#we know he’s so much smarter than anyone gives him credit for but he kept getting ‘apply yourself’

[biblionerd07]

I actually had more sympathy for Jesse’s parents on this rewatch. Like overall they’re not some abusive monsters who never cared about him. They very obviously DO care about him. Their house felt safe enough to Jesse that he went there when the meth had him feeling paranoid and strung out. When Jesse calls his dad after being questioned by the DEA he mentions getting a job “in data entry, like we talked about”, and Jesse’s mom says “I can’t do this again”, and Jake says Jesse’s all they ever talk about, so they’re obviously in a cycle of trying to help Jesse and seeing him go back to drugs. It’s easy for us to kind of forget the ramifications, because of the scope of the show and because we love Jesse and are seeing his POV and definitely because Aaron Paul’s teeth and skin are nice lol, but Jesse is addicted to crystal meth. And he’s SELLING crystal meth! This is not just weed. It’s a pretty big fucking deal. And his parents talk about getting him help, and they let him come inside and sleep and eat a few meals and wash his clothes. Maybe you could consider that the bare minimum, but it is something. When Hank is talking to Jesse’s mom, she’s not dismissive of Jesse or uncaring. She’s obviously very sad about the state of Jesse’s life, and when she starts to clock that Hank’s investigating Jesse, she gets protective and makes Hank leave. They evicted Jesse from his aunt’s house, but to give them a bit of grace, his mom did find his literal meth lab in the basement lmao. Which they threatened to tell the DEA about but never actually did. They seem to be in that place with an addict where you’re trying to balance giving support without enabling; his dad even says they need to try tough love. (Personally I think it shows they don’t really know Jesse all that well because tough love is not the right method for him, but they probably feel like they’ve tried everything else.) When Jesse’s talking about that perfect box he made in shop, his initial lie is that he gave it to his mom, and when he tells the truth it’s clear he really regrets that he didn’t actually do that. In El Camino, I really think they want him to turn himself in because they think he’ll be safer and maybe they think he’ll get some leeway if he turns himself in rather than getting caught. It doesn’t seem like they call the cops when he calls and asks them to come get him; they rush out right away and all the police are in regular, unmarked cars.

But….

I can never give them grace or forgive them for that car decal that was Mom, Dad, and Jake but no Jesse. Like what the hell is that?? And it seems absolutely outrageous to me that his parents, with everything that happened between them and everything they’re seeing on the news, took the opportunity to talk to him and only said “turn yourself in.” No “I love you.” No “be safe.” His dad saying they hadn’t talked to him in a long time, since “way before all this” really rankled, too. They purposefully distanced themselves from him. They made sure to say on the news that they’re not involved in this because they’re not in his life. I really do think they cared and were scared for him. But at every turn it just seemed like they didn’t care enough to actually understand what he needed or how to get through to him.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

Escape Is Mandatory

platonic Spencer Reid x geniusbau!reader | part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Summary: prison changed Spencer, and along with it were a couple of horrible choices bau!reader refused to tolerate, hence a threat to their years of friendship. But all of it disappeared as soon as an unsub threatened your life.

Warning: details of death, violence, and infidelity; curse word(s)

A/N: I can't believe it has been over a year since I posted this mini-series (me just disappearing out of nowhere, lol). This draft has been sitting for a year. I never published it because it felt boring (I still do, somehow), but I wanted to celebrate the series reaching a year old HAHA! Anywaysss, as usual, this might be heavy, so be mindful when reading. It's not my gif; credits to the owner :)

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

Luther Gerard grinned maniacally, leaning against his seat, "Let me guess... sister? Oh, but she's too pretty to be related to you." His cuffed hand caressed your picture on the table, "Lover, perhaps?"

Spencer's jaw clenched, "Where. Is. She?" His palms were itchy, breathing steadily as he kept them flat on the table.

This unsub was unlike any other serial killer he had encountered. Luther Gerard, age 38, is an average plumber but one hell of a genius, almost as dangerously intelligent as Spencer, with 186 IQ.

Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He was terrified to the bone. Because this time, the unsub had 83.248% outsmarting him, and the victim was you.

"Anyone wanna hear how I picked her up?" Luther glanced at the two-sided mirror, chuckling, "I'll take the silence as a yes."

He looked at Spencer straight in his eyes, "It was dim, but not too much. She was 40 feet away from the precinct entrance... 15 from you. She looked pretty mad when she turned her back, but she looked so hurt walking away. I can remember her tears. Oh, they were sweet and just a little salty. She knew I was there for her. She was going to scream for you. But what can I say? She was a second too slow. I was going to get your attention but she looked so good unconscious in my arms."

"You sick son of a bitch—"

It took Luke, Matt, and three police officers to hold Spencer back. His face was red, and Luke swore he was breathing fire. His knuckles were white as he grabbed Luke's shirt and a bit of the skin on Matt's arm.

Spencer escaped from being pinned by five people with minimal struggle, grabbing Luther's collar to the point of suffocation. "Where the hell is she?! Tell me where!"

Luther laughed out loud, watching as Spencer crumbled into an angry mess. "Listen here, Dr. Reid... you can be a point smarter than me as long as you can, but she will always be two points dumber than me. She'll die in that fucking warehouse."

Emily barged into the interrogation room, "Reid." She gestured at Matt to take him out of the room, leaving Luke to get the answers they'd been looking for the past five hours.

Spencer aggressively shrugged Matt's hands on his shoulders, "I can walk," His voice grew a little softer than seconds ago, but his tone still crunched with anger.

As soon as the door shut, Spencer turned to Emily, "She's dying out there."

"You're not the only one who's worried. She's our friend, too, you know. But we won't find her if you let your emotions take over you." Emily took a deep breath, giving him a concerned look.

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair, "I'm not worried. I'm scared." He dropped his head, letting a cruel sigh pass his shivering lips.

Despite his attempt to reinsert himself in the interrogation room, Emily forbade him from coming in contact with the unsub for the rest of the evening. So, he stood next to JJ in the conference room, trying to save you in the best way he knew how: geographic profiling.

"I should've known," Spencer mumbled under his breath.

JJ turned to him, "Did you find something?" She scanned the board in front of them, hoping that she'd see what Spencer was seeing.

Spencer loosened his tie, "The victims. The location. I should've figured it out the moment we briefed about the case. It should've clicked." He guiltily looked at JJ, "I should've kept her safe."

"Spence," JJ spoke motherly. "None of us knew she was the target. You have to know that none of this is your fault." She gave him a kind look, something he knew well to differ whether it was out of pity or genuine compassion.

"But it is my fault..." He averted his eyes from her. He couldn't bear to look at anyone in their eyes, much less the thought of yours, filled with tears from his stupidity.

JJ's eyebrows gently knitted, "Did something happen the last time you saw her?"

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

2 days ago...

The afternoon's fifth hour barely struck, yet the sky was already dark. The lampposts around the precinct were enough light to at least keep you and Spencer from tripping.

None of you have said a word for the past three minutes. You even missed Emily's nod. Both of you were too occupied to care. You: with the obscene sight you just witnessed and the burning itch to smack the back of his head. Spencer: with whatever internal conflict he was going through after coming back from prison, he refused to talk to anyone about.

With every step away from the might as well named crime scene, your lips slowly unfastened. Spencer had barely clicked the SUV's key when you began.

"She's married."

"She's unhappily married."

Your eyebrows clashed, "That's not an excuse, Reid. Your wrinkly brain knows that."

"Can't you just mind your own business?" Spencer rolled his eyes, treating your conversation lighter than you wanted him to.

"I would have if only you did," You looked at him with utter disbelief. No amount of blinking would erase the sight forever etched in the back of your curse of a photographic memory. "Her unhappy marriage was her business. That was her and her husband's business."

Spencer was growing impatient with you. The signs were easy to catch. His knotted forehead. Thoughtless glare. Clenched hands deep in his pockets. An obvious Spencer-is-pissed-at-you special tell.

He straightened his back, "I was just helping her out."

"Holy shit—" You scoffed a baffled chuckle, "Are you hearing yourself? Adultery and sympathy are not the same, Reid. What the hell has gotten into your head?"

Ordinary people wouldn't have cared. Luke and Matt would disagree and judge Spencer's stupid choices but would've kept their mouths shut. Emily and David would spit a bit of advice on how morally wrong he was, but they would have minded their own business for the most part. Tara would've been disgusted but refused to get herself involved. JJ and Penelope would have been utterly disappointed and angry at him, but they wouldn't have missed a chance to make up with him.

You, however, felt nauseatingly repugnant. Years of friendship felt like a thin layer of ice loudly breaking. He knew most of your uninteresting and failed romance. How often has he lent you a back to bury your face on? The number of times he's caught not two but four of your short-term lovers shamelessly cheating. He knew well enough, too much even.

"You know what I think?" He chuckled evilly. And you knew then he was aiming for your throat. "I think you're just jealous because you don't have the aptitude to get over your dead boyfriend."

Your jaw dropped. You half-expected him to say those words, but it still surprised you. It still stung. Your tears were fighting to flow, but you had enough self-respect to not do it before him, not with his shitty attitude, at least.

You gripped the hem of your blazer, "You're a jerk. That's what you are." You took a sharp breath, biting the overflowing ache on your chest. "Come back when you've got something for the case."

A second didn't pass after you turned your back on him, and the tears immediately trailed down your face. You walked out of the parking lot as fast as you could. Crying in front of your childhood classmates felt more gratifying than in front of Spencer.

Wiping the unwanted tears from your cheeks, your feet came to a halt without warning. Something about the fifteen-foot distance from Spencer's back and the forty-foot gap from the entrance to the precinct left you terrifyingly vulnerable.

Your gears began turning.

Victims were awfully close to your build.

You're in your hometown.

And it clicked a second too late.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

"Spence!" JJ gently shook Spencer back to reality. As soon as she knew he was back down to earth, she immediately spoke, "They found another body—"

Spencer flew out of the door before JJ could even finish speaking. He went to Luke, who was on his way to one of the SUVs. "Where?" He asked in a rush. His heart was beating right in his ear. A series of negative thoughts filled his head.

Luke had a few seconds to tell Spencer where the said body was but quickly interrupted Spencer's thoughts. "We don't know anything yet, Reid."

"But what if it's her?" Spencer snapped. He had little patience for anyone. All he knew was how important it was to see a body that's not you.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

"Fuck!" You cried in a shattered voice.

Tears flowed nonstop down your face, along with your own blood dripping from the top of your horribly bandaged head. Luther Gerard was evil enough to let you bleed slowly to death.

Unbeknownst to him, you were the most stubborn person in the entire BAU team. You bled your way out of the place he locked you in, cursing the pain off your chest.

You have been loosening the barbwire wrapped around your feet with your bare hands for the past hour. Your hands and your feet had gotten skinned off from the sharp metal.

Hope was on your side, though, as you felt your left foot painfully slide off the wrap. You cried out in joy, holding your ankles tight as if the pain would immediately dissipate.

You wiped your tears off your face, smearing blood from your palm onto your skin. You laughed, already delirious from lack of blood. "I'm going to break your neck once I find you. Then I'll beat the hell out of Reid for taking his goddamn time."

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer felt relief wash over him as soon as he glanced at the lifeless woman being pulled out of the creek. It may have been messed up that he was thankful a different woman died, but he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

He and Luke drove back to the precinct with a little less tense chests. They may not have found you, but the fact that you weren't the body they found meant one thing. You were still alive. That's all that mattered.

"We'll find her," Luke broke the silence between them, glancing at Spencer from his peripheral. "She's stubborn. She won't let anyone hurt her without punching back. She's probably on her way back to the precinct." He attempted to lighten the mood.

Spencer took a deep breath, "She better be." He looked outside of the car, biting his lower lip. "She has to escape wherever she is. It's mandatory. I'm not letting her die without finishing our argument."

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

It's been two days of searching every nook and cranny of your little hometown, but the team hasn't gotten anywhere in finding you.

Each member was exhausted, especially Spencer. He hasn't gotten a wink of sleep. He couldn't even if he tried to.

They were running out of ideas. But like every single cases the BAU team had, you knew how to turn things around. Their wake snapped up as gasps echoed in the entire precinct.

The team rushed to see the commotion and almost burst into tears as soon as they saw you.

"Oh my god..." JJ whimpered under her breath as she clasped her mouth.

You stood there by the entrance, bloodied up and half-conscious. You held the door's handle tight, painting it with your dirty blood as it kept you up on your feet. They could barely recognize your face from the mixture of blood and dirt on your face.

Despite your pitiful, bloodied state, you managed to show them your temper. "You better have caught that bastard." You growled weakly.

Your body was shaking from exhaustion. Just as you slipped out of consciousness, Spencer rushed to catch your body.

Tara called for a medic while Emily went to your aid. Luke and Matt went straight to work things out and give Gerard the worst news he's ever going to receive: it turns out you weren't as dumb as he wanted you to be.

Spencer gently wiped your face with his sleeve. He didn't care if it was his favorite shirt. All he cared about was how his best friend stubbornly stayed alive.

When Emily sat next to him to keep you off the floor, she saw just how much your friendship meant to Spencer. She squeezed his shoulder, "She's back safe with us, Reid. She'll be alright."

Her words prompted Spencer's sobs, tears trickling onto your face in hopes that it would wash the hell you went through for the past days. He quickly wiped them off, though. He knew well enough how you'd react to his 'filthy tears' coming in contact with your skin.

"Yeah, you better clean it off," You mumbled with your eyes closed, gripping the hem of his cardigan vest. You couldn't let yourself pass out, knowing you had a severe wound on your head.

Spencer choked a laugh, "Took you long enough. I thought I would have to save your ass." He sniffed as he let the paramedics transfer you onto a crash cart.

You scoffed, turning into a short series of coughs. "Just admit it. You can't figure things out without my brain power. Your brain's getting smooth, Reid. Prodigy no more."

The team couldn't help but roll their eyes at you and Spencer's banter, bouncing back faster than your recovery. Although they hated to admit it, they preferred the two of you that way rather than apart.

"I'm glad you're safe..." Spencer's voice became softer. Somehow, he couldn't stop himself from tearing up. This was the second time he'd cried nonstop. The first time being the love of his life's death.

He was glad this time wasn't due to someone important's death. He didn't know how he'd handle it if the person he could always rely on would leave him of this world.

As you were dragged into the ambulance, you gave all the rest of your strength to glare at Spencer. "Don't think you're off the record. After I deal with Gerard, you're next."

"Is it mandatory?" He sarcastically stated, jumping into the ambulance the moment you were settled in. He couldn't bear to leave you out of his sight.

[lutawolf]

Well, my KinnPorsche notes and thoughts kept getting longer and longer. So one blog became irrational. Here is the link to my 1-3 episode blog if you haven't read it and are interested. Now moving on to epi 4.

Episode 4 notes and thoughts.

How did Porsche make it off the pier and to his room. Clearly not by Kinn himself so there had to have been some sober people around. That gives credit to my belief there were other guards as back up. Just not visible.

It looks like I'm going to have to take back my statement about the kiss not meaning love on Kinn's part. The way he is reminiscing about the kiss sure indicates he is falling hard and fast. I mean from my previous notes, I felt that Kinn was getting there but damn.

Can we talk about the vulnerability on Kinn's face after reminiscing? He looks scared. Is he scared of being vulnerable? Or is he scared of how Porsche is going to react about the kiss?

I love that they kept a jealous Kinn. In general, I like a little jealousy when it's logical. This is helpful in giving a deeper look into a characters feelings. Kinn is on unsure ground with Porsche and knows it. He doesn't want anyone else to have Porsche but he has no rights as of yet.

Vegas you are a smooth, smooth liar. Everyone saw how upset you were about your brother.

Kinn's face when Porsche says "If he talks to me nicely, I'll talk nicely to him"

Hey look, we called one! Kinn was concerned about how Porsche was going to react about the kiss. Side Note: the fucking convo was to die for funny.

Arm comes and gets Porsche before he even knows there is an issue with Khun. When they show up to Khuns, Arm asks what's wrong and *then* he finds out Khun is missing. Was he rescuing him from Kinn?

What fucking idiots. I say this with nothing but love. Did he really look under the blanket on the ottoman for a grown ass man. Crackheads the bunch of them!

Again I want to point out how Porsche is allowed to treat Khun completely different then the other bodyguards. He literally covered his mouth! Yet he was brushed off like he was a sibling.

I love these crackheads. What a lovely bunch of coconuts. Porsche is absolutely leading them astray and yet they are following him. Are they even aware that they treat him slightly different. Is it because Khun treats Porsche differently and they see how much Porsche is allowed to get away with? Hmm, I think so.

I like how they gave deeper meaning to Porsche's tattoo. Originally it wasn't that deep but this was a nice touch that better fits with who Porsche is. I also like how easily he opens up to Kinn about it. A month ago he would have spouted some bullshit but after the choking incident, he is giving more of himself away to Kinn.

Why did Porsche's mom say he couldn't die before his little brother finished his degree? She clearly knew that she wouldn't have a long life. What made her think Porsche might not either?

Porsche's tone when he thought Kinn was leaving. I honestly don't think Porsche knows he has feelings for Kinn. He's just subconsciously doing all these things.

Kinn, we saw what you did there. Purposely putting yourself in a position to sit closer to Porsche. Ain't nobody but Porsche fooled.

That side look Kinn gives before asking about a gf. 🤣🤣🤣

No Porsche you haven't seen him with any girls but you took his rent boy home. We know you are smarter than this. I'm just going to assume you are fishing too. You are just smoother than Kinn.

Oh yes, he is smooth. He slid those insults right in without batting an eyelash.

I fucking love it! Stare and move in close. The hopefull look on Kinn's face and then the crotch landing. Not exactly what Kinn was hoping for but he is still smiling.

That jump Pete gives when Vegas' hand lands on his shoulder.

Kinn how are you so aware of Porsche? You know where he is and with whom at all times huh.

If you watch closely the crackhead couple already knew that Kinn was going to sit next to Porsche.

Porsche, you the only clueless person at the table. Nope, not so clueless. When Vegas gives him that meat he looks right at Kinn. He knows vegas is purposely trying to bother kinn.

Look at the faces of the crackhead couple when Kinn says "No". They are concerned about the tension but not surprised that Kinn said no.

Dude, Porsche is pissed that Kinn talked about him like that.

No subtle warning there. "I don't like people getting into my business" as in, leave Porsche the fuck alone. My dude, you completely gave yourself away to everyone but Porsche.

Khun. I adore you. The way you hit Vegas. Everyone jumped but Kinn. I don't think Khun just dislikes Vegas. I mean yeah he dislikes the second family but more than that, he is very protective of Kinn. No insult toward Kinn will be taken lightly. What I'm curious about is if he was being protective of Porsche as well?

I think so. If you notice when he is talking and says "guys" he looks at Kinn and Porsche but "how could you let him eat with us?" He never looks at Kinn and Porsche. He is pointing and directing all his attention to the other bodyguards.

Kinn tells them to go get Khun. We actually see Pete chase after him. We see the crackhead couple's shadow behind Kinn, chasing after Khun. We do not hear or see Porsche leave though.

I absofuckinglove that Kinn doesn't kiss rent boy. Kisses are something special to him that he reserves. Okay girls and boys, this is a huge fucking clue. Boy knows he is gone for Porsche. Not completely gone or he wouldn't be fucking someone else and well he doesn't completely trust him yet but he is way more than half-way there.

That black underwear is doing nothing for me.

Love that smile on Kinn's face that he is trying so hard to hide. He is so fucking amused by Porsche.

Kinn's facial expressions as he listens to Porsche talk to Big. He fell just a little more. Big you just got yourself on some shit lists.

Ahhhhh, Porsche remembering the kiss. Pete, you killing me. You make valid points though.

Wik?? Is that a play on Kim. Like Ki then flip the W to make an M? So like a reverse mirror. 😏

Kim and Chey are not following the book at all. They've changed Kim's core character. I'm going to be honest and say I'm not a fan. Sorry peeps, don't come at me, I'm personally just not liking the changes and I'm not seeing any chemistry.

There goes Kinn's ability again. The one in which he knows where Porsche is. Also, let's admit a month ago Porsche wouldn't have listened to Kinn. He wouldn't have stood up without more fight not would he have removed his shirt. There is trust developing on his end.

Does Porsche believe that story about Khun being mad about Vegas? I mean honestly, it's a believable story. That fits with Khun but then why only Porsche and not the crackhead couple? I think Porsche believes the story because his face screams hurt. Kinn hurt him with that remark.

Big thinks he is playing the big game here. He is setting Porsche up. Does Kim believe it? He for sure doesn't like Big.

Vegas absolutely does not believe the story about Porsche being given back to Kinn. His face says it all. Also where is Vegas getting his information? Is he talking out his ass or is someone leaking to him? If it's someone leaking it would have to be someone close to Khun huh?

Even Kinn's friends don't believe Kinn's story. Nope, everyone sees the attraction.

Porsche, I keep defending you. Telling everyone that you are smarter than you look. Right now you making us both look like white crayons. 🤦🏻‍♀️

I absofuckinglove that Kinn dropped everything to look for Porsche. There is no part of me that believes he would do this for all of his body guards. Even his friends were confused, which tells you we aren't looking at normal behavior.

Okay, the way they handled this next scene with Vegas gives me hope. It really shows that the show is going in a better direction. It's still going to be morally grey but it's not black like the books.

Big and Ken are completely thrown by Kinn's behavior but Pete and Arm aren't.

Okay, the vomiting scene. Pete and Arm try to get Kinn to let them handle it. Are they bothered that Kinn is dropping his duties instead of letting them handle it or are they just surprised. They look at each other several times. I don't really see surprise. But they are concerned about Kinn taking care of Porsche for some reason.

I absofuckinglove love that Kin just immediately takes responsibility of Porsche with no fucks given. Boy is falling so fucking hard.

When Kinn was talking to the other bodyguards he didn't care. Talking to Porsche though, he is really trying to maintain that facade.

At this point I'm just going to pretend that somehow they rinsed Porsche's mouth out. Like he was so parched from the drugs he drank a pitcher of water. Otherwise, eww.

He kisses him, but watch his reaction when Porsche kisses him. It's a no go. This is actually very Dom. A Dom controls, they aren't controlled.

He is also fighting himself because Porsche is drugged and clearly not 100% himself. Then Porsche very coherently says, "why did you kiss me at the pier then." He is drugged but he also isn't gone. He is coherent enough to communicate, he isn't just laying there like with Vegas. Wait, he didn't just lay there, he fought. He isn't fighting Kinn though. This is absolutely skating a morally grey zone. Kinn knows this, but you can see the moment he goes fuck it. Would he stop if Porsche said to? Absolutely. Porsche is never put in a position where he can't push Kinn away, well, until the deed at least. Porsche is very much an active partner. He is kissing back, giving back, and is actually the one undressing Kinn. Kinn never takes his pants off until Porsche does it for him. For all of us who have been intoxicated, you only getting button/zipper on someone else if you are in the tipsy range. Hell even tipsy I'm not getting my own pants off me.

Okay so the sex scene is a balance of uncomfortable, then extremely sensual, and then combustible. Is it a metaphor for their relationship?

So there are my thoughts and notes for episode 4. As usual I'm open to discussion but don't come at me. Hope you enjoyed, thank you.

[emerald-chaos]

Already Gone

**gif not mine, credit to the owner below!!**

Oh hohohohoho besties. You are in for it on this one. The other night I had an idea that popped into my head and to say I got carried away with it would be a gross understatement. This is the first time I've written smut in forever so bear with me as I get back in to it. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, please feel free to send feedback!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k (oops)

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (MINORS DNI), language, ANGST (holy shit is there angst), fingering, unprotected sex (please be smarter than these two), infidelity, and I think that's about it? Please let me know if I left something off.

A/N: Thanks to my sweet, sweet friend who read through this for me and helped me fix a few things. Also I take the, MINORS DNI, warning very seriously, so please only interact if you are of age. Please have your age in your bio so I can confirm. By clicking "read more" you agree to this. I really don't want to have to block people.

The cacophonous trill of shattering glass erupted through the space. Raised voices, thick with rage, echoed off the walls. It was difficult to tell which words were coming from which mouth, the both of you overlapping as you spewed out hatred toward one another.

“What in God’s name is going on here?!” Steve shouted as he entered the room, coming back from a late night run at the most inopportune time.

“Stay the fuck out of it!” Your two voices shrilled together as you both pointed toward Steve.

You could feel your chest heaving and it almost felt as though you were foaming at the mouth. Rage was completely consuming every crevice of your body and spilling out into your actions and your words. You turned back to the object of your aggression and watched as he ran a hand through his hair and turned to walk away from you.

“You’re nothing but a coward, James Barnes. A goddamn selfish, son-of-a-bitch, coward!” You screamed with every ounce of energy you had left in your body.

The two of you had some knock-down drag-outs in your past, but it was nothing compared to this. Months of pent up feelings, insecurities, jealousies, and secrets were all coming to a head at this very moment. The last few months the two of you had been incredibly short with one another - a stark contrast from your usual loving tone. Passionate kisses became brief pecks to the cheek, midnight roaming hands became backs set to one another, and ‘i love you’s’ felt more like a habit than a genuine feeling. In your heart you feared it would come to this one day. No matter how hard you tried, how much you wanted to, you were never going to be able to fix what had been done to the man you loved. There was no amount of love in the world that could reverse the tragedy of the Winter Soldier - at least that’s what you were convinced of now.

The man in front of you turned and strode across the room, minimizing the space between the two of you. His metal hand in a fist as he brought it up to jab a finger into the middle of your chest. Pupils were blown wide, what was once a lustful look was now filled with only pure anger. As he opened his mouth to speak, spit flew into your face.

“And you are a self-righteous, ignorant, self-important bitch!”

As your eyes raked over the contorted facial features of the man standing in front of you, you realized you couldn’t recognize them. The man standing in front of you was not Bucky. It was not the man who twirled a strand of your hair when he sat with his arm behind your chair, not the man who pulled over the car to help a turtle cross the road, and definitely not the man who held you in his arms as he cried after a nightmare. The man standing in front of you was a frightening enigma of hatred and rage. This was not your Bucky. In fact, you were almost certain you lost your Bucky months ago.

* * *

You hadn’t noticed the bouncing of your knee until the man who sat beside you gently cupped it with his hand, stilling your nervous movements. It was enough to break you from your thoughts as you turned your head to meet his kind eyes.

“We don’t have to do this, you know. I’ll have them turn the car around and we’ll go back to the airport. We catch the next flight back home.” He whispered in reassurance. Even though your mind was anxiously racing, you couldn’t help but smile at the compassionate gesture.

“Of course we do,” you started, cupping his cheek with your hand as the sunlight glinted off your pristine wedding ring, “Tony was one of the most important people in my life. Plus, I’m pretty sure he would haunt me if I didn’t go to his funeral.”

8 years ago you promised yourself in the taxi ride to the airport that you would never step foot in this place again. That all changed when you got the news of Tony’s death. Your time working with the Avengers was a life-changing experience and it was all thanks to Tony. The memory of him seeking you out to work alongside Dr. Banner in the research lab was one that you could never forget. Tony was an arrogant, pompous asshole but he was undeniably a good man. You would curse yourself for the rest of your days if you let your own baggage get in the way of that.

“Alright,” your husband responded with a sigh as he squeezed your knee, “But please, promise you’ll tell me if there’s anything I can do for you.”

“Promise.” An agreement that you sealed with a kiss.

Mike was a good man, he was someone who cared for you deeply and who made you feel safe. After your transfer to the DC Shield Office, you had sworn off any more office romances. Those never ended well. That was until your path crossed with Mike. From the beginning of the relationship, you were upfront about your past issues with relationships and how you weren’t ready to dive into anything and he simply stated that he was okay with that, that he would wait.

The marriage was a happy one, Mike always playing the role of doting, caring husband. No matter how much you pushed back against him, he was always willing to give you space and to let you feel what you were experiencing. Mike was a good man. But he wasn’t him.

