards his brother.

“Sammy?” He called tentatively. Lucifer looked over at him and dropped Gabriel to the ground as he let him go. He faced Dean and shook his head. 

“You.” The devil said, his voice menacing. “You have no idea how sick I am of you. Do you know how many times I’ve had to listen to Sammy bellyaching about how he was letting you down? Do you know how ANNOYING it is to execute a perfect reign of terror just to have this boy,” he banged his chest, “weeping in my head instead of truly reveling in it with me?”

He shook his head. “It’s only been quiet in here since I threatened to find you and end you. See that’s how I got Sammy’s cooperation in the first place. I promised that if he said yes I wouldn’t snap your neck like kindling.” 

He waved towards Dean dismissively. “You were sound asleep at the time, you wouldn’t remember this. But Sam finally said yes, as I always knew he would, and in return I promised that you could keep on living. So when Sam wouldn’t shut up and stop whining, a simple threat to revoke our original deal was enough to silence him.”

He smiled, and Y/N thought it was pure sin for such a sweet, dimpled smile to sit on the face of evil. Lucifer tilted his head slightly as though he was listening to something. 

“But now…hey Sammy.” He said in a silky tone. “Been quiet so long, I'd actually started to miss you.”

Dean took a step closer. “Sammy, can you hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m so sorry, more than I can ever say. I never should’ve walked away from you. We should have fought these assholes together. I should have known that we’re stronger together than apart.”

He swallowed. “But you’ve gotta chuck him. We’ve got a plan, little brother, we can win. Believe me.”

Lucifer rolled Sam’s bright, hazel eyes just before he slammed his fist into Dean’s face, almost knocking him to the ground. 

Gabriel shot light at his brother, but it was much weaker than what he’d thrown at Michael; so much of his strength was being used to keep Michael locked inside himself. Cas added his strength, but Lucifer quickly pushed them both away, severing their hold on him. 

Blood gushed from Dean’s lip, his jaw already swollen and purple, as he started forward again. 

“Sammy, I need you to force him out. I know how strong you are. I know you can do it. I never should have doubted it, never should have believed they could defeat us. We are Winchesters and we never-” 

He broke off as Lucifer landed two more swift blows to his face, causing a sickening crack as Dean’s nose shattered and he crashed to the ground.

Y/N gasped and jumped up, running forward even though there was nothing she could possibly do. Gabriel and Cas fought him again, forcing Lucifer to stumble back slightly. But he found his footing quickly and severed the hold as he had before, this time sending both angels sailing through the air. 

Lucifer stared at Dean, hatred spreading across Sam's handsome features. "I am done with you." He shouted. "You are not worth my time."

Looking as though it was a struggle, as though the body he was possessing was fighting back, Lucifer raised his arm, his fingers poised to snap. Y/N screamed, memories bursting in her mind of the swiftness with which Zachariah had ended Johnston’s life with a mere snap.

But before he could manage it, Lucifer once again stumbled backwards. This time, however, Cas and Gabriel had barely risen from the ground and were just walking back towards them. 

Lucifer dropped his arm and fell suddenly to his knees. “No.” He whispered, shock suffusing the word, and then he screamed. “No!” The ground shook and rumbled, knocking all of them down.

Suddenly a burst of white light erupted from Sam’s mouth, and as he had before, Gabriel reached forward with his own light to trap his brother. 

The light suffused the archangel-turned-Trickster; it was no longer being wholly contained within himself, but spilling out of him as he tried to hold on to all of their angelic forms within his one custom-made vessel. 

Jerkily he reached into his pocket and threw the key at Cas. “Now, brother!” 

Cas tossed it to the ground and began chanting. As the chant ended, a wide hole began to crack open in the street.

Gabriel pitched forward towards the hole, but his body seemed to be disobeying his commands - his brothers were fighting against him with all their strength. The light emanating from Gabriel seemed to be splitting, as though the other two archangels were separating from him.

With one last surge of strength, Gabriel leapt forward and dove headfirst into the hole in front of him. There were deafening sounds of furious screaming that were quickly swallowed up as the ground closed around them.

There was only silence for a long time, as they all struggled to get their bearings, to reconcile what had just happened. 

Y/N was the first to move, running to Dean just as he stood up, and then collapsing in his arms. Dean held her tightly, kissing the top of her head and then cupping her cheeks to kiss her mouth, hard and fast. He pulled away and smiled.

Cas stepped forward to tap his fingers to Dean's forehead, instantly clearing the blood and bruises. 

Dean nodded and smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks, Cas.”

He looked back at Y/N and his beautiful eyes and mobile, expressive face were once again his own and Y/N rejoiced.

Dean turned them both to face Sam where he still knelt on the ground. With a quick squeeze, Dean stepped away from her to reach out a hand to his little brother.

Sam hesitated only a moment before he took it and let Dean pull him to his feet. The two men stared at each other for a minute before Dean yanked Sam towards him to wrap the taller man up in a bear hug, his arms wrapping over Sam’s shoulders and clinging tightly. 

Sam’s face crumpled slightly and he crushed his brother’s ribs as he hugged him back. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t…” He trailed off, but Dean was shaking his head. 

“No, Sam, no.” He pulled back to clap his hand against the side of Sam’s neck. “This isn’t on you.” Sam gave him a look and Dean shook his head. “Well, it’s certainly not all on you. We both fucked up, but we have a chance to fix things now.”

He turned back to Y/N and held his arm out towards her. She stepped forward to take his hand. Dean was beaming as he made the introductions.

“Sam, Y/N, Y/N, Sam.” Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean grinned. “Meet my wife.”

Sam’s eyes widened and Y/N gasped. “What?” She squeaked. 

Dean shrugged. “Well okay, maybe there’s still the formalities to go through, like the wedding ceremony.”

“And a proposal!” Y/N said, laughing from sheer joy, utter exhaustion and the madness of their new reality.

Dean grinned at her. “You saying you don’t wanna?”

Y/N beamed up at him. “Definitely not saying that.”

Cas interrupted. “Before you start planning the wedding, can we go home?”

Sam looked dazed and spoke softly as though trying to decide if it was all just a dream. “Where is home?”

Dean clapped him on the back. “Camp Chitaqua. You’re gonna love it, Sammy! Trust me. It’s paradise.”

“With outhouses.” Y/N said with a snort.

Sam’s smile was soft, and it suited his kind, handsome face much more than it had ever fit the devil.

“Sounds perfect. Let’s go home.”

Cas stepped forward and in a blink they were back in the field where the spring vegetables were just sprouting - where they could hear the voices of their friends and neighbors, and smell the thick scent of pine and new earth.

There was a cry of shock as the campers saw them all suddenly standing there. Shouts conveyed the message quickly throughout the camp and everyone came running to see their return. 

Y/N let out a cry of happiness as she saw Emma racing towards her, her little legs eating up the distance surprisingly fast. As she reached them, Dean scooped her up and pulled Y/N into the circle of his embrace so that the three of them hugged each other tightly. 

The rest of the day was spent celebrating and rejoicing, hours of storytelling, and off-key singing around campfires, food shared and enjoyed by everyone. 

Eventually, Dean, Y/N and Emma broke away to bring Sam to Dean’s old tent. They lit a lamp and Dean gave Sam the grand tour, pointing the way to the outhouses from there, and assuring him the cot was more comfortable than it looked. 

Sam nodded, still looking as though he couldn’t take it all in. Seeing his confusion, Y/N kissed Dean on the cheek and picked up Emma’s hand. 

“You boys have so much to catch up on. You should take some time together.”

Sam shook his head. “No, you’ve been away from each other long enough. This reunion should be yours.” He said, nodding at Y/N and Dean. Throughout the day he’d been caught up on how everything went down with Michael and Zachariah. 

But Y/N shook her head. “We’ve been apart a week, you’ve been apart for years. You need this time.”

Dean looked down at her, love shining in his gaze, before tossing his brother a smile. “Don’t bother arguing, Sammy, she always wins.”

He bent down and kissed Y/N deeply, making Emma curl her lip.

“Ew.” She said succinctly, and Y/N laughed as she pulled out of the kiss. 

She looked at Sam and then moved in for a hug. Sam hugged her back and she beamed up at him. 

“I'm so glad to know you, Sam Winchester. Welcome home.”

With that she pulled Emma out of the tent to let the brothers get to know each other again.

Hours and hours later, the camp was finally quiet. A lamp glowed here and there as people slowly settled into their tents for the night. A happy peace settled over the camp, blanketing it in coziness and calm.

Y/N had sung Emma to sleep an hour before and was now stretched out on her own cot. She was planning on waiting for Dean to come back from visiting with his brother. But almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, her absolute exhaustion hit her and she was out immediately.

She woke with a start some time later, and then sighed deeply as she felt Dean’s arms tighten around her. Across the room she could hear Emma’s soft snores and her eyes filled with tears as the reality hit her anew that they were all truly together again, safe and sound. She turned in Dean’s arms so she could face him.

“Dean.” She whispered. 

He smiled a sleepy smile and kissed her softly. “You were sleeping so soundly when I got home, I didn’t want to disturb you.” He whispered back, voice craggy with sleep.

“How is Sam?” She asked.

Dean sighed. “He’s okay. Gonna take time for him to be a hundred percent, you know. But he’s here, and he’s smiling, and he’s...Sammy.” He shrugged slightly. “So, that’s enough for now.”

Y/N nodded and wiped away a tear, finally making Dean notice them in the dark. His voice sounded slightly worried as he cupped her cheek and thumbed away the wetness. “Sweetheart, you're crying. Why?”

Y/N shook her head. “Because all my hopes and dreams have come true. We’re together, we’re safe, the camp is safe, the devil’s gone, and we actually have a real chance of remaking the world.”

Dean’s voice voice was a bit choked up too as he responded, grinning. “Yeah, but I don't plan on forgetting that promise you made me. When the world is fixed, we’re coming back here to live out our days in a big log cabin with locking doors and indoor plumbing, right?”

Y/N giggled. “I’m not sure about the indoor plumbing, but everything else is definitely in the cards, I hope.”

Dean pulled her close and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Well, we’re in the business of hope, so I think our chances are good.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

[creedslove]

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART ELEVEN

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: You try to figure out your feelings for Jack and realize it's not a smart move to do so while drunk and flirting with him, when he thinks things are improving, he gets a harsh evidence things aren't just as easy as he thought

(this is the eleventh chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE TO TEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: fluff, sexual tension, more fluff because Wyatt is the sweetest kid in the world, bitchy mother-in-law, angst, sad!jack, mom!reader

A/N: Hi besties, I know it's been a while since we've seen our cowboy, and well, I hope you enjoy it!!! I know I did because I can't resist this mf, he's just perfect even if he's a broken sad cowboy 😭🤠

4k words

Jack's heart was beating probably too fast in his chest, it hammered against his rib cage but he didn't care. He was feeling like a million bucks, as he was finally getting some crumbles of your love. Nothing more than crumbles, but it was already enough for him, better than suffering with your despise and indifference. In a short span of minutes you two had almost kissed - if it weren't for his former mother-in-law, and you had also referred to Wyatt as your son. Your as in him and yours, and that couldn't make him happier at that moment, it might have seemed something small, but it made the difference in that cowboy's old broken heart, it was like the walls you built were falling down and that he could approach you, even if it wasn't in a romantic way, he still felt satisfied to be around you as friends, at least he could talk to you without having to break the ice all the time, he touch you - small hugs, occasional hand holding - and though he yearned for more, it was the best he would get after everything he'd done, so it was good, he'd rather torture himself by having his family close without actually being able to claim them as his, than suffer completely alone like he'd done for the past years.

He smiled at you, seeing how your cheeks were flushed because of the alcohol and patted his pocket finally finding the car keys and handing them to you 

"Go ahead sugar, you're less drunk than I am, you should be driving" he winked at you and chuckled as you widened your eyes the moment you grabbed the Bronco keys. Ever since you first started dating Jack, you dreamed of driving his Bronco, but as the cocky asshole he often was, he never let you - or anyone else really - drive his car. There were some things Jack was just so territorial and wouldn't let anyone to lie their hands on, and well, you were also one of those things once. Jack was possessive of you, he liked showing people you were his and just his, the way he would hold you, kiss you and make everyone else see who you belonged to. 

And in your drunken state as you two exited the bar, you kinda wished Jack would do it again. Just a few minutes ago you were about to kiss each other and now he watched you, and you watched him back, staring into his eyes, getting lost in them, and taking a real look at your Jack…. He was so handsome, his beautiful side profile was enough to make you weak at the knees, his sharp jawline always so smooth as he kept his beard shaved and his mustache trimmed. Any other man would look stupid with Jack's looks, but your cowboy… he was something else. 

"What?" He asked you, grinning with that devilish smile as you wouldn't stop staring 

"I-" you began to talk but you had a better idea - well, not really a better idea, rather a drunk idea - and took the hat off his head, chuckling at how cute his messy hair looked and put it on your head. 

Jack was shocked for a split second. Were you flirting with him? 

"Did you forget about the cowboy hat rule, sugar?" He raised his eyebrow at you and before you could answer, you tripped and nearly fell, but Jack immediately wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him. Maybe you weren't less drunk than he was after all, so it was safer if you two just got a cab to your mom's.

Leaving the bar and waiting for a cab on the sidewalk wasn't the greatest idea either, the wind was howling and you were shivering, and both you and Jack knew that if it weren't for Wyatt, the wisest option would be getting a fancy hotel room and spending the night. 

If you hadn't drunk as much as you did that night, you would be probably censoring yourself for having those shameless thoughts about him, giggling at the shit he said, pretending you didn't notice you were still clinging to him even after you got your balance back, after all, you were wearing his hat, for crying out loud! He was the same man who didn't accept your pregnancy, that kicked you out of your home and abandoned you to raise your baby alone, and once he came back, he just brought chaos back into your life, for several times he'd hurt you, told you cruel things and even threatened to take your son away from you. It was so wrong to behave like that, and a part of your brain kept repeating that over and over, while the other part seemed to only listen to your heart, taking you back to your sweetest and hottest memories you had shared at that same bar and in those hotel rooms.It would be easier if you could just blame it on the booze, as if having a few too many changed everything about your personality and made you forget about all the pain Jack caused you. But at the same time, it felt like you were in the presence of your Jack, the cowboy you loved, the one that was so sweet, flirty and gentle with you. The man that was a little cocky at first but he also made you feel like the only girl in the world, the one who would ravish you in bed and make your legs shake but would also hold you and cuddle you until you fell asleep. You two had an awkward encounter at first, you went on a date with your new boyfriend and Jack was waiting for his own date, you'd been so jealous of him and if you wondered if he'd been jealous of you, now you were sure of it, and that made you feel pretty good about yourself. 

Perhaps it was the way Jack was humiliated by the girl he was supposed to have a date with, the one that revealed herself to be another agent and nothing more, or maybe how he was so honest about the disaster he called his last mission and how things escalated from a fun, drunk conversation, into a confession of dark thoughts Jack didn't have the courage to share with anyone, not even his therapist. All that helped you to see your sweet old cowboy in those man's cold eyes, and when you stared into them, you realized they weren't cold anymore, they were warm and soft and that was when you were sure your Jack was back. 

ou were just so tired of restricting yourself all the time, you were also tired of people restricting you as well, always talking about how bad Jack Daniels was and how you shouldn't let him in. It was your mom, your friends, even Frankie had told you Jack was a dick, and though you knew they were all correct, you felt tired of being reminded of that the entire time, at least your own thoughts were private and in them you could allow yourself to surrender completely to your cowboy, because God knew that if he tried to make any move on you, you'd let him. 

Instead, you felt when his suit jacket was placed over your shoulders and he smiled down at you "don't want you to freeze, sugar" he winked as now you were wearing his jacket, his hat and you kept your arm wrapped tight around his waist, and you felt lucky that despite everything, Jack was still a gentleman, because any other guy would have interpreted all those signs wrong - actually correct, because you did want it - but he knew you'd had too much alcohol for that, even if he knew that once you sobered up he would've missed his chance of having you again. 

He opened the door so you would get in the cab and immediately joined you, giving your mother's address to the driver. You smiled and decided you wouldn't fight your urges, not that night, feeling safe knowing Jack would respect your boundaries and you wouldn't do anything that would hurt your boyfriend - that's what you told yourself at least - and as soon as Jack sat next to you, you wrapped your arm around him and rested against his chest. You were aware of how ridiculous you probably looked, a cowboy hat, a jacket that was way too big for you, and snuggling the man you swore you hated just a day before. Jack was caught by surprise, but smiled softly as he wrapped his arm around your body, stroking your back up and down. 

"Sugar, I was thinking about our little boy's birthday, and I would like to throw him a party on our ranch" he cleared his throat "well, my ranch, but it's gonna be yours too one day, you know, when I-" 

"Don't say that Jack" you asked him, looking into his eyes, "please… I have something to ask you" you bit your lips 

"Anything you want, sugar" 

"Don't kill yourself on another mission, Jack, please. You have our son, and our son needs his daddy too" 

Jack's heart melted at your lovely words, he'd longed to be accepted into the family just like that and now it was finally happening. 

"I won't, sugar… I got our family to take care of, even if you don't want me, you're still my responsibility and I'll make sure you're safe" his hand went for your face caressing your soft skin so gently, appreciating how it felt under his rough fingertips, you closed your eyes, leaning towards his touch and gently placing your lips on his chin, as you spread a trail of soft kisses all over his jawline before getting to his lips. Jack's breath got caught in his chest, his body overflowing with love as his hands squeezed you tighter against him, getting ready to deepen the kiss when the driver suddenly pulled up the car. 

"We're here" the man announced which quickly snapped the two of you out of the haze you were both deep into. 

You cleared your throat and blushed and Jack licked his lips, getting his wallet and paying for the ride. 

He helped out of the car and kept his hand on the small of your back, escorting you, like the southern gentleman he was. You two entered the building and took the elevator and suddenly you could see Jack tensing up. It was no secret your mom hated him, from the very beginning, even before things went to shit between the two of you. There was something she just couldn't stand about him, maybe the fact he was older, or that he'd been married before, or his manners - despite the fact Jack was a polite man, she still didn't think it was enough. She couldn't stand him and he reciprocated the feeling. During his first marriage, he could never understand all those mother-in-law jokes and why people often said they were as bad as they often did. His first wife's mom was a delight, a sweet woman who treated Jack like a son.

No wonder he kept in touch with her through all the years after his sweetheart passed away, until her lovely mother joined her beloved daughter in heaven; but it was your mom that made Jack learn why so many people talked about mother-in-laws in such a derogatory way. She hated Jack, she did from the start, and he had no other option than to accept and try his hardest to ignore her constant offenses and provocations. So now, he didn't even want to think of what your mom thought of him after Wyatt was born. 

As if you read Jack's thoughts, you touched his cheek, making him look at you 

"It's alright cowboy, if she starts acting out, we'll just leave, don't worry" you assured him and took a deep breath and got yourself back together as the doors opened and you walked to your mom's apartment. 

She'd left the door unlocked - something Whiskey strongly disapproved of for safety matters, of course, after all he was an agent and knew people should be way more careful than they were - and the two of you walked inside. Your mom had Wyatt on her lap, he sniffed as she tried wiping his tears, but his teary eyes were enough evidence she wasn't able to succeed.

"What happened baby?" You rushed to him, a sad expression immediately took your face as your heart tightened in your chest to see your little boy so upset. Wyatt jumped off his grandma's lap, widening eyes and a growing smile on his handsome little face

"Mama! Dada!" He squealed happily and ran towards you and Jack, who knelt just beside you and also opened his arms to welcome him. Wyatt ran to the two of you, feeling the warmth of the safety in being with both his parents, snuggling you both as best as his little arms could reach before looking at you with amusement and adoration at the sight of you with the hat on "cowboy hat mama! Like dada and mine!" He said happily and pointed at the stetson you'd stolen from Jack and grabbed it, placing it on your son's head seeing the happiness in his little eyes.

Jack chuckled and picked him up "well it ain't my favorite little cowboy?" He felt the way Wyatt's arms wrapped around his neck and his heart broke a little to think he could have that every day after coming back from work "were you nice to grandma?" Wyatt saw as his dada raised his eyebrow and immediately nodded, he had behaved well even if grandma's house wasn't fun. Whiskey smiled and tickled his tummy, earning the most lovely giggles from his little boy. 

Your mom shot you the dirtiest look the moment she caught Jack walking into the apartment, but you couldn't care less about it, so you turned your back to her and gave your son attention. 

"What happened to you, love? Grandma said you were upset?" You tilted your head curious to know what could've possibly bothered your son. 

Wyatt looked down and then at his grandma again, unsure if he should say anything at all or not. Jack gently wiped a single tear that ran down his son's beautiful face "it's okay Wyatt, sometimes cowboys get sad too, it ain't a shame to cry, but we can't make our mamas worried, cowboy mamas don't like to be worried about their little cowboys…" he tried reasoning his son, who let out a small giggle at his dad's fun words. 

"Bad dweam mama. Mama was gone and dada was gone" he explained "told gwandma but gwandma said I have no dada because dada no wove Wyatt" 

Jack closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying his best to keep his anger in check, as he shot daggers at his former mother-in-law. He couldn't believe that old bitch had the nerve to say that. Yes, Jack had been a shitty father for the first years of his son's life, but he was back in the picture and there wasn't anyone that old broken cowboy loved more than his son, and his son's mother.

He gently held his son's chin, finding fascinating the contrast between his big, calloused hands on his son's perfect, small face. Jack's thumb stroked his cheek 

"Your dada loves you very much Wyatt. More than anything in the world, and I know I wasn't around for you and mama and that made mama sad, but I'll always be with you two" he pecked his son's forehead and threw his small blanket over his back. Jack's arm snaked around your waist pulling you closer "let's get the two of you home" he informed, ignoring your mom who was speechless to see you so cozy next to him. Wyatt snuggled his dad's neck and closed his eyes, his heart was warm with love and reassurance. 

                         •••

As the three of you walked into your apartment, Wyatt was deeply asleep in his father's arms. You smiled to see how Wyatt still his jammies under the blanket and how quick he was able to calm down thanks to Jack. He followed your instructions to tuck Wyatt in and as soon as he came back, with his stetson in hands, you handed him a glass of water "I'm really sorry about my mom… I didn't know she would say something like that. She doesn't like you obviously, but we just always avoided talking about a father figure to Wyatt so we wouldn't break his little heart" Jack nodded in silence "I told her you were back in the picture and that you and I were working to be on good terms, you know, co-parent and be friends… She said it was a bad idea but didn't say anything else, I just didn't think she would be mean to the point of telling her own grandson this shit" you sniffed and Jack pulled you into a tight hug. His hands ran up and down your back, resting his chin on your head 

"It's alright sugar, none of this is your fault. You've been perfect from day one. You've been perfect to me and you were the best girlfriend in the world and you would've been the best wife too, if I hadn't screwed things up… I was so scared, I know it doesn't justify and it never will, but I was scared of trying to build a family and losing it like the first time. I was so deep in my own fears that I hadn't realized I was about to make the worst mistake of my life. I'm really sorry I did this to you, because you had nothing but love to offer me, while I offered you the second place because I was too blind by my grief, but now I see, now that I'm going to therapy, that I'm trying to fix myself, I see that I was scared of letting go of her, of her memory, I was scared I was going to betray her. Until I finally saw that was madness, sugar, because she is gone, she's a beautiful memory and I'll always carry her and our son in a part of my heart, but they belong in the past. I see now you're the love of my life, you've always been, I was just too blind to see it, and I lost you, but I promise I won't grieve you, I'll be here, strong and alive for you and Wyatt, if there's ever a chance of a future with you, even if all I get is visiting on weekends I'll still take it. Nothing will ever change the monstrous thing I did to you, but I want you to know I regret it for the rest of my life" 

Your breath was shaking as you look up at him, you could feel the emotion in his voice, the truth in them and the tears in his eyes. 

"Stay tonight Jack, please… not to have sex, but I want you here" it was all you could offer him and it was already a big deal, the two of you knew it and he only nodded happily, his hand caressing your skin.

"I'll stay for as long as you want me sugar…"

                            •••

In the early morning, you woke up to find yourself alone in bed. Jack took his southern manners to the letter and after you fell asleep in his arms, he changed to the couch, so he wouldn't make you uncomfortable. You sighed as your head pounded after drinking so hard the night before, sighing as you remembered everything that went on. The things you shouldn't have done, for example flirt with your ex the whole time, kiss him and wearing his hat and especially ask him to stay the night, because now you'd have to deal with the fact the man was humming happily in your kitchen making you breakfast as a loving husband would. 

You got out of bed and groaned in pain once more, cursing under your breath as you spotted a glass of water and an aspirin. Fuck, Jack was making it very hard for you to hate him. 

The man, on the other hand, was pouring his heart into the meal he was preparing. There were two things little Jack Daniela learned from his mama: breakfast was the most important meal of the day and that the best ingredient one could add is love.

The moment he saw you walking inside the kitchen, his face lit up, glad to know Wyatt was still deeply asleep, so he would have some time alone with you. He placed the frying pan down, flipping the last pancake and walked to you. 

"Morning, sugar" he said in a happy voice as he got closer and leaned in to kiss your lips, but you immediately turned your face away, avoiding his kiss as you looked down. 

"Listen Jack, we need to talk… I'm sorry about last night, I know I led you the wrong way, I flirted and kissed but it was wrong and it shouldn't have happened" you said without much conviction in your voice, as if you were trying to convince yourself more than him, so you cleared your throat and continued "we can't be together, I know you're trying, Jack, you're becoming a better man, but I have a boyfriend now and you will always be the man who abandoned me and our son" you sighed sadly "I was just giving into my desires…"

Jack immediately gripped your hips, pulling you closer, a desperate look on his face, he was hurt and you could see it in his eyes 

"Desire, that's the right word, sugar. You desire me, you want me, why do you still deny it? We love each other" he said, stroking your cheek, swallowing hard and giving you the saddest eyes you'd ever seen. "We can be a happy family… you, me, our son and if you want to we can even try for a little girl, I promise I'll be around, I want to be a husband to you and a father to our son…"

"You're out of your mind, Jack, I would never be with you again, I would never be crazy to let you get me pregnant again! You made me go away! You told me to get rid of my son! I've fallen for you once, but I won't anymore. Yes, I had desire for you, because you are the kind of guy that's good for a drunk fuck and nothing else, Jack. I had to learn the hard way guys like you are meant to be fucked and guys like Frankie are meant to be married"

Jack immediately let go of your body, looking down in shame and sniffed, nodding and turning his back to you. Jack's pride was hurt, and his heart was shattered. He knew you would take your distance once you sobered up, but he didn't think you would regress so much. You were back at fighting and accusing each other, and he was tired of that. 

"Mama! Dada!" Wyatt squealed happily as he watched his mommy and daddy in the kitchen, his small tummy growling with hunger at the delicious smell. 

"Dada, you made pancakes for me? Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He squealed adorably and jumped into Jack's arms, who held his son tight against his chest, snuggling him, and pecked his son's cheek gently, you knew Jack was a fearless man when he was on his missions, but now, he avoided staring at you, so you wouldn't see the tears that threatened to spill out of his beautiful chocolate brown eyes. 

You didn't even know why you'd said that, but you needed to make sure Jack would keep his hands to himself, you didn't want to be a fool for the second time and he had no right to try and seduce you with a baby talk. Jack wasn't meant to be a father and you'd been nice enough to let him be around Wyatt. On the other hand, you had never thought of marrying Frankie, that made no sense, all you knew was that you wanted to hurt Jack and it seemed like you achieved your goal.

_____

A/N: How dare reader say those things to Jack??? Why can't they be together already 😭😭😭😭

[itsnotzka]

Fancy reading my original story? ;)

Without revealing too much, it's a very character-driven, slow-burn(ish), bitter-sweet romance story centered around self-discovery, with music and movies playing a significant role in the background :)

If you want to give it a go, you can read The Higher We Soar here (I'm currently sharing it on Wattpad, as I, unfortunately, haven't found a better alternative...). The first three chapters are already published (and it always will be free :))

You can also read the prologue below ⬇︎

You should never expect too much from Tuesdays. They're like the middle children of the week—less demanding than Mondays, less depressing than Wednesdays, but definitely not as fun as Fridays. Tuesdays quietly go about their business, neither imposing nor exhilarating.

As usual, I didn't have high hopes for that particular Tuesday either. It was one of those days that seemed to slip from memory almost as soon as it happened, no matter how much I wracked my brain to recall it.

The weather? If someone had told me there was the worst snowstorm of the century on that day, I would have readily accepted their claim without a single question. If I had read somewhere that it was the hottest day of the year, I would have simply nodded in agreement. I couldn't even tell you whether I decided to take a bus, a tram, or maybe I just, quite merrily, took a walk to the studio.

All those details somehow simply left my mind, overshadowed by one seemingly insignificant, and quite short encounter. Nothing remained the same after that fateful, yet somehow very ordinary, casual Tuesday morning.

Like a clueless fool, I failed to sense the impending, monumental shift in my life—a weird, terrifying, passionate avalanche that, in retrospect, seemed glaringly obvious and impossible to miss from the beginning, no matter how hard you might try... Yet, I did.

Before I delve further, you should know that I've never really liked interns.

It's not a sentiment I'm particularly proud of, as I despise prejudice in any form. My dislike isn't rooted in any of my antisocial tendencies; in fact, I generally find it quite easy to connect with people, especially in the music industry. 

But I never really liked interns.

Their enthusiasm often comes across as superficial, and I can't stand it when they ask what to do, only to neglect the tasks I give them. I don't don't like when they think they have it all, believing they are more knowledgeable than anyone else around the studio, despite never having composed a single piece of music in their lives. I don't like how, before I can even properly learn their names or discover their strengths, they vanish without a trace, leaving behind a mess of equipment they weren't supposed to touch in the first place.

I also don't like when interns assume I'm just one of them.

It's a frustrating realization, mainly because, begrudgingly, they have the right to do that. After all, most of them are just a tad younger than me. Who could blame them?

That seemed to be the case with most interns. Except for one notable exception.

It didn't take long for me to notice that one individual stood out from the rest of the pack. Slightly older than the typical interns we usually had, he possessed a remarkable ability to effortlessly connect with people of all ages and ranks—spanning from the youngest staff members to seasoned audio engineers and even the senior employees of our cleaning crew. He had this certain level of cheerfulness and genuine interest that set him apart, a stark contrast to the usual ennui seen among interns I knew.

Right. First things first, though.

The scene: Early spring. A typical Tuesday morning just a little past ten o'clock.

I found myself in the live room, brimming with anticipation to finally record the first version of my demo, or at least my initial idea for one. But as luck would have it, nothing seemed to align with my plans. True to form, the interns had left a chaotic mess in their wake, leaving me with the arduous task of tidying up before I could even begin to think about diving into my creative process.

I let out a sigh of frustration, futilely rummaging through the clutter in search of a balanced cable before all my inspiration gone to waste. And that's precisely when the blonde intern came into the room, flashing his straight, pearly white teeth at me.

"Oh, hey. Hand me that boom stand, eh?" I gestured towards the stand, hoping to deal the cleanup process faster.

Weirdly enough, he sauntered over to me joyfully, yet his hands were conspicuously empty. It took a few moments for the realization to dawn on me, and when I turned my head to him, there he was, meeting my gaze with a cheerful twinkle in his light brown eyes, smiling at me with the sincerity of a five-year-old child.

"Hello? The boom stand, please?" I reiterated, juggling a handful of cables, none of them the balanced one I desperately needed, and gesturing towards the frustratingly out-of-reach metal stand.

"Oh, you're talking about this thing!" he exclaimed, as if my words had just registered. With a sudden burst of energy, he hastily retrieved the boom stand and brought it over to me. "Here you go."

I shot him a skeptical look as he nonchalantly slipped his hands into the pockets of his well-worn cardigan—a piece of clothing that might have been deemed unwearable by most, yet it somehow suited him perfectly. In an oddly charming way, it emitted a subtle bohemian vibe, and I couldn't help but imagine it gracing the runway of some avant-garde fashion show, although my knowledge of fashion was rather limited.

"Do you want to tell me you didn't know what a boom stand is?" I dared to ask, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Yeah, sorry..." he prudishly feigned embarrassment, though it was evident that he didn't feel particularly bad about it. "I had no clue what you were talking about."

I eyed him inquisitively, suspecting the worst but needing confirmation. "What about a shock mount? Can you pass me that, then?"

He tilted his head and subtly pursed his lips, as if I had switched to an entirely different, foreign language he couldn't comprehend. Utterly astonished, I pointed to the nearby, star-shaped object, and his eyes widened in realization.

"Oh... that's a shock mount? Well, I had no idea about that, either," he admitted, seemingly unfazed by his lack of knowledge, with no intention of handing me the item. In response, I spread my hands and cast him a puzzled, inquisitive look, to which he simply responded with another chuckle.

"Let me be honest with you, okay?" he shrugged once more, entirely at ease. "I know nothing about making music or any of this equipment..."

"Are you shitting me?" I blurted out, dropping the cables from my hands in sheer disbelief. "In that case, I have no idea why you're even here. How on earth did you manage to land this internship in a scoring studio?"

The smirk never left his lips, his eyes twinkling with joy, as if he wasn't even aware that I considered firing him during his very first week on the job. Well, I couldn't actually fire him. I could ask someone else to do it for me.

"What can I say?" he offered another smile, his eyes mirroring the same cheerfulness. Even his bohemian gray cardigan seemed uncharacteristically cheerful as he spoke. "I aced the job interview. Sophie, that gal who interviewed me, seemed to really like me. She was very sure I'd be a great fit here!"

"That gal?" I repeated with a scoff... and a smile. "You mean Sophie, the producer? One of the most important people around here? If not the most important one?"

He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The very same."

"Right. Sophie and her desire to change the whole world for the better..." I remarked, my tone laced with sarcasm that he simply chose to ignore.

There. My proof. 

That was the reason why I never really liked interns. He should have said something to make me believe he was taking it seriously, shouldn't he? He should have been embarrassed, he should have shown me his willingness to learn everything as quickly as possible, he should have tried to help me set everything up faster. But he didn't. Instead, he didn't take his eyes off me for a second, making me uncomfortable. It was as if looking at me like that was the most normal and ordinary thing in the world for him — as if it was our hundredth talk. No shyness. No awkwardness on his part. No guilt whatsoever.

"I don't know if I have time for your incompetence, then. I have things to do here, and they have to be done well," I finally stated, trying hard to maintain eye contact.

After all, I was supposed to be the more competent one, not him. Yet, inexplicably, I suddenly felt as though I were the intern, and he was the one showing me the ropes, not the other way around.

He hummed, faintly amused, as if I had cracked a half-hearted joke. "Come on... you only need to be more specific about what you want me to do. I can handle anything with clear instructions. I'm a very quick learner, you know?"

I found myself smiling as he began to lecture me on how to handle an intern like him. In fact, I burst into unexpected laughter—not at his expense, but because I couldn't believe his extraordinary gullibility.

No, gullibility was definitely not the right word. It was more like... certainty. An unwavering, absolute conviction that everything, always, would unfold just as he anticipated, with ease, enjoyment, and no difficulties whatsoever. There was no room for doubt. Moreover, it felt as if it wasn't because he wanted it to be that way, but because the universe, it seemed, had an uncanny knack for bending space and time just to make him smile.

"Let's see. Do you even know what I do here?" I asked, not with impatience anymore, but with genuine curiosity.

"Hey, I'm not that dense," he scoffed, then added a bit unsure, "You're a composer, right? Or am I mixing something up..."

I laughed and nodded in confirmation. His smile held a touch of embarrassment, a genuine one this time.

"You're not. I am a composer. So tell me one more thing, if you don't know anything about making music, why do you even want to work here?" I asked, finally bringing the shock mount closer and starting to set the microphone next to the piano.

He sighed, falling into deep thought for a brief moment before finally responding, "I think you're asking the wrong questions here. Why wouldn't I want to give it a try? It's fascinating. Besides, I'm a huge movie buff and you're making scores. I feel like I can rest my case here."

"Oh, yeah? Your love for movies? You think that's enough?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded, casually picking up the cables I dropped before, "Well, that would be more than enough if we were in an actual movie, wouldn't it?"

"Well, we're not, though," I chuckled, "We're not even in some poorly written novel. Life's quite different from the movies, especially if you know how they're made."

He hummed once more, a quiet laugh escaping his throat as he gave me another intrigued look.

"You think so? I think it all depends on your point of view..." he said with such conviction, as if everything really depended solely on that.

I shook my head in amusement and, unintentionally, found myself agreeing with him.

"Hey, I think I didn't catch your name before..." I said, a little troubled by the fact that despite Sophie repeating the names of all five interns for a week, I couldn't remember any of them.

"Oh, I'm Maddox. At your service!" he replied, his smile widening even further. "People usually call me Maddie, though."

"Really? Do they ever call you Madd?" I quipped. "Maybe that suits you better?"

A spark flickered in his eyes, then chuckled, "I've heard that one before... But sure. I can be Madd for you."

By then, I was laughing opelny, and I forgot about the mess around us.

It surprised me that he didn't ask for my name, and I decided not to give it away. I wasn't sure if he already knew it; he hadn't mentioned it even once that day. It seemed my name just... didn't matter to him back then. He struck me as someone very curious about the world and everything around him, yet for some reason, I didn't really seem to be one of those matters.

Like many things, it didn't bother me much, though.

After that Tuesday morning, marked by a string of mishaps that he effortlessly remedied with a perfect blend of enthusiasm, interest, and clever comments, a tad too clever for just an intern, we didn't teally talk for a few weeks.

Throughout the initial month of his three-month internship, our encounters were fleeting, lacking any real depth or substanc. Yet, I knew, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of each other's presence that hung in the air, like a perfectly fitting soundtrack playing in the background—barely noticeable, yet undeniably there.

I was busy with my projects that weren't going as well as I wanted them to. He, on the other hand, was busy surpassing almost all expectations, learning things at an astonishing pace, and effortlessly charming everyone he encountered. At least that's what I had heard from my co-workers, and from Sophie. He worked mainly under her, after all.

Every now and then though, I'd catch a glimpse of his eyes, squarely directed at me, particularly when I was on my way to the break room in search of my caffeine salvation. Sometimes, amidst the chaos of the studio, I'd hear his laughter, his rather melodic voice rising above the cacophony of others, as I struggled to maintain my focus on the stubborn music sheets in front of me. I quickly noticed he was quite the conversationalist, engaging in lively discussions with anyone willing to participate. Yet, our interactions rarely extended beyond a simple exchange of greetings, such as a casual 'hello' or 'how are you?'

That didn't bother me, either. Well, it didn't bother me at the beginning.

Everything always seems different at the beginning, doesn't it?

[as-is-above-so-below]

In the Middle of the Night (Jason Todd x OC)

Masterlist

Chapter 8, Chapter 10

story summary: Melanie Withers and Jason Todd do everything together - including but not limited to stealing tires off Gotham's famous vigilante. The newest additions to the Wayne family begin their journey, learning how to navigate their new family, life as vigilantes, adolescence, grief, and rebirth.

chapter summary: Happy New Year from the Batfamily! (and also, SURPRISE WALLY NAME DROP! AAAAAAA)

December 2012

Strong winds tugged at Redwing’s cape, the yellow fabric billowing behind her on her gargoyle perch. People littered the streets below under the soft glow of neon and street lights; they poured in and out of various bars and nightclubs, despite the frigid temperatures and quickly accumulating layers of snow. 

Nothing could keep the city of Gotham from a good time on New Year’s Eve.

She grabbed the hems near her midsection and clipped them together, securing them around her torso for warmth. Robin did the same on the next statue, tugging his hood over his wet hair. While cold fronts and heavy snow were typical for that time of year, the continued steady drop in bitter temperature over just a few hours wasn’t. She raised her gloved hand to her earpiece and tapped open her comms.

“Oracle?”

“Hi, Redwing! How are you this fine winter evening?”

“Cold. Unnaturally cold,” she grumbled, dusting the heavy flurries off her shoulders. “Could you pull up weather patterns and temperatures for the last ten years?”

Robin shifted from the balls of his feet to a seated position, his legs dangling below. He rested some of his weight onto his hands, pressed forward between his legs. “What’re ya thinkin’, Red?”

“I’m thinking that it was thirty degrees when we left the cave, and we’re about to drop into the negatives in the span of,” she turned back to look up at the clocktower behind them, “three hours.”

“Abnormal weather conditions don’t necessarily mean Victor’s involved.”

Batman crouched on his heels between them following his question, shrouded in his black cape. Like them, he had a winterized version of his suit on – the usual color scheme, but slightly bulkier with the extra layers and warming factor built in. The bat symbol at the center of his chest had more shine than his usual suit.

“I don’t know… I could be wrong, but this doesn’t feel right.”

“You have a good sense of climate, Redwing!” Oracle chimed back in. “The chill you’re feeling is way below normal. Gotham normally hangs in the thirty- to forty-degree range in December. And temps definitely don’t drop this fast.”

Batman hummed in affirmation, a proud smirk on his face. “Don’t ever doubt your instincts. Well done.”

“But why now? Freeze covered Gotham in ice in the middle of August before; he doesn’t need cold weather,” she wondered, looking to her father for ideas.

The bat tapped away at his gauntlet, pulling up the records from his last encounter with the man. “I found Victor so quickly before because it was the dead of summer. He could be using seasonality as camouflage.”

Oracle’s voice echoed in their ears again, “I’d be willing to bet he hoped we would be preoccupied with this evening’s festivities.”

A smart move on his end, considering they were just now noticing the weather fluctuation. 

“Assuming he built the same kind of devices, there were three units I had to track down before they reached their full potential. My analysis then estimated it would have taken five hours to freeze the city over.”

The winged duo nodded solemnly, meeting each other’s white eyes. “It’s already been at least three. We don’t have much time,” Robin pointed out, rising to his feet again.

“I could reach out to KF and see if he’s available to help?”