Your gaze left his as your eyes returned to the skyline, the familiar pressure clawing its way back to your chest. It’d been 8 years since you saw him. 8 years since you packed your bags and left the only home you’d ever truly known. Sure, you had this new life - a new husband, new friends, new job with similar duties, but there was still a piece of you that was missing. A piece you knew could never possibly be filled again. You had come to terms with that, slowly, but it had happened eventually. Now that you were back, you knew you were going to have to see him again - see all of them again. While a lot of good memories resided within this area, there was a hell of a lot of pain that went along with it. All you could do in that moment was remind yourself that you were here for Tony - to honor his memory and pay your respects. You didn’t owe anything else to anyone else. Something in your chest, however, told you that wouldn’t be the way things played out.

* * *

The service was beautifully executed. It was obvious that Pepper had poured her heart and soul into ensuring that Tony Stark was remembered as he should have been. The walls of your heart tightened as you saw Pepper clutching their young daughter to her side. Although Tony had made a lot of mistakes in his life, he spent his last years making sure to do good and to make things right. While it felt like a hot knife had been stabbed into your chest as you said goodbye to a once dear friend, you took solace in knowing that Tony was so loved by so many. That his legacy would live on in so many different ways. And that Pepper was there to say goodbye.

It had been your plan to attend the service and then leave immediately after it had ended. Of course, life has a funny way of never doing quite what we want it to.

It was Sam who stopped you first, pulling you into a tight hug against his form as your fingers gripped his jacket. Sam, being the angel he was, never once mentioned anything from the past and instead expressed his happiness with seeing you again and learning that you were doing well. The one thing Sam was not good at however, was keeping his mouth shut. Word quickly traveled through the crowd of your attendance and one by one old friends began to find you. Wanda didn’t have much to say but kept you in a grateful embrace while you expressed your condolences for Vision. In a shocking turn of events, It was actually Peter who was the most difficult to see. The once bright, happy-go-lucky, smiling boy was visibly devastated - heavy dark bags lingered under his eyes and his glow had been severely dimmed by the loss of his mentor. You couldn’t help but cry as you held him in your arms, expressing to him how proud of him Tony was and how he’d told you just that on several occasions.

After the hellos, the hugs, and the reminiscing you had told yourself that was it, that you were going to leave. It was then that Pepper stopped you with a soft hand on your shoulder, a kind smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and a warm embrace. After a pause of silence, she pulled away and invited you and Mike to stay for the gathering that had been planned following the service. Your mind screamed at you, begging you to politely decline - tell her you had to get back to DC, that you had a flight already booked that you couldn’t miss, that you had important business to get back to.

“Of course, Pepper. We’d love to.”

* * *

The gathering was exactly what Tony would have wanted. It was family and friends gathered around eating and drinking, but most of all - it was a bunch of people talking about Tony Stark.

You told Mike before the two of you arrived that you would stay for 20 minutes tops. That it simply would be out of respect for Pepper and once you felt your presence had been noted that the two of you would slip out unnoticed in the sea of people.

That was 2 hours ago.

Laughs came easy, tears flowed frequently, and stories were shared amongst friends. Surprising to you, it felt good to be around these people again. A familiar pang of home would hit you every now and again as you reconnected with those who you hadn’t seen in years. You introduced Mike to your old friends, who welcomed him warmly and with open arms. What you had thought would be a stressful, gut-wrenching day had actually turned out to be a joyful celebration of life. The day had been progressing smoothly and you wanted to chastise yourself for being so pessimistic.

That was, until you saw him.

Hands stuffed into the pockets of a black bomber jacket, long chestnut hair falling onto his shoulders, and a familiar collection of facial hair decorating the lower half of his face. He looked as terrible as you felt at the beginning of the day. Dark circles had only grown more prominent beneath his beautiful blue eyes and the corners of his lips were drawn down in a permanent frown. You couldn’t help but notice that he’d lost a considerable amount of weight. The once broad, thick man was now far more lean and toned than you ever remember him being.

A breath caught in your throat as the cerulean eyes met yours. Unable to stop yourself, you shoved your drink into Mike’s chest and hurried off to the nearest bathroom. Barely making it in time, you emptied your day’s stomach contents into the toilet. Breathing heavily, you fought back sobs as they threatened to leave your throat. To anyone else, it may seem you were simply grieving the loss of your friend, perhaps taking it harder than most. Oh how you wish that were the case.

You knew it would be difficult to see him again, but you didn’t expect it to feel as though someone had set your entire body ablaze. The heavy feeling of grief, anxiety, and stress from the beginning of the day was crushing your lungs, your stomach still trying to lurch although it had nothing left to give up, and tears burned the rims of your eyes. As you cleaned yourself up and flushed the toilet, you exited the stall to wash your hands and rinse your mouth. You tried to convince yourself it was the entire day's worth of emotions that had led you to this moment. That man no longer had this kind of hold on you - you had moved on. Or, so you thought.

Slowly, your gaze met your reflection in the mirror. The woman there looked worn and tired, like she had been fighting a raging war that she had been losing miserably. Mascara had begun to run down the apples of her cheeks and lipstick was smeared across her mouth. A heavy sigh left your lips as you did your best to make yourself more presentable. A shaky hand entered your clutch as you retrieved your lipstick and applied another layer. You gave yourself a final once-over and decided that your current appearance was as good as it was going to get. Just as you were going to turn around and return to the party there was movement in the mirror that caught your eye. The door was being pushed open from the outside. You turned to protest, to let the intruder know that the bathroom was occupied.

“Excuse me, sorry, there’s someone--”

It felt as though all the air had been taken from your lungs and your heart threatened to beat out of your chest as you came face to face with the man you had tried so hard, for so long, to forget. It was as though you were frozen in time, as if he were Medusa - turning you instantly to stone. Logically, the thing to do would be to tell him to get out or for you to leave the bathroom so that he could occupy the space alone. However, all you could do was stand and watch as he closed the bathroom door behind him, as his fingers closed around the lock and clicked it into place.

Then it was just the two of you. Bodies unmoving, aside from the rapid rise and fall of your chests in tandem. The air felt 100 degrees warmer than it had when you were alone. The silence, paired with the thump of your heartbeat, was deafening to your ears. You were hyper-aware of his gaze as he studied you the way you had him not minutes before. His eyes finally met yours once more and there was a poignant silence before he finally spoke.

“Can’t believe you still have that dress.”

Your eyes blinked a few times, brain trying to process his words and the situation you had currently found yourself to be in. You looked down to the front of your dress and smoothed your hands down it. How could you have gone the whole day without realizing that the dress you were wearing had been a gift from Bucky on your first anniversary? You were positive you had rid yourself of anything even remotely related to him. In fact, you distinctly recall dumping a box of momentos into a barrel and tossing a lit match inside. You don’t remember making the conscious decision to keep the dress, or why you would have made the decision. Now here you were - mere feet away from the man who had put it on and so delicately took it off of you many times.

“S’perfectly good dress. Shouldn’t go to waste.” Was all you could muster as a response in that moment.

The man before you took a step forward and you took a step back, hips coming into contact with the cold marble counter of the sink.

“Thought I’d never see you again. Y’look...different.” His gaze roaming its way down your body once more.

As his eyes landed on the diamond ring nestled onto the 4th finger of your left hand, you felt a lump begin to form in your throat.

“Congratulations.” His words were cold. Inauthentic. “He’s a lucky guy.”

“What the fuck are you doing in here, James?” The words were supposed to be sharp, but instead came out shaky and insecure.

“Saw you out there, starin’ at me. Guess I just wanted a closer look at you.”

By the end of the sentence he had closed the gap between the two of you even more, chests threatening to bump one another. His metal hand slowly reached forward and brushed a piece of hair off your shoulder. The cool appendage felt like fire against your skin and you know he heard the way you sharply inhaled, but you just couldn’t help it. You swallowed hard, head reeling and knees trying to buckle beneath you when you felt his cool palm cup your fiery cheek. It took everything in your body to avert your eyes from him, especially when you felt him even closer than before - warm breath fanning the expanse of your face. Why was he doing this? What was he going to accomplish? The fight or flight response in your body was screaming at you to push him away and run, but you didn’t.

“I’ve thought about you every day since you left, sweets. There’s not a moment that passes by where you’re not on my mind.”

Your eyes closed tightly, tears now welling up and spilling over.

“Everything you said about me that night was true. I am a coward. A coward who lost the best fuckin’ thing that ever happened to his sorry, broken ass.”

A small sob escaped your chest as your hand flew to your mouth, failing to keep it from tumbling out. Bucky found a loose thread and was slowly unraveling everything you’d worked toward in the last 8 years, every step toward progress and peace that you had worked so hard to find.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, doll” Bucky was now fully cupping your face with his large, calloused hands, “I’m so sorry that you fell in love with someone like me - a broken son of a bitch who never got put back together. I’m sorry that I hurt you so badly. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you the way I promised I would. I’m sorry that -”

In a moment of weakness, before he could finish his sentence, you were crashing your lips to his. There was nothing else that existed in your world - there was only you and there was only Bucky. Seemingly moving on their own accord, your hands found their way into his hair, grasping wildly for something to hold on to. As your fingers tugged on his roots, Bucky let out a deep moan into the kiss, sending a shiver down your spine.

The kiss was sloppy and desperate, all tongue and teeth. It was a balance of dominance between the two of you - although you were the one who initiated the kiss, Bucky was the first one to gain access to the inside of your mouth, and you were the first to tug his lower lip between your teeth. A pathetic mewl left your lips as Bucky’s mouth began trailing wet kisses across your jaw and down the column of your throat. The heartbeat in your ears from earlier was much worse now, making your head throb in pain. Every nerve ending in your body felt as though it was on fire and a small voice in the back of your head kept pleading with you to stop. For a moment you entertained the idea of shoving him off and telling him to fuck off, but that was before he started sucking that spot on your neck that he knew drove you mad. It was your turn to moan this time as you involuntarily arched your back, pressing yourself up against his firm torso.

You knew the way that you were tugging on the strands of his hair had to be incredibly painful but it only seemed to urge Bucky to continue. A soft gasp tumbled past your lips as you felt Bucky’s thigh push against your aching core. The sensation had you digging your fingernails into the back of his jacket as you finally released your grip on his hair. Before you could stop yourself, you could feel your hips grinding yourself down against his clothed thigh. Your dress had been pushed up around your waist, now only a small piece of cloth covering you as you desperately chased a high.

“I shoulda never let you go. Shoulda been at the airport to stop you before you got on that plane.”

His teeth sunk into your pulse point once more, earning himself another moan from your lips. The sting was soon replaced with the cool sensation of his tongue tracing the marks he had left.

“I love you, doll. I haven’t ever stopped lovin’ you.”

“Show me,” you whimpered pathetically against his shoulder, “show me you love me, Bucky. Please.”

An audible breath caught in his throat as he pulled himself back to look at you. Your chest was heaving, make-up smeared once more, and your pupils were blown wide with lust. You obviously weren’t able to see the look you gave him, but judging by the way he looked back at you it was fair to say you looked broken, pathetic, and desperate for him. The eyes looking back at you had the softness to them that you remember, the strokes of his hands against your body contained the passion that you’d so been longing for, and the tone in his voice told you that he was desperate for you too.

Within seconds your feet were lifted from the ground and your ass made contact with the cold, wet countertop. There wasn’t a lot of room, objects were scattered onto the floor and others were left to push into your hips with aggressive force, but you just didn’t care. It was impossible to care when Bucky moved your knees apart and dragged a finger along your clothed pussy. The sensation made your head fall back against the mirror with a hard thud but you couldn’t feel any of the pain from it at all. The only thing you felt was the way electricity rippled through your body when he used his thumb to apply pressure to your aching clit. Bucky groaned and rested his forehead against yours, lips slightly parted as he felt your need for him growing.

“So wet for me, just like I remember. Lemme make you feel good, sweets, hmm?” He had leaned forward to whisper softly in your ear as his teeth grazed your lobe.

It was you who reached down and shoved your panties down your thighs, meeting a surprised look from Bucky as he helped you drag them down to hang around your ankle. Bucky’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he hooked his hands underneath your knees to spread your legs open for him. Another groan came from him, this time more guttural than the last. You felt small underneath his gaze and the cool air in the bathroom brushing across your soaking core made you shiver.

Your hand flew to your mouth to suppress the noises you made as his finger slipped through your folds, running up and down to collect your wetness.

“More. God. Please, Buck. Need more.” You whined, attempting to roll your hips against his hand to find any form of friction that you could.

“Anything for you, baby.” He whispered as he gently inserted a finger inside of you. The two of you moaned in tandem.

There was a brief moment of embarrassment with the way your walls immediately clenched around his finger and the way his finger immediately found that soft spot. It was shortly replaced with a feeling of ecstasy. Bucky captured your lips with his to swallow your moans as he added another finger. The way his fingers were curling and pumping inside of you already had you close to the edge. Bucky pulled back and held your gaze as he added pressure to your clit with his thumb, circling the area as his fingers continued to repeatedly hit that spot inside of you.

“Please, please don’t stop.” You begged as you felt the pressure building within the lower part of your body.

“S’okay. I’m right here.” Bucky’s other hand was cradling the back of your head as he whispered to you. “I know you’re close. Can feel you squeezin’ me. You can let go for me, I got you.”

As your eyes met his, foreheads pressed together, you finally came apart. The white hot sensation tears through you as your legs quake. You squeeze your eyes shut and allow Bucky to help you ride through your orgasm as he peppers light kisses along your neck.

“I almost forgot how pretty you look when you cum.”

You whine at the emptiness and loss of contact when Bucky removes his fingers from your center. As your eyes flutter open you see him push the fingers into his mouth and suck them clean. The look on his face was euphoric.

“God. Almost forgot how fuckin’ sweet you taste too.”

Mustering up all the strength you had, you sat up and pulled him closer by his belt. The two of you worked together to rid him of his pants and boxers. Your hand wrapped around him, thumb swiping the red tip and using the pre-cum to help lubricate as you pumped your hand down his length. Bucky’s jaw clenched as he moaned at the sensation. Just as you were going to leave the counter, you felt his hands grabbing your shoulders and halting your movements.

“Maybe a different time, sweets. But right now I gotta be inside you.”

You caught your bottom lip as you nodded and released your hold on him. Bucky’s hands wrapped around your thighs as he pulled your hips to the edge of the sink. The metal hand left your thigh as he grabbed himself at the base and pushed his length through your folds. The two of you once more shared a moan at the sensation. As he lined himself up with your entrance, your hands wrapped around his neck to pull him in for another kiss. The next thing you felt was the familiar sting of his cock stretching your walls as he slid into you. Your lips left his and your forehead found itself pressed against his once more. Both of you panting heavily as neither of you dared to speak a word.

Following a moment of silence, allowing your body time to stretch to accommodate him, you nodded slowly as to signal to him that it would be okay for him to move. His thrusts were slow and calculated at first, as if he was attempting to regain his memory of your body - one that he once knew so well. You couldn’t help but dig your fingernails into his shoulder as you held on to him for dear life, subconsciously afraid that if you were to let go of him he’d be gone again forever.

“Faster, Bucky. Please.” You whimpered into his ear as you took his earlobe between your teeth and nibbled softly.

A low growl left his chest as he grabbed your hips and lifted you off the counter, moving slightly so that he could cage your body against the wall. You wrapped your legs firmly around his waist, locking them at the ankle. His thrusts became faster, deeper, and it was apparent he had gained his confidence back.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, baby. Just the way I remember.” He grunted as he dug his fingers harder into your hips.

His lips were on yours again, this time tears were starting to decorate the corners of your eyes. The pleasure, the regret, the passion, the guilt - every feeling was building up along with your orgasm. Bucky pulled away from the kiss to tap on your bottom lip with two of his fingers, which you greedily accepted into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around his digits until he pulled them out and used them to circle your clit. The added pleasure was almost too much to handle.

“C’mon, baby. Wanna cum with you. Can you do that for me, huh?” Bucky whimpered, his thrusts beginning to falter from the calculated snaps he was giving you before.

All you could do was nod your head quickly as the pressure steadily increased, bringing you to the brink of your second orgasm.

“I love you. I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much, oh my god.” Bucky grunted as the two of you reached your peak together.

You leaned forward to bite down on his shoulder and suppress the scream that left your mouth as pleasure erupted through your body. The two of you assisted each other through the high of your release and you felt your ass make contact with the cool countertop once more.

The only noise present in the space was your heavy breathing and a small dripping noise that came from the sink. Bucky’s final words before he came replayed in your head over and over again as you attempted to slow your breathing and bring yourself back down to earth. Your body shuttered slightly as Bucky slipped himself out of you. As you sat up, you noticed he was looking around the bathroom.

“Shit, sweets. I don’t think there’s anything I can use to help clean you up.” He sighed and turned to meet your gaze that was locked upon him.

“It’s fine, Buck. Not a big deal.”

Bucky bent over and helped you pull your panties back on before he redressed himself. Neither of you spoke for what felt like eternity.

“I-...” You muttered finally, “I love you too, Buck. I thought I was over you, I thought I moved on but...I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you no matter how hard I try.”

Bucky reached out to stroke your cheek with the back of his hand as he listened to you lament to him. His eyes were soft and caring and you could almost swear he was looking into the depths of your soul.

“I think —“

Your conversation was cut short by the sound of knocking at the bathroom door.

“Hey, are you okay in there? Do you need anything?” Mike’s voice had your entire body flooded with the shame of your infidelity. In one swift movement, you were on the floor and turning the sink on to make it appear you were just washing your hands.

“Y-yeah I’m fine! Just finishing up! I’ll find you out there in a minute!” You squeaked.

Mike seemed to pause for a moment before you heard his footsteps retreat from the bathroom door. A wave of relief washed over you, but it was only temporary. As soon as you were relaxed the gravity of the situation you were in was clouding you once more.

“I have to go. I can’t give him any reason to think he needs to come in here.” Bucky nodded, eyes not leaving yours as you spoke while collecting yourself, “but we need to..we should..we have to address this. Later.”

“I agree.”

“Our flight leaves tomorrow night. I’ll...see what I can come up with as far as an excuse. Then we can put this to bed for good.”

“Absolutely, sweets.”

The nickname made your knees buckle once more as you sighed.

“Goodbye, James.”

You finally tore your eyes from his as you unlocked the door and slipped out of the bathroom. In reality, however, you knew this really wasn’t goodbye. Not even close.

[lavendertales]

Wicked game (Javier Peña x f!reader)

Part 16 of Lay It On Me series

summary: during an undercover stakeout, you and Steve talk personal stuff, and when the topic inevitably lands on Javier, the night culminates with a surprising call.

word count: 4.5k

gif: @nickblaine​

series masterlist | AO3 | playlist

Cali was an entirely different story.

Barely three weeks into your mission to put an end to its cartel and you already felt helpless. The Cali cartel was much more resourceful and organized than the Medellin one, much more dangerous, and by that point, it was estimated that they were running about 80% of the cocaine market worldwide.

Which meant the stakes were higher than before, as was the pressure weighing down on you, Steve and Javier.

The rules were poles apart from what you used to know. Since the three of you were in charge of the operation alongside Colonel Hugo Martinez, Chris Feistl and Daniel Van Ness, you had to be utterly professional and shift your entire attention to the operation. Nothing could be left out, nothing could be done randomly. And, being the determined and stubborn person that you were, your number one priority was bringing down the cartel.

“There’s a party tonight,” Hugo announced loudly.

“So, are we all invited or not?” Chris joked.

Unimpressed, Hugo’s face remained impassible whilst looking at the rest of the team.

“We got word that the Rodriguez brothers will be there,” he continued. “And it is also rumored that Pacho Herrera will be there, meaning the big three. What we need is more intel. We cannot arrest them just yet.”

“Why the hell not?” Javier interfered. “We got everything we could need to get our hands on those bastards.”

“Because that’s how we do things here, Peña. With careful consideration. We don’t just throw ourselves head first into danger.”

Visibly displeased, Javier only grunted and kept his mouth shut, staring at the ground. Chris and Daniel, on the other hand, asked more questions, as opposed to how silent the three of you were.

“And because we want to keep things on the low and follow them tonight, figure out where they go into hiding, I’m gonna ask you two to go.”

You and Steve exchanged a somewhat worried look, but replied nothing.

“I’d like you two to go undercover at that party tonight. Simply observe them and follow them when they leave.”

“Why them?” Daniel asked, somewhat disappointed.

“Because they’re smarter than you give them credit for. And they know when to keep their mouths shut. Which is imperative for this particular mission.”

“Alright. I guess we’re partying tonight,” you said.

“Remember, blend in and keep your distance as much as you can.”

“Got it.”

“No interactions at all. We want them to feel like they are in control, as usual.”

“We can pretend we’re just out for some drinks,” Steve suggested.

“Good. You’ll act as if you’re on a date, in the background. No actual drinks. We don’t want anyone’s inhibitions or mental faculties to vanish.”

Both you and Steve chuckled while the team slowly spread out. Javier was the first to exit the conference room, rushing outside for a smoke. Ever since he left Medellin, he promised himself he’d cut the cigarettes, but it seemed that with all the stress and pressure, he needed something to cut the tension. And nicotine and alcohol were the only sources of coping he had left.

“I’ll pick you up at nine?” Steve asked you.

“Sure thing. I’ll give you my address.”

“Still can’t really get used to the surroundings. Feels kinda weird not living on the same floor with Javi.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

You haven’t sounded so harsh and cold in a long time, and you embraced it. You had big things to focus on and not even Javier Peña was going to stand in your way.

“Are you guys okay? You and—”

“We’ve got work to do. We’re in the middle of a war, Murphy. Let’s just do our jobs.”

Steve didn’t bother adding or asking anything else. He knew a refusal when he heard one, and he pushed  you no further, despite his instincts telling him that life at the office would be living hell now that you and Javier truly hated each other.

Steve drove you to the venue where the party was being held. When you arrived, a few minutes before ten, the party barely started. Everyone was dancing, talking, drinking and, by the looks of it, smoking heavily. You had to remind yourself that you were supposedly on a date, meant to sit in the back and observe.

“Here, let’s have a seat,” Steve guided you to a small table.

“We can’t talk in English. We have to blend in, and if they hear a couple of gringos here, we’ll stand out immediately.”

“Luego hablamos en español.”

Then we talk in Spanish.

You looked surprised at Steve, who only flashed a bright and proud smile in return.

“No está mal para un Americano, ¿eh?” he continued.

Not bad for an American, huh?

“No está nada mal. ¿Cuándo aprendiste a hablar tan bien?”

Not bad at all. When did you learn to speak such fluent Spanish?

“Todavía estoy aprendiendo.”

I am still learning.

“Tal vez quieras perder el típico acento americano.”

You might want to lose the typical American accent.

“¿Cómo?”

How?

“En inglés, se rueda la R. Pero en español, se pone énfasis en ella.”

In English, you roll your R. But in Spanish, you put emphasis on it.

Steve leaned in over the table and whispered, “Can you teach me how?”

You smiled. “Just hear me talk.”

“Then… talk to me.”

“Eres un gran hombre, Steve Murphy. Un gran amigo, un gran agente... también genial en la cama. Y espero que salgamos vivos de esto porque me gustaría mucho tenerte como amigo en mi vida. Necesito cosas buenas. Necesito buenos amigos como tú.”

You’re a really great man, Steve Murphy. A great friend, a great agent… great in bed, too. And I hope we make it out of this alive because I’d very much like to have you as a friend in my life. I need good things. I need good friends like you.

“What I got from that is that… I’m great—”

“Mhm.”

“And… you sound really good when you talk in Spanish—”

“Also true.”

“And that we’re friends.”

“Yes.”

“I’m confused, I thought this was a date.”

You giggled, and Steve followed suit. Each of you took a few sips from your beers and resumed staring at the crowd. As told, Gilberto and Miguel were there, dancing and making conversations with the other guests. You settled for listening to the music and simply examining every single person there. You looked at their clothes, the hairstyles, the jewelry, everything you could visualize in the dim, colorful lights.

“Hey, listen,” Steve said after a while, moving closer to you. “About what happened with you and me, and—and Javi…”

“Don’t make it weird, Murphy.”

“I wasn’t trying to, I just—“

“Then don’t talk about it. It happened. It was fun, it was great—“

“It was really great.”

You smiled, eager to finish the conversation and move way past it.

“It was… a one-time thing,” you finished. “We are all colleagues, and our main objective right now is to sit here, quietly, and keep tabs on the Rodriguez brothers.”

“Okay, fine. But from where I’m standing, things are far worse between you and him. It’s the worst it’s ever been. You’re not even talking to each other.”

“Why should we? We’re just colleagues.”

“I can see why he used to think he hated you. You really are stubborn like him.”

You frowned, taking another sip of the beer. Slowly, the desire to drown yourself in alcohol overawed you, but you fought it. You were on the job. You couldn’t afford any distractions.

“’Used to think’?” you repeated, incredulous.

“Yes, used to. I told you, you two are two peas in a pot. Same coin. Of course he would hate you, and vice versa. But now… you are just so fucking infuriating with all this ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude. It’s worse than the ‘I hate you’ one. At least that one was sincere.”

“Murphy, don’t push it.”

“All of this could be solved with one conversation. You know that just as much as I do, and he knows that, too.”

“We’ve had the fucking conversation.”

“What?”

You managed to block out the sound, the laughter, all of it. All you could hear were the hysterics from your last conversation with Javier, over a month ago. His husky voice yelling at you how you controlled his every move, his every decision, his hands roaming around your waist, his lips at your neck, whispering how gorgeous you were, your legs around his waist, all of it tore you apart in millions of tiny pieces.

So you blocked it all out.

“We’ve had the conversation,” you repeated. “We agreed it is both of our interest to be colleagues, civil around each other—”

“Civil? You’re not even talking to each other.”

“It’s what’s best.”

“For whom?”

“For me! For both of us! He’s not the guy who commits, and I am not the girl who commits. All I’ve ever been great for are one night stands. And it’s been working flawlessly. I don’t want or need any attachment. Much less to the womanizer of Medellin. And I want to do what is best for me.”

“Denying yourself of the one thing that brings you joy isn’t what’s best.”

You stared furiously at him, finishing your beer and ordering another one right away. Of course you would feel displeased when somebody pointed out exactly what you were doing wrong because you did not need anyone else bringing you down. You did that plenty in your spare time.

But at the very least you did not lose sight of neither Gilberto nor Miguel, their figures still distinguishable in the crowd.

“Se supone que estamos hablando en español,” you reminded him.

“Baila conmigo.”

We’re supposed to be talking in English.

Dance with me.

You sighed, but succumbed nonetheless. Steve was taller than you, so the ratio of height whilst dancing with him was rather enjoyable. But it was also overwhelming to think of the hold he had over your waist as the phantom of Javier’s. It was cruel to him, though he may not have known it, and it was cruel to you, under an entirely different form.

It was simply excruciating. Every touch, regardless who its owner was, made you think of Javier. Every breath, every sound, you could trace it all back to him. So you forced yourself to shut down with alcohol.

“No eres malo,” you remarked amusedly.

You are not bad.

Not bad at all.

“I used to dance with Connie every now and then,” Steve smirked.

“Me doy cuenta. Tienes un buen ritmo.”

I can tell. You have a pretty good rhythm.

Very good, if I remember correctly.

“I miss her,” he sighed, staring off in the distance.

“I wish I could say it gets better in time, but time is a cruel mistress.”

“It sure fucking feels like that.”

“¿Por qué no la llamas?”

Why don’t you call her?

It’s easy for you to do. You’re the guy who says something and then does it.

“Porque… tengo—uh—miedo.”

Because I’m afraid.

“¿Por qué tienes miedo?”

Why are you afraid?

“I’m afraid of hearing her, of wanting to see her when she probably won’t want me.”

You remained silent for a little. The sentiment was cruelly close to your heart as well.

Because if I don’t look at you… then I don’t see the pain in your eyes. The disappointment, the anger or the beauty. Because that way… I don’t feel… things. And that way… my mind isn’t trying to memorize every detail of your face like it’s the last thing I’ll ever see.