“No need! I think I have an idea where at least one will be.”

“Care to share with the class?” she asked. Her forehead wrinkled where her eyebrows were concealed under her mask.

The boy smirked as he pulled out his grapple gun, his arm hanging loosely by his side. “Freeze is the sentimental type, right? Do you still have his wife at the lab?”

“Yes.”

“What better place to attack Gotham from than the tallest building in the city?”

“You think he’s at Wayne Tower?” Redwing stood with him, readying her own line.

“I don’t think. I know.”

Her eyes rolled behind the white lenses of her mask. “Fascinating.”

“What, my charm? Dashing good looks? Searing intellect?”

She stepped forward so only her heels balanced on the beast’s nose. Her arches and toes hovered in the air. She tapped the muzzle of the tool against her chin with pursed lips as she pretended to think. “Your enormous ego,” she finally concluded, laughing wildly as his boyish grin morphed into a hurt expression as she tipped over, letting her body fall head-first into the neon lights below.

Redwing allowed herself to freefall for a few seconds before firing the grapple hook. It caught on a nearby water tower, launching her back towards the sky.

In the year since Bruce had adopted them, Melanie had learned that Dick was right about at least one thing.

There’s nothing like flying.

Her earpiece crackled to life again. “Ego?!” Robin cried, appalled, coming into view about forty feet to her left. “My ego is well-earned! I deserve an apology!”

“And how might I get back into your good graces, Boy Wonder?”

“It’ll be midnight soon. I think a New Year’s kiss is in order.”

“Who else would I kiss?”

“No PDA on duty.”

“Golly gee willickers, Batman.” He took a high-pitched voice, mocking the original Robin. “Don’t be a party pooper. You swat spit Catwoman in the field all the time!”

“I do not. Even if I did, it would be different.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Focus,” Batman snapped, the blue halo from the Wayne Enterprises logo coming into view. Lo and behold, a structure resembling a stocky cell tower sat on the roof, pumping a cold front into Gotham’s atmosphere. Nearby, a similar unit lit up the Foxteca building; in the distance, a third condenser at the Sporting Complex.

The group took refuge on a neighboring rooftop as Batman cataloged the force they were going up against. “I don’t see Victor’s heat signature,” he mumbled, making a mental note. “You two distract his henchmen. I’ll shut down the weather machine then we'll move on to the next. We have to be quick.”

“Yessir!”

With the plan set, the two birds took to Wayne Enterprises, scaling the side farthest from the equipment. While they would work on the goons, Batman would sneak up the back to access the interface. Two loud cackles drew the attention of the dozen or so men to the teens; Robin traipsed the curbed edge like a tightrope while Redwing juggled R-shaped shurikens atop an exhaust vent.

“So,” Robin started. He spun on one foot to turn back around and go back the way he came. “You all have two options. You can surrender peacefully, and we leave you for the GCPD. Or, we can kick your butts, and you’re arrested anyway. Your call!”

Despite his generous offer, Regulator brutes charged them, a few hanging back while their gauntlets whirred to life.

Robin sighed dramatically, hopping down from the ledge. “They just never learn, do they, Wing?”

“They don’t, Rob. They really don’t.” She snatched one of the sharp weapons out of the air on its downward arch and directed it into the muzzle of a rifle. The gun backfired, causing its holder to reel from the bright flash of heat.

As Robin sprinted forward, Redwing jumped from the vent onto her partner’s locked and ready hands, propelling her into the air in their enemies’ direction. She swiftly moved between enemies, sometimes kicking some in Robin’s direction for an assist. She prioritized enemies with guns first, wanting them disarmed and out of the way quickly. Despite the freezing air, Redwing still felt a layer of sweat forming underneath her thermal layer from the effort of the fight. 

Bullets pinged off the concrete and metal structures around them as they dodged and weaved through their trajectories; the sharp, tangy smoke almost overwhelmed her senses.

As the number of active targets dwindled, Redwing felt a hot muzzle press against the back of her skull; she immediately pivoted, barely knocking it away for the bullet to miss. “Oof, that was a close one!” she laughed, ripping the rifle out of the man’s hands. “Almost got me there!”

While she was quick to knock him unconscious with the butt of his gun, she wasn’t fast enough to avoid the massive hand that wrapped around her bicep and yanked, sending her skidding across the roof. Her shoulder audibly popped, and she groaned at the sound and sudden shooting pain down her arm.

As she tried to her shoulder it back in, the last lackey loomed over her. Allowing herself to get grabbed was a big mistake that allowed her opponent to hold all of the power, especially now that one of her limbs was out of commission. She could fight with what she had, but adjusting to the ache wasted precious time that she did not have.

At least, until a sticky pellet thudded against the Regulator’s gauntlet and activated, volts of electricity arcing through his arm to the ground. He stumbled back, leaving Robin open to slide underneath his grip and forcing him to topple by tripping his feet.

“You heard her, man! It’s not her time.” He, too, fell unconscious when the black-haired boy was finished with him.

“You good?”

She nodded, gripping her bicep with her opposite hand to brace it to her side.

“You were tellin’ us about being quick?! What the hell, B? What’s taking so long?” Robin pressed, helping Redwing up while nursing his own bruises at his side. 

“These condensers are different,” Batman grunted as he typed at the machine’s terminal. “We have to shut them off at the same time. We’re going to have to split up.”

“You can’t figure out how to disarm them manually?”

“No. That will take hours, which we don’t have.”

He stepped away from his task to inspect Redwing’s limp limb, pressed against her side. The girl hissed as he tried to twinge it with barely any pressure, jerking away from his touch. Robin certainly had a busted lip and a few bruises of his own.

“It’s dislocated.”

“Batman, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. I’m calling the Batmobile to take you back to the cave–”

“We need three people to turn these off,” Redwing cut him off, turning her shoulder to her partner. “Robin?”

He sighed deeply, gingerly looping his fingers around her wrist and bracing her back. “Alright–”

“Robin, don’t you dare–”

POP!

“GAH–” Redwing took a deep breath before letting out a whoosh of air. “See? All good!” She turned momentarily as if to look around, hiding the pained expression on her face. “Christ on a cracker, that hurt.”

Batman was pinching the bridge of his nose over his cowl, his head bowed and shaking. “Nightwing’s supposed to be my problem child, not you two.” He took her arm and tested her mobility, moving and rotating the appendage in all directions. When he was begrudgingly satisfied, Batman sighed again. “Fine, but you’re staying here. Robin, you go to Foxteca; plug this into the terminal before I give the signal. I’ll cover the arena.”

Robin took the flash drive from their father and tucked it into his utility belt. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, brushing a spot of blood off her cheek with his thumb.

She smiled warmly and shrugged. “I think I can handle pressing a button. I’ll be fine. Besides, you owe me a kiss.”

“Me?! No, no, no, you’re supposed to kiss me–”

“If I have to tell you two to focus again, you’re suspended for a week.”

Batman wasn’t one to make threats lightly, and neither Redwing nor Robin wanted to find out how strict the man was feeling. Redwing laughed and shoved him away before heading over to her station.

It took Batman and Robin some time to get to their respective locations. Long enough for the eerie silence to make the hair on the back of her neck stand. Nothing but the cold wind gusts and mechanical buzzing in her ears. 

Something was missing…

“Batman, Robin. Do either of you have eyes on Mr. Freeze?” she questioned, taking cautious steps toward the middle of the skyscraper’s roof.

“Negative.”

“No, why?”

The air shifted, setting off alarms in her mind. Redwing dove forward just in time to not get crushed by a giant mecha suit’s fist. She rolled easily and sprang to her feet, finding herself face-to-face with the man himself. The temperature dropped noticeably around the icy metal, the vapor from her breath thicker and more visible than before.

“Ah, the Girl Wonder. I was expecting Batman.”

Victor Fries played into his villain persona well. His voice didn’t just have a cold tone; the vibrato sent actual chills down her already taut spine.

“Sorry to disappoint, Victor,” she replied, readying her fighting stance. “I guess he just didn’t think you were much of a threat.”

Her opponent chuckled darkly, his heavy steps clunking on concrete as he closed in on her. “She thinks she’s Batman,” he growled. “How quaint.”

Redwing slid under his downward swing, sprinting back toward the weather machine at the now far corner. Freeze just caught the corner of her cape, which she immediately released as soon as she felt the familiar tug. Out of his reach again, she tapped her comms back on. “Speak of the devil!”

“He’s there? I’m coming back to you–”

“There isn’t time!” the girl interrupted, narrowly sidestepping an ice ray. The ends of her hair had long since gathered an icy sheen from the wet air and subzero temperatures. “We have to do this now!”

Her evasive skills would be the hot ticket item for their next team meeting, considering how often Redwing was snatched up during this encounter.

Freeze seized her by the back of her neck, stopping her in her tracks and lifting her off the ground without effort. She scrambled for one of the pouches on her belt, only for it to be torn away and slammed into the ground. “I don’t think so, little bird,” Freeze snarled and pulled her face forward, stopping just short of smashing the protective barrier around his head. Redwing was forced to ignore the chattering in her ear, focused only on steadying her breathing and figuring a way to do her part and shut down the terminal behind Freeze. The man adjusted his grip, now keeping her suspended from the front.

“Why…are you…doing this?” she choked out, slowly slipping her hand over her stomach, then her breastplate…

“Batman and Mr. Wayne took my Nora from me,” he shared as if it was obvious. His corpse-like, blue skin was infinitely more horrifying up close. “I intend to retrieve what is mine and leave this wretched city a tundra when I’m done with it!”

“Redwing, now!”

“She’s not…your…property.” Finally, she pressed the ‘R’ on her chest, dispensing another golden shuriken, and, with a year’s worth of practice and great skill, hurled the star at the red switch.

Flip

“No!”

The cold front spewing into the night sky immediately started to narrow until it dwindled into nothing, the various gears and pieces slowing to a stop. She assumed, in the distance, the other machines and beams had similar reactions. Already the heavy, white storm turned into soft flurries, more representative of a New Jersey winter.

The plan had worked.

“Red, hold on! I’m coming!”

“No!” Victor roared again, charging to his creation, only to find a black screen. The drives permanently disabled the software once it was shut down, making it inaccessible. Forever. “You insignificant little witch! You’ll pay for this!” 

And suddenly, the bruising pressure was gone, and she was flying again.

And flying.

And flying.

Then falling.

Her ice-tipped hair bit and stung her face as she slapped at her hip, gloves meeting her suit helplessly with wide eyes.

He took her belt; her grapple–

And no cape. She’d ditched it, effectively clipping her own wings.

She wanted to scream and call out for Robin or Batman, but the panic and violent terror gagged her as she plummeted toward the empty city street. Would her father be the one to retrieve her broken, bloody body, or her brother?

Not Jay, anyone but Jay…

Jason

Jason

Jason

A body slammed into hers with a grunted Oof, knocking her path to the snow-covered pavement off course. It was like colliding with a brick wall. Her body jerked from being caught at the waist before being enveloped in a tight hold and turned in the air, nose pressed against a firm chest; she smelled musky sweat, gunpowder, and the lingering twinge of mint toothpaste. 

They soared for about two seconds before their trajectory arched back to the ground. When they finally hit solid ground, the other person hit first, cushioning her landing, before they tumbled down the street. When they slowed to a stop several feet from the initial impact, the cage around her loosened, and her loose body flopped face down into the crisp snowfall.

“Red! Red, hey!”

Redwing let out a low groan as she was flipped on her back and shaken, eyes squeezed shut. “Am I dead?”

Robin was visibly relieved both at her consciousness and her ability to speak. “Nah, you can’t die just yet. It’s 12:06.”

January 2013

Jason.

Kevlar hands delicately cradled the sides of her neck before frosty, wet lips pressed into her rosy cheek. The sentiment continued across her face – on her forehead, nose, the corner of her lips. Some barely touched her flesh, overlapping with the edges of her mask or hair. Each word he spoke was punctuated with a loud peck.

“I - love - you - so - much.”

Redwing mustered the strength to softly tap his cheek with two soft pats. “Love you t-too. Good…save…” she wheezed, arm dropping back down and displacing some white fluff back into the air. If the fact that her whole body already hurt was any indicator, she was in for a world of hurt over the next few days. 

Robin allowed her a moment to gather herself before slipping his hands under her shoulders and forcing her to sit up. He moved to one knee, some joints cracking and popping at the effort, and wedged his arms under hers until the crooks of his elbows settled in her armpits.

“C’mon,” he ordered, rising to his full height, hoisting Redwing to her feet. He slung her good arm over his shoulder, adjusting until he found a comfortable position. “You have to get back to the Cave. The Batmobile’s right here.”

Immediately, her heels dug into the road. “Wait, Freeze–”

“B has it handled. You’re in no shape to fight. You need to go.”

“Mmm’kay…”

For once, she complied with his orders, feet dragging as he mostly carried her to the car. The driver’s door opened for them, and Robin took the utmost care in lowering his other half into the seat before swinging her legs in.

“Happy New Year, Rob.”

“Happy New Year, Red.”

.

.

.

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[helianskies]

Alter Ego

Detectives Beilschmidt and Kirkland in the Homicide department have their work cut out for them when a body appears. With no real leads or clues, it's only a matter of time before the numbers increase and the case starts to get out of hand. But with it, so do their lives and the city around them. No one—nothing—is safe. Not until the killer is caught.

But at what cost will the denouement come?

[ full fic on ao3; cheeky snippet below! ]

rating: explicit ⠀ chapters: 44/44

Friday 13th March. 23:46pm.

Sleeping alone always felt a little strange. Gilbert supposed he had gotten used to it here and there, just as he had gotten used to falling asleep with someone there and waking up to cold sheets, or falling asleep on his own and waking up to cosy, domestic warmth. Gilbert had never thought that he'd come to like such a warmth when he was younger. Now, at twenty-nine years old, he relished in the moments when there were two of them.

He and Antonio had to do this odd dance of sleeping and waking often. Antonio was a paramedic—an Advanced Emergency Medical Technician, he had said with pride when he passed the qualification a year prior—and received a whole variety of shifts that could fall at any time of day. The things he saw in the span of a ten-hour shift were horrific. It was amazing how he was always so cheerful. But Gilbert worked for the Homicide Department in the city police force, so he supposed he didn't often see much better. What a thing to compare, how many dead people did you see today? No thanks.

It was work, nonetheless, that had woken him. His phone buzzed on the bedside table with a name on the display that was growing more and more familiar, stirring him from his light sleep. The screen also told him it was still Friday. Once upon a time, he’d be out on a Friday night, not trying to get to sleep... Gilbert answered the call and was met by the stern, astute voice of his superior, his boss: good old Basch.

"What time do you call this, boss?" Gilbert joked with a light heart as he got up from bed and prepared to throw back on the clothes he had recently discarded.

Basch was much less amused, but Gilbert wasn't surprised. "I call it midnight. And you're needed," came the reply. That only meant one thing, and it was never good news for anyone—even if it was what Gilbert was paid to do. "A body has been found. Anna's here already. I've sent the location to your phone so I expect to see you promptly."

"Roger that," Gilbert said. "Is Kirkland coming, too?"

"I am yet to call him, but you're currently blocking the line, Beilschmidt."

"Ah."

The Prussian (only on his mother's side) apologised with only a small degree of sincerity and promptly hung up the call. It would be a bad idea to annoy Basch before he even got to the crime scene. He dreaded to think of the face he'd have slapped on him when he showed up. God, it wasn't even a new day and he was already done with people…

As he stumbled around and tried to distinguish trouser from jacket from t-shirt (harder than it sounded, he soon found out), Gilbert wondered what the scene would actually look like and how serious this call-out was. He had only been part of Homicide for a few months, and the department itself was a notably small one, with only four permanent detectives and Anna, who worked in forensics, essentially having to babysit them all each day. Not that she seemed to mind. She was used to dealing with kids.

But, even so, they were lucky that the city didn’t often require them for big cases. At that moment in time, half of the permanent team was already busy in clearing up some of the cold cases, the unsolved killings that had been lying in dust-smothered boxes in the old archive room… That was the reason he had been called, he supposed. The other team was busy deciphering twenty-year-old reports, and he was being summoned from the cosy, warm confines of his bed.

No one had said this job was going to be easy.

When he eventually got to the car and turned it on, the screen inside lit up with an angry orange hue and screamed at him: 23:58pm. 13.03.2020. Friday the 13th. What an unfortunate date. Certainly unlucky for someone… But Gilbert entered the address sent to him by Basch into the navigation system and wasted no time in setting off, quietly pulling out of the communal parking lot of his apartment complex and onto the main road.

[ continue reading on ao3! ]

[donnywhy]

My fortieth is right around the corner and this one requires attention. I've been a living breathing thinking being for just about thirty years (I don't count the first ten years) and I'm staring down the maw of the latter thirty years of solid cognitive function. Forty is a demarcation line. I'm no longer growing away from birth, growing into something. Rather, I'm on the down swing, inching toward oblivion.

I took a walk through the greenbelt toward downtown today. No music. Just the sound of my footsteps. Forty, what does it mean for me? I stared at the patterns of light and shadow on the ground cast down from the trees. No answers came. The sun was beating down on the back of my neck. I stopped at Barton Springs to rest and observed the people swimming in the pool. I thought it'd be nice to try to swim in the spring for once.

I eventually got up and started toward downtown again. There were throngs of people walking toward the music festival. Tens of thousands. Walking in one direction. I was the only soul walking away from the event. I got that feeling that I get once in a while that these people aren't real. Just facimiles bound up in water and blood and flesh. Is this a decent existence? Are these decent thoughts? I crossed the bridge spanning the lake and the water was brilliant from the sun. I could see the plants underwater and turtles and fish living in this paradise under a sparkling canopy of rippling water.

I didn't have a purpose for going downtown. I just move in a direction and figure it out as I go. Maybe a random event will happen. Maybe nothing will happen. I just plod into the randomness that each day offers. If I knock out some chapters of the book I'm reading I'll consider it a good day but outside of that, who knows.

I got a a plate of bbq for lunch and ate it at a small table. The guy behind the counter was going to throw away a bunch of brisket that went dry so I asked him to wrap it up so I could give it to a person on the street. I saw a man with a walker limping along on the sidewalk. His hair disheveled and clothes too big for him hanging off his unwashed body. I asked if he liked bbq and when he nodded I placed the box on his walker and kept walking. Was he real? Just a facimile? Was he a premonition of what my end point will look like? Is this a decent existence? Are these decent thoughts?

I went to the library. It's my favorite place to conk out and let my mind unravel. The air conditioning cooled my skin. I half heartedly browsed the manga, looking for new arrivals or the first chapter of Blade of Immortal which, after years of searching, I am convinced does not exist in this library. I felt someone's gaze on me. I turned my head to the side and a woman in a chair with a book in her hand was looking in my direction. Her eyes darted away. I walked over to my favorite hidden spot and killed a few chapters of the book I'm reading.

The walk back felt longer. Physical stamina depleted. My mind focused on my sore feat and a slightly sunburned neck. My little dance with the randomness of a day on planet earth concluded. I collected valuable research that will help to parse the idea of entering the latter half of my life; the patterns of light and shadow on the trail, cutting through a crowd of human facimiles, the fish swimming beneath the shimmering surface of the lake, the old man using the walker, the feeling of another human being's eyes on me. Recognizing life in the mundane.

[beels-burger-babe]

Hi! I saw that requests are open, if it's not a problem could i request Satan reacting to MC coming to him with new books every time they hang out because they want him to read them out loud since they have a short attention span? Like, Satan would be reading said book while MC is drawing or doing something else.

I have adhd and reading books that are not digital is a nightmare for me, so him reading out loud would be pretty relaxing.

Btw it's up to you if you wanna do headcanons or a oneshot!

ABSOLUTELY!!! So this is actually my first request and I'm super excited because as someone who also has ADHD I can totally relate! I hope you like it!

Too Still, Too Quiet

GN!MC with ADHD Summary: Satan notices that MC seems to have a hard time hanging out with him; he's determined to get to the bottom of the issue and find a solution.

After living in the House of Lamentation for nearly a year, you've grown accustomed to the many quirks that came with living with the seven Lords of the Devildom. You had gotten close to the brothers, and as they picked up on your symptoms for your ADHD, they each found their own ways of being helpful. Lucifer had always known, as it was written on your file, and made a point of sending you subtle reminders throughout the day to keep you organized and on task. He brushed it off saying that it merely prevented him from having to go after you later on if you forgot or did something incorrectly.  Mammon was no stranger to having a hard time prioritizing and staying focused and took pride in lending you some of the different tools he used to fidget with. After all, his human deserved the best, and you couldn’t get any better than using something that belonged to the great Mammon. Leviathan’s room provided a relaxing atmosphere with just enough stimulation to keep your brain satisfied enough to focus on your school work and tasks. The sounds of the aquarium provided a fantastic back ground noise, and Levi always took caution in wearing his headphones when he gamed if you were working in his room to not add to the distractions around you.  Asmodeus had a good eye for when you were growing too frustrated by the regular chaos that tended to fill the House of Lamentation and would pull you aside to his room for some self-care to help calm you down. There was nothing like a head message and face mask from Asmo as he happily gossiped about the latest drama in The Fall to help ground you.  Beelzebub, on the other hand, was great at noticing when you were starting to grow restless. In those moments, he’d not-so-subtly state that he was heading to the gym and it’d sure be nice if he had someone to join in before very obviously making eye contact with you. At first you had a hard time figuring out a good balance between a work out that satisfied Beel while also not killing you. But now the two of you easily worked with each other until you were both sweating, smiling, and happy. He also made sure to remind you to eat through out the day whenever you went to a round of hyper-fixation on something. Belphegore wasn’t particularly helpful when it came to your forgetful spells or disorganization as, being the Avatar of Sloth, he would normally encourage such behavior. Instead, he did what he did best, and helped put your wandering mind to ease whenever you were trying to sleep.  The only person, and not for a lack of trying, that you just couldn’t seem to find a flow with was Satan. 

He was too quiet and organized for you to be able to stand being around him for long periods of time. You had tried hanging out with him a couple of times, but after a few minutes of him silently reading or him explaining whichever text he was currently studying, you would grow restless and distracted.  Which brought you to your current situation.  Satan had invited you to come relax in his room with him, as the rest of his brothers were dealing with the aftermath of their most recent dilemma. It wasn’t so bad at first, some light conversation here, some banter there, but soon your mind started to wander off to the spines of the endless books around you as you pondered on what might be inside them.  “MC?”  Your attention snapped back onto Satan, who stood frowning at you. You blushed and scratched the back of your neck. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got a little distracted. What were you saying?”  Satan sighed as his frown deepened.  “I’ve noticed that tends to happen a lot with you. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He quickly amended raising his hands in defense. “But it seems particularly bad when you’re with me. You get quite jittery and I don’t think you’ve ever stayed in my room longer than ten minutes,” for a second his eyes almost looked sad as he looked over at you, “Is it something I’m doing? Do I make you uncomfortable?”  “No! Satan, no, it’s not you I promise!” You quickly reassured moving closer to him. “It’s just well I have a hard time staying still and focusing on things and when it gets too quiet it bothers me because then my brain is like hyper fixating on the smallest noises in the room, even though I’m supposed to be focusing on what you’re saying or my work, and it’s like, is that a page a turning or a something scratching at the door and then I start wondering about what kind of things could be in here and-”  “MC.” Satan cut off, though he didn’t seem annoyed. In fact, his eyes now gleamed with a sense of understanding. “Do you happen to have ADHD?”  “Yeah, I thought you all knew? Lucifer told all of you when I arrived right? That’s why everyone is so-” you moved your hand in a vague gesture that even you weren’t entirely sure what it was meant to symbolize.  Satan huffed and shook his head. “Lucifer did no such thing. I imagine he would’ve told us if it came to be a big enough problem. But you know him. He takes pride in being the only one to know certain things. “  You frowned and tilted your head in confusion. “But then what about the others? They’ve all been helping me out for months now.”  Satan placed a hand under his chin in thought, “They most likely took note of individual symptoms and decided to help. Belphegore, and possibly even Leviathan and Asmodeus may have put two and two together, but the rest probably think you’re just forgetful or that you’re restless,” he smiled reassuringly at you, “but that’s besides the point. Now that I know, I can help make you feel more at ease when you’re with me. What’s the main issue that you-” “It’s too quiet!” You quickly cut off, causing Satan to raise an eyebrow. “When we’re in here relaxing and you’re just reading and I’m supposed to be reading too, it’s too quiet. I try to focus on the book, but my mind keeps jumping around to other things. And I want to read all those books you’ve recommended to me, I really do, but I start feeling bored after a little while and next thing I know I jumping sentences without noticing and then I’ve gone an entire chapter with no recollection of what I’ve just read because I wasn’t really paying attention to the words at all I was just flipping pages without realizing it, so I have to go back and re-read the whole thing all over again!” You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “Is exhausting and makes me feel dumb, so I get up and do something else instead.”  Satan nodded, taking in every word carefully. “Well first of all,” you yelped as he flicked your forehead.  “Ouch! What was that for?!”  The demon smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “For calling yourself dumb. Just because you have more difficulty with literature than others, does not mean you’re dumb. You simply require a different reading strategy than what most consider “usual”, and I believe I have a solution that would suit both of us,” you perked up at his words. “I recommended those books to you because I greatly enjoyed them myself. How about, when you’re here, you can choose a book you want to read, and I will read it out loud for you? That should help, yes?”  A light airy warmth filled your chest at just how accommodating Satan was willing to be. “But what about the books that you were reading?”  The demon shrugged, “I can always read them in my spare time.” He moved closer to take your hands into his, silently demanding your full attention. “I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I want you to be comfortable and be able to be yourself when you’re around me without feeling stressed. This is honestly the least I could do for you, MC.”  Blushed rushed to your cheeks as you felt your heart flutter in your chest. You awkwardly cleared your throat and took your hands back, rubbing them on your legs as you noted how clammy they were. “I think I-I would like that a lot” The grin on Satan’s face widened as he took one of your hands and lead you deeper into the bookshelves of his room. “Splendid! Then why don’t we get try right away? Take you pick, MC, I will be your narrator for the evening and for as long as you wish.”  ***** I hope this was something along the lines of what you were looking for! It is a little short, but I hope you like it. Thank you so much for the request, I loved it! Requests are OPEN and I would definitely love to complete some more if anyone has any ideas or prompts that they’d like me to complete. Just send in an ask and, if I feel comfortable with it, I’ll do my best to make a fic for it!

[middleearthpixie]

Playing With Fire ~ Chapter Twenty

Dunraven Pub - Modern AU

A/N: A bonus chapter today because when I was revising Chapter Nineteen, I realized it was a monster of a chapter and so broke it into two. Enjoy!

Summary: Thorin Durin likes his life just the way it is—his pub is successful, he’s happily playing the field when it comes to women. He wouldn’t change a damn thing about it. At least, not until he meets Leda Andrews, who stops to help him when his car dies on the side of the road.

Leda is new in town, and late for a job interview when she stops to help a guy with his broken down old car. The last thing she expected was for him to be the same guy who owns the pub where she’s applied to be a bartender, never mind to be one of the hottest men she’s ever seen.  

Sparks fly, and while Leda’s got a few ground rules that Thorin is more than willing to abide by, neither one of them expected their fling to turn into anything more serious, or that they would be faced with a situation neither one is prepared for. So, what happens when a no-strings-attached affair teeters on becoming the real thing… 

Summary: Leda finally meets Thorin’s family, and it doesn’t quite go as well as either she or Thorin hoped it would…

Pairings:  Pairing: Modern!Thorin x OC Female

Characters:Thorin, Leda, Frerin, Toni, Moira, Holly (Moira’s friend) Dís, Kíli, and Fíli

Warnings: Angst lite

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,045

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @ggfamert @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

When she opened her eyes, Leda was alone in the queen-sized bed. The windows were cracked to let in a hint of frosty air, which made snuggling under the covers even cozier. Sunlight poured in through the panes in the French doors leading to the balcony, and she had no desire to move.

Besides, her stomach bubbled liked mad and she felt better if she lay perfectly still.

Perfectly…

… still—

“Oh, God!” She lurched from the bed, and made it to the bathroom just in time as her entire body revolted. For the next ten minutes, she did nothing but heave and sweat, until she was positive she’d been turned inside out and twisted into knots like a wrung-out towel. Her stomach still jumped. It kinked. It clenched. But thankfully, she wasn’t sick again. She sank back against the cool tile and pressed her cheek against it. She’d bought that What to Expect book and although she’d read up on morning sickness, she’d so hoped she’d be one of those lucky women who didn’t suffer from it, despite what Mary told her.

It was not meant to be.

Finally, when she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be sick any more, she dragged herself up to brush her teeth, then went back to crawl into bed once more. She didn’t want to move, but really had no choice. She was meeting Thorin’s family, which probably didn’t help her angry gut at all.

“I meant what I said last night. I’m not looking to meet your mom or dad or your brother or sister or their families. You’re not meeting mine.”

And yet, that’s exactly what she was doing in less than three hours. It was his nephew Fili’s twenty-first birthday and she had no idea what she’d been thinking when she agreed to go with him. Meeting his family. Almost entirely moved in with him. All that was left was marriage and death.

She scowled as her stomach lurched. Okay, maybe that was a bit much, but still… six months ago, she would have laughed in the face of anyone who suggested she’d find herself in this very situation. Besides, it was probably just nerves all around. She hadn’t expected so much change in so short a time span.

Her stomach calmed enough where she could move, so she rose and padded back into the bathroom to get the shower started. As she waited for the water to warm up, she dug out the scales, pulled her clothes off, took a deep breath, and stepped onto it. 

“What the fuck?” She glared at the readout. “Six pounds more? It was just four the other day. Where the fuck did these last two come from?”

She didn't know why she was surprised. This was the week she accepted that she couldn’t fasten her jeans anymore unless she used a rubber band. Only ten weeks in and she threw in the towel, began wearing leggings instead of Levi’s to work, all the while wondering if anyone noticed. She hoped not. They already busted her balls over dating Thorin, what would they do when they found out she was having a baby with him?

“Don’t think about that.” The shower hooks rattled as she moved the curtain to step into the warm spray. Hot water washed over her, washed away the last of her nausea as she lifted her face to it.

The curtain rattled again and she smiled as Thorin angled his big body in behind her. He slid his arms about her waist. “I thought I heard you moving around. How’re you feeling?”

“You’re safe. I’ve already barfed and brushed my teeth.” 

“You’re almost there, mesmel.”He gently squeezed her, then splayed his hands along her lower belly. She peered at him over one shoulder. Water already beaded across his shoulders, the steam made his wavy hair curl even more. He looked almost good enough eat. Damn hormones. All she wanted to do was fuck him. Not make love, like they suggested in movies, but fuck him like she’d done the night with the scarves. She wanted to throw him down on the nearest flat surface and ride his cock until they both screamed from the pleasure. And while she didn’t think he’d mind it, the fact that she might also throw up from the motion remained a very real fear and that he would definitely mind. 

“Can you feel anything?” She covered his hands with hers. “Because I feel huge. That lying scale said I’ve put on two more pounds.”

“It’s your mind playing tricks on you, love. And maybe I should hide the scale for the next six months,” he said, his fingertips brushing from hip to hip. Then, his smile widened and his hand went flat against her. “But… there is a small bump, amrâlimê.”

“What?”

He turned her toward him and then crouched so he was eye level with her stomach. “You’re starting to show already.” A hint of wonder crept into his voice, one that made her heart actually skip a beat.

“What? But… the book said most women don’t show this soon, that first babies take forever to pop.”

“You’re one of the lucky ones, mesmel.”

As he spoke, he looked up and the wonder she’d heard in his voice was matched by the same in those steel blue eyes eyes and it snatched the breath from her lungs and made her eyes sting. Stupid, fucking hormones!

“One of the lucky ones?” She curved her hand against his cheek, his beard softer from the water, but still on the scratchy side. “I don’t know I’d go that far."

“Yeah, one of the lucky ones. I think it’s beautiful.” With that, he brushed his lips over her lower stomach, then straightened up to loom over her. 

She looked down at her slightly rounded stomach. It was never perfectly flat, but now it definitely seemed rounder than usual. “I feel like an elephant.”

His arms tightened about her. “Well, you don’t look like one. You’re the same sexy biker chick you were when we met.” 

She gazed up at him. Water droplets clung like silver beads to the dark hair across his chest. “I know I sound like a whiny little needy bitch, but really?”

The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Really.” His hands slid down over her ass, cupping her cheeks to pull her closer. “I’d do you.”

“Funny.”

He winked, then bent to kiss her. It started out innocent enough, but not five minutes later, he lifted and lowered her easily as he thrust into her. And when he came, he took her with him, growling, “Leda…” as he did so.

She trembled in his arms, her head spinning. “Damn…”

“That’s right.” His laugh came soft against her ear as he set her down and reached for her shampoo. He lathered her hair, saying, “Tilt,” so he could rinse it and as warm, sudsy water sluiced along her ears, she thought she could be quite happy right there, just like that, forever. 

An hour later, they were pulling up in front of a dark gray Colonial in a tree-lined cul-de-sac. Thorin explained they’d be celebrating at his brother Frerin’s house, since Dís and her sons shared a townhouse that was short on both space and parking. As she stared over at the gray  house with the dark red shutters and dark red flowerpots on either side of the wide front porch, Leda swallowed hard as her stomach swiftly knotted once more. Although part of her did want to meet his family, the other part of her urged her to run like hell in the opposite direction and never look back.

Still, there she was, slipping her hand into Thorin’s, letting him steer her up the flagstone walk to the dark red front door, smiling as a tall woman with beautiful auburn hair said, “Oh, my God… do my eyes deceive me? Did you bring a girl, Thorin?”

“Funny.” Thorin tugged open the storm door with his free hand. As the woman stepped aside, he gave a gentle tug on Leda’s hand to urge her into the house as well. “Toni, this is Leda Andrews. Leda, my sister-in-law, Toni. Don’t let her give you the third degree.”

Leda smiled as Toni’s hazel eyes slid in her direction. They were friendly and warm, as was her voice when she said, “It’s very nice to meet you, Leda. That’s such a pretty name.”

“Thanks. My dad was a history nerd who convinced my mother to name me that. He told me it was the name of a Spartan queen, the mother of Helen of Troy and Clytemnestra. I think he had high hopes for me.”

Toni laughed as the door banged shut and she closed the inside one as well. “He put a lot of thought into it, as it’s very unusual.”

“Tell me about it. I could never find anything with my name on it when I was a kid.” She looked up at Thorin, who winked and she added, “Thorin’s talked about you and your family so much, I feel as if I already know you.”

“Well, the opposite is true for me. Here, let me take your coats,” Toni said, gesturing toward the sunken living room. “He’s been amazingly tightlipped about you. Come on in, and make yourself comfortable. What can I get you to drink?”

Leda shrugged out of her coat, which Thorin took, handing both his and hers to his sister-in-law. “Just water is fine, thank you.”

“Thorin?”

He offered up a long look. “Seriously?”

“Right.” Toni winked at him as she stowed their coats in front closet. “Show her it’s okay to sit, Thorin. I’ll go get your brother. Last I checked, he was playing chess with Flynn.”

With that, she disappeared into the kitchen, while Leda followed Thorin into the family room. “You haven’t even mentioned me?”

“I haven’t really had a chance to. I haven’t talked to Frer in a while because we both run like maniacs.” Thorin gestured to the dark brown velour sofa. “And I haven’t said anything about the baby, either.”

She settled into the comfortable cushions with a sigh. “It’s probably just as well. That will lead to a million and one other questions.”

“Exactly. And I don’t mind putting them off for a little while longer.”

“You and me, both.” 

“Thorin?” A tall man who looked like a slightly thinner, slightly shorter version of Thorin, only with much shorter hair, strolled into the family room. He held out a hand. “Oh, you must be Leda. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. I’m his brother, Frerin.”

A face to the name? She shot a look at Thorin, whose eyes were almost perfectly round as he stared at his brother and gave a subtle shake of his head. 

How did Frerin know her name, if Thorin hadn’t mentioned her to him?

A sour taste rose in her mouth. This was the brother who was a doctor. Had Thorin mentioned anything to him at all about her being pregnant? He just said he hadn’t mentioned the baby to anyone in his family.

Her stomach clenched but thankfully, she remained outwardly calm as she stood to shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Frerin. Like I said to your wife, Thorin’s told me so much about you, I feel like I already know you.”

Two girls came into the room. One had to be Thorin’s niece—she had the same dark hair and piercing blue eyes as both Thorin and his brother did. The other one was taller, with honey brown hair and she did a literal double-take when she saw Thorin. 

“Hey, Dad, can I go to the mall with Holly?” She looked over at them. “Hi, Uncle Thor.”

“Not now, Moira,” Frerin said. “Everyone else will be here soon.”

Moira rolled those pale blue eyes. “When isn’t everyone here?”

“You could try being polite, you know.” Frerin reminded her in a low voice. “Leda, I’d like to apologize for my daughter. Moira, this is Leda. She’s a friend of Uncle Thor’s.”

Although she still looked pouty, she nodded. “Hi, Leda.” She gestured to her friend. “This is Holly. Holly, this is Uncle Thor’s—ah—friend, Leda.”

While Holly greeted everyone, Moira stared balefully at her father. “So, I can’t go?”

“No, you can’t, but Holly is welcome to join us for dinner.”

Moira turned to Holly. “Want to stay?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

“Okay. Come on.” 

Moira turned back toward the staircase and as they left the room, Leda grinned as Holly muttered, “Damn, Moira, I forgot how fucking hot your uncle is.”

“Holly!”

“Well, he is. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Shut up.”

Thorin chuckled as Frerin mumbled, “Son of a bitch,” under his breath.

“Don’t worry about it.” Thorin draped his arm about her shoulders. “They’re fourteen. They think every guy over the age of eighteen is hot.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you’ve got kids of your own. And besides, you’re way over the age of eighteen. You and I are old guys compared to them.”

“Yeah, but I don’t look it,” Thorin replied without missing a beat. “Now, you, on the other hand…” 

Leda bit back a smile. If she didn’t know Thorin was the oldest of the three of them, she wouldn’t have guessed it on her own. True, there were those silver streaks in his dark hair, but Frerin had them as well, and from the looks of it, a lot more of them. Either way, Thorin did not look to be nearly forty on his worst day.

With a low sigh, Frerin moved to sink onto the arm of the sofa. “She’s growing up too fast. Has a boyfriend now and Toni found condoms in her sock drawer when she was putting away laundry last week. Fourteen years old, man.”

Leda shrugged, her hand resting on Thorin’s thigh. “Maybe they handed them out in school. I think they do that now during health class.”

“That’s what she said, but I don’t know… you see her friend… girls didn’t look like that that when I was fourteen.”

“You shouldn’t be looking at her at all, freak.” Thorin brought his left foot up to rest on his right knee. “I’m surprised Toni hasn’t kicked your ass.”

“Funny,” Frerin replied drolly, his expression grim as he went on, “They’re here all the time, man. Last summer, I had a dozen of them hanging out by the pool and Toni would lose her mind if Moira wore what those girls were wearing. Or not wearing… Flynn almost drove the tractor into the big oak near the woods because he wasn’t paying a damn bit of attention to where he was going.”

Leda sighed. “Boys stare no matter what.”

“Yeah, but still…”

Toni came into the room carrying a pint glass of dark stout and a glass of ice water. “Is Holly staying?”

“Yeah. Moira wanted to go to the mall, but I told her no.” Frerin took the beer from her to pass to Thorin. “It was my way of compromising.”

“I don’t like that girl.” Toni handed the water to Leda and sank into the matching armchair on the far side of the glass coffee table. “Since she met her, Moira only cares about two things: boys and makeup. And did he tell you what I found in her drawer?”

“Did you ask her where they came from?” Thorin brought the glass to his lips for a long drink.

“She said Health class, but she’s got a boyfriend now and I… I just don’t know what to think about it.” Toni tucked a lock of dark red hair behind her ear. “Do me a favor and don’t say anything to your sister. I don’t want her lecturing Moira in front of everyone, and we all know she’ll do just that.”

Thorin nodded. “My lips are sealed. Besides, once she sees Leda here, I’m pretty sure I’ll be her favorite target once more.”

Leda sipped her water as the conversation turned to Dís and her two boys, who were doing their best to follow in Thorin’s footsteps, apparently and their mother was at her wits’ end with the way they ran about and with the girls running with them. Leda had yet to meet either of Thorin’s nephews, as they only worked on their breaks from school, but if they were even a fraction as attractive and charming as the older generation of Durins, any girl in their sights was doomed.

Her gut twisted when she heard a car pull into the driveway and a moment later, a small, dark-haired woman, and two men, both about the same height, one blond, one dark, came into the living room.

“It’s about time,” Frerin said, pushing up from the sofa arm. “I thought you got lost.”

“I had to stay and talk to one of my professors,” the blond said, glancing over at them. “Uncle Thorin? Who’s this?”

Leda swallowed hard, willing her stomach to remain somewhat calm as Thorin stood and walked over to his nephews and clasped the blond’s hand. “Fíli, Happy Birthday. How does it feel to be legal?”

“Like I’m going to have to work more now that break is just about here. But,” Fíli smiled, “At least I can have a shot or two after work with you guys.”

“Only if you let your brother drive,” the small woman told him.

“After one shot, ‘amad? How much of a lightweight do you take me for?”

“It’s not worth the risk.”

Kíli chuckled. “Nice. You’ll be at my mercy for a change.” He glanced over at Leda. “Who’s this?”

Thorin smiled. “That is Leda. Leda, my sister, Dís, and her sons, Fíli,” he gestured to the blond, and then the brunet, “and his brother Kíli.”

Leda smiled, swallowing hard at the brackish taste flooding her mouth as Dís sharp eyes moved slowly over her. Somehow, she had the feeling Thorin’s sister could see right through her, and could actually see the baby. 

But then Dís smiled. “So you’re Leda. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She crossed over to clasp Leda’s hand with both of hers. “Thorin’s told me about you.”