Javier’s words were ingrained in your mind like a sharp knife, impossible to remove without causing significant damage. The speech ringed awfully like a goodbye, and once again, you understood  it. You reciprocated the sentiment regardless of how much you despised it.

“Estoy dispuesto a apostar que si cogieras el teléfono y la llamaras, te contestaría. Y te escuchará a pesar de todo.”

I am willing to bet that if you picked up the phone and called her, she’d answer. And she’ll hear you regardless.

Steve smiled fondly at you, spinning you around once before bringing you back to his chest. “Thanks.”

“You didn’t get that, did you?”

“I think I did. But I don’t—I don’t wanna think about that tonight.”

“Distraction it is then.”

You danced with Steve for longer than you had anticipated. You must’ve drank about five beers when you finally began to feel drunk, and when you finally sat back down at the table, your vision was somehow on high alert for Gilberto or Miguel.

And when you spotted both of them leaving around two a.m., you and Steve knew it was go time.

Steve drove slowly and steadily, with you dead silent in the passenger’s seat. You managed to calm yourself down and focus on the job again, which was liberating, but not enough.

It was pretty clear that both you and Steve had issues to fight through and you needed to find something to help you cope in all of that debilitating stress. Alcohol wouldn’t cut it, not when you were literally following the Cali cartel’s big bosses to their private headquarters and you needed to stay focused more than anything.

Steve pulled up at the end of a darkened street, at the end of which stood a very lavish villa. You failed to contain your surprise, although the scenery was exactly what you would’ve expected from someone who loved living in style.

“Jesus fucking Christ, they’re not even hiding this,” Steve breathed, examining the surroundings.

“Do you know where we are?”

“I memorized the road to this place. We gotta call Javi.”

You took the phone out of your bag and dial Javier’s number, numb to the flood of emotions that threatened to pass through you.

“Peña.”

“It’s me. We’re—”

“Can you give me Murphy?”

You rolled your eyes and made sure that he heard you sigh annoyingly before passing the phone to Steve.

“Have your precious Murphy,” you whispered under your breath, eyes on the road.

“What the hell was that?” he queried.

“Where are you?”

“Apparently, we’re at the Rodriguez hideout. At least that’s what they call it, but it’s a huge fucking villa, lots of security—”

Steve stopped, and you noticed why. Right before you, the garage door opened and you saw Gilberto, Miguel and Pacho, clear as the sun.

“What’s going on?” Javier cooed.

“We’ve got sight of the Rodriguez brothers. And Pacho.”

“You’re looking at them right now?”

“Right now.”

“Are you safe? Both of you?”

“Yeah, we’re—we’re fine, they can’t see us.”

“Okay, good.”

“Listen, Javi, we can get in there right now and bust them—”

“No, we can’t,” you said.

“You can’t,” Javier agreed.

“I’m buzzed, and we don’t have enough backup.”

“You don’t have any backup. It’s just the two of you, you can’t do it.”

You exchanged a concerned look with Steve, mentally debating for longer than you cared to admit or even want, but you both agreed Javier was right. It was a suicide mission, and you weren’t really on your best behavior.

“Fine,” you cooed.

“Give me Y/N on the phone.”

Steve passed you the phone and you resentfully took it, placing it to your ear. “He knows words,” you said mockingly, wanting to pinch and sting him however you could.

“You have to get out of there. You’ll tell us the address and we’re gonna check it out tomorrow, but you can’t go in there, drunk, no less—”

“I am not drunk, you moron. I’ve had a couple of beers.”

“So that’s about, what, five?”

And then you got mad.

“Do not talk to me like if you know me better than I know myself, Peña. If you’re resorting to hating me and not talking to me, then do that.”

“Just get out of there. Martinez gave clear instructions and we would prefer to have you both alive.”

“Doesn’t sound like it coming from you.”

You only heard Javier’s ragged breath on the other line and you hung up, fuming. It felt like you had been transported back a year, when all you and Javier could do was snap at each other on the smallest grounds you could find and tear each other apart verbally.

Only this time around, the anger vanished within minutes and it was replaced by sorrow.

Unwilling to dive into the topic but very eager to have another drink, stronger, you gestured to Steve to drive you home, and he obeyed. That was the great and refreshing thing about your dynamic with Steve: he was kind and straightforward, and you could share a laugh—or a sweaty night together with another, apparently—without the fear of what tomorrow would bring to you. Javier, on the other hand, could be easily categorized as being too straightforward at times; and at other times, so quiet that it was nearly out of character. You thought you had become acquainted with him and you truly felt like whatever he felt, you did, but lately, he sent too many mixed messages, too many parallels to however it was that he might’ve been feeling like.

And you were tired of trying to guess and wonder.

When you invited Steve upstairs, he instantly accepted. He seemed deep in thought as well, but perhaps for reasons that were entirely different than yours. Neither one of you said much when you poured whiskey in two glasses, chugging it down with each passing minute and finally entertaining yourselves after yet another long day.

“I tell you what,” Steve giggled, cheeks reddened and words slightly slurred. “I call Connie, like you said—”

“Mhm—”

“And you call Javier.”

You burst out laughing even though that hadn’t been your intention. You wanted to stare disapprovingly, to mock him and to openly bash Javier, but instead, you sat on the floor, legs crossed and alcohol running in your bloodstream like an angry river.

“Right now?” you asked.

“Right now.”

“Oh, Steven… don’t you know drunk calls are terrible?”

“Not when it comes to Javier motherfuckin’ Peña.”

You nodded, toasting with Steve for whatever reason. There needn’t be one, though; it was just about lowering your inhibitions and your walls for a little while with a friend.

“Why are you both so fucking stubborn?”

“I get it from my mom. She, uh—once she was set on something, she went through with it. She didn’t use to care.”

“Is—is she—?”

“Dead? No. I just haven’t spoken much to her since I was sixteen.”

Steve frowned, understanding in his drunkenness that you had reached a sensitive topic that you never willingly shared before. He straightened his position as if to listen to you better and patiently waited for an explanation of any sort.

“She kicked me out of the house when I was sixteen,” you said, gaze fixed somewhere in front of you, staring at nothing and yet seeing everything from that one painful moment you just mentioned. “I told her and my father that… I like boys… and girls as well. I told them I like both. I told them I like… people. Actually I hate people, but—but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“She said she’s not gonna raise a mentally ill child, a broken one. Next time I heard from her was when she called to tell me my father died in a motorcycle crash. And then… a few months later to tell me that my uncle was dead, too. And nothing since then. Over ten years.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ… I’m—I am so sorry.”

You shrugged and poured yourself more whiskey. “It’s in the past.”

There was much more Steve would’ve liked to add, to say, yet he couldn’t find the proper words. Everything he planned thoroughly in his mind would’ve came stupid at that time, so he dropped it and indulged you in drinking more. He nearly gasped when he saw you take out the phone and dial.

“What are you doing?” he asked, half dying of curiosity and half concerned.

“Calling Peña like you told me to. If this gets you to talk to Connie, then so be it.”

“Wait, I didn’t think you’d really—”

“Peña.”

“Oh, you sound grumpy. What’s the matter?”

Javier, on the other line, was entirely stunned. He recognized your drunken voice, but he made nothing of it. He was still awake at that ungodly hour and truth be told, he was uncertain whether you were just entertaining yourself or if there was something wrong.

“Having fun from what I hear,” he remarked.

It was hurting him, distressing him in ways it really shouldn’t have. Just the sound of your voice was awakening something in him that he couldn’t recall ever feeling.

“The stakeout is over. Now it’s just a lot of drinking.”

Javier huffed, getting out of bed. He rubbed his forehead and temples, very tempted to get into the car and drive all the way to you. But he didn’t. He faltered, he questioned himself—and you, subsequently—and chose to sit there dumbfounded, phone in hand.

“Did you need anything or—why the hell did you call?”

His words stung and they come out much harsher than he wanted, but he couldn’t take it back. Not with you. You’d see right through his crap and call him out on it without hesitation and relentlessly.

“Steve kind of needs me to do this.”

“He needs you to call me at… two in the morning?”

“Kind of. He said that if I call you now to talk, then he’ll call Connie. Long story.”

“Okay, then… why did you call me?”

“To talk.”

“I can come over.”

This time, you hesitated. Next to you, Steve was listening to every word of what you and he exchanged, but you paid him no attention. You focused on your breaths instead and thought about every single word that you wanted to get out.

“No,” you replied, slightly taken aback by your own boldness in that state. “Because that would require… eye contact, and… we don’t do that, right?”

Javier gulped.

And you heard it.

“I want to,” he admitted, managing to shock even Steve. “I really want to. But—“

But.

“It’s too complicated.”

“Like hell it is!” Steve whispered angrily and you immediately slapped him over his arm.

“It’s really not. We make it complicated because we don’t wanna risk it all in this war. We don’t wanna have something dear to hold onto that can be easily taken away by those fucking narco traficantes. I feel you. I—”

“I know you do.”

You were left without a smart reply and breaths. All air was confined into one painful spot in your throat, not ventilating properly to your lungs, and you forced yourself to clear your throat in hopes of clearance.

“But I do give a shit about you, Javier,” you admitted as well. “You think this is easy for me, saying these things? It’s not. It’s really fucking not. And… part of me is glad you didn’t look at me for months because… I stared enough for the both of us.”

Javier groans your name, the sound a painful reminder of the good times you’ve shared thinking they meant nothing more but stress relief. 

“There’s no point in this call, really. We agreed it’s best to drop the whole thing and—”

“Fuck, I—listen, I—I want to try and make things right and be the kind of person you want to… I don’t fucking know, spend time with, if we have it…”

“Then do something about it!” Steve yelled.

Silence.

On the other line, Javier froze. He realized that you were still with Steve, and he thought back to the entire stakeout, how it must’ve went, how the two of you had to play pretend for hours on end and share drinks and laughter—

And he ached again.

But he knew Steve was not terrible like he is. He knew that if there was any man that would treat you right, it would be him.

So he let it happen. He let those intrusive thoughts slide out of his mind and focused on the job instead.

The job comes first, he said once under your hesitant approval. And this made no exception.

“Don’t call me next time at this fucking hour unless there’s a good reason,” he said and hung up.

He knew he was no good and that he was acting like an asshole. But how else was he supposed to function in that war and with you by his side every single day?

Steve tried to catch your attention, but you cut him off immediately.

“I knew this would happen. Every single fucking time we try to talk… either he loses his shit or I lose mine and we end up fighting. This wasn’t any different. And neither of us will change.”

“You two are the most infuriating people I have ever fucking met. I hate you both.”

You kept on drinking, amusement fading from your system. What the hell were you thinking? Calling Javier Peña in the middle of the night without the prospect of it being a booty call was a lost cause.

“You two boneheads are crazy about each other and in your stupid process of ignoring each other you hurt everyone around you, including yourselves,” he said, taking the almost empty bottle of whiskey from you.

“What do you want me to do?! I have tried and tried and, yes, I am—I might just be crazy for this shitty ass man who won’t even say it in return when it’s clear that this is—this is more for him to. We both… fuck, we both know it’s something more, but this fucking… fear, Steve, it’s—it’s crippling.”

“Well, cut it out already. You’re bumming us all out.”

“Yeah, cause being in love with Javier Peña is an easy task. Like you can just—”

And it clicked.

You stared at Steve with a panicked look on your face like you’d just seen the devil himself. You felt shocked, terrified and eased, all at once. The last time you had even thought about the L word was over a decade ago and truthfully, you didn’t believe you would ever say it again. At least not in that context or not to that degree.

But it was true. It was maddeningly true. It had to be.

You were madly in love with him, in spite of everything, and there was no way around it. The second that word slipped out of your mouth, rolling down your tongue and through your vocal chords, you felt it, too. You felt its meaning, its implications and its overwhelming effect on you.

All because of a goddamn office hookup.

previous | next

[theringers]

V-card anon: hi sorry about that first ask i kinda went into a fugue state (spelling?) altered state of reality maybe when i wrote that and damn near outlined a fic in your inbox

The way we played hot seat was either part of a larger drinking game when a certain card was pulled from a deck, or just on it's own. You sit in a circle, everyone has a drink, usually a beer or cider. In the card pull version, the one who pulls the card gets asked a question by every person playing and if they refuse to answer they drink from their drink. In the standalone, you do that but everyone gets a turn being asked until people get bored and leave. Fun way to find out shit about people. Usually the unwritten rule is that you can't lie. I imagine everyone sitting on shitty chouches and chairs in a semi circle around a table full of cups and bottles playing it

Questions i have been asked: are you a top or bottom? Do you like anal? Wheres the weirdest place you've fucked? Body count? Favorite position (sexual)? Fuck marry kill/ignore people in this room (EVERY TIME I PLAYED I GOT THIS QUESTION)? Tits or ass or other? Favorite non sexual body part ex. Thigh? Ideal fuck buddy? Sex regrets? Etc

Also more weird details i have head cannoned out for some drivers and most likely does not fit with irl personalities, do with this what you will, use it or don't i just have feelings. Also everyone is like compressed in age to like 20-27ish except for some of the grid who i will just think of as younger alumns who come back:

Danny R: social chair, owns a jeep he takes the doors off of in the summer, walks girls home at night to make sure they're ok, tries to DJ house events and is rebuffed by literally everyone, has like 30 pairs of vans you trip over in his room, stolen roadsigns everywhere, masters in something arigcultural or physiological, cutoff frat shirts for days, fuckboy but nice, a bit cringe, will drive around with you at night so you can scream, met reader bc she had a band tee on and wanted to talk to her about it (no gatekeeping)

Charles: some kind of engineering or math degree but no one has any idea how the fuck he's gotten so far, 4.0 never studies, games with other house members, will show up at events randomly you will have no idea how he gets on your couch but he is there, the best and worst taste in clothes, is the only one allowed to play the piano in the house, sweet, cannot help you with studies but is always down for helping you out after, has to be reminded to clean stuff, disaster bi, reader met his gf first and they probably met through that

Pierre: good fashion and music taste, shirt is gone halfway through the night, also fuckboy but wholesome, actually studies, plays a sport for sure probably soccer in some way either club or Division he's too good for rec, will hold your hair back so you can throw up, will tell you your outfit sucks, good at math, also part of the squad that games, econ major, workout buddies with reader anday have taken a math class together

Max: is part of the hockey team he will go pro, also actually studies, got into gaming because of Charles, has the nicest car, is serious until he gets a couple drinks in him, he and Daniel are close and roomed together at some point, owns like 30 sets of the same outfit a white tee and jeans, knows reader through Dan and they get dragged by him to some of the same stuff

Lando: is a pledge or new member his big is Carlos, undeclared major, just happy to be here, gaming squad, used to play lacrosse or something equally obscure, king of knowing where the good snacks are, weirdly good at beer pong, growing into a fuckboy wholesomeness level tbd, probably sweet with reader as she helped him through a blackout or something, met her because she's basically house mom for some of the new boys (the kind of mom who will teach you to do laundry or iron ONCE)

Carlos: hockey flow but does not play hockey, actually studies and is smarter than what people give him credit for, came from a private high school and uni really opened his horizons, also good study buddy, gets along with most people, goes to office hours the most out of the actually studies gang, fun at parties, owns the frat dogs, he and reader met at Office hours (they were the only students) and found they had mutual friends too

Lewis: is/was president of frat, great grades greater bod, did full evolution from fuckboy to good man, has the back tests and the moral support, up for late noght talks about life, definitely was a D1 athlete, best fashion game, implemented no hazing policy, fits into notable alum or PhD category

Mick: undergrad like Lando, also plays soccer or something, too sweet, also walks girls home/holds your hair back etc, cleans parts of the house that aren't his responsibility, higher alcohol tolerance than you expect, everyone is bizarrely protective of him, legacy member (his dad was a legend), drives a motorbike around campus and can't decide between law and psychology, actually studies, met reader through the frat and she would die for him, brings her to class on the bike sometimes because the bike is faster

George: business major, frat treasurer, three ring binder business casual in class kind of guy, nice enough, shirt comes off when drunk, runs marathons and a podcast about investments, best notes in the game and great study partner, actually studies, is drinking monster at 6AM but not because he stayed up late, he and reader met through the frat and sometimes drink wine and bitch together

Lance: hockey player, legacy member, studies sometimes, sarcasm on point, great at stack cup, very chill, knows every good nap spot on campus, also has high alcohol tolerance, is the kind of person who does well in the cold but does not like it, wears headphones so people don't talk to him, great one on one but not in crowds, business major and minor in computer science, probably also met thru Lance's gf but vibe as more introverted people and will cover for each other if one does not want to go out

Nicky: a good boy, part of the walks people home squad, sets up designated drivers for parties, good snack game, future in medical field, good listener, pretty good study buddy, midnight snack enabler, met reader through frat and his gf he and reader are on babysitting duty together sometimes when others get too drunk/high

Yuki: also a pledge or new, majoring in games or computer science as they gave me the same energy as him, games squad, bit of a mad lad, has several stolen street signs, good, met reader through frat and Yuki is the only one patient enough to explain some games to reader, they cuss people out on mic

Esteban: good man, has a full ride scholarship, actually studies, also good study buddy, Dan's little, plays soccer but maybe on a rec team because he prioritizes school, very sweet guy as well, probably chose a really practical major/dual major, met reader through Dan and are also dragged similar places by him

Antonio: manbun, philosophy or classics major possibly business dual, generally good natured but can be seen supplying his own wine at parties, used to be really into metal but kept the hair, does not know that people find him attractive, soccer boi, met reader through frat and she's the only one who will (pretend) to listen to him rant about philosophy

Alex Albon: another full scholarship guy, somehow gets along with everyone, switched majors due to an asshole professor, electrical engineering or computer engineering, actually studies, helps with frat pets,will show you pictures of his cats at home, sweetie, another contender for will hold your hair or walk you home, probably met reader through a class or club and found they had mutual friends and that reader is friends with his gf

Notable alums:

Checo - dad, successful in finance somehow (he looks like an really successful accountant of CFO to me idk why)

Kimi - dad but people forget he is, holds the record for most drinks in 24 hours that will never be come close to by anyone else, shows up on random alum weekends with 2 kegs, legally cannot tell you what he does or he would actually have to murder you

Valterri - was good at a sport when he was there, now a very effective lead engineer at an architectural firm

Seb - environmental or mechanical engineering, all around good guy with someone the best grades in frat history

Alonso - legendary for sexual exploits (consensual)

Anyone I put as actually studies is probably the type reader would hang around for more serious stuff/schoolwork and would probably be closer to, with the exception of Dan bc I feel like he'd be like we're friends now :)) we shall hang or Charles bc he will just show up. I also imagine she has a pretty good friendship with any existing gf, however if a driver does have a gf and he is the love interest sorry bb girl u gotta go for the purposes of this fic

Sorry this is so long hahaaaaaaa glad you liked my Charles thoughts ilu

i honestly wasn’t going to share this like the rest of the anon asks i’ve gotten that i keep close to my heart but this was just too good to keep to myself.

LOOK! AT! THIS!

f1 drivers as frat bros/college students headcannon

i’m writing a series - each “chapter” will be a smut with a different frat bro and i’m hoping to post a sneak peek this week some time but here’s something to hold you over and give you some ideas

to my vcard anon - i appreciate this so much. my inbox is always open for ur thoughts bc they are SO GOOD !! can’t wait for you to read the first part of the series bby

PS if some of this doesn’t make sense to u feel free to send in asks (i know a lot of this is focused on american college culture so if u don’t get it i’m happy to explain)

[slasherhaven]

Hello, can I make a request for Thomas? Something about him getting bullied/attacked/picked on by either people from the town or coworkers in the factory and physically strong reader standing up for him and openly liking him/finding him handsome? It can lead to a nswf moment or not, and idk if they would know each other personally prior to that... pls female reader if possible. <3 I love your work.

Unfortunately, no NSFW in this one. Just a steamy kiss!

Thomas’ Future S/O defending him against a bully

Word Count: 2311

You had been working at the meat processing plant for a while now, and since your first week you had befriended the silent and mysterious Thomas Hewitt. You first saw him when you were being given your introductory tour, your less than friendly tour guide had pointed him out and told you to just avoid him, but that only made you more curious about him.

You understandably figured that he just wasn't a friendly guy or that he had caused some trouble in the past but you quickly realised that wasn't quite right. You hadn't even finished your first week there when you realised that he wasn't a problem at all, it was actually the others that bothered him all day, while he just remained silent, kept his head down, carried on with his work, and ignored them.

He wasn't the problem, they were.

So, on that Friday, you marched over to his work station at the back of the room and asked him to have lunch with you. He seemed cautious of you, like you must be pulling a prank on him, before agreeing.

From then on, you and Thomas would always have lunch together, and a friendship formed. You carried most of the conversation but eventually he took to scribbling down what he wanted to say on some paper. You weren't sure if he couldn't talk or just didn't talk, either way you didn't mind. You had earned his trust, at least as much as anyone could right now, because you had always been so kind to him. Yes, he had thought it was a joke at first, but he really was starting to realise that you were being sincere. You were his friend.

You were one of the last to check out at the end of the day, often using the time after everyone had left to speak with Thomas some more. You really enjoyed your time together, even if he wasn't the most talkative person, you liked him.

After checking out, you headed back to the work floor, where you saw Thomas finishing up. But with him, was one of the worst offenders when it came to picking on him. One of the men who thought something of himself, thought himself to be better than everyone, especially Thomas.

He was, once again, berating the taller man. You rolled your eyes and walked over to them. "Get outta here, Pete. Ain't you got something better to do?" you sighed, hoping that the man would just leave without argument.

"You don't gotta defend him because you feel bad for him" Pete scoffed, looking Thomas up and down like he was some sort of spectacle.

"I don't feel bad for him, you're just an asshole and nobody should be subjected to having to listen to you" you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Oh come on, it don't bother ya, right?" Pete asked Thomas, acting as if the insults had just been some friendly banter but you knew better than that. "Probably doesn't even understand what I'm saying" he laughed when the other man didn't respond. "He's just some animal" his smile fell, his expression turning darker, as he glared up at him.

"Oh please, he's a better man than you. Smarter, kinder, more empathetic, better looking. You've got nothing on him, Pete" you glared at the man, suddenly becoming defensive over your friend. Your words made Thomas look down at you, shocked by what you had to say and even more by the sincerity.

"Better looking?" Pete scoffed, clearly amused by your compliment. You cringed a little, knowing you had accidently opened the floodgates, so you made sure to speak before he did.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately? I pity your poor wife" you looked him up and down disapprovingly, like the sight of him repulsed you. And in maybe ways it did.

This time, Pete didn't respond, he just glared before taking a step towards you. Though you were quite ready to handle yourself, you just looked up as Thomas moved to stand slightly in front of you, staring down at the man almost threateningly.

Pete looked up at the much taller man, looking like he was considering his chances before deciding that he would definitely lose. So, he backed down, glaring at both of you, before grabbing his coat and heading out of the door. Leaving only you and Thomas on the work floor.

"I hate that guy. I don't know why he's always picking on you" you let out a huff of annoyance as you dropped your arms to your sides.

Thomas turned back to you as you spoke...he could give you a few reasons...

"Thanks for standing up for me just then but you don't need too, I can handle myself. Anyway, I'm used to the men around here, most of them are pigs" your face and voice softened as you looked up at him.

But he still hung his head. 'Most of them are pigs', he's been called much worse but did you see him like that? Women definitely tended to avoid him like the plague, even though he really wasn't a threat to him, they seemed to think he was. Did you think that?

"Wish they were more like you" you chuckled, making him look at you again. You could see the surprise in his eyes and that made you frown a little. "Oh don't look at me like that. You're the best man I've met around here. Trust me, I feel more comfortable around you than our other co-workers" you told him sincerely but he still adverted his gaze, not believing you.

"Hey, come on, I mean it. I'm not messing with you. Y'know I wouldn't do that to you" you frowned a little, gently placing your hands on his arms. He had stopped flinching away from your touch now, something that he used to to regularly. "You need somebody to help you see how good you actually are..." you told him before insisting, "I meant everything I said, y'know."

His gaze met yours, curious but shy. You had noticed that he had rather expressive eyes.

"We both know how people look at you and I hate it because it's so wrong. I hate even more that you believe them" you sighed as you lowered your hands, stepping back to comfortably leaning back against his worktable.

"You are smart, smarter than anyone gives you credit for, all because you don't talk but that doesn't matter" you shook your head in disapproval. "You're kind and caring. You're always so sweet to me even though people can be so cruel to you. You stood up for me back there even though you didn't have too" you pointed out, "and I know you don't think it, that's clear enough to see, but...well, I think you're pretty damn handsome. And I'm sure I've told you that before".

You have...you have told him that before, always so unashamed about finding him attractive, but he always thought you were messing around.

"I know I've never seen you without the mask-" you continued, noticing how he tensed at the mention of the mask, "-but that doesn't bother me. I can see enough of your face to know you're attractive and you have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen" you compliment. A smile gracing your face when you saw his blush over the top of his mask.

Only then, you realised that you were speaking a lot and probably being a little overwhelming. Maybe he wasn't blushing from the flattery but from embarrassment or discomfort and that wasn't what you wanted at all.

"I'm sorry. I'm probably being a lot right now, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable" you apologised but he quickly shook his head to reassure you. "You don't mind it?" you asked and he shook his head again.

"Well, good" you smiled before reaching out and taking one of his larger hands in yours. "This isn't really how I wanted to bring it up, after an argument with some asshole at work, but...I've never lied to you, Thomas. I really do like you" you told him.

He still didn't talk but he did give your hand a small squeeze, a silent 'I like you too' that made you smile before gently guiding him closer to you. He stepped forward cautiously, like he was waiting for you to burst out laughing and for the hidden audience to come out laughing at him for thinking that he could ever have this for even a moment.

"This okay?" even though you knew he wasn't dumb like everyone else seemed to think, you sometimes worried you were taking advantage of him because he didn't talk and tended to just let things happen to him. For somebody so large and intimidating, he could be rather timid around you.

But he nodded.

You let go of his hand but only to place your hands on his shoulders, leaning up on your toes to carefully press a light kiss to his lips, ignoring the feel of the mask. You had actually planned on inviting him around for dinner, rather than approaching this in the middle of the factory, but this would have to do because it felt like the right moment. Oh well.

Thomas' hands instinctively rested on your waist to support you, since you had to strain on your toes to even reach up to him.

You had always found his height attractive but you couldn't deny it was a little bit of an obstacle right now. Thankfully, he also lent down so that you could relax a little and not have to strain so much to meet his lips.

But as quick as your lips touched his, you pulled away again, gaze scanning his face for a reaction.

His hands were still holding your waist, not wanting to move them and alert you to their presence just in case you became aware to them and decided you wanted them off of you, but also not wanting to pull them away and stop touching you.

He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck,  neither of you minding how he lent down for you to be able to do so.

Gaze closely scanning your face, he realised that you were watching him expectantly and Thomas froze up for a moment. You were waiting for him to do something, you wanted him to make the next move. For a moment he didn't think he could but your presence put him at ease, you always did.

You have always been so kind, so honest, and so accepting of him. Whenever you came around with that smile on your face, Thomas couldn't ignore the fuzzy feeling he got inside or the smile on his own face.

So, Thomas lent in again and kissed you.

It felt easy with you, it felt right, like this was what you were supposed to be doing. And he hoped that this was the start of something.

The kiss was a tad more forceful than you had anticipated but you blamed it on pent up emotion, and you weren't complaining at all. In fact, one of your hands moved to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss a little. You just couldn't help yourself.

At first you had control of the kiss, Thomas following your lead, learning from you. But he slowly became more confident. His hold on your waist becoming a little firmer, more sure, and taking the lead in the kiss, making you sigh happily into his mouth.

You guided Thomas a little closer, welcoming him into your personal space, and he moved willingly. He couldn't be close enough to you. He picked up on your eagerness, and even if it confused him, he didn't want to disappoint.

Each time one of you made an attempt to deepen the kiss, the other reciprocated it. The hand, that wasn't on the back of his neck, slipped over his chest and to his waist, wanting to feel more of him.