This was news. Leda looked over at him. “You have?”

“Well, yeah. I might have mentioned you once or twice.”

She smiled. “But not to Frerin?”

“I talk to him maybe once a month, but Dís calls me an average of five times a day. You were bound to come up.”

“I do no such thing.” Dís shook her head and turned back to Leda. “Ignore him. My brothers are asses. Both of them.”

“Me?” Frerin pressed a hand to his chest. “What did I do?”

“I’m sure there is something I’ll find out about.”

Thorin slid his arm about Leda’s waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Dís forgets she's not our mother from time to time.”

Kíli snorted. “I wish she’d forget she’s mine sometimes.”

“Kíli!” Dís reached up and smacked him in the back of the head. “Mind yourself.”

“See?” Kíli scowled as he rubbed where his mother had hit him. “She’s mean.”

“Mean. Me?” Dís shook her head. “Just you wait. Someday, you’ll have sons of your own and I hope they are just like you.”

Fíli chuckled. “An empty threat, ‘amad.”

“You say so now,” she replied, shaking her head, “which will make my I told you so even sweeter when it comes.”

Toni came into the room then. “Ah, I thought I heard the three of you arguing. What is it this time?”

“My sons, as usual.” Dís said this with a smile, turning to Leda as she added, “They live to make me crazy.”

“And we’re very good at it,” Kíli added, a devilish glint in his dark eyes. “You’re the newest bartender at the Dunraven, aren’t you? I remember Dwalin mentioning a new girl with pink hair.”

Dís looked up at Thorin. “An employee, Thorin?”

Leda’s gut twisted sharply and the nausea returned, only held at bay by Thorin’s growled, “Not the time or the place, Dís, and definitely none of your business.” 

Dís looked from him to Leda and sighed softly. “No. I don’t suppose it is. And either way, I am happy to meet you.”

Leda breathed a soft sigh of relief as Frerin’s sons came into the room and the younger one challenged his cousins to a game of pingpong in the basement. She leaned against Thorin when they returned to their seats on the sofa, and the conversation turned away from her and the Dunraven to other, slightly more boring topics.

It was an interesting evening as everyone else chatted almost nonstop, at times almost shouting over one another. They were a loud, boisterous clan who and they all seemed to genuinely like one another, which was odd to her, considering her family gave dysfunctional a whole new meaning. 

After dinner, they did cake for Fíli and gifts and then Dís sighed as both of her sons excused themselves, citing papers each was writing that were due before midnight to their respective professors.

“So, tell me,” Dís’  hand came down onto Leda’s wrist, “how long have you and Thorin been seeing each other?”

“Since September, more or less,” she answered, glancing over at Thorin, who’d gone into the family room with Frerin. Toni was in the kitchen and Moira and Holly had retreated back to Moira’s room, leaving just Leda and Dís in the dining room. 

“September! So, why didn’t he bring you to Moira’s birthday dinner?”

Because we were just fuck buddies then. She certainly couldn’t say that, so instead, she shrugged. “It wasn’t serious then. We’d just started—ah—seeing each other and everything.”

“You have no idea how much of a surprise this is. My brother doesn’t ever bring a date to family gatherings and I’ve always wished he would, so this is wonderful. I do hope he brings you around again. One of our cousins’ wives is due in mid-February, so we’ll be having a shower for her. I’ll make sure Toni sends you an invitation.”

A baby shower? She didn’t want to be caught dead at something like that, but she certainly couldn’t say that. All she could do was smile. “That sounds great. Thorin has my address.”

Dís’ smile widened. “Wonderful! I look so forward to seeing you there. It’s been forever since he’s had a girlfriend and the last one was just awful… Oh, I won’t go into details, but she really wasn’t good for him. But I don’t get that feeling about you. In fact, I’d go out on a limb and suggest he actually seems happy— much happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

“I hope so.” Leda fought the urge to fidget under Dís’ piercing blue eyed gaze, because she again had that feeling Thorin’s sister could see right through her—right through her, through her clothes, could see the baby itself—and she held her breath waiting for her to say something about it. 

But if she was going to say anything, Dís had no chance, as Thorin strolled into the dining room. “You aren’t giving Leda a hard time, are you, Dís?”

Dís sat back in her chair. “Not at all. I was just telling her I’ll make sure Toni sends her an invitation to Corrine’s shower next month. You should settle down with her.I like her, Thorin. It’s nice to see you with someone who doesn’t take their clothes off for a living.”

“Dís, that was ages ago. Get over it.”

“She was a whore.” Dís’ voice was flat and hard. “Plain and simple.” 

“Enough. Not the time or the place.” Thorin’s hand came to rest on Leda’s shoulder. “You ready to hit the road, mesmel?”

She nodded. “I think so. I have to be at work for noon.”

Thorin winked. “I know the owner. I think he’ll be okay if you came in a little later.”

Dís chuckled. “You never learn, do you? What happened with the other bartender? And the waitress before that? You’re going to run out of employees, if you aren’t careful.”

Leda’s gut kinked sharply, a sour taste rising into her mouth. As soon as the words left her mouth, Dís’ expression grew pained. “Oh, damn it all, I’m sorry, Leda. I didn't mean that quite the way it came out and it sounded a lot better in my head.”

“And that’s really where it should’ve stayed.” Thorin narrowed his eyes at her. “Regardless, it’s more than enough, Dís. If you really want to make this your business, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

With that, he leaned over and in a low voice, growled, “I asked her to live with me. So, I think this is a little more serious than my flings with a bartender and waitress.”

A scarlet flush swept up into Dís’ cheeks, all the way to her hairline, and when she looked over at Leda, it was with a look of utter remorse. “I am so sorry, Leda. I’m such a jackass at times who needs to think before I speak.”

Leda really didn't know how to respond. Her instinct was to agree with Dís, but seeing as how they just met and she had the feeling there’d be many more gatherings like this one in the coming days, she decided to take the high road. Besides, she actually did like Dís and it was hard to fault her for being so maternal with Thorin. There were times when it seemed he needed someone to keep him in line, and somehow, she thought that role often fell to his sister. 

Either way, it wasn’t worth getting angry over, so she shook her head. “It’s okay. I may have said the same thing to him once or twice myself.”

Dís smiled, clearly relieved. “Is he for real, though? Did he really ask you to move in with him?”

“He did and I said I would.”

“So,” Dís turned her smile to Thorin, “does this mean we might be hearing wedding bells in the future? You don’t even like having women at your house for an afternoon, never mind living with you.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Leda is the exception to the rule and I like having her there. And as for wedding bells? Don’t you worry about it, little sister, because that’s really none of your business.”

Leda bit the inside of her cheek to keep quiet, to keep herself from telling Dís to mind her own fucking business. But, to her credit, Dís looked chagrined once more. “You’re right. It isn’t and I’m sorry. I’ll keep my nose where it belongs.”

“Good. Besides, you just got finished saying how you like Leda, so let it go.” He gently squeezed Leda’s shoulder. “So, we’re going to go before this gets out of hand.”

“It was nice meeting you, Dís.”

“Likewise, Leda. I’ll remind Toni.”

Leda nodded and let Thorin steer her back to the family room, where she said her goodbyes to everyone else, and when they were tucked back into his Mustang, she sighed. “Your family really is nice. A little overbearing, maybe, but still nice.”

“They’ll make you crazy in no time flat.” He slid the key into the ignition and kicked over the engine. 

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad. You all seem to like each other and that’s a good thing. We don’t all have families like that.” She shifted to glance at him. “What did you tell Frerin about me?”

“What?” He depressed the clutch, shifted into first, and eased away from the curb.

“He knew my name, Thorin. He knew my name and I saw how you looked at him when he used it. So, what did you tell him?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“He knew my name, that’s why. And I hadn’t been introduced to him and his wife said you hadn’t mentioned anything about me. So, how did he know?”

He looked over at her. “I asked him about the morning after pill.”

Her gut kinked. “You did what?”

“He’s a doctor, Leda. I wanted to know how effective the morning after pill was.” He shifted into second. “For all the good it did. You still ended up pregnant, so, I should’ve saved myself the lecture from him.”

She could only stare at him. “So he knows I’m pregnant?”

“No. He knows it was possible that you were. But, since I haven’t said anything else to him,  he probably figures it worked.”

“Why would you do that? Why would you ask someone else something so personal? And it wasn’t even about you.”

“Because he’s a damn doctor, Leda. An OB/GYN, that’s why. He’d know.” He shifted into third. “And what the fuck do you mean, it wasn’t about me? I’m the baby's father, remember? It’s almost as much about me as it is about you.”

“It’s—Christ, Thorin, this is no one else’s business and now…” She rubbed her eyes with one hand. “And what happens when I have the baby? Will your sister refer to me as a whore as well?”

At the intersection of Grove and Main, he slowed for the light. Lightly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the Creedence song on the radio, he said, “Maybe we should get married, then. Save ourselves the drama and the hassle.”

Forget twisting into knots. The pit of her stomach fell clean away. “What?”

“It’d be a lot easier for everyone. Baby’s not out of wedlock. My sister won’t have a stroke. My brother won’t care that we were fuck buddies once upon a time. No one will ever question it.”

An icy chill sank into her. “Wait… he knows about our agreement?” 

She watched as a dull flush rose along Thorin’s cheekbones. He didn't say anything at first, but just looked ahead, waiting for the light to change.

“Thorin? Did you tell him?”

He flinched. “I—I might have.”

“You might have? You might have told your brother that you and I were nothing more than fuck buddies until you got me fucking pregnant? Are you fucking kidding me? Why? Why on earth would you do something like that? What were you thinking, Thorin?”

“At the time, we weren’t going to be anything more and who knows how long it would’ve lasted.” Now he looked over at her. “At the time, I didn’t think you’d ever meet them because you were pretty damn clear about not wanting anything to do with them. Remember? I’m not meeting your family. You aren’t meeting mine.”

“Oh, Christ… Thorin…” She sank against the seat, a hand clapped to her forehead. “I can’t believe you told your brother about that…”

“He doesn’t care, except maybe he was a little envious at the time.”

“A little—Thorin!”

He winced. “I know. I’m sorry… but I think he was.” 

“I cannot believe you would do such a thing… it was no one else’s business.”

“Trust me, if I’d thought we were going to end up here, I never would’ve said anything to him. But I didn't know.” He reached over and let his hand come to rest atop hers. “So, why don’t we just get married?”

“And make it easier on everyone, right? That’s why you want to this now?”

“Well, yeah… it would, so… yeah.” He nodded.

“Easier for everyone. That’s your reason.” Her mouth went dry and that sick feeling returned. He didn’t want to marry her because he loved her. Because he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. 

He wanted to make it easier on  everyone. Bullshit. He wanted to make it easier on himself.

“Yeah,” he went on, without looking at her, “easier. I mean, they’ll know you were pregnant at the time because you’re due in six months and we’d only be married that long, but as long as it’s before the kid arrives, no one will care.”

“That’s, like, the shittiest reason ever to get married,” she told him flatly, turning back to stare out the window at the storefronts. “So your sister doesn’t get upset. So your brother doesn’t—I don’t even know what… Fuck me, are you serious? You don’t want your sister mad at you. You don’t want anyone in your family to know you’re going to have an illegitimate kid?”

“Why’re you getting angry? I thought this would make it easier on you as well.”

Her stomach curdled, the nausea returning, swift and sour and she swallowed hard against it. “You don’t give a damn about that. All you care about is making it easier for you. Just admit it.”

“No, I care about making it easier for both of us.”

“And that’s why you suddenly want to marry me.”

“What’s wrong with wanting to make things easier?”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Thorin.” Fury bubbled up, thick and hot. “You don’t want to marry me because you want to be with me. Because you love me. It’s because you’re afraid someone will be, what? Upset with you for having sex outside of marriage and be faced with the proof that you did? When did it become anyone else’s fucking business, is what I want to know?”

The light turned green and he gunned it. “I didn’t say that, though,” he growled, his voice low and gravelly. “And of course I love you. I’ve said it, haven’t I? More than once, no less.” 

“You might as well have and so what? You didn’t say that’s why you want to marry me, though. Your reason is because you’ll avoid any drama that way. What a shitty reason to give when you suggest getting married.” 

“Why are you getting so upset? It will make things easier. Mahal, I can’t wait for your hormones to level off.” He angled the car into his driveway. “Do you have any idea what it’s like dealing with you when you’re this moody?”

“Yeah, well do you have any idea what it’s like dealing with you when you're acting like a total asshole sometimes?” To her horror, tears pricked her eyes. “And you know what? I don’t want to get married just to make your life easier. This whole thing is one big fucking mistake! I don’t want to go to another family dinner, where your sister thinks she’s being magnanimous because she likes me simply because your last girlfriend was a fucking stripper—and I don’t want to know anything about her, either. And it’s really none of her fucking business whether or not we have any plans to get married, and I also don’t want to sit at some stupid baby shower! And I don’t want to marry a man whose only reason for asking me to marry him is because he’s terrified of what his sister thinks about him having a sex life! Because seriously, that’s fucked up.”

At the garage, he killed the engine and she shoved open her door. Her bike was in the garage, so she popped the handle and slid the carriage door open. Without turning off the headlights, Thorin jumped out. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going home. I just don't really want to be around you right now.” She wheeled her Harley out, balancing it between her legs as she tugged the helmet on. “Do you know how it feels, to know you’re with me because you’re afraid of what people will think otherwise? Because I’ll tell you, it feels lousy. Absolutely awful."

“Is that what you think? That's the only reason I’m—Leda, this is nuts. Hold on. Just—hold on…” He straddled the front tire, holding onto handlebars. “You’re upset. I’m upset, let’s just go inside and go to bed. We can talk about it in the morning, when we’ve both cooled down.”

“Cooled down? Do you think that’s going to change what you said to me? Or how hearing it made me feel?”

“What I said—? What the fuck did I say that upset you so much?”

She held his stare easily even as those fucking tears blurred her vision. “It’d be a lot easier for everyone. Baby’s not out of wedlock. My sister won’t have a stroke. My brother won’t care that we were fuck buddies once upon a time.”

He winced. “Leda, you know what I meant.”

“No. I know what you want me to think you meant. But, the truth is you don’t want to marry me for any of the right reasons, which means you don’t want to marry me at all. Because if you did, you would have said it was because you loved me, because you wanted to be with me, because you couldn’t see yourself with anyone else. Christ, if I wasn’t pregnant, we’d still just be fucking in your office or my apartment, wouldn’t we? There would be no dates. There would be no bringing me to birthday dinners. There’d be no living together.”

“So, if that’s true,” he countered, his voice sharp, “why did I ask you to live with me, huh? If I just wanted to make it easier for me, why did I ask you that?”

“Because I’m fucking pregnant! Otherwise, no one at the Dunraven would ever know about us. Your family wouldn’t know I even existed. It would be you bending me over the arm of the sofa in your office and hoping like hell no one walked in on us. It would be you leaving my apartment in the dead of night, after getting what you wanted. It would be me walking in to find you fucking someone else on your desk and all you’d do is ask me to close the goddamn door on my way out. The only reason you gave me that crap about not wanting to be with anyone else is because of this baby and that’s no reason to stay together. It’s actually a really shitty reason.”

“Me fucking someone—god damn it, Lacey told you about that, didn’t she?”

“Does it fucking matter?” Her throat squeezed tight and to her irritation, her eyes began stinging. This was not how tonight was supposed to end. “And I noticed you didn't say it wouldn’t happen again, did you?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Not if it’s a fucking lie, I don’t!” She kicked over the bike’s engine. “Look, the fact is, you don’t really want to marry me, at least not for the right reasons. So, why are we even doing this?”

He released the handlebars and stepped back. “I don’t know, Leda, why are we? You’re going to believe what you want to believe and I’m too tired to keep fucking arguing about it.”

“Fine. At least now you’re finally being honest with me.”

She regretted her words the second they leapt from her tongue, holding back a wince when Thorin’s face went blank. He stepped away from her bike, folding his arms over his chest and just offered up a frigid glare. “I’ve been nothing but honest with you, Leda. Since the beginning. But, you want to believe the worst about me, go ahead. I’m obviously not going to change your mind.”

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other then.” With that, she nudged the throttle and lifted her feet, leaving behind a swirling dust cloud in her wake as she rode down the driveway and out to Route Seven.

[icequeenbae]

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.7k (Chapter 1)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist   >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: Yay, this is happening!!! My first BaekBaёk, oml I’m gonna-

Ok. I’ll admit right off the bat that I wouldn’t be posting this any time soon without my lovely beta @baekshoney​ 🖤 She’s the person I turn to when I think there’s a million little things I could’ve done better, because that’s what I always think. I had to give myself a cut-off date to finally give up editing this 😅 So, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could share your thoughts and opinions on this too. My asks, dms and comments are places where you’re always welcome! Now, let’s get into this!

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove

Chapter 1. The beginning of the end 

It was all too sudden.

The words he’d said deafened you. Refusing to believe what you were hearing, you shook your head and took a step back, as if doing so could start the conversation you’d just had over. Or rewind the time and allow you to prevent the words from coming out of his mouth in the first place. But he was firm, unyielding in his stance.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It’s my fault. I should’ve known better.’

Than to start this relationship, was what he meant. That he should have avoided getting in a relationship with you altogether, and breaking up with you would’ve never become an issue.

‘Why?’ You tried to speak, but your lower lip started to tremble, silencing you at once.

This was all wrong. It couldn’t have been true, what he was saying.

He licked his lips, looking away, hands forming tight fists at his sides as he tried to recollect himself and urge his body to stay frozen on the spot.

That did not work for long – the sight of you, so small, so stunned and defeated, with tears welling in your eyes while you tried to stifle them… He couldn’t. It was stupid of him to break his act so easily, but you were too precious to him to just leave you like this.

Sighing and cursing himself out in his mind, he took a stride towards you and gathered you tightly in his arms.

‘I am sorry, Y/N,’ he continued softly, hearing you hiccup in his unexpected embrace. ‘But I have to leave. We- I should’ve stayed away from you from the start. Forgive me for being so weak.’

You sobbed at his words, shaking your head stubbornly and clinging to his broad chest as an act of desperation.

‘I can come with you!’

‘No,’ he interrupted your crazy idea. ‘I’m leaving you behind. To keep you safe.’

‘Safe from what?’ You questioned, half-annoyed now.

He kept insisting that he wished to protect you, but how was leaving you all alone ensuring your security? And why would you even consider it, when you only felt safe while with him?

‘I cannot tell you. The more you know, the more dangerous it is.’

‘Baekhyunie, please,’ you wiped the tears and grabbed onto his vest as he moved to pull away. ‘You can’t just decide this on your own!’

‘Y/N,’ he took hold of your wrists, not removing them just yet. ‘I know it’s hard, and I never wanted to hurt you like this. But there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind. I’d rather break your heart than risk your life, so it’s not really a choice.’

He looked around as if to make sure you were not being watched, and then leaned in to place a farewell kiss on your temple – his favorite spot. You sniffled, realization of the inevitable setting in.

‘Just let me go, flower,’ his voice lowered to a whisper, and you sobbed at the pet name. ‘You’ll be better off without me, I promise.’

‘No,’ you protested as he freed himself from your grasp, and took a step back. ‘No, Baekhyun, don’t leave,’ you clawed at his forearm, trying to stop him. ‘We can deal with it together, we can think of something! I don’t want to be without you,’ you whimpered sorrowfully.

He shook his head, shying away from your touch, while you desperately tried to hold him back.

But you couldn’t. He gently peeled your hands off to walk away, and you missed the pained crease between his eyebrows when he turned his back on you to escape your apartment.

‘Please, don’t do this…’ You whispered, voice breaking in anguish. Just as your heart was.

Yet, Baekhyun kept walking. Leaving you to weep in the unwelcoming emptiness of your home.

Leaving you for good.

***

Your relationship with Baekhyun started almost three years ago.

Still new to university life, you found yourself in the midst of a soap opera worth of drama when a bunch of transfer students joined all at once, some even in the same year as you. All highly attractive, they usually hung out together and spent less time than needed socializing with the outside world.

Not that you cared too much – sure, the excitement going around was making you curious, but they looked too handsome, almost to the extent that you found it intimidating. Ironically, the most intimidating you found Baekhyun. His then long dark hair with strands of red and a mullet hairstyle, the sharp green eyes, the pierced eyebrow, and the lip ring that made him look like a very attractive hooligan... The piercings turned out to be just as fake as the eye color, which did not disappoint you at all.

Funny enough, you only got to know this bad boy because he took a liking to retreating to the campus library. Hiding from all of the attention, of course. While some members of his clique actually basked in it, he preferred to disappear to the remote aisles of the quiet space and read a book, or, more likely, sleep with one on his chest. You saw him like that often, since you were stuck in there yourself – essays for different classes were piling up rapidly. As a diligent student, you were determined to do well in your first year of university, so dragging yourself to the library to stay glued to your laptop was the best option.

Coincidentally, you also preferred to stay in the less lively spaces, as you tended to seek peace and quiet to focus on your assignments. Your attention span… wasn’t impressive, to say the least, so you did your best to avoid any distractions. However, you didn’t count on a certain sleep lover to be one of them.