Both of you were a little surprised when your back hit the table behind you but you couldn't help but smile when Thomas' hands gripped your hips, easily lifting you up and sitting you atop the sturdy table.

Now, Thomas was able to straight up and press his body to yours better. Your arms returned to their place around his neck, sitting as close to the edge of the table as possible so that you could feel his strong form against you.

Maybe the two of you were getting a little carried away considering where you were...

But neither of you could help it. You had been pining after him for a while and Thomas felt the same. Plus, the amount of affection he was feeling and receiving in this moment was just overwhelming to him.

Just as you were completely forgetting where you were, the sound of a door slamming snapped you both out of the moment and made you pull away from each other. Both of you flustered as Thomas took a step away from you, the two of you turning to the sound.

Then the supervisor walked in, seeming surprised to see anyone still here. "What are you two still doing here. Get home, I need to lock up" he was more annoyed by you both than anything but you didn't plan on hanging around much longer.

"Sorry, Boss" you apologised as you grabbed your coat. "C'mon, Tommy, I'll drive you home" you offered as you turned back to him. Thomas nodded without hesitation and followed you out of the building, neither of you noticing the glance you both received from the supervisor.

Smiling up at Thomas, you wrapped your arm around his and guided him to your car. You knew that he usually walked to and from work, but you didn't mind giving him a lift at all.

[torifeelslikewritingagain]

Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Fred and you have never been sure of your feelings for one another.

Word Count: 7,823

Warnings: A bit of bad lenguage, and slow burn(?

A/N: This is the first thing I’ve written in 6-7 years, so let me know what y’all think, I’d appreciate it a lot:) Also, forgive any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my native lenguage, haha

GIF credit: @fgweasley​

Fred liked looking at you from afar.

He liked the way how you were different from all the other Slytherins even though you actually were like the rest of them.

Since your first year at Hogwarts, he’d taken a liking towards you. Of course at the beginning that liking was just friendly, he liked that he didn’t feel the need to punch you in the face, he’d never admit it tho, not even to George since they’d been taught to mistrust those in your house; but during that first year he’d always notice how you were the only Slytherin in the room who wouldn’t talk in class unless you were asked to by the teacher, he liked that you didn’t look at him or at George with despise. Of course, there were also times where the thought of you quietly and discretely planning a mass murder would cross his head, but you never gave a reason to worry that his suspicions were actually true.

Fast forward to your 3rd grade, after the winter break, he noticed in the platform how much your parents would actually show you their affection, that was also weird for the majority of the Slytherin kids he could recognize, and it wasn’t until that moment that George noticed him looking at you that he said:

“Oi, we’ve never pranked her, have we? Maybe we should pay more attention this year”

Fred felt terrible in that moment for having put you on George’s radar, he didn’t want to pull a prank on you, right? Although, to say the least, he was curious at how you’d react, after all, you weren’t insufferable like the most of your house, but you also weren’t the quiet mouse that you were during your first year, he’d seen you become more social, he’d notice how you would actively participate in Divination class asking Professor Trelawney real questions instead of mocking her like the rest of the students. He’d also see you talking to Abigail Rosier during dinner and often times he’d see you walking around the castle with her, so he concluded she must have been your best friend.

One night after dinner, when your fourth year was beginning,  he was sneaking away from Filch, until he overheard Malfoy yelling at someone:

“… keep defending them?”

“Because you insist on being a bloody cunt to them for no goddam reason!” It was the first time he had ever heard you say bad words, or even angry, you’d usually keep a neutral aura that was sometimes disrupted by your friends being funny or by him and George who had gotten a like to pull little harmless pranks on you. “They’re wizards too, Malfoy. Their blood status shouldn’t matter to you or anyone, that’s none of our business, they are just like us”

“Speak for yourself, I’m nothing like those blood-traitor weasels or that mudblood…”

“You’re right, the Granger girl is smarter than you could ever dream to be” In that moment he picked up what was happening, you, (y/n) Lafington, were defending his little brother and his friends, and you weren’t even friends. Were you? Did you think that them pranking you was being friends?

“My father will hear about this”

“Well, make sure to send him and your mother my love” He saw Malfoy starting to walk away “You’re children Malfoy, you don’t have to do this, leave them alone” He heard that last phrase with a smile on his face, now he could actually tell George that he liked you.

…

After the hallway incident, he rushed to tell George and Lee, who didn’t believe him; so he saw himself forced to subject to his brother the question if you were in fact, trash or not.

“Lafington?” Ron asked George back

“Isn’t she the girl who is always talking back to Malfoy?” Inquired Harry “You know, the one who is always around the chaser… eh.. Pucey!”

“Yeah! She is! I’ve talked to her in the library, we’re trying to convince McGonagall t…” At that point Fred had stopped listening, he was just happy to prove George and Lee that what he had seen was real, but he wasn’t so happy to hear that you were hanging around with someone as despicable as Adrian Pucey.

A few days later Fred noticed himself paying more attention to you, George did too.

“Just go talk to her”

“And say what? I was walking around the castle and decided to spy on you and Malfoy so now I want to say thank you for looking out for my brother and his friends when I couldn’t?”

“That’s not so bad, actually” George smirked, Fred felt immensely stupid, he couldn’t figure out what was it that he found so difficult about talking to you. “But if you’re not going to do anything, I guess that Adrian Pucey will” With that said, George walked away, making sure to bump into you, he apologized and smiled to you, as he kept walking, he turned to Fred to make sure he was watching, so he decided to seize the opportunity his twin created for him and approached you.

 ...

By the start of your fifth year, you had kind of developed a friendship. You liked the twins, you liked how at the end of last year they had sticked up for you when everyone turned against the Slytherins because of the Chamber of Secrets thing, you grieved the disappearance of their sister and celebrated when she was found, you liked how they didn’t take life too seriously and would always be there to make you smile.  

You liked how George would give you sweets when he had any on him, you also liked how much of a good listener he was, he was always there to hear you ramble about astrology, Slytherin’s gossip or a random book you had found at the library, out of the two of them, you were closer to him since Fred always seemed to have a weird face on when you were around, but it didn’t bother you that much, so you paid no mind.  You also liked how both of them didn’t make fun of you when you told them that you liked quidditch even though you didn’t know much about the teams, you liked playing it mostly, not watching.

Fred liked that about you too, so when you told the twins that Pucey was helping you train to try and join the Slytherin team that year, he felt his chest shrunk in relief, you weren’t flirting with Adrian, you were just being mates, after all, Slytherin is the most loyal house, and you all looked out for each other.  

You made your way into the team as a chaser, the twins were happy for you, and you were thriving! Quidditch had come sort of therapeutic for you, you loved the rush it brought when you were riding your broom so far from the ground, the sensation of danger when you knew that one the bludgers might hit you, you also loved the idea of getting out in an accepted way the rage that was always boiling inside of you.

Honestly, quidditch was the best thing that could have happened to you, it helped you to finally ditch what was left of your shell, as the season advanced everyone could notice how you were becoming more outspoken, more assertive, more popular; that didn’t mean that you were immune to the dementors watching around the castle, though. You just felt the need to express everything you were feeling, whether it was good or bad. And having those creatures around did affect you, despite to what everyone might have thought, you could be spotted arguing with Malfoy more often, you wouldn’t wait to keep things in the Slytherin common room anymore, you would just explode at any given moment. Professor McGonagall was worried about you, you’d always been one of her favorite students in your year, Snape on the other hand, was watching your character development rather amused, he told McGonagall that it was just matter of time that you actually started behaving like a real Slytherin, to what she refused to believe that he was right, so she decided to take the matters into her own hands.

“Professor, I swear on Merlin’s beard that we haven’t done anything punish-worthy in the last three days” Fred said while he and George sit at Professor McGonagall’s desk.

“Yeah, whatever happened to Filch has nothing to do with us this time” The professor looked at George in confusion to whatever it was that they had done this time, she hadn’t called them in for any of that matters.

“Mr. Weasley” she started “I actually called you and your brother for a different reason this time, although I would very much like to know what you did this time in order to automatically be defending yourselves. I wanted to speak to you about Miss Lafington”

“(Y/n)?” Asked Fred

“Yes, Mr. Weasley. I’ve noticed that you are rather close to her, and well, since she is one of my best students, I feel a little bit concerned about her attitude and mood lately”

This year you didn’t share your favorite classes with Gryffindor, which meant that the twins would often see the more reserved version of you in the classroom when the topic wasn’t of your particular interest, so Fred started to worry a little when Professor McGonagall said that; where you skipping class? Were you failing? He and George sat there in silence.

“Nothing unfixable, I want to assume, so I ask you both to remove that awful look from your faces. My guess is that the presence of the dementors, those terrible creatures, has been affecting your friend, as you may notice, a good portion of your classmates. So, as your head of house, I’m asking you to keep an eye on your friend and one of my dearest students”

“So, you want us to prank her more often” George asked with a smirk on his face.

“Mr. Weasley, please, be serious. I’m asking you to not let these things affect that girl more than they should. I’ve noticed that quidditch has become and outlet for her but it can only last so long, so maybe try getting her out of the dungeons and the aura that surrounds her house for a little bit. Distract her, put some positive thought in her head”

“I understand, Professor” Fred nodded, he felt that McGonagall was overreacting a bit, you all were growing and asserting your characters after all, but he did notice you a little more irritable than usual. “Count on us”

“Good” She concluded “Now, go to class” The twins went for the door and just when they were about to close it “And know that you both have detention today for whatever you did to Mr Filch”

…

Fred had no idea how to approach you without spilling the conversation he had with Professor McGonagall, so he let George do the wonder while he just kept looking at you from afar as he always had. He didn’t know why, but every day he looked at you, he swore that you looked better than the day before, sure, you had eye bags and looked tired from all the training, but he found you mesmerizing even when you had your hair up in a bun that looked like a bird’s nest. And he could notice all the boys were noticing you, too, now he didn’t only have to worry about Adrian Pucey, no, now he’d also had Lee, who found you extremely badass, Cedric Diggory, who was on the Hufflepuff team and had been asking about you to some of the younger Gryffindor girls, knowing that Fred & George would talk about you in the common room, even Oliver had taken an interest towards you because of how you played; the quidditch boys in general,  he didn’t worry about Marcus Flint, though, he knew that he was too ugly for you.

So he kept his distance, as a friend could, of course. You’d hang out with him and George more often as Fred tried to sort out his feelings for you. Was he still just curious about you? Or had he actually started developing something more than platonic? He knew that you were amazing, and he was glad that people had finally noticed you, but he’d also feel bummed out by that sometimes, he felt that one day you might stop talking to him and George. He worried about what you thought of him, mostly, because he knew that he wasn’t as good friend to you as George was, but it was because he didn’t want you to look at him just as a friend, did he?

Meanwhile, you were enjoying the extra time with the twins, by the end of the school year you had even helped them come up with some ideas for the joke products that they had started designing, you still liked having them around among most of the new people in your life. You felt infuriated when you didn’t win the house cup, Fred reassured you that your game was good, it just was Wood’s last season and no one loved quidditch more than he did. So one week before going on summer holidays, they asked you if you wanted to come to the Quidditch Cup with them and their family, you weren’t sure, so you said that you missed your parents and went home.

During the summer you wrote to both of them, and Fred insisted that you joined them on their trip, but you didn’t want to be a bother, what if you didn’t fit it? What if their parents didn’t like you? What if all of their family hated you because you were a Slytherin? They assured you that you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing, that their mum would love you and their dad would, too.

On the other hand, you were nervous about even asking your own parents, they didn’t hate the Weasleys or any other “blood traitors” in particular, they didn’t care about those things, but they hated drama, that’s why they would keep low profiles and had taught you to do the same. You hanging out with the Weasleys at school? No problem, teens could always be spreading rumors, but you knew that showing up with them at an event like the Quidditch World Cup would be interpreted as an statement, and you knew how delicate things were getting politically, so you obviously felt uneased to say the least, you loved your parents, and you knew the values that they had taught you, but you also were aware of the kind of world were you grew up in, a world where people like the Malfoys would find themselves trying to be pleased by everyone out of fear.

You didn’t respond to the twins for three weeks while you meditated your next move, you were dying to see them, but was that urge stronger than your loyalty to your family?

…

Turns out your mom had seen you so down that she decided to go around your stuff and found the twins’ letters. When you came home from spending a few days with Abby she welcomed you with the letters in hand at the tea room. “Well, that’s it. It was fun while it lasted” You thought to yourself, but much to your surprise your mother encouraged you to go with them.

“There was only one boy who wrote to me like this, and that boy grew to be the man I married and turned into your dad. -Pay no mind to the blood status- I believe that’s what your father and I have taught you” She said taking her tea cup in hand.

You didn’t know why she was acting like this; they had also taught you to avoid big conflicts, yet, here you were. “Sorry mom, I don’t think I follow”

“Do you know why you feel like standing up to Lucius’ son? Because it is in your blood. During my time at Hogwarts I was friends with some muggleborns, but unlike you, I let myself get carried away by my house peers, don’t make the same mistake, much less when it’s about love” You remained silent after she spoke, you didn’t know where did she get this idea that you loved Fred, because she was talking about Fred, right? He was the one who wrote to you more constantly. “I’ll talk to your father; we’ll discuss it over supper”

Confused was short for how you felt. But at least you’d get to spend some time with some of your best friends, so that night you wrote to Fred that you were, in fact, joining them in a few weeks. You felt your stomach sink the moment your owl left. What if him and George now hated you? What if they thought that you not responding for weeks meant putting an end to your friendship? As these questions wondered your brain, the doubt of why your mom started talking about love came, too. Cause she was talking about Fred, wasn’t she? Why was Fred the one who came to your mind for this matter? Maybe she was talking about George, you were closer to him, essentially. But it was the mystery that drove you back to Fred, because sure, you were friends, but he had that face when you were around, and you also felt that there was this barrier, not in a hostile way, but as an aura of, well, mystery. You knew that he was the one to like you first, George had told you that story about the hallway and you defending Ron, and how Fred basically ran to tell him, yet, you always seemed to feel it odd since Fred was a little distant. At first you thought it was just his personality, you had thought “maybe George is warmer” but you’d often see him hang out with other girls, too. He’d hug Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, just like George would, but he wouldn’t even let his arm brush yours unless George had started play-fighting and he had to intervene, so you just had thought that maybe he liked you, but he didn’t quite trust you. Until now.

What if your mother was right? What if Fred liked more as more than a friend? You couldn’t even begin to make sense to that idea, you had seen Fred around other girls, he was a master at flirting, he’d swoon them over. The thought of him fancying you didn’t add up to how he treated you, did it? You refused to give your heart false hopes and dismissed those thoughts quickly, you just went to sleep happy to create memories with your friends.

…

On the other hand, Fred thought that he would spend the most amazing time with you during these holidays, he had even started talking to George about his feelings for you trying to figure them out, but then his father told him that his friend, Amos Diggory and his son would also join the group, at least for the trip, and he felt like cursing the entire world. How could he define what he felt for you when Pretty Boy Diggory would be around? George knew, that Lee knew, that Tori knew because Annabelle had told her, that Cedric was interested in you, he was curious, too. The difference was that Diggory knew that he could charm anyone he wanted, he just had to play his cards right, while Fred couldn’t even begin to admit that he wanted to play his cards too.

You arrived at The Burrow a few days before the Cup, you got to spend time with the Weasleys and even Harry and Hermione, you knew Hermione from your late night study sessions at the library, but you had never actually had a conversation for Harry, you found him rather plain, not in demeaning way, but you could see that this boy had barely an idea of what he represented, he was just like any other boy his age. Molly loved you, even when you found hard to call her that instead of -Mrs. Weasley-, and Ginny liked you too, she liked having another girl who liked quidditch around to play, she was good, you bonded over the game. And she was kind enough to tell you that everyone noticed the small tension that was going on between you and Fred. At first you thought that she was just messing with you, after all, she was the sister of Hogwarts´ most prolific pranksters, but then one night Hermione joined the girl talk, luckily, the subject changed to Ginny’s crush on Harry, but you were left wondering, if people were repeating what your mother said, it might as well be truth, right?

You spent that night thinking about Fred, you liked how he snorted while laughing after a prank he had been planning for long turned out brilliantly, you liked how he would talk you out of pulling an all-nighter to study so you could go wander the castle with him and George. You liked how he would look out for you during the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin matches, much to Oliver’s dismay…

You loved how competitive he was. You loved how before each game he’d tried to place a bet, whether you both were playing or not. You loved how you two would exchange challenging looks from one side to the other of the field. You loved how defensive he got when it came to someone offending you or talking trash to your back. You fell asleep while thinking in all of the things that you loved about this boy, maybe you did have a crush on him…

The next day everyone was super excited, it was the game day, so you all got your bags and started walking into the forest. You were walking with a twin on each side when you saw a man with glasses come up to Arthur and greeted him. You heard Fred sigh and murmur something beneath his breath, but whatever he said was eclipsed by George saying “Now, the fun begins” with a huge devious smile on his face, you didn’t get it. Was this man someone that Arthur didn’t like that much? Were they work frenemies? Then your thoughts were interrupted by something falling from a tree, a someone, actually. Next to the man talking to Arthur was now standing the Hufflepuff’s team captain, Hogwarts’ golden boy: Cedric Diggory. You turned around for a brief second to look at Ginny and Hermione, who you could already see were starting to get a little face-heated from just looking at the boy, you didn’t blame them, every girl at school had a crush on him, and you weren’t the exception, you just were more discrete when it came to showing an opinion, plus you hadn’t been officially introduced to him, sure, you had played against him, but you had never crossed a word, so you felt that showing even the slightest hint of heart eyes for him was inappropriate, plus, now you had come to terms that you liked Fred more than just a friend, right?

He quickly noticed that you were all standing there looking at him so he came up to say hi.

“(Y/N), this is Hufflepuff’s team captain: Cedric Diggory; Cedric, this is (y/N) Lafington, Slytherin’s newest chaser” George introduced you after greeting him.

“Yes, I know exactly who she is” Cedric shook your hand firmly while he answered to George. Fred was silent. “You were the talk of all teams last year, how come no one had noticed you before?”

-Well, I noticed her since our first week at school, thank you-Fred thought to himself.

“I just…” You smiled at Diggory while shrugging your shoulders “I guess I wasn’t that interested in sports before, I’m more of a library mouse, actually”

“Oh, okay, so you’re smart, too. I get it. I like that” Oh Merlin, you liked Fred, but so did you liked having the most eligible man at school looking at you in the way he was.

George was having a blast mentally, he knew Fred was bloody pissed, but he thought that this was for his own good, Fred had to realize that you wouldn’t wait for him forever, so mayyyybe George actually had encouraged Diggory to hit on you. He felt like he was doing his best work as a best friend and as a brother.

During the rest of the walk, Cedric joined you and the twins, you all chatted a bit about school, and when you arrived at the game you went to the girl’s tent. Hermione and Ginny were craving details about Diggory, but you really didn’t have much to give them. Later, when you went looking for the twins, you didn’t find them, Cedric found you, though. You decided to take a walk around with him, while you were talking you got to know him a little better, he was a good guy; you picked up that the flirty smiles and eyes between you two were just denial when he mentioned Cho Chang, Ravenclaw’s seeker. This boy didn’t want to admit that his playboy days were over, you thought that was funny. Yeah, you still had a crush on him, but you realized that it was a platonic thing, you liked Cedric, as a friend.

After placing a bet with Ludo Bagman, Fred had gone back looking for you, when he saw you laughing along with Diggory he felt his stomach shrink and the bile rising through his chest to his throat, maybe Angelina was right, maybe you knew that he liked you but you just chose to ignore him, but he also George’s voice came to his head in your defense, how could you even begin to imagine what he felt for you when he could barely look you in the eye? Those beautiful (y/e/c) eyes. He took a deep breath and approached you, telling you that it was time to go to your seats, you said goodbye to Cedric and followed Fred.

“So…” You started while trying to keep with him “I was hoping that you could tell me a little bit about the teams that will be playing tonight…”

“Didn’t Diggory tell you any of that? Or was he just trying to get in your pants?” You stood completely frozen at what he had just said, Fred had never said anything mean to you, in fact, he’d go after anyone who mistreated you.

“Excuse me?” Was the one thing that you managed to express. Fred turned back to look at you and he crumbled a little on the inside when he saw the hurt in your eyes, the shock, he thought how cute you looked with your eyebrows furrowed like that, but he quickly realized that he had fucked up.

“Oh… I-…” He didn’t know how to apologize; he wasn’t used to get carried away by his emotions in that way. You didn’t say anything, you stood there maintaining eye contact, you were waiting for a proper apology. “Look, I’m sorry, that came out in a completely wrong way” He waited for a response but you gave him nothing “Fine” he sighed and walked over closer to you “I’m sorry, I really am” Nothing. “Hey, Lafts, I’m now begging for your forgiveness” He used your nickname, which you felt relaxed your forehead. “Pleeeaaaase…” In that moment you felt him taking your hand and putting to his mouth to kiss it while giving you puppy eyes.

“Okay, I accept your apology” You said with a small smile in return, and taking your hand away from his. “But what in hell has gotten into you?” You asked as you started walking again.

“I just don’t like that he thinks that he can have you that easily, I don’t want you to get hurt by one of the most famous playboys at school. That’s it” Fred knew that he had to be cautious about what he said, he didn’t want to sound like a complete lunatic, but he also didn’t want to confess his feelings for you in the middle of the scenario that you were standing right now in.

You also didn’t want to keep going with this fight, so you accepted his excuse and kept going, even though on the inside you were still upset about him talking to you that way. When you arrived at your seats you placed yourself between Ginny and George, avoiding Fred. George resumed the season to you before the game started, you saw Draco and his dad, who offered you joining them in the box, but you refused politely with a simple “Thank you Mr. Malfoy, but I’ll stay with my friends for this once” which made everyone look at you with inquire, you explained that Lucius Malfoy was one of your father’s oldest business partners, so it was better to keep things light with him, Draco was different story; that last part relaxed the tension and made everyone laughed.

During the game you could occasionally feel Fred’s gaze on you, you’d sometimes look back, letting him know that you weren’t angry, but still you didn’t want to engage a conversation with him yet.

You had a good time, even though you still liked playing better than just watching, the twins and Ginny were really happy that Ireland had won. After you exited the stadium Arthur told everyone that you’d have dinner an hour later, so you returned calmly to the tents, while you were walking you started hearing people screaming and some even running, you looked at the twins but they were just as confused as you.

“Spread!” Arthur yelled at you “Spread! Hide! Fred, George, watch your sister” at a not so long distance you could see people with some weird masks marching forward and destroying the tents around, then it hit you.

“Death Eathers” you barely mumbled. You turned to see Harry, Ron and Hermione already running “Go” you said firmly now to the twins, you pushed them and Ginny in the opposite direction where the Death Eaters came. “Go. They won’t hurt me. At least I think so, go, hide, protect Ginny” George nodded and took Ginny by the hand, the started walking.

“Oi!” Fred called them, but they didn’t listen, he turned to you, and grabbed you by the arm “I’m not leaving you here, let’s go”

“No, Fred. You’re a blood traitor” you got rid of his grip

“So are you!”

“Yes, but my family never talks about this publicly, no one knows. I won’t put them at risk” You knew that the words were hurting him, but he knew that it was truth, your parents’ business depended on them remaining neutral, no one really knew about your family’s blood status views unless they were close to you. “Look, Fred” You could hear the chaos closer and closer “You know I love you guys, and you know I value your friendship, but right now I really need you to go and look for George and Ginny, I can take care of myself” Just like he did with you a few hours earlier, you could see the hurt in his eyes, you knew your mother liked him from the letters, but you couldn’t bare the idea of putting her in danger for a simple crush. “I promise I’ll look for you guys when this is over, I’ll go help your dad” You kissed his hand and pushed him away “GO!”

You barely could see him running away because you turned around and started casting transfiguration spells on yourself, if you were getting into this fight, you’d make sure that no one behind those masks could recognize you.

When the dark mark was casted onto the sky, the Death Eaters started vanishing, everyone remained shook, when you made sure that none remained there, you started waking back to the party’s tent, there you returned your appearance back to normal, when you came out you saw Arthur returning, he recognized the clothes you were wearing and hugged you. “Thank you” he said as soon as you broke apart, you put your hand on top of his on your shoulder “No problem, Mr. Weasley. I just wish I could have done it without wasting time putting a costume on”

“You helped innocent people, and that should be enough” He gave you and honest smile and went inside the tent. Later when everyone had returned, you all returned to The Burrow, where you all were warmly welcomed by a worried Molly Weasley, who had heard everything from the news.

“Oh, dear, I assume your parents must be worried about you, you should write to them” She said to you as soon as she had the chance, and you agreed, so you thought that the best was to return home the next day.

…

Your parents weren’t that worried about you, actually, they knew that you were a fighter, but they did look worried about how thing would start changing from here on in, you told them that you made yourself unrecognizable when the Death Eaters showed up, which your father thanked you.

Over the next few weeks you wrote to the twins and your other friends, you even exchanged letters with Cedric Diggory (to whom George had felt the freedom to give your address) You just wanted to go back to Hogwarts and get away from all of the political problems going on, you wanted to go back to normal, where you could actually be you and give zero shits about blood status, you couldn’t wait enough for your 17th birthday, the day your freedom would came; if you were seventeen your parents would get excluded from all of your personal decisions. But for now, you could just keep on dreaming.

During the first week of class of your sixth year, you looked for the twins, they greeted you with the warmest of hugs, especially Fred (which surprised you) and you offered them an apology for bringing up the blood thing the day of the game, they were really understanding.

“Don’t worry, dad was amazed at how feisty you turned out to be, he didn’t see it coming, he snitched on you with us” George words made you giggle “Changing your looks to kick ass? That’s clever”

“Yeah, maybe you could help us perfect those spells so Snape and Filch can’t know who came for them” Fred added with a wink.

That same week you learned that this year you wouldn’t have quidditch because Hogwarts would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament, those were terrible news for you, but still, you felt excited about having exchange students over, and the twins had the idea that you could still play quidditch on your free time during the weekends, it wouldn’t be the same, but you were okay with it.

Fred wouldn’t admit it, but he really wanted you to accept the idea of weekend quidditch, because that was the first step on his plan to conquer you. When he heard his dad speaking so highly of you, he was certain that he was totally in love with you, the fear of losing you that he felt the day before, the way he reacted when he saw that Cedric could make you laugh too; the way his tummy felt when you kissed his hand, the way he suffered every minute while he hid knowing nothing of you and dreading the worst, he scolded himself mentally for letting you go, he should’ve gone with you, he shouldn’t have left you alone in a situation like that; All of that made  sudden sense to him while his father kept telling the story, he didn’t just have a crush on you, he wasn´t just curious, he was head over heels in love with you. So he asked for Charlie’s advice, and he designed a plan to ask you out  s u a v e m e n t e, the original plan involved hanging out after quidditch practice, so when quidditch got cancelled he had to improvise. He also had an advantage this year, you guys shared Potions class, which Fred knew was one of your favorites, so he would be able to talk to you during class because of Snape’s favoritisms towards Slytherins.

The weeks passed and you started noticing how George would always disappear when the tree of you were supposed to hang out, leaving you alone with Fred, you didn’t mind, you loved the way his red hair would look at night with the dim lights of the castle at night, and he loved the way your eyes lit up when you looked at the stars. Truth is that you two were getting closer, closer than friends, none of you said a thing about it, but you both could feel the connection growing. When the Yule Ball was announced you were sure that Fred would ask you to be his date, so you and Abby went dress shopping, she really didn’t like the idea of you getting with a Gryffindor, much less a Weasley, but she was happy that you had someone just like she had her Durmstrang student.

When you got to the shop Hogsmead and started looking at the fabrics, you noticed that other girls were already there, between them you could notice the girls of Gryffindor’s quidditch team, you paid no mind to them nor to their whispers and dirty looks. Abby went away for a moment to try on a dress that she liked, when she came back she had an annoyed look on her face.

“You didn’t like it?” You thought it was the dress “You know that’s just the sample one, they can make it for you in a different color”

“It’s not that” she said, putting the dress back “I liked the dress”

“Then why the face?”

“Look” she started “I know that you like the Weasley boy, much to the house’s dismay, and I’m trying (y/n), I’m really trying to keep my nose out of this because I like seeing you happy” she paused for a second before going, you could see that her mind was working trying to say something.

“Abby, it’s okay, I can take it” What could it be? Had he gotten in a fight with Adrian again?

“When I was in the changing room I could hear Angelina Jhonson talking about how excited she was to be attending the ball with Frederick”

“Well, that’s a shame for her, he’s going to ask me”

“That’s the thing Lafts, he asked her already, not you, her.” You could see that Abby was trying to hold it together, she was quite protective of you, but you did recognize that she was trying to not hate Fred. “I know it sounds terrible and I don’t know, maybe those twits are tryin’ to play mind games on us, but you should definitely check that out; I don’t want this night that we’ll probably remember forever to be ruined for you by some stupid scumsucker”

You were speechless, you didn’t know what to say, you were certain that Abigail wasn’t fond of the twins, but you also knew that she just wouldn’t lie about it, so when she had her order on her dress made, you two returned to the castle.

That night at dinner you had a hard time spotting Fred at the Great Hall, you also had a hard time spotting him anywhere in the castle, when you went to George for answers he responded with a simple “Love you both, I’ve done plenty trying to help Fred. I’m not getting in the middle of this mess” And walked away, which left you feeling even more confused and angry than before, why were they shutting you down? You wrote to your mom to know if anything big had happened outside the school, but she said nothing had really came up. You were left with nothing, the next few days George made sure to let you know that he was still there for you, but he drew the line when it came to talking about Fred. Something inside of you said “See? You were right, Fred didn’t really like you, it was all in your head; if not, then how come only George is here now?” And you didn’t want to give this voice the reason, but it was the only thing in your mind. 

The days passed and the ball came, you ended up attending it with Adrian, after all, you and him were really good friends. You were having a great time with your friends, you even danced a piece with Cedric, then George came to you, too. Fred remained far away, you could see him on the dance floor with Angelina, as Abby said; you felt your heart break a little more every time you looked at him, you were angry at him, but you were also angry at yourself, how could you had let yourself think for a minute that someone like him could fall in love with you? You were opposites, and everyone knew it, and everyone made sure you were reminded of it at all times. A slow song came on and Adrian said to you that he would try to dance with some girl from Beauxbatons, so you went to sit down for a bit. You watched all the couples dancing with a bit of longing, you saw that Ginny was there with a boy and you felt your heart melt for a moment, not everyone was having a rough night.

“Not having fun?” You heard George’s voice behind you.

“Eh” you shrugged your shoulders “I’ve been better” you turned your head to look at him.

“Well” He hunched over to be at your level “I see Pucey dancing with someone and my date blew me off too, wanna go wreck someone’s make out session?” That last part with wiggling eyebrows. He made you chuckle.

“Fine” You said rolling your eyes. You took your clutch and followed him through the hallways, you walked quietly, trying to spot any couple to scare. Suddenly George came to a stop in front of a door. You looked at him with questioning eyes, he nodded, letting you know that there was someone in there.

“You go first” He whispered. You smiled, excited. You got your wand ready. When George opened the door, you pointed your wand but before you could say anything you were surprised by Fred Weasley standing in front of you. Well, he was actually pacing, but still, he was in front of you. You turned to George.

“I thought you said t-“

“I know what I said” He cut you off. “But I’m doing this for you, not for him” He looked at both of you before closing the door and leaving you there.

You stood there in silence for a couple of minutes, you didn’t even want to look at him, you were hurt.

“So, I saw you dancing with Diggory…”Fred finally broke the silence.

“Really? Are you seriously bringing that up?” You decided to look at him and when your eyes met you felt the world freeze. You stared at each other. Fred had been watching you from afar, too. But now that he had you close, he was taken out of breath of how good you looked. The way your dress made your skin pop, the way your eyes were glowing thanks to the make-up, he could also see the lip gloss that you had been reapplying all night.

“Fred?” Your voice brought him back from his mind. “You know what? I don’t even know why I decided to stay, I should’ve left with George” You headed for the door but he quickly got up and stood before you.

“No. You know why” You got chills, you didn’t know if they came from the cold of the classroom you where standing in or from the look in his eyes. He took off his jacket and tried to covered you with it.

“No” You said stepping back and putting your hand in front of you. “You don’t get to play prince charming with me, not after you ignored me for a month… Why did you do it..?”

Fred didn’t know what to say, he knew that the moment to confess his feelings to you had arrived, but he felt too dumb to say something.

“You know Fred? If you didn’t like me you could’ve just been straight forward about it.” You started talking trying to keep your voice neutral. “You didn’t have to pretend to be my friend all these years, the worst part of it is that these last few months I felt like something beyond a friendship was growing between us” That was it, you gulped, your voice broke “You didn’t have to make me fall in love with you and then break my heart” Fred rose his head. You crossed your arms over your chest trying to keep all your feelings in.

“Wait a second, love, rewind a little bit there” He was in shock, he walked towards you. “You’re in love with me?” You could hear the surprise in his voice. Was he now laughing at you?

“You’re impossible, Weasley” You headed for the door again, but Fred grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. “Let m-“ You felt his lips crash on yours, shutting you up. You responded to his kiss, you could sense desperation in it.

“I’ve liked you since our first year” He said when you finally broke away “I’ve always felt keen on you. I love you. I shut you out because I was too scared of my own feelings, I’ve never felt this way for anyone else. I figured out that if I just cutyou off, all the feelings would go away, but they didn’t.” You looked at him mouth-opened, not knowing what to say, you both had been feeling this way but you were too scared to admit it.

“You’re an idiot” You finally managed to say. He kissed you again.

“Yes, I am, I am the biggest idiot ever” Kiss “but please say you won’t pay mind to the all the bloody talking and you’ll be my official girlfriend” He pecked you on the lips again.

“Yes, yes, okay” You laughed.

You stood there for a while, laughing at how obnoxious you both had been the last few years. You were in love with Fred, and Fred was in love with you. You weren’t waiting for you 17th birthday anymore, you were making up for all the lost time, everyone else could go to hell.

[ificanthaveu]

Open Door Policy || Shawn Mendes

Description: You and Shawn Mendes have always been best friends, neighbors and cowriters until you start feeling something more. But how do you tell the guy you write love songs with that you think you love him?

A/N: OK this is another one of those fics that came from a day dream and spun together really quickly. I honestly don’t have much to say and I feel like I usually do but I hope you love it :)

Word Count: 4.5k

As time ticked by so did your patience. 

It was nearly 11:00 pm on a Friday, and the last place you wanted to be was in the studio with an up and coming singer-songwriter who thought he was a lot better than he actually was. 

You sighed as you leaned back in your chair, watching Hayden scribble something down from the other side of the glass before looking up at you and motioning for you to turn on your mic. 

“I got something,” he said with a big grin. 

That phrase usually meant you had at least another hour of work to do. 

“Shoot,” you said as you grabbed your notebook, prepared to fix the line however you could. 

He pointed at his notebook with his pen before saying, “we’re meant to be, but we haven’t figured that part out yet.”

You cocked your head to the side and nodded, the line showing that maybe he was making progress. 

“It’s supposed to be you and me, we haven’t figured this out, but I know somehow we’re meant to be?” You said with questioning in your tone as you switched words around to make it rhyme and flow. 

“I like that,” Hayden said, jotting down the line again and erasing other things. 

“Um, not to rush you, bud, but how much longer are you thinking of working?” You said carefully. 

He glanced at his phone propped up next to him. 

“Maybe just fifteen minutes? Finish the chorus, and we can finish it and record it next time I see you?” He asked. 

You nodded your head as you took note of that. 

“Next Tuesday still work?” You asked. 

“Perfect,” he said as he hung his headphones up to sit next to you and finish the chorus. It just needed a line or two, or the start of a line or two, and then you could just go home. 

“Alright, well, dig into that line you just said,” you started as you turned towards him as he pulled up his chair. “How do you know, but still don’t know?”

He sighed and leaned back, looking at the ceiling and turning his chair in circles slowly. 

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. 

You tried not to sigh and hang your head, knowing his one line wasn’t going to carry through to a whole chorus. 

“I’m just thinking of, like, two friends. And they’ve been friends for a while and there’s this looming feeling that they’re going to end up together, but they just don’t know when or how, and honestly, have kind of been avoiding that feeling without even realizing they’re doing it,” he tried to explain. 

“So, everyone knows, no one wants to say it?” You offered. 

“Exactly,” he said as he rested his elbows on the table. 

You looked through some lines you had written before, trying to see how you could alter them and fit them into the song to convey what he just told you. 

“Stuck between something we can’t see…” you trailed off, writing it down in your notebook. “What if we never know what this is really about?”

Silence floated between the two of you as you both wrote them down.

“Man, I was thinking of going towards a happier ending with his, but I like where you’re going,” he said as he closed his notebook. 

You shrugged your shoulders, following suit as you put your notebook in your bag along with a few of your other things scattered in front of you. 

“Guess that’s just the feelings that want to come out of me right now,” you said with a soft smile.

Hayden looked at you for a moment before standing up. 

“I’m not giving up on that happy ending of the song,” he said as he walked to the door, he leaned against the doorway for a moment before continuing. “And neither should you.”

Once he left, you leaned your head against the edge of the chair. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but he was always really good at reading you. Which is why you worked well together. And why you were the cowriter on most of his songs. 

You finally picked yourself up and gathered your things before locking up the studio. Once you got in your car, you glanced down at your phone for the first time in the past few hours. 

5:12 - Shawn: When do you get home? Pizza night?

6:36 - Shawn: Maybe Chinese?

7:04 - Shawn: You know, at this point I might just eat cardboard. 

** Missed call - Shawn Mendes - 8:47**

8:48 - Shawn: [Y/N], I’m starving. 

9:15 - Shawn: Ok, so I ordered pizza and ate, like, half of it. But stop over once you get home and eat the rest, please. 

9:57 - Shawn: I know you don’t like that Hayden guy…is it because he’s been planning to kill you? Are you DEAD?

10:51 - Shawn: FINE, this is my last text, but actually please call me on your way home, so the pizza can be heated up and ready for you :)

You smiled down at the multiple messages before shaking your head and wiping it off your face. You pressed on his contact and put him on speakerphone before pulling out. 

“Thank God. You’re not dead,” he answered. 

“What do you expect when I’m with Hayden? We never finish anything in a timely manner,” you said through a laugh. 

“You finish things in a timely manner. He does not,” Shawn reminded you. 

You heard him rustling around as you assumed he was getting the pizza. 

“I got pepperoni by the way, and my door is unlocked,” he said. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said as you made the final turn into your apartment complex. “I just pulled in. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“See ya,” he said before hanging up. 

You gathered your things and locked your car before heading into the building. You stopped by the front desk to grab a package that was delivered before taking the elevator to the top floor. 

There were only four apartments on the top floor. One of them was owned by you. Two were being taken up by rich couples who traveled for a living and were never really there. And the last one was Shawn. 

You’d met him through James when you started writing with him when he was on tour with Shawn at the beginning of their careers. You were young and inexperienced, as was James, so you made a good duo. You had no idea Shawn lived in the apartment across from you until after you started moving your things in almost a year after you first met. Shawn kept an eye on your apartment when you were gone, and you did the same for him. But if you asked anyone, it was more like the two of you lived together with how often you’d just walk across the hall into the other’s place. 

The elevator dinged, and you made your way to Shawn’s door. You opened the door, and Shawn peaked his head past the wall to see you. 

“There you are!” He said with a big smile. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here. Alive,” you said as you set your phone on the counter. “Lemme run this stuff over.”

You crossed the hall, not bothering to close Shawn’s door before you opened your own, also not bothering to close it, and set your package just beyond the door before going to your room to change. 

You heard Shawn’s footsteps outside your bedroom before he said, “Do you want a Coke with your pizza?”

“You shouldn’t have to ask that,” you said through a sigh as you opened your door, this time in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. 

Shawn rolled his eyes. “It’s almost midnight.”

“You can’t have pizza without Coke,” you reminded him. 

“Alright, fine,” he said as you followed him back to his kitchen, closing both doors behind you. 

Shawn had your pizza set out for you with a glass of Coke next to it. He sat down across from you as you took your first bite.

“Write anything good today?” He asked, sipping at his water. 

You nodded your head and swallowed. “Yeah, he actually came up with some pretty good lines today. I don’t know if it’ll be a single, but it’ll make the album.”

“What’s it about?” 

“Being friends with someone, and kind of knowing you’re going to end up with them, but not really knowing when or how or how to even convey those feelings,” you said slowly. 

“Sounds complicated,” he said. 

“You bet,” you mumbled before taking a sip. 

“Have you ever felt that?” Shawn asked. 

“Felt what?”

“You just described it,” he said with a small smile. 

You returned the smile and took another sip. 

“Yeah, but I need you to explain it another way, so I can use it for the final verse.”

“Do I get a writing credit?”

“That’s up to Hayden, so probably not.”

He laughed as he leaned his elbows on the table and cocked his head to the side. 

“The questioning,” he started before pausing and looking out the window behind you. “Like you’re with this person and one moment, you think, this is it. This person is the one you’re going to spend forever with. And then the next…” he trails off. “You’re doubting everything you’ve ever known about them. About love. About the two of you. And you don’t want to screw it up. Because you’d rather ignore the love you feel than screw up this beautiful thing you already have.”

You stayed quiet as he described it. You didn’t notice you hadn’t responded until your eyes met his, and you nodded your head. 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I get it. It’s complicated.”

“Exactly,” he said just as quietly. 

It went quiet again as you finished your slice of pizza. 

“Did I just give you your last verse?” He said through a smile. 

You shrugged as you grabbed your notebook from your bag and scribbled down a few of the words and phrases he used: questioning, moments, doubt, beautiful thing, screw it up. 

“We’ll see. Hayden wants a happy ending, but with where we are now, I don’t know if that’s going to happen,” you said as you looked Shawn in the eyes. 

“Never know,” he responded. 

“That’s what he said.”

“I think he’s smarter than we give him credit for.”

Shawn took your plate from you and put it in the dishwasher as you kept sipping at your drink and adding notes to the words you just added. 

“So…I know you’ve been writing all day, but-“ Shawn started before you cut him off by holding your hand up. 

“No ‘but’s. It’s almost midnight,” you said. 

“[Y/N], I already owe you my life and my firstborn child. Please, for the life of me, just look at the verse I’ve written so far,” he begged. 

You groaned as you rested your head on the counter in front of you. 

“Do I get a writing credit?” You mumbled. 

“You have a writing credit on half the songs on my new album,” he said as you lifted your head up. “And you’ll have it on this one, too. Like always.”

“You’re too nice to me, Mendes,” you said as you stood up and walked towards his piano in his makeshift studio. 

Shawn sat down at the piano, and you leaned on the side of it. 

He started playing softly and humming along to the song inside his head. You got lost in how his hands moved across the piano and how his body moved when he pressed down on a pedal, watching the expression on his face as he sang. 

“So, what do you think?” He asked. 

You hadn’t even registered anything he just sang. 

“Um,” you said softly as you sat down next to him to look at the lyrics jotted down on his notebook and quickly read over them. “Well, I like the music.”

“That was the most backhanded compliment you’ve ever given me,” he said through a laugh. “Do you like any of the lyrics?”

“Don’t say, ‘I’m falling in love,’” you said as you took the pencil out of his hand and crossed out the line. “There are so many better ways to say that and falling in love is a made-up term by The Bachelor.”

“It is not made up,” he defended. “You’ve never felt that feeling? That feeling of knowing you’re going to be in love with someone, but not quite there yet?” He asked. 

You shrugged as you looked down at the keys your hands were laid on. 

“I just think there are better ways of saying you’re falling for someone,” you said quietly. 

“Enlighten me,” he said as he turned to look at you, leaning his elbow on top of the piano. 

“Feeling something I’ve never felt before, the start of something worthwhile, the beginning of what could be,” you rattled off. 

“None of those fit in the other lyrics,” he said. “And I write what I feel, and this is what I’m feeling right now.”

“You’re falling in love? How are you so sure?” You asked, not even wanting to know who it could be. 

He shrugged as he tore his eyes away from you to play the notes again. 

“You just know,” he whispered before looking at you. “And that’s how I know you’ve never felt it.”

Your hands slammed down on the keys as you let them loosen up. 

“I had a boyfriend for over a year before I came out here,” you reminded him. “And I loved him.”

“But were you in love with him?” He asked. 

“There is no difference.”

“There is definitely a difference.”

“Well, then I guess I don’t know it,” you said a little louder than expected. “Happy?”

Shawn didn’t say anything as he stared down at his hands. You ran your hands down your face before staring at the lyrics jotted across his notebooks and your harsh line drawn through them. It was safe to say that you weren’t feeling the love songs. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, still not looking at him. “I just haven’t really been in the right headspace to write happy love songs.”

“Why?” He asked. 

You shook your head softly. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s always complicated.”

“Yeah.”

Silence filled the room again as you both sat facing the piano, your legs almost brushing up against each other. 

“I should go to bed,” you whispered. 

“Yeah, yeah, me too,” he said back. 

Neither of you moved, still staring at the piano or the notebook or the wall behind both. 

“I have a question,” Shawn whispered. 

You didn’t respond and instead turned to look at him. 

He cracked a smile as he looked at you and said, “How do you write the best love songs I’ve ever heard when you’ve never experienced being in love?”

“Talent and a romcom obsession,” you said with a smile. 

Shawn laughed and leaned his head back for a moment. 

“Well, you got me there.”

You both stood up at the same time, and Shawn followed you out of the room. You grabbed your phone and bag off the counter before making your way to the door. 

“I’ll see you later,” you said with a smile before Shawn nodded at you and you left. 

Shawn sighed and hung his head back as he nearly punched the wall in front of him. But instead of having to explain that to your building manager again, he went back to his studio, playing the same notes over and over again, not getting what you said out of his head. 

Meanwhile, you willed yourself not to cry as you climbed into your bed and pulled your covers up over your head. You sighed and laid on your back, staring at your ceiling. 

You couldn’t blame Shawn for anything. He loved everything he encountered. 

You just couldn’t do it as easily as him, which is something he couldn’t really wrap his head around. 

Because how were you supposed to write love songs about the guy who was writing them about someone else?

You could hear his piano still playing softly. Your phone lit up before you could text him. 

Shawn: You were right. “The beginning of what could be” sounds way better.

You smiled softly before quickly typing back. 

[Y/N]: Go to bed, rockstar. 

—

You heard rustling just moments before a pillow hit you in the head. You groaned and rolled over, burying your head underneath the covers. 

“Get up,” Shawn said as he kept hitting you. 

“No,” you mumbled as you glanced at your watch. “We didn’t go to bed until nearly 1:00 am, and you’re waking me up at 8:00? What have I ever done to you?”

“You said you’d work out with me this morning,” he said with a tinge of sadness in his voice as you turned to look at him. 

“I thought you meant around 11:00.”

“That is not the morning.”

“It most certainly is.”

“Please, I’m hanging out with Brian and Connor at noon, and you promised me,” he begged. 

“I have never broken a promise with you,” you started. 

“Exactly.”

“...and now’s the perfect time to start,” you finished, turning over again. 

“What? No,” he said, yanking your covers off you and off the bed completely. 

This made you shoot up and glare at him. 

“Are you going to be the one to make my bed now?” You asked. 

“No, now get dressed. Let’s go,” he said as he walked out of your room. 

Ten minutes later, and you were walking out of the building for a run with Shawn, still cursing him that you were up this early on a Saturday. But once your music started playing and you started running, you weren’t threatening his death any longer. 

You followed closely to Shawn as he lead the way through your usual route to a park down the street. The plan was to run there, hike and then run back. 

You made it to the park and slowed to a walk as you followed a path that Shawn picked. 

“Any chance you’re available to head to the studio at some point this week?” Shawn asked with a pleading smile. 

You rolled your eyes at him before you answered, “I’m pretty booked, so it depends. I think Thursday morning is the only thing I can do unless you want to do it at midnight.”

“I can make Thursday morning work,” he said, dodging a branch. “I’m going to need help finishing that song then because you were definitely right.”

“I always am,” you said with a smile as he bumped his shoulder into you. 

“Also, I’m sorry about last night. I went too far with the love thing,” he said quietly. 

You nodded your head, not wanting to look at him. 

“It’s fine. I guess no one’s ever really asked about it. I just wasn’t prepared,” you paused. “And you know I’m not as good at saying things as I am as turning them into a song.”

“You and me both,” he replied. “How come you don’t write a song about it then?”

“About never being in love?”

“Yeah, it’s real feelings. It’s what you’re feeling right now. And maybe for once, you could keep it for yourself,” he said. 

“I don’t sing. I write,” you reminded him. 

“You can definitely sing.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to do it in front of people.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m just saying it could help to write about it since you don’t want to talk about it. I know how you are,” he reminded you. “I know this would be a lot easier than talking about it. Even if you just trash the song after, and it never sees the light of day.”

“Maybe I will,” you said with a nod. 

“I won’t be home until late tonight, so the piano is all yours,” he tempted. 

“You really know how to get me,” you said with a laugh. 

“Better than you’ll ever realize.”

—

You heard Shawn’s apartment door slam as he left to go see Brian and Connor. You took that as your cue to grab your notebook and laptop and head over to Shawn’s apartment. 

The door was unlocked as usual, and you grabbed water from his fridge before going to his little studio. You set your things down on top of the piano before making yourself comfortable. 

You didn’t even know where to start. You weren’t used to writing something like this. You didn’t even know what things you said in songs about not being in love. 

You pressed a few keys, trying out a melody you had come up with a few days before. You hummed slowly to it, writing down words that came to mind. 

“But maybe I’m wrong,” you sang quietly. “Maybe it’s been in front of me all along.”

You wrote it down before sitting back again. 

“Maybe my front door has always been open, maybe you’ve always walked through, maybe it’s always been you,” you sang louder. 

“I’ve never felt like this,” you paused. “But with you, I wouldn’t mind.”

You wrote it all down quickly as it flowed out of you, taking Shawn’s idea and mixing it with how you’ve been feeling about him lately. 

You tapped your pencil along your notebook as you thought of the next verse, getting lost in what time it even was as you finally felt like you were being honest about what you were feeling. 

— 

He heard it before anything else. As the door cracked open, the soft noise of the piano and the hum of your voice came rushing out of the room as if it had to get out. As if it had to be anywhere but with you. As if it was looking for Shawn and trying to pull him in. 

Shawn didn’t make a noise as he walked into his apartment and made his way to the studio to see you still sitting at the piano, putting your whole body into the keys of the piano and into the words you were singing. 

He almost spoke up until he listened. 

Your voice sounded so delicate yet powerful as you maneuvered into the chorus of the song, singing about feeling things you’d never felt before. The subtle references to a neighbor and unlocked doors didn’t make it past Shawn. He could feel his cheeks heating up as he didn’t know whether to walk out and act like he hadn’t heard it or just sit down next to you. 

Before he could make the decision, you made it for him as you turned to grab your water but froze when you saw him standing there. You could see his pink-tinted cheeks from a mile away. 

“Shawn,” you said softly, feeling your heart beat out of your chest, stuck between hoping he’d heard it and hoping he didn’t.

“Hey,” he said back just as soft. 

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah.”

Silence filled the room as Shawn finally moved to the piano bench to sit next to you, your legs pressed against one another as both of you tried to calm your breathing. 

“It’s a beautiful song,” Shawn finally said, letting his hands land on the keys and looking up at your notebook with scribbles and lyrics. 

“Thanks,” you choked out. 

“Sounded like you were really saying what you felt,” he paused. “What you truly felt?” He said in a questioning tone as he looked at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Uh,” you paused, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this one. “Yeah,” you said through an exhale of breath. 

Shawn played the notes you had written out, the only noise being the music he was playing. 

The music you had just written about him. 

“It’s beautiful.”

“You said that already.”

Silence filled the room again as Shawn stopped playing. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he said quietly. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” you said quickly after. “You really don’t.”

“But I want to,” he said slowly as he turned to look at you. 

“What do you want to say?” You asked. 

“What’s this song about?” He asked in return. 

You went silent, turning away from him and back to staring at your notebook. 

“About not knowing what love is until you think you’ve found it.”

“And did you find it?”

“I don’t know. That’s the whole point of the song.”

“Open doors and something that feels like it could be more,” he sang softly. 

“Please just say something,” you finally said. 

Shawn stayed quiet and your head told you to run. 

You grabbed your notebook and laptop with one swoop as you stood up and walked out of the room. You heard the screeching of the piano bench as Shawn stood up quickly to follow you, catching you as you left his apartment. 

He grabbed your wrist to stop you before you made it to your door. You didn’t turn around and willed yourself not to cry as you gripped onto your things with all the life you had left in you. 

“They’re about you,” he said as he let go of you. “Every song I’ve written for the past year. They’ve all been about you.”

Your heart beat out of your chest as you turned to look at him. His cheeks were just as pink as before and he was breathing heavily, his chest moving just a little too quickly as he just stared at you. 

“It’s funny. It’s really actually really funny because you help me write most of my songs. You’ve been writing songs about yourself for over a year now and -“

Before you could overthink it, you took a step forward and pressed your lips to his to shut him up. After a moment of shock, his arm held onto your hip and pulled you closer to him as his other hand held your chin up. Your left arm stayed around your laptop and your right one found its way to his cheek. You only stopped once you thought you were about to drop everything, but even then, your forehead stayed settled against his as you both breathed heavily. 

“It’s about you,” you whispered. “You said to write it into a song. About never being in love. But you were right. I think falling in love is more real than I gave you credit for.”

“How so?” He said as a smile graced his face. “You falling in love or something?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Maybe you can just sing it for me sometime?”

“My door is always open.”

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[1nsomniacwriter]

Remus and his fears

This is an Au of mine where Logan has a library that none of the other sides but Remus are allowed in without express permission. I call it the Library AU because all of the most important stuff in the AU happens in the Library. 

If you want to be tagged in other parts let me know

It wasn’t common knowledge but Remus liked to read, a lot. He could spend hours with a book, be it fiction or nonfiction. He would read just about anything he could get his hands on. He, like most avid readers, had a favorite genre, obviously his was horror and surprisingly anything about psychology. All of his books were kept in pristine condition. He kept them away from anything that could damage his small collection. They looked well loved but were in almost perfect condition.

Remus much to his embarrassment needed reading glasses due to his eyes often over focusing. They were simple green and black frames that he kept with his books on his bookshelf next to his other prized possession, a small stuffed octopus with a mustache that had been the last gift Roman had given him before their falling out. He didn’t even let his pet opossum Mortuus, which just so happened to be latin for dead, go near the stuffed animal. 

One more thing that people didn’t know about the intrusive side was that he was a neat freak. His room was always clean, his weapon kept in place, and books organized alphabetically by the author. No one was allowed in Remus’ room and no one bothered to go in there besides Janus who was the sides best friend and the deceitful side wasn’t going to go blab about his best friends room.

All three things would come to light on January 26 of 2021. The sides were having a discussion about their greatest fears while eating lunch. Remus would accidentally reveal his secret with something he didn’t think anyone would know. It was such a simple statement but it would be the catalyst for the greatest thing to ever happen to him or Logan. It all started with a seemingly innocent question. 

“What about you Remus? Do you fear anything?” Patton asked, trying to include him in the conversation.

“I can think of a few off the top of my head. Why?” Remus asked.

Ever since Patton had started dating Janus he had done his best to include his boyfriends best friend in things which Remus thought was sweet and made him worthy of Janus simply because he was willing to deal with him to make the snake happy.

“What is the great Remus scared of?” his brother asked.

They had begun to mend their relationship after Putting Others First when Remus and Janus had been fighting and Remus had spent most of his time comforting Roman.