It was not the first day you spent close enough to notice the tranquil expression he wore on his face as he was snoozing. It was, however, the first time he caught you staring mindlessly in his direction. Burning the deepest shade of red in your cheeks, you grabbed your books and quickly made yourself scarce, thanking heavens for the multiple aisles of books around. You walked around for ten minutes or so, actually placing your books back where they belonged and finding a secluded corner to check out what else was on the shelves. Squinting, you tried to read the name of the tome that had gotten your attention, and raised your arm to get it from the level that was clearly too high for you. Thankfully, someone reached over your head and helped you obtain the book. You turned around to say thank you but instead were suddenly pushed back into the shelf by the taller figure with neat red strands. Speechless, you only held your book close and gaped at him, as he leaned forward.

‘Ever heard about the cat killed by curiosity?’ He hummed, eyes piercing you from above.

You swallowed, knees getting weaker as you registered the fresh musky smell coming off of his brightly colored shirt.

To push your buttons, he decided to get even more scandalously close to you, arm holding onto the rack behind you to keep balance.

‘Nothing wrong with being curious!’ You jabbered. ‘In fact, if people preserved the curiosity they have as kids they would’ve had a much bigger learning capacity as adults.’

He huffed. You weren’t sure if he was shocked or amused, because your eyes looked anywhere but his face. In fact, they lowered enough to fix on your forearm, resting across his rib cage, and your fist pressing slightly into his pec to keep him at least at a minimal distance.

At this you gasped, eyes widening and returning to his face, only to catch an inquisitive spark in his retinas as he nudged the lip ring with his tongue. Sighing, he took a step back, finally allowing some space between you.

‘Can’t write a philosophy essay with this, little flower,’ he chuckled. ‘Or if you can… I’d be impressed.’

You looked down in confusion, understanding that the book you were holding was from a Botanics section. ‘The Oxford Book of Wild Flowers’, read the title.

But… How did he know about your philosophy assignment?

***

Only later had Baekhyun confessed that he had had an eye on you for a while by the time this incident took place, but the moment of your outburst was what got to him. When he looked down at your cornered form, holding a book to your chest so innocently, and keeping him away instinctively with one arm. He had to bite his tongue to prevent a smile from making its way onto his face. That was it for him, and even though he wanted to avoid you and keep interactions with you to an absolute minimum, he couldn’t help but find ways to draw your attention. Like that one time, when you walked out of the library because the loud noises from the outside made your concentration for the night crumble.

The source of that noise was, in fact, a certain convertible, blasting the music for the entire campus to hear. You would have come up to complain that your studying was cut short if you didn’t have perfect eyesight. It allowed you to see that there was a red-haired problem sat in the car, with a bare foot resting lazily against the panel. Ready to run the other way, you turned around, meeting a solid chest with your forehead. You discovered that it was a rather cheerful guy in the same year as you, Jongin, and the other one with him was Sehun. And those two stalled you long enough for Baekhyun to make an entrance.

It was the first time he tried asking you out. And got rejected.

However, as much as you wanted to take ownership of that and say that you were playing hard to get when you walked off and left him stunned by your refusal, that was not the case. This guy made your throat go dry at the mere sight of him! He was way too handsome, and he also looked kind of… well, he looked like he’d break your heart without thinking twice about it. And that you couldn’t allow.

But then again, good girls do tend to fall for bad boys. Or was he only pretending to be bad? You’d never heard anything that discredited him, except for the way he stared people down sometimes. That once happened to a fellow student in your class. After he sat next to you during lunch.

Actually, almost the entire week following that incident you had lunch alone because everyone kept making excuses to sit elsewhere. That was how you became friends with Jongin and Sehun. Having had a few classes together, you were more or less acquainted with each other, so you didn’t mind when Jongin suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a tray and asked you if they could join. He even had lunch with you when Sehun wasn’t around – you figured that it made Jongin even more chatty. So much so, that one day he leaned across the table to get slightly closer, and used his most clandestine voice on you.

‘You know, hyung could burn a hole in anyone next to you with his glare, but I’m immune to his ‘charms’, thankfully,’ he giggled and added, ‘Still, I think you should give him a chance. Baekhyun’s a good guy, and he’s kinda torn as it is. Asking you out was a pretty big step for him.’

Honestly, you had a hard time believing that. Baekhyun… was probably the kind of guy, who never even had to ask. You could look around and easily spot a dozen eyes that were fixed on him at this very moment. Why in the world would he want to date you, clearly not the ‘easy-going’ party type? He probably wanted to get into your pants just for sport, like the rest of the pretty boys.

‘Whatever you’re thinking, it’s far from the truth. Ugh, Junmyeon will kill me for this!’ Jongin cursed himself and continued, before you could ask. ‘Hyung looks rough around the edges, but he’s really a softie. Trust me on this.’

‘Are you his wingman or something?’ You snorted dubiously, getting a little timid from this discussion.

‘Ha, are you kidding? He’s gonna strangle me if he finds out. Like I said, he’s torn between staying away from you and persisting in his efforts to take you out. Just think about it,’ he ended with an attempted (but failed) wink.

As if to take away your chance to process the unexpected input, Jongin shoved Baekhyun in your direction the very next day. Disappearing from the cafeteria right after, of course. Envy his subtlety. But, apparently, what he said earlier had an effect, so you only nodded when a flustered figure asked for permission to sit with you. He looked quite different from the previous times you saw him up close – much less confident and intimidating. But he seemed sincere when he said he just wanted one chance.

And that was how your relationship picked up. It took a whirlwind course from the very beginning, and the hot summer before your second year of university was the most torturous time ever for the both of you. Still wary of getting played, you only trusted Baekhyun enough to get intimately close months and months into dating. And he was patient with you, going at a slow pace, letting you pull away whenever you wanted. Until you didn’t want to anymore.

That last leap of faith was a beginning in itself – a true beginning of you and Baekhyun. The final seal was broken, and you entrusted yourself fully to him, which he repaid by showering you in his affection and feelings that he himself had not come to acknowledge just then.

After a year together, you were not simply allowed into the inner circle, but also educated about the special abilities that Baekhyun and his friends had. You were first interrogated by their leader, Junmyeon, who wanted to make sure you had no ulterior motives and were not going to tell a living soul about them. He called it ‘a quick chat’ as he dragged you in a scarcely furnished room where he sat you down at the small metal table across from him. The leader asked you questions and tried reading your verbal and non-verbal cues, so it was clearly an interrogation. Junmyeon was pretty experienced in this, so he could instantly tell that you were harmless. And you also passed the test, answering the most ridiculous questions about Baekhyun – apparently, that was to make sure you were not ‘faking it’ – so, he accepted you into their family.

However, knowing too much was dangerous, so you only learned about their powers and how they came from the so-called EXO Planet when they were young (talk about dating an alien!), and that the organization they called ‘the Red’ amongst themselves wanted to hunt them down. They also used to be held hostage by these people – and that was just about as much you knew about the issue because Baekhyun kept you away from the ‘unnecessary details’. He only told you that they seemed to be hidden well in this town, surrounded by just enough people to blend in and disappear. And you worried, always, because you knew too little about the dangers surrounding the group, and even less about how you could contribute to their safety.

Baekhyun laughed when you once brought it up, finding your concern nothing but cute.

‘You don’t have to worry about it, flower. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, not the other way around,’ he then said, playing with the curly ends of your hair.

You frowned at that. Why was it not your job to take care of him? If you could help, you wanted to help. But he always brushed you off, saying that the only thing you should do to help is staying out of trouble. Like that was a challenge – you either studied or hung out with him and his friends, not much room to stir trouble. The only other person you talked to regularly was your roommate, and she was also pretty harmless.

As time went by, you got closer to your own graduation, basically, one year left before you had to figure it out for yourself again. Your boyfriend was always supportive, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he imagined your future. He was always up to something but never shared it with you since it was ‘nothing for you to worry about’. Had he not shown you his actual abilities before, you would’ve certainly thought that it was a crazy lie he told you to cover up for some kind of illegal activity. In reality, some illegal activities were going on, especially since hacking and cracking was one of Minseok’s specialties (but mostly because they needed to keep their identities out of sight). Another reason why they didn’t all go to the same school when they arrived, and also why they changed their appearance ever so often. The lucky mullet was long gone by the time you had your first Christmas together, and you had had the pleasure of seeing him in multiple hair colors throughout almost three years of your relationship. Notably, the first dozen or so make-out sessions you had with him took place when he had just cut his hair and dyed it pitch black. And he still wore his fake lip ring at the time, which was an experience in itself. He did know how to use his mouth…

Admittedly, you were kind of used to being the object of the boys’ shameless teasing every time you hung out together. The way Baekhyun kept you close and fussed about everything was, apparently, atypical for their usually chill and humorous hyung. He was their second-in-command, after all, the genius behind the strategic planning of the group, and the mind that kept them hidden for so long in one place.

Because of you.

One of the boys had previously let it slip that they hadn’t lived anywhere for that long before, maybe not even for one full year. But this time Baekhyun was determined to stay for a while, now that he had an anchor.

But the day came. When he found out that they might’ve been compromised, he got scared. The way he’d never feared anything before. And he’d been through a lot, to put it mildly. Baekhyun could maintain a cold and sharp mind at all times, that was his thing, but not when it came to you. Once he figured out that there was a real chance, that they could’ve found the EXO hideout and, thus, could connect you to the boys, he couldn’t think straight. Overwhelmed by a sudden panic, he sought advice from the leader.

‘You know it’s not me who’s supposed to decide,’ Junmyeon sighed, looking at his disheveled second. ‘I told you a relationship wasn’t a good idea. I also think that keeping her close means putting her life in jeopardy.’

His words were cutting through Baekhyun as he paced the room, long fingers grasping his own hair.

‘But it still may be a safer option than leaving her here,’ the leader added, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘We need to relocate fast, and you have the ‘better of two evils’ situation on your hands.’

‘I know I should leave her,’ Baekhyun stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the leader. ‘But what if they already know, hyung?’

‘Minseok had every trace of her erased, not a single camera in town had a glimpse of her with you. They might have found our footprints in the sand, but those don’t necessarily lead to her. I suppose they should move on as soon as they come here and realize that we’re nowhere around.’

‘Most likely, but what if-’

‘They can very well catch up to us while we run. Like I said, there isn’t a right answer, but a choice. And I think that you’ve already made it when you should give her a voice, too,’ the leader pushed.

‘I-’ Baekhyun turned away to hide the glassy eyes from Junmyeon. ‘I have to give her a chance, hyung. I cannot sentence her to a lifetime of running and danger. And I know she’s silly enough to throw herself into it if she has a say in this.’

‘And if you’re wrong? You’re going to break her heart as a precaution?’

‘She won’t die from a broken heart. Can you imagine what they’d do to her if they find out?’

Junmyeon bit his lip. This time, the choice was completely out of his hands. He thought his second was making a mistake, but it was not his place to decide. Exhaling again, he nodded.

‘Tell her in the morning. We’re moving out as soon as the rain starts.’

>> Chapter 2

A/N: So, what do you think? This is more of an introductory chapter, I know, but it covers quite a lot of their relationship with Baek. You must be excited to see where this goes and when Baёk appears? Or if Baekhyun is coming back? Me too, me too 🙈

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 154

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

I was able to get the Master Post cleaned up this morning.  I know there is a reblog going around with some of the links missing... I put that one up originally as a place holder so I could update my page links in chapters 101 through this one.   I did NOT anticipate it would get immediately reblogged, which made me squeak in pleasant surprise.  I’ll reblog the full post so everyone has the right one.

Also, thanks to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog for keeping me going and all your help beta-reading and checking my links.  You three are the real heroes here!

“The quiet rooms are done,” Hannah yawned the next morning. “It’s a good thing we decided to make them available immediately, because the first one had people scheduling time before we finished the second one.”

“How many did we end up with?” I asked, pushing down my own urge to yawn. I had always prided myself on being able to resist the urge to yawn when others did, and I wasn’t letting that stop now.

The model of the Ark came up on the table emitter, and Hannah zoomed in on the highlighted areas. “Right now, we have twelve, just like you set up for the second Food Festival. But I’ll be honest, they rooms are already booked for the foreseeable future, and I don’t think that’s tenable.”

“Agreed. I’ll talk to the rest of the Council, but at this point, we need to see about setting all available spaces for quiet rooms.” I nodded and added that note to my agenda. “Moving on, food vendors being allowed in BioLab2. Any updates?”

Parvati flicked the data to everyone. “Grey isn’t thrilled with the possibility that the food will contaminate the aquatics, but is willing to allow vendors in ‘The Fairy Circle’?” She gave me a questioning look. “They said you would know what that meant.”

I just smiled and shook my head. “It’s where I go camping. Conor managed to pull off a prank that fooled even Charly and made a Faerie circle.  It’s a good choice, though: ten, eleven feet across, accessible, and far enough from the water that there wouldn’t be any risk.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Credit to Conor on that one. But, Grey was very enthusiastic about the idea of setting up some picnic tables throughout the woods and letting people bring picnics.”

“I already have some vendors on board, there,” I breathed in relief. “Especially the ones who specialize in the type of foods that lend themselves well to being portable.”

Hannah’s face lit up. “Do we get to taste test some of these? I’m really getting some bento box and pasty vibes from what you just said, and I’m not sure which I’m more excited about.”

“I think I can get that to happen,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind trying some of the options myself, but I can at least already confirm that all bases are covered for dietary requirements. Next up, where are we on the holiday date?”

“Still working with the other departments to finalize a date where all projects can be completed, paused, or at least at a point where they don’t require direct observation. Everyone is on board, though.”

“That’s the biggest hurdle,” I confirmed. “Means we can proceed with at least putting the rest of the events together in preparation for the final date. I trust you two in handling the party aspect of it, and Charly is already working Bash on another Kink Night event at the Undine - minimal planning needed there. So, let’s figure out who is coordinating the paint-tag fight, and we can loop back to the plans for the party.”

“While I am entirely sure Charly can handle planning for both the paint tag and the other - seeing as both were her ideas - it doesn’t feel fair to leave them both entirely on her shoulders,” Hannah agreed. “It says here that you already had Conor confirm we missed Holi?

“By about six months,” I confessed. “So we’re pretty much both too late and too early.”

“I do believe the arrows would be frowned upon, in any event,” Parvati joked. “I still have her paint formulas - flavors are not listed, but there is a distinct lack of both black and yellow.”

“Those were… scotch bonnet for the black, I know that one. I think the yellow was gochujang, which would still hurt if you got it in your eyes,” I recalled.

She flicked her hands, bracelets chiming. “I will ask for a new formula for yellow, but I think we can live without black paint. The yellow was lovely, though.”

“Ask nicely, and she’ll probably give you the glitter formula colors, which I think are different flavors from the regular palette,” I suggested. “And the glitter is ultra-violet reactive, so that’ll be fun.”

Emphatic stabbing at her datapad ensued - impressive, because it wasn’t even physically there, just emitted from the band on her wrist. “Once I have those, I believe Hannah and I can coordinate that along with the party.  There is no food component, it is only for one day, so the scope is far smaller than the Festival was.”

“And besides,” Hannah added with a shrug, “whip up some paints and some spongy balls to soak it up, set boundaries, invite anyone who wants to attend. Planning done.” She dusted her hands off for emphasis, but she had a point.

“I’ve got the care packages well underway, so we’re solid there. The party. What’s the plan there?”

Parvati dismissed the schematic from the table emitter and sent a different image to it. This one was practically the opposite of what I had expected: where I had anticipated Food Festival 2: Pyrotechnic Boogaloo, I was instead looking at a park that I was reasonably certain only existed in dreams.

Soft green grass that my toes wiggled to touch spanned a rolling, looping thoroughfare. Trees arched overhead like an arbor, and were either woven with lights are absolutely covered in fireflies.  Between breaks in the canopy, a night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my living memory.  Here and there small braziers burned brightly with fire, resting on sturdy rugs and dotted around with cushions.

“Vati,” I whispered hoarsely. “We can’t use BioLab2 for this, can we? Will Grey allow it?”

“We can, and they are.” Her smile was the feral one that usually preceded a coup de grace of event planning. “This, however, is not BioLab2.  This is the corridors of levels twelve through fourteen, leading into the lab.”

My first urge was to guess what she was planning, but my mind came up blank. I circled around my desk to stand closer to the table. “Okay, talk to me. Make it make sense.”

She nodded. “The grass is real, laid down like sod. The terraforming teams have agreed to let us use it, provided we allow them to collect data on how it holds up to so much foot traffic and include a post-event question regarding the tactile feel on bare feet.  So, bare feet they shall have.” She winked when I realized she and Hannah were going to make it part of the theme. “The trees are an illusion, simple light emitters against the corridor walls, combined with the existing texture of the surface.”

When she moved the image to mimic walking further down the path, Hannah picked up. “The larger spaces are actually where the corridors are longer between quiet rooms. Rather than trying to pull off the tree illusion, we’re going to create a  night sky with shooting stars, comets, the works.  Like a dream.”

“I like it. It’s not what I was expecting, but I’m even more impressed for that.”

“We couldn’t compete with Charly,” Parvati confessed. “She is already going to have our base desires covered.  Anything we tried to do would look like a pale imitation. So, we went the other direction: What else do we do to feel alive?”

“We dream,” I laughed. “It’s all a fairy tale dream, isn’t it?”

“That’s the goal,” Hannah confirmed. “A beautiful dream. One day and one night where you can live out your humanity however you want, without having to compromise.  If someone wants to throw paint with childish abandon, then stroll and dance through a dream, and finish the night at the Undine trying something they never dared to do before, they can do that.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds decadent.”

“I was going for hedonistic, over all, but you’re on the right track,” Parvati laughed. “Hannah and I agreed that everyone on the Ark needed one perfect day.  And since perfect is different for everyone…” She shrugged. “We just decided to give them all the options.  The quiet rooms will be open if their perfect includes a botanical garden, or a cloud… the mess halls will be open if it means a feast, or even just decadent hors d'oeuvres they could never make an excuse to try. It’s literally all on the table.”

“Consider it signed off on.” I still couldn’t take my eyes off that grass, toes wiggling happily. “Just let me know the date when we have one, I need a pedicure to enjoy this completely.”

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[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 6

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Thank you so much for all the notes and reblogs! As I’m writing this I’m currently writing chapter 14. As more chapters are being written, I try to make them longer. Before my target was around 1000 words then it progressed to 1700 and then to 2000 so newer chapters will be updated less frequently.

Alya shook her head. "That isn't what I'm trying to say. What I'm trying to find out is who does she is love now?"

————————————————————

Marinette had been the one to collect the dinner despite Damian's constant requests to help. Despite her short size, Marinette managed to transport the food from the door to the dinning table in his hotel room, which Damian found surprising as she was way much stronger than she looked. Damian thanked her for bringing the food and sat in the chair directly in front of her so that it would be much easier to talk, after pushing her chair in for her.

"So, Shaytan" Marinette said while struggling to cut the vegetarian steak. "What did you want to ask?".

Damian smiled and got up to place his hands on hers, then he helped cut the steak before sitting back down. She giggled. "Earlier you asked what my reason for coming to Paris was. I shall fully answer that question now. My reason for coming was to gain more information about the alleged attacks happening here" Damian was slightly shocked at how Marinette's facial expressions changed from happy and bubbly to serious, though he didn't show it. This was a serious topic after all.

"Well first of all, the attacks are happening, they have been for over a year now." Damian's shock was plastered all over his face 'They've been dealing with this for over a year?' "Second of all" she took a piece of steak and swallowed it before continuing. "The Paris police force aren't dealing with this by themselves, there are superheroes here"

"Well Angel, who are they?"

"Well when the attacks first started a superhero duo was always there to defeat them. A girl called Ladybug and a boy called Chat Noir" she took another bite of steak. "But since the villains have gotten a lot stronger, they've expanded to a superhero team. On hero's day was one of the most biggest attacks and at the time, the superhero team was at five members. The other heroes were Rena Rouge, Carapace and Queen Bee." Damian was impressed at how much Marinette could say without needing to take breaths of air.

"And who is the one responsible for these attacks?"

"Hawkmoth" Marinette said taking yet another piece of steak. "When someone's negative emotions passes a certain limit, Hawkmkth uses an Akuma to akumatize that person, turning them into a villain with powers. If you're wondering, an akuma is a butterfly filled with Hawkmoth's power. I heard he can control them to go to a certain victim but if the akuma is far away, he can't control the villain or get in contact with the akuma." Marinette took another piece of steak, in her defense it was really good, for a vegetarian steak. "But recently there has been a new villain working on his side, Mayura. She creates something similar to an akuma but it's call an amok and it's in the shape of a feather. What the amok does is create a sentimonster. A sentimonster is fueled by emotions and can be controlled only by the person who holds the object with the amok inside"

"Yes that does make sense. So how many superheroes has there been in total and what are the ages of all of them, including Hawkmoth and Mayura?"