“Being abandoned. Being betrayed. Mortuus dying. Oh and I have abibliophobia,” Remus said.

“We're going to get back to you having abandonment and trust issues later but what does abibliophobia mean?” Virgil asked.

“If I am correct it is the fear of running out of reading material and I don’t think that is actually a real thing,” Logan said.

“Got it in one LoLo,” Remus chirped.

“You enjoy reading?” Roman asked.

“Enjoy? He is almost always reading,” Janus snorted.

“Hush before I don’t let you borrow my books anymore,” Remus teased.

“You wouldn’t,” Janus said.

“Wanna bet käärme?” Remus asked.

“I would not,” Janus said.

“What does that mean?” Patton asked.

“It’s finnish for snake,” Remus informed him.

“You are far smarter than we give you credit for,” Logan said.

“Thank you,” Remus said, flushing at the compliment.

The other sides look back and forth between the two nerds  trying to understand what just happened.

“May I see your collection?” Logan asked.

“Sure,” Remus said and got up.

Logan followed him down the hall leaving behind the confused sides.

“What the fuck just happened?” Virgil asked.

“Language kiddo,” Patton said at the same time that Janus said, “Language spiderling.”

“I think my brother is going to end up dating the main nerd,” Roman said.

“Oh my god,” Virgil said in horror.

“Our best friends are going to date,” Patton said.

“This isn’t going to end well for us,” Janus said.

“It’ll end wonderfully for them,” Patton said.

“Do you think Logan will let Remus into the library?” Roman asked.

“With how careful Remus is with his books I’d say it’s fairly likely,” Janus said.

They descended into silence as a squeal was heard and Virgil was handed a twenty.

[raiseyourcups]

Cabur

Chapter Eighteen

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: choking (and not the sexy kind), miscommunication (so much of it), cursing, Kuiil attempting help Mando and Aili Word Count: 4.4k Also on AO3

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

Summary: The whole gang is on the way to Nevarro, Mando is being weird after a quick talk with Kuiil and Aili is suspicious. Cara and Mando have an arm-wrestle and secrets are revealed about the child which leads to several people putting their foot in their mouth at different times.

They were loading up the blurrg when Kuiil spoke up. “That one is good for you,” he said without preamble as usual. That didn’t make his words any less jarring for Mando to hear as he barely stopped himself from accidentally pulling too hard on the blurrg’s reins. The last thing they needed was for him to piss off the blurrg again. 

“What?” was the only thing he settled on saying. 

“The smaller angry one, Aili. You two are good for each other, sooth each other’s anger from the past.” Kuiil wasn’t stupid, he had seen too many things during his servitude to the Empire. He didn’t need to know any details to see the similarities and he was sure the Shock Trooper had seen it too. 

“We’re not together,” Mando said stiffly. 

“That is not what I see when you two are around each other.” 

“She doesn’t-”

“I have spoken.” Kuiil said before Mando could even finish his sentence. 

Mando didn’t even know what else to say or do after that so he just kept leading the blurrg onto the ship. He was just glad that neither Aili or Cara were on the ship yet. Cara because she would just start laughing at the two of them again and Aili because he had no idea how she would react. As much as he wanted to know, a bigger part of him, the smarter part, didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to hear her own rejection out loud. 

They got everything packed onto the ship quickly after that, Mando trying to avoid Aili just a little bit. He almost succeeded but right after Cara and Kuiil went on board, Aili stopped him from heading up the gangway with a hand on his arm. “Is everything okay? Because if this is about the plan, we don’t have to--”

“We don’t have a choice,” Mando said shortly, slightly shrugging out of her grasp and walking onto the ship. Aili stared at him as she followed behind him with Little Green’s cradle floating between them. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion but she quickly schooled her face back into it’s usual passive expression once Cara was in sight. No need to have Cara start asking questions or making teasing remarks any time soon. 

She watched Mando from the corner of her eye as she made sure that Little Green’s cradle wasn’t going to be in the way of anyone. He went up to the cockpit and they were soon taking off from Arvala-7 without another word. Weird but whatever, Aili shrugged to herself and went over to where they kept their rations to get the kid something to eat to keep him from starting any trouble. 

Whatever Mando’s problem was would work itself out eventually or she could always kick his ass, whichever happened first. She was willing to bet on the latter option though. There was the small lurch that sent them into hyperspace and a minute later, Mando was sliding back down the ladder just as Aili was turning to walk back over to Little Green. 

Aili let out a quiet sound of surprise when she barely stopped herself from getting a face full of beskar. “I am getting you a bell once this is all over.”

“None of that, please, there are children present,” Cara called from where she was sitting. She had a smirk on her face as she watched the two of them almost crash into each other. She honestly couldn’t believe the two of them were still acting so oblivious to each other’s feelings, but she was starting to get the impression that it was mainly coming from one more than the other. 

“Who, you? I think it’s too late to give you the talk,” Aili bit back, side stepping around Mando so she could give Little Green his snack. Hopefully after that he’d be ready to go to sleep and then he really couldn’t start any trouble before they got to Nevarro. 

“Just a little late,” Cara said back, a large grin on her face now. Her gaze slid over to where Mando was still standing stiffly. “Hey Mando, let’s settle a bet.”

“What?” That finally snapped him back into reality and Cara pulled out a few credits, placing them on the crate she was sitting in front of. 

“Let’s find out who’s really stronger, me or you.” 

Mando paused to think it over before walking over and placing his own credits on the makeshift table. “I won’t go easy on you.”

“Trash talk doesn’t work on me.” 

Aili watched as Mando and Cara arm-wrestled out of pure boredom and a need to finally prove who was stronger. Further back Kuiil was feeding the blurrg and Little Green was curiously watching Mando and Cara as well from his cradle. He had just finished his snack and Aili was still trying to decide how much longer to let him stay up. She had given him the snack and moved back over to the other side of the ship where things were a little less crowded.  

“I got you, Mando.”

“Care to double the bet?”

Aili rolled her eyes at the two of them, mostly Mando because he had no problem making bets with Cara but he couldn’t have a simple conversation with her before they left Arvala-7. She had no idea what had happened during the time he was loading the blurrgs with Kuiil but if he wanted to act like a child, she’d let him. He had done that to her plenty of times. 

Her eyes went wide in surprise as soon as Cara started to choke on nothing. Like something invisible was choking her. She rushed forward when Cara brought her hands up to her throat in an attempt to do something. She didn't even notice Mando staring at Little Green as she tried to figure out what was wrong with Cara. 

“No, no, hey, stop!” Mando shouted, grabbing Little Green a little too roughly as the child let out a small squeak of surprise. “We’re friends. Cara is my friend!”

Cara took several harsh breaths. “That is not okay!” She angrily exclaimed, pointing at the kid with one finger while she tried to catch her breath. 

“He...has he had powers this whole time?” Aili questioned, eyes still wide in shock. She’d heard rumors of things like this, had seen a couple of girls taken out of the Program with no reason given. But guards always talked and they spoke of weird powers, something the Emperor was always looking out for. Other than that she had never asked for details. She wouldn’t have been given answers anyway no matter what her rank was within the Program. 

“Hmm, very curious,” Kuiil said, coming closer to look at the child in Mando’s grasp.

“Curious? It almost killed me!” Cara exclaimed, not even noticing when the kid let out another quiet sound of distress. 

“He’s a child and didn’t know what you two were doing,” Aili said harshly, moving around Cara to go over to Mando to hold her hands out for him to hand Little Green over to her. He hesitated for a second before doing so. She barely noticed the way he tensed up when their hands brushed against each other, she was too focused on making sure the kid was okay. 

“The story you told me of the mudhorn makes more sense now,” Kuiil said, still looking at the child with surprise in his eyes. 

“Mudhorn?” Aili asked, throwing Mando a look of displeasure when she saw the slight tears in Little Green’s eyes. He had obviously gotten scared by Mando shouting at him and Cara yelling at him. 

“What is it?” Mando asked, ignoring the look Aili was giving him for now. It wasn’t the most pressing matter at the moment to tell her about the mudhorn incident. 

“He,” Aili muttered under her breath, too low for anyone to really hear it. They had both given him enough baths and cleaned his small robe enough times that Mando should know that Little Green was a boy by now. Of course he was probably still trying to act like he wasn’t as attached to the kid as she was. 

Kuiil shook his head slightly, “What it is, I don’t know. But what it does, this I’ve heard rumors of.”

“What, when you worked for the Empire? And what about you Aili, you know about this too?” Cara questioned, her tone a little too accusatory for Aili’s taste. 

Aili threw a look of incredulity towards Cara, angry that the Shock Trooper would accuse her of something with no proof. “Okay let’s not go there just because you’re pissed off.”

“And you mean when I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude,” Kuiil added, his own voice taking on slight anger. 

Cara let out a scoff, gesturing towards them both, “Yet somehow, you both walk free.”

“I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands and the labor of three of your human lifetimes. Do not cast doubt upon that of what I am nor whom I shall serve,” Kuiil said, short and to the point but not without quiet anger lacing his every word. 

“I had to blow up a whole base to be able to “walk free”, you do not get to judge me or the things I did before then,” Aili stated, staring at Cara with a withering look in her eyes. So much for being friends if this was all it took to cause distrust. She turned around again, her back to Cara now as she muttered to herself, “I do that plenty to myself every day.”

No one noticed Mando making half an attempt to bring a hand up to Aili's shoulder before he stopped himself. With a subtle shake of his helmet, he brought his hand back down to his side, clenching both hands into fists to stop himself from trying again. 

IG-11 had walked over to them at the sound of raised voices but stood down a little when he saw Aili was comforting the child already. Mando let out a deep sigh knowing that both Cara and Aili were going to be pissed off for hours now. Not exactly two people he wanted angry on his ship, worse that they were angry with each other. 

He turned to Kuiil and made sure to keep his voice even as he spoke, “Tell you what, I could really use your craftwork right now. Any way you can pad this container better so the child can sleep better?” 

He knew that even though Aili had agreed to switch out when they used the cot, she spent most of her nights letting the kid sleep on the cot. He had come down from the cockpit more than once and seen her curled up on the floor in front of the cot with nothing but a blanket and one of her bags as a pillow under her head. So if Kuiil could make the kid’s cradle more comfortable, maybe then she’d actually use the cot for once. He knew it wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep but it was better than the ship floor. 

“I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one’s hands.”

"Thank you. We need to go over the plan again,” Mando directed the last part to Aili and Cara who were still not looking at each other. Cara wasted no time in heading for the ladder, still rubbing at her neck before she went up to the cockpit without another word. 

"You two go ahead,” Aili said shortly, keeping all of her focus on Little Green for the moment, rocking him from side to side without thinking about it. 

"This involves all of us,” Mando replied, barely holding back another sigh. He knew she was upset but that didn’t mean she could get out of making sure the plan was fool proof. 

"Yeah well unless you think Little Green will be able to contribute somehow, someone's gonna have to get him to calm down,” Aili shot back, looking up at Mando and that was when Mando finally noticed the small amount of tears in big brown eyes. He let out another sigh before nodding. 

“Okay, but once he’s asleep, come up to the cockpit.” 

“Is that an order?”

Mando winced behind his helmet knowing that he had chosen the wrong thing to say if the blunt way Aili spoke said anything. He tried to fix it quickly, “A request.”

“Fine.” Some of the tension in Aili’s shoulders faded away but he could tell she was still angry. Probably would be until they reached Nevarro and then all her anger could be redirected towards the Imps that were in the city. Mando just hoped they could all make it to the planet in one piece. He shook his head once more before heading up to the cockpit, hoping that maybe he could talk to Cara before Aili rejoined them, let her know how badly she screwed up without telling her too much of what Aili had told him. 

Aili watched from the corner of her eyes as Mando finally went up the ladder before she closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Stupid,” she whispered to herself before biting her tongue to distract herself and to push away the dumb tears that had come to her eyes. Mando had been nice enough to not mention them, or just smart enough for once. Either way she was grateful. 

She watched as Kuiil started to work on a new cradle for Little Green, this one round rather than a rectangle. She was perfectly fine with staying in the cargo hold while Cara and Mando were up in the cockpit trying to come up with some semblance of a plan if everything went sideways. Which it probably would like most of the things that Mando was involved in. 

Aili was just trying to get the kid to go to sleep before rejoining them. She knew that was why they had brought Kuiil and IG-11 along but she couldn’t help herself. It had become a habit at this point and she wasn’t even sure if Little Green would let anyone else put him to sleep. 

Kids got weirdly attached like that considering he would rarely let Mando put him down to sleep if Aili was there. It had gotten worse after the job on Tatooine which is something Mando had mentioned once and Aili couldn’t disagree with him for once. Waking up with a concussion and not knowing where Little Green was had sent her back to the base for a moment which was not a place or time she liked to think back on. 

But she was also okay with any time spent avoiding Cara for a little while, the other woman’s comments had hit a little too close to home for her. The accusations had been worse, the implication that she was in any way still working for the Empire. She had thought she had made it obvious what she thought of Imps. 

So to hear the comments come from someone who she had just been joking around with, someone who she had thought was her friend? Had Cara said something to Mando and that was why he was acting so weird now? She let out an annoyed sigh and tried to shake the thoughts away. She didn’t care what either of them thought of her, she knew where she stood and that was all that mattered. 

“You and the Mandalorian are good together,” Kuiil stated when he paused for a break, hoping Aili would see more reason than the Mandalorian did. 

“Excuse me?” Aili was pretty sure she was hearing things but she didn’t stop her rocking motion aside from a slight wobble. 

“I can tell, I saw things during the Empire’s rule. Children, girls not even old enough to walk or talk yet, taken from their parents and never seen again.”

“I--” Aili hadn’t even thought that there could have been girls taken from the workers on gene farms. But it made sense, they were desperate to pay off debts and for not the first time, she wondered about her own parents. She pushed the thought away quickly, it didn’t matter to her anymore, she knew they weren’t workers on some farm. Her file had had that much information at the very least even if it didn’t have the right birth year. 

“It’s not hard to spot the hard edges left by the Empire. Both of you have them for different reasons but they are very much the same,” Kuiil continued, not noticing the way Aili was almost lost in thought. 

“Yes but-”

“You both round out each other’s edges. I have spoken.” Kuill said before turning back to his work before Aili could even say anything. She stared at the Ugnaught in stunned silence before a quiet coo brought her attention down to Little Green. He blinked his own big brown eyes at her like he understood and agreed with Kuiil.

“Not you too, you little womp rat,” Aili whispered to him. Little Green had the nerve to smile at her before reaching up to reach for a loose curl of hair. Aili let out a deep sigh, adjusting her grip on the kid so his head was resting against her chest and he could wrap his little hand around her hair. 

She had no idea why he always had to do that but it was cute regardless of the times he accidentally tugged too hard. To her it was just like when Shaeli and Jaesa were younger and couldn't sleep. If Mando only knew how many times she had slept in the Covert that first year, one or both of the girls piled on top of her so they could sleep soundly to the sound of her heart beat. 

It took another couple of minutes before Little Green fell asleep deeply enough for Aili to put him down in the cot, tucking a blanket around him. A couple minutes too long for her to be alone with her thoughts and the comments Kuiil had made. She knew how Mando felt about her, probably felt about her, she corrected herself. It wasn’t like they had sat down afterwards and discussed their feelings but she was sure she had picked up on it anyway. The helmet could only hide his expressions but not his actions or body language. 

She just didn’t know how she actually felt about him. It wasn’t like she had any kind of previous relationship experience to fall back on, none of her experience had come from a place of emotion of any kind. She knew she loved the girls but that was obviously different, they saw her as their older sister or in Shaeli and Jaesa’s case as their mother. But romantically? She didn’t know what that would feel like even if it was right in front of her. 

With a deep sigh, she glanced at Little Green once more before shutting the hatch and giving Kuiil one last nod, she headed up to the cockpit to help with planning. Anything to keep another child from the Empire’s grasp.

“So we’re heading to Nevarro?” She walked in as soon as Cara asked Mando. 

“Have you ever been?” 

Cara shook her head, “No, we lost a lot of forces there.”

“You’re not missing much,” Aili muttered as she took her usual seat. “Rocks and lava, that’s about it.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about the shit I said down there.” To her credit, Cara actually did seem sorry about what she had said to Aili. It made some of the anger Aili was still holding fade away, but not much. She knew better than most that things said in anger were things you thought while not angry as well. 

“It’s fine,” Aili said with a small shrug before trying to deflect the conversation. “You were saying about during the war?”

“Um, yeah, the city’s dug in pretty deep which I’m sure you both know already. So no cover when you drop in. It stayed in Empire control until the war was over.” Cara explained while continuing to clean the blaster rifle she had chosen from the weapons locker earlier. Aili hadn’t even noticed her taking it up the ladder with her but then again, she had her back to the woman at the moment. 

“The warlord we’re taking out was an Imperial officer.”

“What station?” Cara asked. She didn’t know very much about how the Empire worked but she was willing to bet that between her and Aili they could figure it out. 

“Hard to tell. No insignia anymore. I took out the safehouse when I snatched the kid. More Imps have reinforced since.”

Cara and Aili shared a quick glance before Cara spoke again, “There’s something more going on.”

“I agree, something doesn’t feel right. Imperial officers didn’t do their own dirty work during the war, why would they now? What was this guy’s name again?” Aili hadn’t known officers that were high ranking that would also do their own work. Even the Emperor had other people to do his bidding, it was the whole reason the Program existed. And she had even heard about some group called Inquisitors but they had a whole different hierarchy and she had never met one before. 

“I only knew him as the Client.”

“Hmm, definitely something else going on,” Aili said, brow furrowed in thought now. 

“Maybe. We’ll find out more when we land.” The cockpit doors opened before Mando could continue and IG-11 stepped in, stopping right beside Aili and Cara meaning he was right behind Mando. Aili cringed knowing Mando wouldn’t like that at all. 

“I have prepared second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?” 

Mando slowly turned to look at the droid and Aili could just about see the anger coming off of him before he turned back around. “I’m not hungry.”

IG-11 paused for half a second before backing out of the cockpit. 

“Under no circumstances does that thing leave the ship,” Mando said stiffly once the cockpit doors were closed again.

“You’ve got a real thing for droids, don’t you?” Cara laughed, finally done checking over and cleaning the rifle. 

“I got a real thing for that droid.”

“Mando, you shot at pit droids not too long ago.” Aili raised an eyebrow that Mando couldn’t see with his back to her but she hoped he could hear the tone in her voice. 

“Yeah, I’m not going near that one but the Ugnaught said he rewired this one,” Cara said even as she furrowed her brow at the thought of Mando shooting at a pit droid. Those were the most harmless of droids that she had ever seen.  They literally only had one job and that was to help fix ships. If there was one thing the Razor Crest needed, it was pit droids to fix half the things wrong with it. 

“That droid was designed to kill things, I don’t care how much wiring he replaced. It goes against its nature.”

Aili knew it was stupid but Mando’s choice of words didn’t sit right with her. Not because she cared about the droid in any way. She hadn’t been around the droid long enough to care about it anymore than she cared about the last blaster she bought. But with Cara’s earlier comments still running through her head, Mando’s comment despite not being about her added to her earlier feelings. 

“It shouldn’t be a long job anyway. We take out the head Imp, the rest will run like rats,” Cara grinned wide before getting up to get that meal that IG-11 had made. No point in going into a fight on an empty stomach. 

Mando and Aili sat in silence, nothing but the stars of hyperspace passing by them for a long moment. “You were only talking about the droid, right?” 

“What?” Mando asked, turning around to look at Aili. Behind his helmet, he was giving her a confused look that she couldn’t see. 

“I-nevermind,” she said quickly before pushing herself out of her chair. “I’m going to head down for some food, you sure you don’t want any?”

“Not if the droid made it.”

“Of course, can’t trust food made by a killing machine,” Aili said before walking out of the cockpit before Mando could reply to her. He sat there in silent confusion wondering what he had said now that had made her mad. He went through everything he had said about the droid. The only thing he had said was that it was designed to kill things and no rewiring would change its nature.

“Dank farrik,” he hissed out to himself. Every time he thinks he can’t put his foot in his mouth again, he does. He could understand how she could misinterpret his words especially since he knew how she was raised pretty much since birth. Probably thought that made her no better than a hunter droid sometimes and now she had both Cara and him make comments that made it seem like they thought that of her. 

He checked the solar clock on the console and wondered if he had time to fix his latest screw up before they reached Nevarro. He let out another curse when he saw that they had barely any time before they would drop out of hyperspace, maybe a few solar hours. He was about to get up to go find her when there was a knock at the cockpit door but no one came in. With a confused tilt of his helmet, he went to the door to find a small plate of food sitting on the ground.

There was a small bit of flimsiplast laying on top of it with a note written on it that simply said “Not made by a droid, eat it” in handwriting that Mando didn’t recognize. But only one person on board the Crest would even bother with the note let alone one demanding he eat it. He bent down to pick up the food, now even more confused than before but he would admit to himself that he was hungry and he doubted Aili would lie about the droid not touching this food. With one last look towards the ladder that led to the cargo hold he retreated back into the cockpit and after making sure the door was locked, he ate the food she had left for him. 

[loveyourownsmiilee]

People are so rude ??? You aren’t delusional at all and I have the same opinion as you. The writers literally did an uno reverse card for no damn reason. Taylor is a good character on her own and so is Buck on his own. Sure they’re both hot and charismatic but that’s literally it??? This feels like emotional whiplash lmao because they hooked up and then she later friend zones him and now she acts like he’s the one??? Or she wants to date him at least?? When she JUST friend zoned him and walked away after that? I’m so tired lmao. Why do the writers feel the need to pair Buck up when they know damn well he should not be in a relationship right now. I want him to end up with Eddie but I’m smart enough to know that it would be rushing even if they paired him with Eddie rn. Buck needs time to be single and process his feelings I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve a relationship I’m just saying the dude just saw his bestie get shot in front of him and then he’s kissing Taylor. He needs a minute before he jumps into anything, hookups or relationships. I’m not his parent and I’m not his therapist obviously but I feel like anyone who has been watching the same Buck that I have would agree. It’s not even about Buck and Eddie and the disappointment hopefully I don’t just feel about that. It’s the fact that Taylor and Buck was awkward and not right given everything else in the episode. And I have no problems with Taylor she’s a nicely fleshed out side character but why do the writers feel like she can only develop if she’s with Buck when she’s perfectly fine on her own. She has never shown interest in wanting anything more with him at least to my knowledge?? But now she’s all 🥰🥰🥰 hi Buck. Obviously feelings can change but??? In one or two episodes?? Mmmm yeah that’s just bad writing. Or maybe I’m a clown and I’ll eat my words because this is the point- maybe the writers wrote this awkward kiss in the episode and whatever else that was between them lmao to show that this is rushed and they don’t even need to be together. I’m hoping that’s what it is because all of THAT was... not it lmao. I hope the writers are smarter than we’re giving them credit because I just... don’t understand lmao. They steal numerous plot lines for s4 from fics that FANS have made and then slap the crap out of us with Taylor kissing Buck. I swear this better be the slowest slow burn for Buck and Eddie known to tv history because of this is just them half assing and shoving another hetero ship in our face because this is a Fox show I’m gonna chew glass

Well thank you so much from the bottom of my heart, for this long sweet message. It truly made me smile❤️ I know we (Buddies) aren't delusional. How can we be when they have spent 3 whole seasons developing this relationship and making it known that they are seen as a whole ass family unit?? I'm gonna add more bc its too long.

Like don't get me wrong, I loved what they did with Taylor this season and I was so here for them being friends you know? Buck needs more friends outside of the 118 and I was hoping that they can just be that for each other. But nope, they did pull an uno reverse card on us didn't they nonnie? And I hate that with everything in me. I really was going back and forth on whether or not they would have them get together in this episode of all episodes and I am actually pissed at the fact that they did. Yes, Buck just witnessed his partner/best friend/closest confidant get shot in front of him. He had his blood spluttered all over his face and then spent days depressed over it. Then what, she's there and its convenient and they're freaking making out? And hes forgotten that his best friend hasn't even woken up yet? Wtf is this?? I was just so confused honestly because truly wtf?? The storyline made no sense to me. I truly believe that they want Buck in a relationship, one that is "successful" so he has some experience on how to be in one. He hasn't had one thus far so he needs this experience so that when the time comes, he is ready for Eddie I guess? I truly don't fucking know wtf is going on with that whole thing. I do believe that Buck and Eddie both need to recover from their shared traumatic experience and I don't think it's the best idea to have him jump into a relationship when he still has that recovery in front of him. Who knows tho, maybe the writers are gonna skip over their recovery and make it seem like everyone is living happily. It truly was awkward and sorta rushed too because they've been in like 4 episodes together and had this whole back and forth situation. They literally could have used any of those moments to have them get together but no they chose this episode where Buck is truly in this weird limbo where he's trying to move on but doesn't know what's going to happen to his best friend. I truly wished they kept her strong independent and a single friend to Buck. Like from what we've seen from her, it makes no sense to have her all of a sudden do a complete 180 and wanna be with Buck. Like ma'am I cant imagine you being in an actual relationship with a man whom you don't pay attention too and think of his little quirks as weird/annoying or whatever she did. But I am gonna hold onto the fact that both Buck/Taylor & Eddie/A*a were all rushed with no legitimate development and that makes me believe none of them are truly endgame. Compare them to Buck & Eddie's years worth of development? Yeah not a comparison at all. I still believe we're gonna get some kind of confession or them getting canon in s5 and I will hold onto that bc i too refuse to have them shove this hetero bland relationships down our throats. Sorry this was so long but I too had a lot of thoughts!! Feel free to chat if you ever have other things you want to rant about.

[miracul0us-multishipper]

You (Part 2)

Now you see me, now you don’t!

Part 1 | AO3

Felix Graham De Vanily was, in his own humble opinion, special. 

He was smart.

He was composed.

He knew exactly what to say and when, and he could make people see exactly what he wanted them to see.

He wasn’t his cousin, after all, almost identical looks aside. Adrien never knew when to speak up, or when it was better to stay quiet. Never knew how to hide his thoughts and keep his - utterly unrealistic, when it came to his father - hopes in check. And he might be smarter than Felix gave him credit for, but all that intelligence left him as soon as his friends were concerned.

That was what all his flaws boiled down to, really.

Adrien made the fatal, unforgiving mistake of caring too much. Always had.

(It was what Felix liked about him, deep down. Adrien was genuine, in everything he felt. Felix envied him for the ease with which he made friends.)

But.

Felix wasn’t like Adrien at all. He was too smart to care for people - his mother aside - any more than he had to. Mundane distractions. Friends, crushes - all things that would only deter him from his path in life: high above the crowd, always the center of attention, yet unreachable. Playing everyone, but gone before anybody noticed.

It was a glorious but lonely road. No, scratch that. It was a lonely but glorious road. Much better.

He didn’t need anything or anyone.

He was the sole and solemn genius of the family.

He was a magician, who didn’t need any fancy jewelry to work miracles - just the right distraction and disguise.

He was-

“Ow!”

Groaning Felix looked at the little bite marks on his finger. 

“Were you even listening?! Or did you just wait for an opportunity to stab me in the back?”

The black and white bundle of fur and betrayal on his lap meowed and swiped at his hand, now out of reach.

 “I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”, he grumbled and shoved the traitor off of his legs, but couldn’t help but smile when he smugly licked his nose - as if to say: I'd do it again. “I raised you too well. Now, where was I?”

He sighed.

“Ah, yes. I don’t care for anyone - please stop scratching that ear, honey, it’s not healed yet - because I'm just too smart for that. So it’s utterly impossible that I, Felix Graham de Vanily, am in love with Dupain-Cheng. Got it?”

His cat, the little bastard, answered by knocking his pencil box over and started to chew on a pen. Felix narrowed his eyes.

“Oh? You dare doubt my word?”

With quick fingers he stole his cat's spoils and placed it out of his reach.

“Quite bold for a creature without opposable thumbs, hm?”

Insulted, the poor, thumbless pet retreated to his laptop and laid down on the keyboard - causing the screensaver to give way to the last opened tab. Which was Marinette's Instagram page.

“Wah!”

Hurried to hide the proof of his interest - as if she might somehow appear in his room if he looked at her picture for too long - he shooed his pet away and closed the tab. Said pet meowed smugly and, upset about being chased away from two spots already, sat down on his pillow. Great.

“You did that on purpose!”, he accused his cat. “But that tab proves nothing. It was merely a passing interest in her admittedly wearable work. It has nothing to do with any confessions - faked confessions, or that she can apparently recognize me in disguise, or the very neutral fact that she is cute, by some people's - not my own! - standards.”

His cat blinked. And sneezed onto his pillow.

“Bless you. Now move, or I’ll use you instead of a bunny for that hat trick I’m working on.”

Sighing, Felix let himself fall backwards onto his bed, grabbing the fleeing cat and burying his face in the fluffy fur.

“Oh, to be a cat!”, he wailed into his involuntary comfort pillow. “With no troubles except how to best annoy his owner.”

 The poor animal hissed and escaped his grasp, saving himself from the bitter fate of a comfort pillow.

 “Run, you uncaring monster.”, Felix sighed, “Leave me to my worries. Which don’t include Marinette at all, by the way.”

He sat up and watched as the little traitor turned to sulk on his dresser.

“Stop looking at me like that. Even if I had a short bout of interest - possibly even infatuation! It’s already all but cured.”

He nodded to himself, ignoring that the disinterested cat had begun cleaning his leg instead of listening.

“School's closed, after all!”, he hummed, scrolling through the news on his phone. “And social contacts are to be reduced to the bare minimum. So I’m not going to see her again before this passing interest has... well, passed.”

As if in response to his words, his laptop started to ring and the monitor lit up with the picture of blue, blue eyes and a smile that could melt the stars off of the sky. Not that he paid attention to such things.

“Oh no, no, no!”, he panted as he fell out of his bed and stumbled towards the computer. “Incoming Skype call?! Oh, come on!”

The ringtone repeated itself and Felix jumped.

“What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?”

Panicking, he looked at his pet.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?!”

The addressed party blinked. And went back to licking his nuts.

“Argh! I am surrounded by incompetence!”

Taking a deep breath, Felix straightened his vest and cravat - just because he was staying at home for the foreseeable future didn’t mean that he would dress any less professionally.

“Who needs your advice anyway. I can do this.”

He straightened his back and sat down on the chair in front of his desk.

“I am Felix Graham de Vanily, the best actor in all of France and the United Kingdom, not in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I can totally answer a Skype call.”

Before he could think again, he pressed the green button.

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng!”, he greeted overly enthusiastic. “We meet again.”

“If you can call it that.”, Marinette laughed with the voice of a goddamn angel. She was wearing a white, polka-dotted pajama top, was illuminated by early-noon sunlight falling through some sort of window in the ceiling, and her hair – was – down.

If this was some sort of cosmic test, it wasn’t fair.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your virtual company?”, he said quickly, trying not to think too much about how her hair looked even softer than the fur of a certain cat. Then, for good measure, he added: “Miss me already?”

Marinette disappeared  for a moment, before returning with a sizable stack of papers.

“As much as I could do without my favorite pain in the neck, we have a school assignment to do. You know, since school is closed?”

She leaned in and he held his breath.

“Did you even notice? I haven’t seen you last Friday.”

What was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I noticed alright! It kept me from embarrassing myself by avoiding you, because my brain got all mushy ever since you fake-confessed to me pretending to be my cousin?

Ha! Fat chance.

“Aw, worried for me?”, he improvised, as usual, by being sarcastic. “Let me soothe your concern for your favorite pain in the neck: I merely got tired of cosplaying Adrien. I'm a very busy man, you see?”

She rolled her eyes and somehow managed to make it look cute.

“Of course you are. Well, hopefully not too busy for a presentation on marine biology, due next week.”

He blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, the one Adrien and I are supposed to do?”

Felix Had Questions. For example:

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hack into Adriens E-mail account. I saw you present homework that you couldn’t have known about if Madame Mendeleiev hadn’t emailed you, as Adrien.”

She raised an eyebrow, in a way that could almost be described as playful.

“Plus, you seem the type to do that.”

He scoffed and crossed his arms, as if it would hide his racing heartbeat.

“First of all: No, I am not breaking into my cousins account. I may like to prank him - or rather everyone, really - but that goes a little far. Secondly, that Lila girl was only too eager to do homework with Adrien-Me, so I could keep up with every assignment once I could get her hands off of me.”

“I thought a magician never revealed his tricks?”

True. But he had wanted to see if she would get jealous. Which she didn’t. Which was expected and totally fine by him. He didn’t care anyways.

Lucky for him, Marinette wanted to tease him more than an answer.

“Well, I hope your work ethic is better when it comes to presentations. I'll send you the materials!”

A click later, his laptop alerted him of One New Email, containing no less than twenty-two pages of material. He raised his eyebrows.

“Not to crush your little illusion of me as a hard-working student, but that looks like awfully tedious work. What makes you think I would voluntarily do homework meant for Prince Charming?”

The sassy little smirk she'd shown him during their battles of wit last week returned.

“You mean, aside from the fact that, once school is open again and Adrien is back, your little trick with pretending to be him will be revealed? And that I’m your best chance not to be chased out of town by a very angry Chloé Bourgeois? Not to start with Alya, Rose and Juleka, who still haven’t forgiven you for that stunt you pulled the last time you were here.”

Sound argument, he had to give her that.

“Pah!”, he said, just for the sake of irritating her. “So what? It’s not like it was my idea to move to Paris anyway!”

That was at least partially true. His mother had insisted to come back to France, mostly because she wanted to keep an eye on Gabriel. But he hadn’t been against it either.

It wasn’t like he had friends in London anyway, and in Paris it at least didn’t get boring, with all these butterflies and superheroes. Plus, he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he had missed Adrien. That boy could use a little family - once Felix was done pretending to be him. 

Marinette hummed and tapped her chin impatiently.

“Well, then see it as the prize you promised me after our little insult-match at the Trocadero.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”, he held up his hands. “I already settled that score, didn’t I? You confessed to me, remember?”

“I practiced confessing to Adrien with you, you mean.”, she reminded him with a raised eyebrow – Ouch, by the way – before leaning back in her pink chair. “And that was because you talked me into it. I never told you what I wanted, did I?”

Well, fuck. Not that the prospect of working with Marinette was that unpleasant, but in his current state of emotional confusion, it would only be detrimental. He needed an out, an excuse!

“Why would you want to work with me anyways? I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to do something with Prince Adrien of Dreamland. Why settle for the pain in the neck?”

Marinette sighed.

“Adrien is still recovering from his flu, and given the current, ah, global situation, I thought it would be better to put his health first. Besides, you're my favorite pain in the neck.”

“I'm flattered, darling”, he said, trying not to sound like it was as true as it was, “but-“

“Oh my gosh!”, Marinette interrupted him with a shout, and suddenly her eyes dominated the entire screen, as if she were mere millimeters away from her own computer. “Felix! What is that?!”

“Huh?”, he made, eloquent as usual. He turned around, just in time to see his traitorous cat jump from the dresser right onto his lap. Apparently, now that Felix had someone else to talk to, the little bastard felt neglected. 

“You mean him?”, he asked, turning back to the screen with the cat in his lap. An inhuman squeal came from the other side of the line and Marinette sacked back into her chair, which spun around its axis, like, three times in a single second.

“Felix Graham de Vanily!”, she said with all but glowing eyes. “Show – me – the cat!”

Since her voice made absolutely clear that it had been an order and Felix had always had a strong survival instinct, he obediently held up the little monster. Who let out a plaintive little “Mow”, but otherwise submitted to his fate.

“Oh my gosh!”, Marinette repeated, “He's adorable!”

“You think?”, Felix said dumbly, at a loss for how to react to this sudden change in situation.

“I do! I do! What's his name?”

“Uh...”, Felix thought, debating whether a lie would save his reputation. “Uhm...”

“Don’t tell me you named him Felix Junior!” She turned towards the cat in false exasperation. “Did he name you Felix Junior?!”

The cat that was most certainly not named Felix Junior meowed in his feline confusion.

“No, of course not!”, Felix snapped back, sinking into the chair as if it might have mercy and swallow him.

“Then what's his name? What, for God’s sake, is this pretty little kitty called?!”

What had his life turned into?

“'dini.”, he mumbled, hiding his face behind the cat.

“What? Speak louder!”, Marinette demanded, and so he accepted his fate.

“Houdini!”, he groaned in embarrassment. “I named him Houdini, alright? I was eleven!”

For a moment, the line went quiet. Then, inevitably, Marinette burst out in laughter.

“For real? I can’t believe it!”

Sulking, Felix turned away from the screen, but immediately Marinette stopped.

“No, no, no! Bring Houdini back! I love his name, okay? Give him back!”

“You're not telling anybody of him, got it?”, he hissed, cheeks as red as Ladybug's suit. Marinette snickered. 

“Of course, I promise. Houdini will be our little secret, alright? Now bring him back!”

Satisfied, Felix turned the chair back towards the laptop and placed Houdini on the desk. The curious thing didn’t hesitate to lounge onto his keyboard and examined the camera, much to Marinette’s delight.

“Oh lord, he's so cute!”

Felix sighed and leaned back.

“Believe me, he knows.”

“He looks just like you!”

At that, Felix spluttered and jumped up again.

“W-w-what?!”

Internally already setting up the equation: “Marinette thinks Houdini is cute, and Marinette thinks Houdini looks like Felix, then Marinette thinks Felix is cute?” he was about two seconds from fainting.

“He's got a little tie, see?”, Marinette giggled on, ignorant of the thought-spiral she'd sent him into. “Just like you!”

Oh. She meant the patterns of his fur, which admittedly looked a little like he was wearing a tie. Of course.

“Who's the most adorable thing in Paris? You are!”, Marinette continued with her shameless adoration of that undeserving little brat, who currently Mow-ed happily at the screen. Pah!

“Just so you know, he bites people for fun.”, Felix badmouthed his own pet, absolutely not because he was jealous. “You can’t trust him. He'll act sweet, but as soon as you're not looking he's got your fingers between his sharp little fangs!”

“Eh, I can handle it.”, Marinette shrugged and immediately went back to admiring Houdini. “You're a good kitty, aren’t you? The best, the best! Yes, you are!”

“No, he's not!”, Felix insisted through clenched teeth. “He's moody and arrogant! Nobody likes him, that's why I took him in! He thinks it’s fun to hurt people, he holds grudges forever and he's incredibly annoying when he's bored!”

Wait, was he still talking about the cat?

“You just like him because he looks all cute and innocent, but if you knew him, you'd never even want to be in the same room as him.”

Marinette had gone quiet on the other side, and Houdini narrowed his eyes at him in betrayal. Then she shrugged.

“If you don’t want him anymore, I'll take him in.”

“What?!”

She would have to pry the little shit out of his cold, dead hands!

“Did you not listen to a word I said?” he asked, trying not to let on that he didn’t actually dislike Houdini.

Marinette smiled.

“Sure. But I still think he's a good kitty.”

“But why?”

She hummed, pushing her stack of papers aside so she could put her elbows on the desk. Resting her chin on her hand, she looked up in him.

“Most cats are. You just got to give them a chance to come out of their shell.”

“But... But he's mean!”

“Maybe he's just lonely. Maybe he needs some friends, and then he'll learn to be nicer. I can wait.”

He was not blushing!

“Why would you want to? There's lots of better cats, you could just pick one of them right away.”

“Yeah, well, I want Houdini. All cats deserve a chance. Even the meaner ones.”

She smiled down at the black and white loaf that purred on his keyboard.

“In my experience, peop- cats only show their best sides if you give them a chance to open up. If you're too quick to brush them aside as hopeless, or mean, you might miss out on the most wonderful personalities underneath. And I think Houdini is one of those.”

And then, because the universe just wanted to see him fall, she winked at him. Jesus Christ!

“Anyway, I'll give you some time to read through the material I sent you. Message me once you’re done, we've got a lot of work ahead. Bye!”

Before he could realize what she had said, the window blanked and closed on him. Disappointed that his fan had vanished, Houdini meowed and returned once again to Felix' lap.

“Bye.”, Felix stammered belatedly. What had just... How could she go around just saying things like that? And then hang up?!

“Ugh, Houdini!”, he lamented. “Look what I have become!”

Reduced to a beetred, stammering, weird-cat-metaphor-using fool!

The cat gave a smug “Mrow” and headbutted him in the chin, but Felix didn’t have it in him to complain.

“Fine,” he sighed in defeat, “you win. So what if I like her?”

Houdini purred.

“You do too, don’t you? Bet you'd bite her anyway.”

He purred on, unperturbed.

“Knew it.”

He sighed once again.

“She's right, though. You are a good kitty. Deep down.”

Houdini meowed and licked his finger, just where he'd bitten him earlier.

“Well, now you're just sucking up to me! Two-faced little demon. Mwah!”

He pressed a small kiss to the top of his furry head, then rolled the chair closer to the desk and opened his emails.

“Alright, then.”, he tried to motivate himself, “let's show Marinette what a good kitty- what a good person we are and do our homework.”

At that, Houdini promptly stood up and jumped onto the bed, leaving him alone with twenty-two pages of reading material.

“Bastard.”

- - -

Bonus:

Ladybug, crashing through Felix' window: Felix Graham de Vanily!

Felix: Ladybug?!

Ladybug: I have it on good authority that you own a good kitty! It is crucial for the safety of Paris that I pet him right this instant!

Felix, remembering her right hook: ... sure?

[ellana-ravenwood]

In a world where Bruce Wayne raised Damian since birth - Ficlets part 2/3

  And here we are. So. Yeah. I got extremely carried away again so I guess I’m cutting this “last part” in two ^^'. The last part (so the third one) is therefor already written and will be posted soon after a few other stories I got to update ! Thanks for reading, hope you’ll like this and boom : 

PART 1

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

TW : mentions of blood in the “The day he learned what death meant” part ! Also, loss of a close family member... + drowning in “The Pond incident”.

__________________________________________________

                                                  ******

"No more Robins.”

Bruce couldn’t bring himself to explain to Damian what happened to Jason.

Of course, he knew that one day, he would have to. And that the sooner the better. Especially since the boy was asking more and more when his brother would come back.

Bruce was pretty sure his boy thought that Jason went to form his own “Teen Titans”, like Dick did years ago. 

Damian kept asking to video conference Jason, when he’d call, why didn't he kiss him goodbye, or when he’d come  back to have dinner with them…Yes. Yes the boy most likely thought his older brother did what his oldest brother did. 

Went away for a little while, definitely not forever.

Bruce wondered how long he would be able to wisthand his son’s questions. 

Every time the little one would ask « When is Zayson calling/coming back ? », Bruce felt his heart shrivel more and more, and flashes of Jason’s body in his arms kept coming back and-

He couldn’t. Bruce couldn’t. How the hell could he say anything ? 

How could he explain to his baby son that his beloved brother would never come home again ? Would never call ?And that everything was his own father’s fault…He couldn’t break his son’s heart like that. He couldn’t bear to..

But he would have to. One day or another. 

“The sooner the better”, Dick said. And Bruce knew he was right. But it was too hard. 

And then suddenly, as if summoned by his thought, there he was. 

Little Damian.

Except this was clearly not the right time to tell him what truly happened to Jason, as the boy seemed mildly annoyed and was…Wearing his coat and shoes ? Where was he going ? And who was that other kid with him ?

The newcomer seemed to be around twelve, and was smiling widely, clearly excited to be here. Before he could speak though :

“Daddy, he knows you’re Batman.”

Damian said, very matter of factly, as if it wasn’t really a surprise. And maybe to a six years old growing up knowing his dad was Batman, it wasn’t ? 

Although in this case, it was more the fact that Damian’s mind was monopolized by where Jason went, than him not being surprised someone guessed who Batman was. In other circumstances, and if he was older than barely six, maybe he would’ve been very impressed...Later on in his life, Tim would genuinely impress him many times with his intellect. 

Damian never told anyone, because since he was very young, Bruce, Alfred, Dick and Jason told him not to. Because it was a secret. And it became natural for him, to not talk about this to anyone. He was basically conditioned to never even mention the Dark Knight. 

“Batman” was part of the boy’s life since birth, to him, he was nothing special except for the fact it was his beloved dad. He was always more of a “Robin” fan anyway, as he regarded both his brothers in awe...

Which made him think, where was Jason ?! 

The thought of him brought Damian back to his initial idea, which was to go to Jason’s school (wherever that was) and look for him. As he thought about it, he realized there was a big flaw in his plan for sure. Where was his brother’s school ? And also, it was Winter’s vacation ? Why would he be there ? 

Then...Where was he ? 

Now, Damian was even more annoyed at this dude who knocked on their door. Not only did he wrecked his plans to go to Jason’s school (before he could truly think about it), but now he was monopolizing his dad’s attention so Damian, who was taught basic politeness by Alfred, couldn’t even cut him off to ask where Jason was ! 

This had slowly become Damian’s obsession, to know where his brother was. He’s never been so focus on only one thing in his entire short life. 

“...and that’s how I found out you were most definitely him, The Batman !”

Damian didn’t really listen to what “Tim” said. He didn’t care that much how he found out that his dad was Batman, all he wanted was...Oh, but wait a minute. 

Tim discovered who Batman really was. 

All on his own. While everyone in Gotham seemed oblivious to that fact. This must mean...

“Hey ! You must know where Jason went ?” 

Damian was maybe young, but he was smarter than a lot of adults would give children credits for. He often easily put two and two together anyway (thanks to the many puzzles his father turned into games and made him solve, along with his brothers), and if that Tim could find out who Batman really was when everyone else was in the dark (even Superman, and he met both Batman AND Bruce Wayne rather often), he could probably find Jace ! 

Tim turned to Damian, and looked at him with a sorry look in his eyes and...Why ? But the boy never had time to ask that question as his father said : 

“Damian, go to your room please. Timothy and I have to talk.”

“But I want to-”

“No buts. I’ll come by your room when I’m done. Please, do as I say, Damian.” 

There was something in his father’s tone, that made Damian sort-of forget about asking where Jason was. Something grave, as if the man he admired the most on this Earth would suddenly shatter. 

There was something in his father’s tone that made him not want to argue, and to just listen. Something that just sounded quiet and heavy. And so without trying to argue further, Damian went to his room, and waited. 

Waited for what seemed hours, for his father to come tell him whatever he wanted to tell him. 

But Bruce never came to explain anything. Or to tell what happened between him and Tim. He couldn’t. He just didn’t have the strength yet. Especially not after he told Tim off, and told him to forget about Batman and go on on his own ways. 

Not after he told Tim that there was : “no more Robins”. 

************

The Pond Incident.

It didn’t seem his dad wanted to explain to him much about what happened with Tim, or talk about Jason at all. 

In fact, since yesterday and Tim’s impromptu arrival, Damian hadn’t seen his father at all. Nor did he see Dick (later, he’d learn than both men were together, working a case and trying to focus on it to take their pain away...Later, the boy would learn his father just couldn’t face him just yet). 

When Damian asked “Fafred” (Alfred), the butler told him they were both busy. The boy didn’t even bother, this time, to ask where Jason was. He knew he’d get no satisfying answers. So he decided, just like the day before before he got interrupted by Tim and then spend the entire day waiting for his dad in his room, well he decided to take things in his own hands. 

Now, there was only one solution to this “Where is Jason ?” problem. 

Well, this was the last solution. 

The most logical and obvious one, to Damian’s little six years old eyes. 

Nobody seemed to want to tell him where Jason went, even after two full weeks now ! And Damian looked EVERYWHERE for his brother. 

Now, Jason has always been the best at “hide and seek”. 

It was easy to find Dick, he always used his acrobat background to find the least likely places to hid in...Which made it the most obvious of places to look in, all you had to do, is look in places normal people couldn’t access, and you’d find Dick ! But Jason...Jason was a true master of the art. He always managed to find the best hidden places ! 

But he never stayed hidden for that long ! The most he went on was about two hours, and then he got tired of waiting and went to eat some cookies in the kitchen, which is where Damian finally found him ! 

So if Jason wasn’t in school, if he didn’t have his own Titans, if he wasn’t playing hide and seek...Then there was only one place left where he could be ! 

The infamous and scary “Pond”. 

Both Jason and Dick warned Damian multiple time to not go near it, telling him a monster lived in it so he would keep away. 

Of course, the monster story was a lie. A white one. So they’d keep their baby brother safe. Because that pond was rather treacherous. Even if you were a good swimmer, falling in it, with all the water weed at the bottom, could become fatal rather quickly. 

And so the “Pond Monster” was born. Damian was truly terrified of it, which sometimes made his brothers feel guilty that they invented such a terrifying cryptid. But at the same time, anything to keep him out of danger. 

But today, as the boy thought this was the last place his brother could be, and that maybe the Pond Monster had him, Damian didn’t feel fear. 

On the contrary, he felt rather resolved. And here he was, six years old Damian, slipping away discreetly in the garden, as everyone in the house was too busy and weighted down by their pain to notice...

He approached the water slowly, carefully. He wasn’t about to get snatch easily like that by the monster. Picking a stick from the floor, Damian walked to the pond with wary steps, ready to fight. 

Only the thought that maybe Jason was there kept him going. 

Hey, maybe that’s why nobody was really telling him where Jason was ? Because the Pond Monster was holding him prisoner and they were all afraid it’d take Damian too ? 

“M’not ‘fraid !” 

Damian yelled at the pond, letting the monster know he was, indeed, not afraid. Or maybe, trying to convince himself. 

And here he was, near the murky water. He looked at it, and waited for a few minutes. Waited for the monster. But it never came, so he said : 

“If you have my brother, you have to let him go now.”

Silence. 

“Please ?”

Silence. Damian hits the water with his stick. 

“We can trade, you take me and you let Zayson go ?”

Damian knew that Jason would never let the monster take him, and intended to trick it so he would let Jason free enough so they could both escape ! 

But the pond desperately stayed silent. And the boy now found himself wishing that monster was real. He approached the water even more, and bend above it.

He couldn’t see anything, and so he walked closer still, and then...

There was a reason, both Dick and Jason made sure that their little brother would never come near that pond. In fact, Bruce planned to take it out years ago but never quite got to it...

The sides were directly quite deep, for a pond. Deep enough for a small six years old boy to...

“Woaaaah !”

Damian slipped, and fell right in the water. 

First, before he could even struggle to stay above the water, he felt the cold of it. New Jersey, that time of the year, was cold and unforgiving...

And as Damian’s adrenaline kicked in, making him unaware of the cold, he started to struggle. But the long grass filling the pond were already tangling around him, dragging him down and down, as if they had a mind of their own. 

Damian knew how to swim, he learned fast, as his father was truly terrified anything would happen to his kids...But the panic made the boy get tangled even more in those thick grass, and his little six years old body couldn’t win.��

He couldn’t win. 

His head was beneath the water now, and everything was dark and cold. He cold feel the bottom of the pond, and he could see he wasn’t that much shorter than the depth of it...But the thick water grass wouldn’t let go of him, and he couldn’t reach the surface that was oh so close. It felt that the more he struggled, the more he got tangled. 

And it was cold. So cold. 

“Damian...” 

Jason ? Was that Jason ? Damian could recognize his brother’s voice anywhere. 

“Damian what are you doing here ?” 

It was cold, and he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

“Damian, you’re not supposed to be here. You have to go Damian, you have to go, you hear me ?” 

The boy wasn’t quite sure anymore, but he thought he saw the silhouette of a man next to him, helping him out of the water and...Jason ! This was really Jason’s voice ! Jason was saving him ! 

Probably because of the water, Damian felt like there were two people with him. One that was trying to lift him up above water, and a sort of brighter one, who was slowly fading now...Doesn’t matter. 

Jason was saving him. 

He knew it, Damian knew Jason would never leave him alone. 

Everything was cold and dark, but he felt warm arms get a hold of him, drag him out of the water. 

“Good. Good. Go Damian, go. And I don’t want to see you up until you’re very, very, very old...” 

The boy did not understand those last few words. Wasn’t even sure he heard them. All of a sudden, he was out of the water, coughing and trembling. And someone was wrapping a warm hoodie around him, trying to get him warm. 

“You have to be careful buddy, you have to be careful !” 

This wasn’t Jason’s voice.

The water slowly clearing out of his vision, Damian looked at whoever saved him and...

It was the one from yesterday. 

Tim. 

He was wearing a t-shirt, and was soaked, his hair sticking on his forehead. And he was desperately trying to keep the little boy warm, enveloping him carefully in his own hoodie and coat, that he must’ve taken off before jumping in the pond to rescue Damian. Tim’s own lips were blue, but he didn’t seem to care. 

“Are you ok ? Are you ok ? We have to get back you back to the manor, to where it’s warm ok ? I’m going to carry you ok ? Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you I just want to-” 

“What happened here ?!”

Damian was still not really sure what was happening, still a bit numbed from the cold water and the fear and...Was it really Jason he heard ?

His little six years old mind couldn’t understand everything, right now. Except that the one who asked what was happening was his dad. 

And indeed, as Damian turned to the voice...

“Oh my God what happened ?!” 

“I’m sorry sir, I know you told me you didn’t want any help or another Robin or anything but I was um...In your forrest by accident- yes that’s it, by accident-, when I saw your son going straight to that pond and then he fell and-”

A large hand on his shoulder is what stopped Tim’s anxious rant. And Bruce’s kind and understanding eyes what made him feel safe. 

“It’s alright boy, come on in tell me all about it around a cup of hot cocoa.” 

It didn’t take a genius to gather that Tim had just saved Damian. Taking his own coat off, Bruce put it around Tim’s shoulders, and picked up his youngest son his arms. 

“You’re okay to walk ?” 

“Yes sir, yes I am.”

“Tough little one.”

Bruce smiled at Tim, trying to reassure him. It was clear the boy had adrenaline rushing through his veins and his heart was still beating fast, unable to quite catch whatever happened there...

Bruce knew. Bruce knew what happened. And it chilled him to the bones. 

He couldn’t send Tim away again, not after what the boy just did.

************

Some fresh warm clothes and a cup of hot cocoa later...

What Damian said that day, and what Tim told Bruce, froze the Batman’s blood in his veins. 

What if Tim hadn’t been so stubborn, not wanting to give up helping Batman, and Damian would’ve...he would’ve...

It was time now. 

Not knowing where his brother went almost cost him his life, that’s how the little one desperately wanted to find Jason back. 

It was time now. 

Bruce had to tell him. He had to...

The day he understood what “Death” meant.

"Damian, buddy, I have to...I have to show you something.” 

Comfortably wrapped in a blanket, little Burrito Damian turned to his father and...was shocked by how serious, tired, sad and old he looked. 

Sure, his dad haven’t been the same much lately. Since Jason left. But he also was a little quieter when he let Dick go join the Titans, so Damian didn’t worry too much ! 

Except right now, it’s as if he truly didn’t recognized his dad. Like it was another man in front of him, who was broken. 

When Bruce would look at Damian, at any of his children really, there was always a spark in his eyes. A spark, that was nowhere to be seen right now. 

Which worried the little boy. 

Bruce turned to Tim, and said : 

“Chum, would you mind waiting for us here ? I have to...To...”

“It’s ok Mr. Wayne, I know. I will go home and-”

“Please no. Wait here, there is...There is probably some old clothes that belonged to Dick or...Or Jason, somewhere in the house. Dry clothes. Alfred will take care of things. Finish your cocoa, I will be back and we can...We can talk about Robin. If you’d like.” 

Tim’s eyes brightened and opened wide, he excitedly shook his head and said : 

“I’d love that sir !” 

The pure joy radiating from the boy made Bruce’s heart feel a little warmer, and gave him the last push of bravery he needed to take his youngest son...There. 

To take Damian to Jason’s grave.

After asking Alfred to take care of Tim, Bruce took Damian outside again, in the back garden. So deep in the estate, Damian actually realized he never went there. 