"I believe there have been ten different superheroes." She began listing them all out loud. "Ladybug, Chat Noir, Rena Rouge, Carapace, Queen Bee, Viperion, Pegasus, Ryuko, King Monkey and Multimouse. Yep ten but most of them have only appeared once. And they're all in between the ages of 14-16, I'd say. Hawkmoth and Mayura however are adults"

"So you're saying that two adults are putting the lives of a maximum of ten kids in danger" Marinette nodded. "But what is his motive?"

"I honestly have no idea" Marinette put bluntly while putting another piece of steak in her mouth. She then glanced at the time and realised she had to go home soon. She looked at the half eaten steak, she sighed "I have to go Damian I'm so sorry, I'm can tell you every thing I know through text if you want me to,"

"No it's fine, you go home and home a good sleep. We can talk tomorrow" Damian was surprised when Marinette hugged him before leaving. Of course, he hugged her back.

A few hours after Marinette left, Damian opened the computer to a shared document, surprisingly, Tim was on it at the time. The system showed that Tim was typing something.

Tim: Wow, no rest for Demon Spawn eh?

Damian rolled his eyes at his older brother's comment. He dragged his mouse down the document, searching for a certain column labeled 'current situation'. There he could give a general idea of how bad it was here at Paris. Marinette and told him so much already but his gut told him that she had more to tell. Though he didn't like the thought of becoming soft, he didn't mind being that soft around Mari. 'Everyone else? Hell no'. He quickly found the column he was looking for. He then selected an option out of the possible five, 'critical'. This meant that Paris was in serious danger. He knew that Tim was watching, probably drowning himself in coffee, but the dark-haired boy was surprised when Tim didn't sent a message straight away. As the three dots appeared, indicating that Tim had begun to type, Damian signed off. He liked it when he seemed mysterious.

Then Damian remembered that Marinette never got to finish her steak. Not wanting to waste it, he decided to have it as a midnight snack.

~~~

"Oh Tikki! I had an amazing time with Damian" the bluenette gushed to her kwami.

"You seemed very happy in his company Marinette!" Tikki squeaked. "But how will you be able to move on after he's gone back to Gotham?"

Marinette frowned. "Well, I'll worry about that when the time comes". She then thought about all the fun she had at the dark-haired boy's hotel room then the thought about how he made her blush like mad. Again the moment made her blush again, just not as much as earlier. Then the thought hit her. "Tikki, when I put Damian's head on my lap, do you think he thought it meant something else?"

"You let him rest his head in you're lap? Wow I never saw that!" Marinette went red again, this time she didn't have Damian's shoulder to hide herself. 'I guess that's my new coping mechanism, but I'm not complaining. He's also really hot when he smirks- gAH'

~~~

It was 4 pm. Tim wasn't really tired, he was just a caffeine addict, this was his fifth cup in the span of a single hour. If Damian was here, he would likely look at him with judging eyes. 'But he isn't here so hah, take that Demon Spawn'. Just when he said that in his mind, a message arrived saying that Damian was online.

"Speak of the devil" Tim muttered, taking another sip of coffee. He decided to write him a message.

Tim: Wow, no rest for Demon Spawn eh?

Though he wasn't really expecting him to reply, he didn't expect Damian to do what he did next. Tim watched as Damian changed the situation column for 'No Information' to 'Critical'. "What the-" Tim saw that Dick was in the room. "Dick could you pull up a live feed from Paris?"

"Aight"

The TV showed a peaceful and quiet Paris, not like the one you would expect if it were labeled under 'critical'. Tim was so confused he began to type a message but noticed that Damian had signed off. Dick, seeing Tim's confused nature, came over to look at the computer. "What was he referring to? What the hell is going on?"

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 4

Masterlist

Thank you as always to my best friend and Beta reader @acollectionofficsandshit​ for putting up with me and my ramblings ♥

Word Count: 3.8k

Recommended song: "ily (I love you baby)" by Surf Mesa and Emilee

You'd never been more thankful that you kept a change of clothes in your car than you were after the race at Silverstone. You'd showered again, changing back into the sweaty tee and leggings. The clean emergency hoodie and jeans were a blessing, and casual enough for a night on the town.

Most of the crew had left, only a few poor souls pouring over race data or packing up essentials. James let you into the trailer yard this time without hesitation. "We really should just get you a key," He teases, "Sure would make my life easier."

Rolling your eyes, you give the tower of muscle a pitiful shove. He doesn't move an inch. "Thanks James. I'll ask Pierre to look into it."

A sudden wave of tiredness washes over you when you make it back to the trailer. You flip through the channels on the tiny television, settling on an analysis of the day’s race.

“And a brilliant drive from young Pierre Gasly, wasn’t it John?”

“I completely agree Martin. Gasly took advantage of every slip up by Mercedes and Red Bull and he has to be commended for that. Max made some rare mistakes and…”

You smile to yourself, their praise washing over you. Yawning, you curl up on Pierre's bed, the familiar smell of cedar lulling you into a light sleep in minutes.

**********

A gentle touch to your cheek wakes you some hours later. You crack your eyes open, greeted by a smile brighter than the stars in the night sky. You taste eternal sunshine on his lips when you kiss him, your soul sparking in response to his light.

"Good morning," He murmurs, thumb rubbing along your jaw. "Sleep well?"

You snuggle closer to him, eyes closing once more as you soak up the warmth. "Is it time to go out already?"

"It is. But we can stay here if you want to." He brushes a stray hair off your face. The gesture is so tender, if you didn’t know any better you’d never guess he could turn into the seasoned, take-no-shit racer you’d seen hours before. 

You shake your head. You couldn't let him miss out on celebrating his victory with his closest friends. Besides, you hadn't seen any of them for a span of time longer than a few minutes in months, and truth be told, you missed them all. 

Those boys had a knack for turning the simplest of outings into unforgettable adventures. You had been sworn to secrecy on numerous occasions after Pierre recounted drunken escapades that usually ended with Max sleeping somewhere preposterous, like a claw-footed bathtub in a fancy suite.

“Where are we going?” You ask sleepily. “Somewhere nearby?”

Pierre tugs you up until you’re sitting. He pulls you back against his chest, arms wrapping around you as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe ten minutes away.”

You lean your full weight against him, admiring how perfectly your bodies slot together. “Can I leave my car here?”

“As long as you’re okay with it staying here until tomorrow, that’s fine.” He coaxes you to stand and presses a kiss to your temple as a reward. Your limbs are still heavy and uncooperative. Pierre winds an arm around your waist, supporting you and assuming the position of your rock as he always did.

"You don't sleep here," You state simply, looking at him for confirmation. He shakes his head.

"Wouldn't be enough room for two anyway." He gestures to the tiny twin sized bed and shrugs.

Your brow furrows. “Am I staying with you tonight?” You honestly had not considered it. The jet usually left early and you had assumed he would want to get as much rest as possible. But now that you had experienced waking up next to him, you realize how much you want his face to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes each morning.

“Of course you’re staying with me. I’m taking every second of your time that I can get.”

You bite your lip and lay your head on his shoulder. The idea of falling asleep in his arms was enough to shake any lingering sleepiness. “Okay.” Confident that you could hold yourself up, you step out of his grasp. “Ready.”

The few mechanics roaming about the grounds are enough to keep you cautious. You walk through the paddock a hair's breadth apart, although every nerve screams for you to touch him. Every time your arm grazes his, electricity ripples across your skin. All you want to do is hold his hand, but there’s enough prying eyes that you restrain the impulse.

You can tell he feels it too by the way his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. And he's biting his cheek, you notice. A nervous habit of his and a clear indicator that he'd retreated inside his own head, likely contemplating if he'd truly deserved to win today or not.

Every few months his doubts crept in, the devil on his shoulder reminding him that Horner hadn't deemed him good enough to keep his seat at Red Bull after only a handful of races.

You'll never be as talented as them, is what you'd imagined it whispered. They're only here because they pity you. What makes you think you deserve a seat?

It couldn't be farther from the truth. Deep down, Pierre knew that. Driving in Formula 1 meant being under constant scrutiny from the public and sportscasters. Making an error meant debates about whether you were good enough and rumors about seat security.

There were no such errors today. You'd heard the commentary after the race; everyone was raving about his performance. Not one person had dared say he didn't deserve it.

Not wanting him to suffer alone, you subtly wrap your pinky finger around his. "You're okay," You say softly, his head whipping to you. "You deserved that trophy today. It was some of the best driving I've ever seen, everyone agrees. You deserve a trophy every time you get in that car. You'll always be my champion, even if the world tells you otherwise."

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but he nods and releases your pinkie. "You're my grounding rod," He says, lips curling in a knowing smile, and you can't hold back your laugh.

"Leave it to you to turn a romantic moment into a cheesy one." Instead of saying you're my rock like any normal person, he had to bring up the time you'd embarrassed yourself at the bar a year or so ago. He'd let you prattle on to poor Dan about building grounding rods of all things, and how you'd thought your professor's way of designing such a system was flawed. Pierre would never let you live that down, it seemed.

Max spots the two of you first, waving from where the boys had gathered outside Red Bull. “About time you showed up! We’ve been waiting for ten minutes!”

“She fell asleep,” Pierre says simply, his confidence back. “Takes her awhile to wake up.”

“Whatever, I’m just glad you’re here,” Daniel says, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you tight to his side. You couldn’t help the broad smile creeping onto your face, twin to the aussie’s as you hug him back. 

“We missed you,” Charles says, falling into step beside you. “I never hear from you anymore!”

You grimace. It was true, while the three boys had texted you quite frequently the past few months, you had barely responded to them. You felt guilty about it, knowing they were taking time out of their packed schedules to catch up. But uni had been kicking your ass and the only one you’d found time for was Pierre. Looking back, you were glad he had been the exception.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say. “Lots of projects.”

“And that new internship,” Max points out. Your eyebrows flick up, gaze flicking to Pierre. You had been awarded an internship a month or so ago at a local engineering firm in London. It was only part time work, a few hours a week, but it was enough. The only one you had told was Pierre.

Pierre grins, the gesture a silent apology. “I may have spilled the beans.” 

You cut him a glare, the others laughing at your attempt at being intimidating. But you couldn’t turn away from him, not when he was looking at you with the same pride you had felt when he’d won earlier that day. 

“Uber’s here,” Charles announces, checking his phone.

“Where?” Daniel asks, and Charles indicates a black SUV parked at the curb. Daniel and Max exchange a look, shouting “Shotgun!” at the same time. Both boys break into a full sprint, feet pounding on the pavement. Daniel wins - barely, leaving Max and Charles to squeeze into the back seat.

Pierre follows you into the third row of seats, his hand immediately engulfing yours. Your stomach flips, glancing up to find a reassuring smile on his face. You could barely focus on what was said for the first half of the ride, hyperaware of the callouses rubbing your skin. The world around you erupts into color at the touch, completing the part of you that you’d never realized was missing. 

The remainder of the drive is filled with laughter, jokes, and plenty of selfies with the driver. It wasn’t every day one could brag about having four world class drivers in your car; you couldn’t blame the man for being excited.

By the time you arrive at the bar, your sides are already splitting with laughter. “First round is on you, Ricciardo,” Charles says, wagging a finger at him. “Punishment for bringing up the Abu Dhabi incident again!”

“Jokes on you, I was already planning on it!” He glances at you and winks. “Gotta congratulate the winner somehow, right?” Little did the Australian know, you had already congratulated Pierre a few hours ago, and you doubted that a few shots would outshine that performance. You hope the pink tinge that rises to your cheeks with the memory isn't obvious and you duck your head just in case.

A blast of air conditioning hits you as you all stumble into the bar. All eyes fell to you and the ragtag group of drivers when you entered, silence blanketing the patrons. The bartender slams a fist on the wooden bartop, rattling glasses and making you flinch.

“Been wonderin’ when you lot were gonna show your ugly mugs!”

Daniel, Max and Charles erupt into friendly laughter, shaking the man’s hand and making small talk. You look to Pierre for an explanation.

“Tradition,” He murmurs. The noise returned to a normal level around you, though you could feel the glances thrown your way. “We come here every year, but only if one of us wins at Silverstone. Been awhile since that happened.”

"Ah," You say, nodding dramatically. "Yes, very long time." Pierre grins, shaking his head.

"Who won this year?" The man - William, Pierre informs you- asks. He towered over you when you sat on the sticky bar stool, tall and lanky but well muscled and certainly not someone you would expect patrons to try disrespecting. He was already pouring five shots of a fine Irish Whiskey, waving Daniel off when he tried to start a tab. “My treat.”

Max claps a hand on Pierre's shoulder. "This one claimed the crown, for once!"

"Wey hey!" William says, passing out the shots. "Everyone else crash out or what?"

"You should watch the replay," You say, knocking Pierre's shoulder with your own. "It was amazing. The move he used to get past Max-" you bring your pinched fingers to your lips in a chef's kiss. "Gorgeous."

"Much to Max's despair," Charles adds, raising his shot. "To the underdog!"

You all echo the sentiment, the boys knocking back the strong alcohol with practiced ease. It didn't go down as smooth for you, burning your throat and making you wince.

Daniel laughs. "Not used to drinking with us anymore, huh?"

"Must have lost my edge," You say, the woody taste lingering in your mouth. "I'm sure it'll hit me hard in a half hour or so, too."

**********

Well, you weren't wrong about the alcohol hitting you like a punch to the gut. Two shots later and you were swaying like a sailor on his first excursion out to sea, Pierre's shoulder the only thing keeping you from toppling off the bar stool. 

Pierre's eyes were bright as the others poked fun at him, William joining in with a witty remark now and then. His laugh wrapped around you like a warm blanket, keeping you content and grounded.

"Hey Pierre," Daniel says at one point, "Don't look now but that table of girls has been obsessed with you all night."

Pierre, blitzed as he was, pays no attention to Dan's warning and turns around. A loopy grin was plastered on his face, turning back and shaking his head.

You may not have been able to think straight, but your stomach lurches. Instantly sobering slightly, you follow Dan's gaze to the indicated table to your left. Three beautiful women sat there, whispering behind their hands and clearly speaking about Pierre. One bit her lip and caught your eye, giggling. Her looks were universally attractive enough that she would be anyone’s type, Pierre included. The possessiveness in the gaze she raked over his body set your blood boiling. 

This… was not a scenario you wanted to play out. You didn't know if Pierre was ready to tell his friends about your relationship yet. You knew he wouldn't let any of those girls have the light of day, but he might let them fawn over him a little, just to protect your secret. And it would kill you, but you would have no choice but to let it happen.

"I'm good," Pierre says, sipping the beer he had been nursing all night.

"Come on mate," Max pushes, a wicked grin on his flushed face, "That blonde is so your type."

No she isn't.

You’re already staring up at Pierre when he turns to you. You have always worn your emotions on your sleeve for anyone to see, and it only got worse when mixed with alcohol. Pierre smiles softly, taking mercy on you. Slowly, he takes your hand and threads your fingers together before turning back to the boys.

"One of you can tell them I’m not interested. I already have my girl." 

Heart beating wildly, you scan your friends faces. They were all wide eyed and slack jawed, staring at your joined hands. Pierre gives your hand a gentle squeeze, reminding you to breathe. He read you like an open book, offering reassurance when you needed it most.

"It's about fucking time!" Daniel roars, breaking the tense silence. Your shoulders relax, grinning along with the others. Pierre beams at you, knocking your shoulder to say I told you so. 

"Does this mean I get a break from listening to you obsess over her every weekend?" Max asks, giving you a meaningful look. 

"Likely not," Pierre answers. "I'm still just as obsessed as before. Maybe more." Max pretends to gag, earning him a playful punch from Charles. God, it was so freeing for your relationship to be more open, even if it was just between your closest friends. 

"I'd just like to point out that I told you two this would happen years ago," Charles says matter of factly, pointing at Max and Dan. "Should've taken you up on that bet."

Your mouth hung open. "You were going to bet on us being a couple?"

"Oh come on," Max says, rolling his eyes. "We all knew it was coming eventually. We just didn't know when!"

Pink stains your cheeks, but Pierre laughs and leans in to kiss you. Remembering the girls behind you, you press a little closer to him. Under the guise of placing a kiss to his cheek, you meet the blonde's eyes and smile sweetly.

The woman preens, mouth twisting. Good. Pierre was yours, and now that he'd admitted it, you could let those girls know it. His hand slips to your thigh, squeezing hard. A clear warning that you were venturing into dangerous territory. You didn't care.

The alcohol in your veins makes you bold, and you want to drive your point home. They could look all they wanted, but he was coming home with you. You push the boundary farther and bite the soft skin of his neck just hard enough to leave a mark. Pierre's hiss finally makes you pull back and look up at him innocently.

"Get a room," Daniel teases with a wink. You smile at him, mumbling an insincere apology. Your point had been made. The arrogant smirk had been wiped from the woman’s face, replaced with a grimace. 

"I think it is time for us to get going," Pierre says, annoyance flashing across his face. Oh, you had stoked the fire and now you would have to face the consequences. 

"We're just getting started," Charles complains. Pierre slaps a few bills on the counter and gets up without responding. 

"Bye guys!" You call over your shoulder as Pierre drags you towards the door. They all wave back, Max's lower lip jutting out in a pout. Your eyes slid one more time to the blonde, who had her arms crossed over her chest. You give her a wicked, taunting grin and return her earlier wink.

Pierre halts so quickly that you run into him. “Why are we leaving?”

“You know why,” He growls, flagging down a cab. “You didn't like how she was looking at me, so you did something about it. You might not have noticed, but every man in that bar had their eyes on you. So I’m following your example and doing something about it.”

Your brow furrows. Pierre won’t meet your gaze, and your eyes fall to the purple mark on his neck. You didn’t like his tone; it bordered dangerously on anger. “Are you… Are you mad that I did that?”

Tears threaten to spill when he finally looks at you. God, you were a blubbering drunk.  When your lip wobbles, his anger fades and he sighs. “I’m not mad. I just… I didn’t think you’d want me flaunting our relationship yet. When you did this-” He gestures to his neck- “I could barely keep my hands off you. Not when I saw the guy walking up to you.”

You sniff, trying to conjure the image of the bar. “I didn’t notice anyone.”

“Yeah, cause I dragged you out here before he could say anything.” Pierre pulls his hood up and sighs. “Trying to catch a cab here is harder than overtaking Hamilton.”

You laugh harder than you should at the off-hand remark, following after him as he trudges down the sidewalk. “Why are you not drunk? I feel like you should be drunk. You won a race. They were feeding you shots one after another.”

“One of us had to be responsible and make sure we got home okay.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “And I knew as soon as you had that first shot it would have to be me. Didn’t you notice me handing the shots to the other guys?”

“No,” You say, rubbing your eyes. “What about the boys? How are they gonna get home?” Pierre stops, forcing you to do the same. He tugs your hood up, makes sure his is secure enough to hide his face, and grabs your hand.

“I already told Seb to come round them up in an hour or so. They’ll be fine.”

You don’t respond, too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other and not fall on your face. It doesn’t help that your vision is a tad blurry. Finally you give up and whine, “How much further?”

“It’s right there,” He says, pointing at a towering glass building just across the street. “In five minutes, you can be tucked into a cozy, fluffy suite and you can rest all you want, my love.”

You hum at the words, warmth flooding your veins from more than the liquor. “I like that.”

“What, the building?” He asks, amused. He helps you cross the empty street, making sure you’re paying attention to where you’re going.

“Noooo, what you said,” You clarify, leaning on him as you try to navigate the handful of steps leading to the hotel.

He’s quiet until you reach the elevator. “My love,” He murmurs, and you grin up at him.

“Mon… mon coeur,” You manage to say, somehow pulling the French phrase out of the dregs of your memory. The words are slurred and you know that you absolutely botch the pronunciation, but the intent is clear. You may have lived in France since you were 18, but learning the language wasn’t a requirement when almost everyone knew english as well. But the two of you had spent many hours watching Pierre’s favorite french films over the years; some of it must have unintentionally rubbed off on you.

A disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “How do you even know what that means?”

You shrug. “Just do.” The elevator doors open and you step out, Pierre following. You halt, not knowing which hall to take. You glance up at your companion for help, only to find him staring back at you. “What?”

He shakes his head and leads you down the corridor to his room. It's a spacious corner suite, with huge windows facing Silverstone that give him a perfect view of the track. You make for the window but Pierre’s hand on your wrist stops you.

“I don’t think so, it’s time for you to sleep.”

“But I just wanna see,” You protest weakly.

“Nice try. I know you. You’ll sit in front of that window for hours if I let you.”

You give in only because he was right. Cityscapes of any kind drew your attention like a moth to a flame. You pouted anyway, but let him take you to the bedroom. Gentle pressure on your shoulders had you sinking into the plush mattress, groaning at the luxurious softness. Pierre laughs as he helps you out of your shoes and jeans, leaving the hoodie.

Eyelids drooping, you climb under the covers Pierre had pulled back for you. He tucks you in and kisses your temple. You grab for him, tugging on his shirt until he stoops down and gives you a proper kiss. When he steps out of your grasp, you panic.

“Stay,” You mumble, fear bubbling in your chest. He had to stay, he couldn’t leave, not when you only had this one night left-

“I’m just taking off my shoes,” He assures you, his weight sliding in behind you to settle against your back. You sigh, moulding yourself to him as best you could. Being in his arms was somehow familiar, even if he’d never held you like this. It felt like home.

“Pierre?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Pillowy soft lips press to the nape of your neck. “I love you too, mon coeur.”

Tagging: @flashcal

[peralta-guaranteed]

can you write something base on this incorrect quote? https://burnonyou.tumblr.com (stealing anons idea)

Amy's questioning "Babe?" called into the dark, but definitely populated apartment (the randomly thrown shoes and leather jacket over the dining chair are a dead give away) is only answered by a deep groan from the bedroom, one that sounds muffled through pillows, so she's not surprised when she finds Jake face-down on the mattress.

What's confusing is that he's still fully dressed, and clearly not trying to get to sleep, his hands balling up the blanket underneath him in frustration as he barely lifts his head when she sits down next to him and starts sifting through his curls.

"What happened?" Amy asks, and he lets out another groan.

"I am the most embarassing person in the world."

"Sometimes, yes." She smiles, because she can tell despite all the signs that this isn't as much of an episode as it seems. She knows him by now - knows how to read his overplayed shock and drama from the actual hurt and sorrow he hides so well. "What did you do?"

"I ran into Holt at the coffee shop, and he was reading this book, and I recognised it from your nightstand, so I asked him about it." Jake still mumbles into the pillow, and Amy almost forgets to listen as she feels a jolt of excitement about the knowledge that she and the Captain are currently delving deep into the same philosophical treatise she's been devouring after work.

"That doesn't sound embarassing."

"No, but he was like, really getting into it. I thought I'd get a short comment with five words I don't understand like always, but he started explaining it and talking about the last chapter and stuff, and then I was sitting down with him with my coffee and he just kept talking."

"Babe, that all sounds nice." Amy busies herself with one of Jake's longer curls, ignoring the tiniest bit of jealousy that Jake got Holt to 'geek out' over a book she herself was reading, but she could remedy that easily by mentioning it during their next meeting or something. She'd get her moment too.

"It was. It was really nice. We had, like, a whole moment. I kinda got into the book too. Because he liked it so much. It was cool."

Jake sighs, deeply, and Amy feels him tense under her hand.

"And then I called him dad."

"You've done that before, it's not that bad. I think he finds it more funny than embarassing."

"No, but this was different." Jake finally turns around, curls into a little ball as he presses his face against her thigh, and she resumes scratching along his temple down to his neck. "It was like, really personal. Way too much. Like, there was this moment, and then I went and did the stupid emotional baggage thing, and it ruined it all."

Amy can only smile as she imagines her Golden Retriever boyfriend in all his excited, tail-wagging happiness intently listening to Holt explaining something, getting sucked into the story as much as he always does when someone is really passionate about something. She sees them in that coffee shop she knows so well - Holt always sits in the same corner, too - talking and nodding and spurning each other on, and something tells her that there's nothing embarassing or moment-ruining about Jake's word association blunder. Not that it really was one - the few ‘Dad’s that have escaped him before where more mindless than anything, but she knows well enough that they were all meant with the same feeling, even if Jake wouldn’t be too happy to admit it to himself or anyone else.

"I really don't think you messed up, Jake." She tries to gently calm him. "It sounds like it fit the moment, anyway."

Jake only groans again as he presses his face even harder against her jeans.

-*-

“Raymond?” Kevin asks with hesitation, having found no trace of his husband in the kitchen or the dining room, where he’d usually expect to find him at this hour of the evening. But he’s been enarmored with the book he’d recommended to him a week ago, and so it is not quite as surprising to find him in the reading room. What is surprising is that he is not reading, the mentioned tome lying on the desk beside him instead, Cheddar at his feet, and his face in a clear state of a very hard to read emotion.

“Are you alright?”

Holt’s initial reaction is to apologise, as he is won’t to do when he’s bothering someone with an emotional outburst, until he remembers that he’s facing his husband, the only person in the world who he’s not ashamed to be emotional in front of, so he only shakes his head.

“I am afraid you will find me quite a mess tonight, Kevin.”

“What happened?” Kevin kneels down to pet Cheddar, who has dutifully trodded over to him for greetings, but not taking his eyes off of Holt, who sighs.

“Peralta met me at the coffee shop today, during my usual after work coffee break before the drive home.”

“He didn’t upset you, did he?”

“No.” Holt shakes his head, then leans it against his palm, a thinking pose that is rare to see and never fails to incite just the lightest spark of desire in Kevin when he gets to witness his partner so vulnerable and attractive at the same time. “Quite the opposite. He asked me about the book you recommended.”

“He’s surely not reading it.”

“No, it seems that Santiago is.”

“Ah.” Kevin nods as he gets up again, Cheddar returning to his seat at Holt’s slippered feet. That makes far more sense - he’d thought it might interest the young detective, actually, and had been thinking about sending her a message about the book, but then considered that their relationship was not yet at the level where one could simply leave reading recommendations in the other’s email inbox.

“I tried to summarise the book for him in a way he would understand, too, but then-” Holt shakes his head with a huff, almost a smile, and Kevin can’t resist stepping closer to the chair until he can lean against its armrest. “I- I simply lost control, and began talking about it without pause. It is a wonderful read, really. Even Peralta seemed interested - despite my treatise being longer than ten minutes, it kept his attention span.”

“That’s remarkable.” Kevin scoffs only a little, still teetering on his like or dislike of the young man.

“It really was. It felt quite - connecting, in a way. I think people would describe it as ‘being a moment’ between us, if you understand.”

He nods, silently, because he can tell that the big reveal is yet to come, the story of emotions across Holt’s face moving to the finish line - his husband is a wonderful storyteller, but sometimes he does push the act to its limits.

“And then Peralta got lost in his reply to me, as well, and called me Dad.” Holt says in a much quieter voice than before, and Kevin can tell from the slight quiver of his lip that he’s fighting back tears.

“You’ve mentioned him calling you that before.” He tries to be gentle, to not upset him any further, knowing full well that those mentioned situations meant more to Holt than maybe he himself was willing to admit yet.

“Yes, but not- I think not in this way.” Holt presses a finger to his lips for a second, as if he’s searching for the right words. “Usually, it seems more like he is forgetting himself when he says it, simply substituting me as an authoritative person for a father figure. But this time, it felt quite... emotional. Like I had been bestowed the title properly.”

Kevin’s hand finds the top of his, laying flat on the armrest between them, and gives it a soft squeeze, barely appropriate now that they’re alone in their own home.

“He looks up to you, Raymond. I wouldn’t be surprised to know that you’ve gained that title quite a while ago.”

He feels his husband take in a sharp breath, and lets go of his hand immediately.

“And I think you’d suit the title quite well, too. For Jake.”

[makeste]

my long boring post about chapter 293 and Kacchan’s hero name

lmao I think that’s all of them. anyways, so I said I was gonna do a post on this, and so here goes.

first off, I just want to say that people are allowed to not like the name! it’s a completely subjective thing, there’s no right or wrong “it’s good” or “it’s bad.” or rather, there is a right or wrong, and it’s whichever one you think it is. if you think it’s good, you’re right. if you think it’s bad, you’re also right. it’s an opinion, it doesn’t need to be backed up by peer review lol.

that said, here is my own completely subjective opinion: I think “Dynamight” (though please not with the capital “m”, I beg you lol) is a terrific name for him honestly. it’s clever wordplay, it’s a subtle callback/tribute to his favorite hero who is also his inspiration for becoming a hero, and it’s a perfect fit for his chosen aesthetic. it’s honestly great.

and what makes it even better is that at the same time, it is also stupid as fuck lmao. this is a name that encapsulates the duality of man. it’s the perfect metaphor for this boy who think he’s the hottest shit god ever invented, and has no idea that the number of people who take him seriously after interacting with him for more than ten seconds is actually in the single digits. this hero name is the equivalent of an excited puppy ferociously bounding towards a squirrel only to trip over its own feet and fall flat on its face. it thinks it is scary as fuck, and has no idea that 30,000 people on TikTok think it’s the most adorable thing they’ve ever seen. I unabashedly love it, and will also ceaselessly roast the everloving shit out of it without the slightest remorse, just like I roast the beloved boy attached to it. that’s just how it is lol.

so that’s how I feel about the name! however, this next part I need to emphasize: my opinion of the name, and my opinion of whether or not I actually think this will be his name, are two different things. I like the name Dynamight. I really do. and I also think there is next to no chance that this will actually be his hero name.

here’s the thing. this would have been a perfect name for him if it had been his chosen name back in chapter 45 when everyone else picked their aliases. it would have fit in seamlessly with the rest of his class. Red Riot, Chargebolt, Earphone Jack, Sugarman, Uravity; those are all names that stick in your mind and look great on official merch. those are names that sell action figures, but they also do a great job of representing the individuals behind the names. they have personality. and so does “Dynamight”, for sure.

but the thing is, for whatever reason, Horikoshi didn’t have him pick this name back in chapter 45. he went with a running gag instead. “King Explosion Murder”, “Lord Explosion Murder”, and so forth. and in the end, we never got a hero name at all. he could have had him pick Dynamight after we’d had our laughs. hell, he could have used it as an early easter egg hinting at Kacchan’s admiration for All Might, which wouldn’t be officially revealed until the final exam arc about twenty chapters later. “Dynamight” in Japanese is written out in katakana -- ダイナマイト (“dainamaito”). this is the word that’s used in Japan for actual dynamite. there is no inherent indicator that it’s a pun; it just so happens that the “mite” in dynamite is spelled out phonetically in Japanese the exact same way that “might” is. so the pun isn’t obvious unless you know to look for it. Horikoshi could have left us all thinking that “Dynamite” was his name until chapter 62 or thereabouts when he revealed that Katsuki looked up to All Might, at which point Horikoshi could finally reveal the official English spelling and it would be like a second name reveal. which would have been pretty sweet, actually.

but my point being, for some reason he instead chose not to do this. instead he chose to drag it all out for 250 chapters, content to let us all languish. this man had not a shred of mercy for the thousands of Bakugou fans who were all “please, sir, the fic,” before eventually giving up and adopting Ground Zero as the official-unofficial name until we either got a real reveal or died of old age. he dragged it out, and kept it as a gag, and eventually it was just like, fine, whatever.

and then this happened.

and it changed everything.

because you see, all of a sudden “Bakugou’s Hero Name” wasn’t just a running joke gag plot anymore. in the span of three sentences, Horikoshi changed the entire meaning of it. “your hero name represents your desires. the embodiment of how you wish to be. your ideal self.”

just like that, the whole mystery of “what will Bakugou’s hero name be” goes from being a funny little ongoing thing to an existential question, with the implication being that the choice he finally makes, whatever it may be, will in essence reveal the very core of his character. “your ideal self.” in other words this will really be almost the pinnacle of his entire character arc. his hero name, when he finally picks it, will show us just how far he’s come. it will show us his answer to “what kind of person do you want to be.”

that is an insane amount of meaning to suddenly dump onto something that up until this point had just been a funny little running gag. “lol Bakugou loves murder and death.” “lol at this rate Bakugou will graduate while still not having an actual hero name.” from that, to suddenly out of the blue, “Bakugou’s hero name will show us who he is as a person.” like, holy shit though. and mind you, this isn’t something that’s been done for any other character. this is very Bakugou-specific. all this build-up and significance has been ascribed to his hero name specifically. at this point his name is basically its own fucking plot. it’s literally its own individual little arc. all of that build-up. all of that meaning and importance given to it.

and then Horikoshi goes and gives us this.

so. like... okay, I guess??

like, just some quick things of note here though:

he is still doing the whole “explosive destruction murder” thing on top of the “Dynamight” part. indicating that there has not been the slightest bit of thoughtful consideration actually given on his part. literally the one thing that everyone and their mom was trying to explain to him not to do, and all of it went in one ear and out the other. which is fine!! he is adorable here and I want to ruffle his hair, honestly. but it’s clear to me that he still hasn’t grasped what Jeanist was trying to explain to him before, if this is really his answer to “what would you consider to be your ideal self” lol.

the name is INSTANTLY panned by every single person in the surrounding vicinity, villains included. hell, Mirio might as well have stabbed him all over again. obviously this is intentionally being used as a lighthearted moment to briefly give the audience a breather before we wade back into the Todoroki drama; but at the same time it indicates that this name isn’t exactly going to be taken seriously by anyone who hears it in-universe. they are literally wincing upon hearing it skjlklhkgf.

lastly, none of the people closest to him -- Deku, All Might, Kirishima, or Shouto -- are even there to hear it. all of that build-up, all of that “Kacchan’s hero name will show us how far he’s come in his character development”, and then when it finally happens, the people who have had the most impact aren’t even there to partake in the moment. Shouto and Deku are busy dealing with an entirely separate plot and trying very hard not to be set on fire while Kacchan is out here providing comic relief.

because that’s really what this is, though. this is a joke. like, I don’t mean that in a pejorative sense; I mean that it is literally a joke. and so what you’re telling me is, if this really is his hero name, we waited 250 chapters and Horikoshi built up an entire character arc around it, only to have the end result be a joke panel that in the end was arguably not even the biggest thing that happened in the chapter.

like, idk, maybe there’ll be a flashback about it later after all’s said and done which will imbue it with more meaning as some have suggested. maybe Horikoshi will explain how it’s a childhood throwback name that Deku once picked for him, like that theory that’s been making the rounds. I’m not saying it won’t be possible to build on this after the fact. but it will be after the fact, all the same. as far as the initial reveal goes... this is it. the epitome of anticlimactic. a brief joke reveal mid-fight where everyone immediately goes “are you fucking serious” and he’s all “I WAS FUCKING SERIOUS” and falls down out of comedy lmao.

and so, to wrap this post up finally, basically the way I see it is that there are two possibilities here. either (1) I have been way overthinking this from day one and it was never really that deep and Horikoshi thought this would be an appropriate and funny conclusion to a plotline which in his mind was always meant to be mostly lighthearted, with the Jeanist stuff mostly just thrown in there to push Bakugou into picking an at least halfway-decent name in spite of himself.

or, (2) this isn’t going to be his final hero name either. this is instead the last hurrah of the “Lord Explosion Murder” part of that plotline, and after he’s laughed out of the room yet again he will mope and cross out this one as well, and Horikoshi will sit on it for another 500 chapters until he finally reveals it at the very fucking end of the series. like at this point I wouldn’t put it past him to wait until the very last page. I s2g, this man. but the flipside of it is that when that moment finally does happen, I fully believe it will be a moment that actually feels earned. it will feel right. it will feel like the moment we spent all that time waiting for. or at least that’s what I hope.

so anyway, those are my thoughts on it! tl;dr, while I like Dynamight as a hero name in and of itself, I don’t think it’s going to be endgame, mostly because nothing about that reveal moment actually felt right to me. and of course, it’s very possible that I’m completely wrong about this; it wouldn’t be the first time (Kacchan’s quirk says hello). but on the other hand fandom isn’t totally batting a thousand either (Ground Zero says what up), so hey. we’ll see!

[wishingicouldfly]

I've been actively blogging for more than six months, even though I've had a tumblr account for ten years. I started reading One Direction (specifically Larry) fanfiction about the same time.

Originally, I read exclusively canon compliant fiction--I was hungry for industry insider, what-could-have-happened narratives. But I've slowly branched out into other genres. I find fanfic--good fanfic--super calming. When I've had too much stunting, too much noise, I grab a fanfic and immerse myself. So I thought it was time to do a post about my favorites. Keep in mind, I'm terrible at cataloging, and I have over 150 bookmarks on my A03 Account, so this is by no means an exhaustive list.

I'm not including the classics like Tired, Tired Sea and Escapade. While I do love both of those (so well written), because a lot of people know about those already.

My all time favorites are by @helloamhere

1. The Multipicity of Powers - https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580229

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

//an X-Men AU.

Me: I never thought I'd love a super hero 1D cross over, but this is so well done. The backstory, the pacing, the characterization, the friendship. Read it.

2. Saving Symphony Hall and it's prequel Night Out - https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633921

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

Me: The best sex scene I've ever read is in the prequel Night Out. Sexy, but tender. I love the characterizations in this duo--ABO but not traditional. Doesn't feel out of character.

3. Just Let Me -https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695350

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

Me: I love love love this. Harry is so gentle, and Louis is so stubborn and needy. It's ABO but subtle. I'll read this one again and again. It's comforting.

@HelloAmHere is one of the best writers I know--amazing stuff. I also love their werewolf story, but it's not finished, so I won't link it here.

Other favorites:

1. Seven Up by cherrystreet - https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828539

Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse.

Me: Trigger Warning, major character death. I literally SOBBED through the end of this. It was lovely and devastating. So good. But be warned.

2. Light, Spark and Fire series by @greenfeelings

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Louis and Zayn run a music label, Liam is Britain’s up-and-coming pop star, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down until he builds his own up, and Niall holds them all together without realising he does.

Me: A nice healthy three-parter. Characters you just want to live with for a while.

3. Relief Next to Me by dolce_piccante - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117942

AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

Me: This one is super long, so be prepared when you dive in. It's got a lot of lovely bits, and some great smut.

4. 2012 'Verse by ashavahishta - https://archiveofourown.org/series/27601

Me: This is a five-parter and satisfies my love of canon compliant stories. It spans most of 2012 and into 2013, and illustrates the difficulties of Harry and Louis' relationship amid the band success and management disapproval.

5. Love After the End of the World by mercurial-madhouse (writing_practice) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/31251434/chapters/77248901

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

Me: Really unusual (as far as I can tell) end of the world story. I loved the characterizations of soul mates here at the end of the world.

6. Flightless Bird by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401653/chapters/14656807

AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?

Me: Trigger Warning, sexual assault (by an original character to a major character). This was a little brutal because I hated to see a broken Harry, but it was well written and has a happy ending.

7. Wear It Like A Crown by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816771/chapters/3900322

AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.

Me: I loved Louis in this one--actually they are both pretty great. Scratch that, they are ALL pretty great.

8. Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331958/chapters/7285322

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Me: I don't like the self-hate here, but it was necessary for the story and H comes around. Found family vibe.

9. Gods & Monsters by Velvetoscar - https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

Me: I loved Harry in this one. Louis gets there. I don't like Liam, but I don't think you're supposed to. Zayn is great.

10. Own the Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks) - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1010796

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

Me: Harry is lovely in this one. Trigger warning, substance abuse and near death.

11. Wild Love by purpledaisy - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030904

AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

Me: I loved this way more than I thought I would. It's lovely and messy and I love it.

12. Victorian Boy by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosann1986/readings?page=6

Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

Me: Historical fiction I didn't intend to love. I LOVE Harry in this one. LOTS of smut, so be warned.

13. Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30752633

Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.

Me: lovely, protective Louis just trying to do the right thing.

14. Turning Page by purpledaisy for SockstheDog

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826345

AU: Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been.  Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other.

Me: sweet love story. Niall owns a bar, and is pretty great.

15. Freedom Always Comes With a Price by Cyantific - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30278514/chapters/74624262

A shared dream brings them together onto the X-factor stage, but one decision changes Harry and Louis’ lives overnight. Thrust into a world of instant stardom, they're forced to live a lie to sustain their dreams, but years of living in the shadows and under strict management takes its toll.

With the bands impending hiatus, there’s no better time for change, so they think.

Desperate for a solution, they turn to an unlikely source with a radical plan. An unfortunate accident sets everything in motion, but not how they intended, leaving Louis’ memories altered, Harry broken-hearted and full of regret.

Can Harry figure out a way to fix everything? Will he even want to once he sees how Louis moved on after the hiatus? Will Louis ever find out the truth of their past and can he forgive Harry after all this time?

In the end, two friends find out that memories are elusive, trust is everything and love is the only antidote.

Me: Heartbreaking when they lose each other, but really good in the end.

16. Little Technicolor Things by scary_crow - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025519/chapters/13821628

Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.

17. Hold You Now by solvetheminourdreams - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30253536/chapters/74556744

Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.

Me: Niall is great. They almost miss each other in this one, and you just want to bash them over the head. But they figure it out.

18. At Risk, I Fold by clare328 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542480

2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.

Me: A canon compliant fic that feels like it could have really happened. Set in 2015. Lovely first chapter and scene where Harry writes If I Could Fly--i could read that chapter over and over.

19. Into The Blue by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035822/chapters/2065499

AU. In which Louis is Harry's scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can't be all that difficult to convince Harry that they're on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.

Me: AKA the Scuba fic.

20. Tie Your Heart by ArcadianMaggie - https://archiveofourown.org/works/546688/chapters/973236

Harry grows wings.

Me: How can you not love a fic where Harry grows wings? Trigger warning: injury of a major character.

21. I think I'll end this here. My last and probably first favorite (read it more than once) is...

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach - https://archiveofourown.org/works/934996/chapters/1820282

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.

Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

Me: I LOVED the Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, and I'm a huge fan of time travel, so this is right up my alley. It's really well done, weaving canon into fantasy and then going years forward in tme. I love everything about it. Great character development. Really good smut. Trigger warning, there's a little underage sex, so be aware. Anyway, LOVE this one so much.

I'll add to this but it's already longer than I meant it to be.