Holding his father’s hand, the boy stayed silent as he walked along side his dad, walked...Somewhere. 

Damian had a bad feeling about this, he didn’t like how wet his father’s eyes were, and how serious he looked. He asked : 

“Where are we going daddy ?” 

“I have things to explain to you.”

“What things ?”

“Where...Where Jason went.” 

“It’s ok, it’s ok, we can wait tomorrow ?” 

All of a sudden, Damian didn’t want to know where Jason was. A scary and uneasy feeling he couldn’t quite pinpoint as he never felt it before was creeping his way in his heart, and he was suddenly taken over by a fear of what was waiting for them beyond the woods at the back of Wayne’s garden. 

Damian didn’t even know their backyard was so big. He always assumed the forrest was the end of it, but no. No. The forrest was part of it. And beyond the woods laid...

Two weirdly carved stones ? 

Damian didn’t like this place. He didn’t like it at all. 

“Where is Zayson ?” 

He asked, worried, wishing very hard his older brother would pop out from behind one of the stone and everything was just a prank. 

“He’s...He’s there.” 

Bruce pointed at one of the stone, and Damian didn’t understand. 

“Where ?”

“Under.”

“Under ? Why ?” 

Bruce realized this was a mistake. How the hell will he explain what happened ? Why didn’t he do it sooner ? Why ? Why why why ? He wished Dick and Alfred would be here. But deep down, Bruce knew this was something he had to do on his own. 

That he owned that much to his son.

“Why is he under there, daddy ?”

“He’s..He’s sleeping.” 

No. No this was wrong. Don’t give the boy false hope. Tell him right away why his brother is buried three feet under...

“Well, when will he wake up then ? Is it weally safe for him to sleep under the gwound ?” 

“He won’t wake up Damian. He...He’s...”

Say it Bruce. Say it. You have to. Don’t beat around the bushes. Tell him. Don’t let him think there’s a chance for him to ever see his beloved brother again.

Say it. Say it. Say it. 

Bruce had to gather all his will, courage and strength to finally say it  : 

“He’s dead, son. Jason is dead.” 

It took a little bit for Damian to start to understand what this meant. 

A little bit for the boy to have sudden flashbacks of Simba’s dad, in “The Lion King”, whom Dick said was “sleeping”. Of why Nemo’s mom wasn’t around after that scary fish attacked. Or why Little Feet had to cross the Land Before Time all alone, without his mama. Why Bing Bong, in “Inside Out”, disappeared. What happened to the Iron Giant...

For him to remember Harry Potter’s parents, who were “killed” by Voldemort. For the first time, he slowly understood what it truly meant. Harry Potter never saw his parents, except when they were...ghosts ? But they were gone. 

Harry Potter’s parents were gone. He couldn’t see them. Ever. They were in a place no one alive could go.

And all of a sudden, he realizes that both his brother’s real parents were “gone”. Somewhere no one could follow them. Somewhere they would never see them again. Somewhere that would sometimes make Dick and Jason sad, because they couldn’t see them ever again. 

For the boy to realize his dad’s parents too, left and were...Dead. 

Which is why he never met his grandparents. And why his dad was Batman. And why-

“No.” 

Damian heard himself say. His little six years old brain refusing to accept that his brother was like Simba’s dad, like Bing Bong, or like...like...

“Damian, yo-”

“No !”

Damian walked to where his dad said Jason was buried, and although he couldn’t quite read yet, he recognized the name “Jason” being written on the stone. His brother taught him how to write it, because the boy drew a lot of things for him and he wanted to address it to him properly...

“Lies ! LIES !!” 

Damian screamed, trying to scratch away the name carved deep in the stone. 

“Zayson is not dead, he’s not dead ! He would never leave me ! He said so !” 

“Damian-”

“Lies daddy, lies ! You’re lying, it’s not nice to lie !!” 

Damian kept screaming, tears slowly welling up in his eyes. His little finger tips where starting to get bloody, as he tried to erase his brother’s name off of this damn “grave”...

“Damian, son, ca-”

“ZAYSON IS NOT UNDER THERE ! HE’S NOT ! HE’S NOT ! HE’S NOT !! He’ll come back Daddy, he will ! We have to take the stone away daddy, or he’ll think we forgot him !” 

Blood was tinting the cold marble of the tomb now. And Bruce quickly grabbed a hold of his boy but...

Kids were so squirmy. 

That’s one of the first lesson Bruce ever learned, when Damian was still a baby and it was such a struggle to put his clothes on, or to change a diaper, as he would squirm all around joyfully. 

Except now, far were the times when Dick and/or Jason would mock him because Damian caught a tuff of his hair and wouldn’t let go, far were the funny moments and laughters as baby Damian literally peed on him more than once, making his older sons laugh too much...

Now, Damian was squirming away from his grasp, crying, screaming...

Heart broken. 

“No daddy, no !!” 

There was a time too, when Damian would say that. Whenever Bruce would scold Dick, for example. Damian would hug his brother tightly, and, barely speaking a few words, would yell at Bruce : “No dadda, no !”, scolding him in turn because no one was allowed to “yell” at his big brother. 

But now, now Damian wasn’t hugging Dick. Wasn’t clinging cutely to his brother. Instead, he had latched his arms and legs around Jason’s grave as best he could, and was now screaming : 

“We can’t leave him here daddy, we can’t leave him alone ! He’s so far fwom us daddy, he doesn’t like it when he’s alone ! You know it, you know it. Zayson hates to be alone, pwease daddy pwease ! We have to bwing him back with us ! He’s ok, he’s ok he’s waiting for us to take him home ! Pwease daddy ! Pwease !”

Tears were running down the boy’s face now. Down Bruce’s face, too, as he tried to unlatch his son from around the tomb...

“Noooooo ! Noooo ! No no no !! Let go ! Let go ! Zayson !! Zayson !! JASSSONNNNNNNNNNN !!!!!!” 

Damian kicked and screamed and cried all the way back to the manor. Kicked Bruce for taking him away from Jason. Screamed that they couldn’t leave him. Cried because he finally understood...

He finally understood what death meant. 

Robin’s Training.

From that day, and although he never cared for it, Damian demanded to be trained like his brothers were. 

Stubborn as ever, he would literally harass his father 

And in many ways, the resolution of his little six years old boy, is what made Bruce open his eyes about young Timothy Drake. 

Both of them wanted to be Robin. One to help, the other because of his brother’s death...

Damian decided “Robins again”, and Bruce complied. 

Although, he started to train Damian making it clear that the boy was under no circumstances going to leave as Robin before he reached the age of 10/11 at least. 

Damian agreed, and that’s how him and Tim started to train under the tutelage of The batman... 

“You’re my brother now.” 

Tim wasn’t like Dick, who wanted to make sense of his parents’ death.

Or like Jason, who never had anyone to care for him and who had to make sense of his own life.

Or even like Damian, destined to become a “Robin” because of who his father is, but also because of who his mother is.

Tim didn’t have any personal motive.

He still had his parents, he was from a rather wealthy family, he...He was just a kid, who was a huge Batman fan, and who wanted to help.

That’s what Tim was to the core, a highly intelligent child who just wanted to help. And that’s what he did. 

He listened to Bruce, became good at fighting, an expert in tactics, and took a completely renewed Robin mantel...

He would go every night back to his parents’ house, where they’d barely acknowledge his existence. How ? How can such a lack of care and love create such a selfless boy ? Bruce didn’t know, but he was proud. And was it bad, that he started to see little Timothy as his own son ? 

The boy would spend most days with him anyway now. With him, and with Damian. 

Which was important. Tim had become the only one who managed to make Damian laugh, at this time. As expected, the boy and his discovery of what death truly was changed him...But Tim. Tim, he could bring back the Damian Bruce and Dick knew. 

Additionally, them being rather competitive, they would bicker often, which would take Damian’s mind off of his pain. 

Damian never bickered with Dick nor Jason. But he bickered a lot with Tim. Closer in age, maybe. They came to quickly care for each others, and were acting like brothers before becoming officially ones. 

Some could think that the shock of losing his older Brother Jason would make Damian not want a new brother, not want a “replacement”...But Tim and Jason were so different, Tim was definitely not a replacement. And it didn’t feel right to Damian anymore, to not have two older brothers..

Tim became part of the family before he was adopted. Before his parents died. 

And when a tragedy occurred, as it often happened in Gotham. When Tim lost his parents...Bruce and his family were ready to welcome him. 

Bruce knew he’d never replace Tim’s real parents, no matter how bad and careless they were, and such. Yet...Yet when Tim stepped foot in the Manor, and had his own bedroom in it, and saw the official adoption papers...

Tim became Robin because he wanted to help. 

He became part of the family because he was always here to help, to care, to love. 

“You’re my brother now.” 

Damian simply stated, but with a lot of emotions in his voice, hugging him as a way of giving him his condolences, and officially invite him in the house...

“You’re my brother now.” 

A simple sentence, a heartfelt one full of promises of never letting one another down.

Yes. Yes. Tim Drake went from “only child” to brother of two. 

The Mastermind behind the Cookie’ rapt.

Lighter days occurred, after this. Jason’s disappearance would forever leave a hole in their heart, of course, but they were all ready to 

“Ok agent Damdam, are everything in order ?”

“Yes agent Tim, it is !”

“Codename agent Damdam !” 

“Oh, sorry. Yes agent TOm, it is !” 

“Good. Now, it’s time to put everything in action.”

Tim became a permanent member of the Wayne family very easily. He fitted right in. 

He LOVED Dick and was a huge fan of his Robin, and as a child, of the “Flying Graysons”. And now, he got to be his little brother and they would get along very well. Dick was living in Bludhäven now, but would often come by.

And with Damian ? Well, he didn’t have that many years of difference with his brother, and although they bickered often, they also got along very easily.

Especially when it was about organizing stealth mission to steal cookies after dinner...

Alfred pretended he didn’t notice, and would always refill the cookie jar to make sure those little secret agent “DamDam” and “TOm” had a way to bond further, and something to steal. 

Is a sister different than a brother ? 

Cass came in soon after Tim did. About six months after. Bruce knew of her prior to her being adopted of course, or rather, he knew about her parents.

He knew what kind of life she lead. He knew how lonely, painful and...Of course, Bruce couldn’t leave her alone. Couldn’t leave her at her father’s mercy. Couldn’t let her stay a weapon. 

They knew each other for a while, when Bruce asked her if she wanted to change, to get better, to break free of the chains her parents forged for her. 

In Cass, Bruce saw a lot what Damian could’ve become. And there was no way he wouldn’t try to save her, if she was willing to be saved. 

And she was. She was. 

And in due time, after many adventures on her own and as a spy for Bruce...She was officially adopted. Just like all his other kids, 

By that point, Damian was used to have new siblings, but he was a little worried...

Is a sister different than a Brother ? 

No. Damian came to that conclusion very quickly. He loved Cass the same way he loved his brothers. She was important to him, and he wanted to be around her when he felt sad. 

In fact, Cass became his shield against “Jason Blues”. That’s how he would come to call it one day. The very specific sadness little Damian felt when he was enjoying something, and wanted to go to Jason because he’d be sure he would enjoy it too...

Jason was always the fun, and funny brother. The one that would let Damian do anything to him, including the times Damian was being a little rough or obnoxious. Jason never said “no” to playing with Damian, like Dick would sometimes do (see previous chapter for more details about all this). 

And even if Jason didn’t have any interest in whatever Damian wanted to do, he’d say “sure buddy”, and would play with him nonetheless. Tim wouldn’t do that either, they were close of course, and had a lot of common interest, but neither Tim nor Dick would just let Damian do whatever he wanted. At least, not all the time. Of course, they would often let him chose...

And so when something happened that Damian really wanted to share with Jason, only to realize that his brother was gone (he’d forget sometimes, that’s how surreal this felt), he would go to Cass. 

Because Cass had a knack to be soothing. To find the right words, to...Maybe it was because she didn’t speak much ? Because she never had to and was taught to never feel ? Maybe that’s why, she always found the exact right short few words to cheer her little brother up again. 

Wether it was a simple “love you”, or “believe in you”, or even “will always be in your heart” (the longest sentence she ever pronounced at the time), she just knew what to say. What to do. 

Cass was extremely touched starved. Her father, of course, wanting an emotionless perfect weapon, would never touch her for anything else than to hurt her. And when Bruce gave her his first hug, she realized...She needed it. 

It made her feel better, made her feel safe and warm. 

And so she wouldn’t shy away from hugging her little brother, wether in public or not, when she felt he was sad. 

Sometimes, he wouldn’t even had anything to say. She’d just know. 

She’d tell him what he needed to hear, hug him, and be there as much as she could, trying to fill the void Jason left behind.

« I’m learning how to read Cass ! »

« Hello Cass ! Cass ! Cass ! Caaaass ! »

Damian was six. And the school year just started. And clearly, something very exciting happened at school, today. 

And that exciting thing was...

“Cass, I’m learning how to read Cass, I’m learning how to read ! I can read you bed time stories now if you want ?” 

Tim was the one in charged of bed time stories, as Dick lived in Bludhäven now. And neither Damian nor Cass knew how to read. 

Cass being heavily dyslexic, she was slower in learning it, and would often become frustrated...Only with Bruce, would she make progress, as he was patient, forgiving, and wasn’t about to give up on her. Ever. 

It touched Cass, that the first thought Damian had, as he was about to learn how to read, was that now, he too would be able to read her bed time stories. 

Cass loved bed time stories. Many would say she was too old for them now, but she missed out on an entire childhood. She never had anyone tell her stories. So now, she had to catch up. 

“Look, I brought my first book from the school’s library.” 

Damian showed her, excitement overwhelming him a bit as he wasn’t able to stand still, and kept jumping from one foot to the other. Cass took the book, and opened it. 

It was one of those stories that had very few words, and big images. Perfect to begin. Struggling, she managed to read the three first words, and when she turned to Damian...There were stars in his eyes. 

“Wooow you read so well already ! Hey, what if we learn together ? It’s funner right ? Right ? Right ? I bet dad would say yes, what about you Cass, you wanna learn with me ? Uh ?” 

It was adorable, how excited Damian was. Cass couldn’t help but think about what Bruce told her once, how his life could’ve been completely different, if he had stayed with the Al Ghuls...

Would he be as excited to learn how to read ? As impressed she managed to read three words ? Would he be that happy over those small things ? 

Knowing her own experience, and how similar it was to what Ras had in mind for the boy...she knew that no, no he’d probably be an entire different child. 

But hey, right now, her little brother’s excitement was quickly spreading to her. Proof that even children with broken childhood such as her, had a chance to change. To have a redemption arc. 

And so here they sat, the both of them, trying to read this new book Damian brought, congratulating and praising each others, and being happy about small things they could’ve never noticed if Bruce hadn’t taken them away from a certain way of life... 

Not that everything was perfect with Bruce. He had many flaws. But at least, he never did anything to stop them from having fun, or enjoying childish things. He never forced them to do anything they did not want to do. He never...

Bruce had many flaws, but they would never want any other father. 

The Red Hood.

Two years after Cass was adopted, Damian was eight now and things were good. Well. Except for...

Bruce didn’t want to believe it, but now, faced with him, he had to admit it. 

There was no doubt in his mind, that this was...this was...

Unfocused, unable to fight properly against him, he took a bad right hook to the face, which broke one of his mask’s lens. 

Jason. 

The way he moved, the way he fought. 

This was Jason. 

He was sure. 

He’d have his suspicion for a while now, seeing videos of the infamous “Red Hood”, and encountering him a few times. 

The man seemed to have a personal vendetta against The Batman, and now, Bruce knew why. 

Jason. It was Jason. 

And Bruce found himself unable to fight him properly. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t hurt his own son...Especially since he himself, thought he deserved all the punches and kick Jason was giving him. 

After all, it was his fault if the boy died..

Years of guilt weighted Bruce down. And he let Jason give him the beating of his life...

“Defend yourself old man ! Don’t humiliate me by doing nothing, come on, defend yourself or I’ll-”

“ZAYSON !!”

Jason froze, as he was about to punch Bruce, and turned around. What...What was he doing here ?!

“Zayson Zayson !!”

The little boy, down there, kept yelling his name, and suddenly, Jason felt his heart beat faster. Felt his heart start again. All the memories...All the memories...

Bruce looked at his son, in Dick’s arms, and understood immediately what happened.

Dick knew his brother. He knew him very well. And he knew that seeing their youngest sibling would awaken something in him. It seemed like it worked, as Jason’s eyes filled with tears, and he let go of Bruce.

“Damian...”

Jason fell to his knees, and Dick put Damian on the floor. The little boy didn’t waste a second, he ran to his big brother, screaming excitedly “Zayson !!” along the way. He jumped into his brother’s opened arms, and started to cry-giggle uncontrollably.

“Zayson, I knew you wou’d come back ! I knew I said to Dad but he said you wou’dn’t but you did Zayson ! You did ! You’re back !”

Tears were running down the face of the little boy, tears of joy. And that giggle Jason sometimes heard, in his darkest moment, reminding him he was still human, still there...Jason’s hold on his little brother tightened, as the boy couldn’t stop his rambling about how he always knew he’d come back.

The Memories that saved him.

He could feel the warm tears of happiness from his little brother warming his cheek, as the boy held onto him.

He was taller than last time he saw him. Of course.

Not much taller, but still, he had a little growth spur, in those two years.

He was eight now. eight…Just a little younger than Jason was when Bruce adopted him…

And suddenly, a surge of memory came back to him. From that first day he met little 3 years old Damian, to his death…

“Hewwo Zayson”, the boy would say every morning, jumping on his bed to wake him up, bright smile and giggles. When he was three, he always struggled to climb onto the bed, and it would take him a hot minute to do so. Jason would pretend he was still asleep, as the boy would finally jump up and say “Hewwo Zayson !”. Over the years, Damian learned how to properly pronounced “Jason”, but just like “Fafred” those cute childish mispronunciation just stuck...And so, the boy was maybe able to talk properly and climb his brother’s bed more easily, he’d still say “Zayson” each times. 

“I drew you Zayson !”, he’d say excitedly, already showing incredible skills and talent at art, regularly giving drawings as gifts to Jay. Jason’s bedroom’s walls could be a  “Damian Wayne’s art gallery”.

“Catch me Zayson, catch me !”, he’d say, running around the manor or the Batcave, and Jason would pretend that he was too fast for him. 

“Zayson, it hurts !”, he’d cry after a fall, and Jason would give him a magic kiss that’d make everything feel better, and a hug. Then he’d make him laugh, and Damian would forget all about his pain. 

Flashes of memories, one after another. Birthdays in his family, finally loved and home. Making the pain of feeling betrayed by Bruce who did not avenge him even stronger...Yet this hurt couldn’t taint everything. 

It couldn’t taint Damian’s smiles. It couldn’t taint how the boy absolutely adored his big brother Jason. It couldn’t taint being woken up every day by giggles and a mischievous smile. It couldn’t taint years of trying to be the best older brother, to such a sweet boy as Damian. 

It couldn’t taint Dick’s teasing. It couldn’t taint how much his older brother worried for him, and told him to be careful when Jason didn’t take things too seriously. It couldn’t taint the nights of fear, being comforted by his older brother, just like Jason would comfort Damian...It couldn’t taint those nights feeling safe and warm, home, knowing his brothers were there.

And it couldn’t taint Bruce’s pride and love for him. It couldn't taint all the moments the man praised him, took care of him when he was hurt (both mentally and physically), gave him this new home and clearly tried to...tried to...

It couldn’t taint how Bruce truly cared...But if he did, why didn’t he kill the Joker ? Why didn’t he do it ? For him ? Just for him ? Maybe...Maybe there was a valid reason ? Maybe...

And it’s those precious untainted memories that made him hug his little brother back. That made him 

Talia did it for them. 

“I know you did it.” 

He says, as if talking to no one in particular. 

But then, out of the shadow, a figure appears. 

The figure of a woman. 

Talia. 

Bruce turns to her, but she doesn’t look at him. Instead, she says : 

“I did it for him. For Damian. And for you, too. But...”

“But it didn’t go as you planned.” 

“No. It didn’t. He stood up from that pit lost and confused, and with no memories of who he was. And when he finally got them back...”

“Is that why you did not tell me what you did ?” 

“Yes.” 

“How long ?” 

“Right after you buried him. We took him with us, to a Lazarus pit.” 

“Was it his idea ?”

“Ras ?” 

“Yes.”

“No. It was mine. I did it for Damian. And for you.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me anything ? For two years ?”

“He lost his memory. I was afraid the shock...He didn’t know who he was. He was not your son anymore.”

“What did you do to him, then ?”

Silence. 

“Talia, what did you do to my son ?” 

“What would’ve happened to Damian if you didn’t take him...”

“What did you do ?” 

“Ras turned him into his personal weapon. Jason was trained already, his brain remembered fighting, but his heart couldn’t remember his life.” 

“For two years ?” 

“A little less. He-he got hurt on a mission. Hurt pretty bad. And he-”

“He remembered.” 

“Yes.”

“Four months ago ? When Red Hood appeared in Gotham ?” 

“Yes.”

There’s a long silence, as Bruce tries to process those new informations. 

So, Talia was the one to bring his son back. And she did it for Damian, for him. But things didn’t go as planned. Jason couldn’t remember, and Ras got a hold of him...Up until...

Up until a few months ago, when a shock brought back the trauma. The memories. And Jason came back to Gotham. 

Jason came back home, only to realize the Joker was still alive. That Bruce didn’t kill him. Not even for him...And so Red Hood was born. 

Bruce’s jaw clenches, as he feels a surge of pain. How much more was this boy going to endure ? Once again, the Batman was reminded of how important his children were in his life. Of how Damian changed his all world. 

And changed Jason’s. How long would’ve Jason fight ? Would he have hit Bruce, that night ? If Damian didn’t arrive, what would’ve happened ? More and more anger, hate, frustration, pain and sadness ? 

Bruce knew Jason didn’t forgive him yet, and only calmed down because of Damian (and Dick). And the Batman was determined to make amend. Amend that would start with a...

“Thank you.” 

Bruce could not be mad at Talia. He could see that her intentions were good. That she really did this for Damian and for him. That she cared. That she loved them. But unfortunately, what kept them separated all those years ago was still the reason they couldn’t be together now. 

Talia couldn’t break free from her father’s grasp. At least, not yet. But at the same time, didn’t she let Bruce take Damian and give him a better life ? Didn’t she use her father’s precious Lazarus pit to bring Jason back ? And wasn’t she here, right now, telling him the truth ? 

There was still some good in Talia, and Bruce would never give up on it. But for now...For now, just like 9 years ago, she wasn’t ready to let go of her father’s legacy. Of her upbringing. 

And so Bruce, without a look back, jumped away in the night, disappearing in the darkness. 

“Thank you.” 

Were the last words he said that night, and Talia watched him go, her heart heavy and wishing things...Wishing she had Damian’s chance when she was a baby, and that someone would’ve taken her away from Ras Al’Ghul.

Home Again.

Jason wasn’t ready. 

No. He wasn’t ready to forgive Bruce yet. He wasn’t ready to call him “dad” again. He wasn’t ready to come back to the Manor.

He wasn’t ready. 

The pain and anger was too fresh. 

“You started to train him ? Him, Bruce ?! And you took a new Robin ?!” 

“Before you get mad at me for this too, please listen to me. Your brother...After you died, and after he understood what happened to you, there was no way of keeping him away from this. You saw how I tried to have him have as little to do with Batman affairs as possible. I never trained him, I never...The only reason he hung out in the cave was because we were there, and it was better than a nanny. Clearly. You know how he hated being away from us. But I never, I can assure you Jason, I never intended for him to want to be Robin. It’s just...You died, and there was no trying to convince him to not want to be. As for Tim, it just happened. He’s a wonderful little boy who just wanted to help and...I’m not gonna let what happened to you happen again. I didn’t let them go out there right away, I trained them for years first. I told Cass. I told her.”

There’s a silence, where Jason looks around to his siblings (he somehow gained two, in his absence). He wanted to talk more about how wrong it was to have another Robin, to train Damian to...Instead he said : 

“I still haven’t forgiven you. You have a lot to answer for.”

“I know.” 

“I’m just here for Damian.”

“I know.”

“And for Dick.” 

“I know.”

“I’m just here because I couldn’t beat your ass in front of them.”

“I know.” 

“Don’t push your luck though.”

“I won’t.” 

“Right. Well then. I’m off for now, I have things to do and-”

Damian grabbed Jason’s sleeves, panicked. 

“You’re not leaving now, are you ??” 

The boy didn’t care at all, wether Jason was “Red Hood” or not, wether he killed many criminels, wether...

“We’re watching Harry Potter, yes ?” 

They used to watch Harry Potter a lot, when he was still alive. When he...

“You’re staying right ? And meet Tim and Cass more ? They’re your brother and sister, too.” 

Brother ? Sister ? New ones ? 

Jason wanted to leave. He didn’t want Damian to know how much he still loathed their father. But...But deep down, he knew he didn’t hate Bruce. He was just...So hurt. Hurt it didn’t seem he mattered enough to...

“Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix ? Your favorite ? Yes ? And with cookies from Alfred !” 

Jason had never been able to resist his little brother. Today wasn’t an exception...And so he stayed. 

He ended up staying all night, marathoning Harry Potter movies. He ended up picking Damian up, and going to put him in his bed, tucking him in, as he did often years ago. 

He didn’t talk to Bruce, but he stayed. He stayed, and met his new brother and sister. He stayed because of Dick. Because of Damian. Because of Alfred. Definitely not because of Bruce...

He stayed. And ended up crashing in his old bedroom, which didn’t change one bit. And for the first time in those two frightening, scary and painful years...

He felt home. 

************

When Damian woke up, he was suddenly overcame with the fear that his brother might not be here anymore ! That him not being dead was just a beautiful, beautiful dream.

So, just like he did 3 years ago now, he jumped out of his bed, and the first thing he did was to run to Jason’s room. 

The way was longer now. After Jay’s death, they all decided to move in the East Wing, and the West wing became sort of abandoned. In the end, only Alfred would go there to keep the place up. Sometimes, Bruce would silently go to Jason’s room, left untouched since he died, and it would be so painful...

The West Wing was pretty much abandoned. Jason’s absence resonated too much, in it. 

And so, as Damian jumped out of his bed, he had to cross the entire manor to go to Jason’s bedroom, who kept the one he used to have. 

But last night was nice. It felt nice, to be with his brothers (and sister too, now !). It felt...it felt...It felt like home. 

This time also allowed him to get more acquainted with both Tim and Cass, and it was clear from that point on, the three of them would become just as close as Jason was with Dick and Damian. 

Jason’s “big brother instincts” had always been rather developed. 

But anyway, Damian was finally reaching his room and...He stopped in front of it. What if, just like it happened three years ago, he’d open the door to find the room empty. 

The bed still made. 

As if Jason never came back. As if Jason would never come back. 

What if indeed, them being reunited and all this Red Hood business was just a dream ? 

What if...

The bedroom’s door open, letting some light in the dark corridor, and a silhouette appears in its frame.

“Oh hey little bugger, thought I heard your footsteps closing in. What’re you doing up so early ? And what are you standing there without-”

Before Jason could finish his sentence, Damian had jumped in his arms. 

This wasn’t a dream ! This wasn’t a dream ! 

Jason was really back ! 

He was taller, had an odd white streak in his hair, and was more of a man now, than the teen Damian remembered, but his brother was back ! 

He truly was ! 

Now, now his family was full again. There wasn’t a huge gap in their lives. A taboo subject no one ever talked about in fear of hurting their family. 

Jason’s name was rarely uttered, in the Wayne’s household. For Bruce, Alfred, Dick and Damian, it was too painful. For Tim and Cass, it was the constant fear of bringing up too many bad memories. 

But it was fine now, he could say his name, they could joke about how he had trouble pronouncing it and “Zayson” seemed to have stuck even now. They could try to mend the pieces of their heart now, they could really try. 

The family was bigger than when Jason left, but it only made his return stronger ! Or at least, that’s how Damian viewed it. 

And so here he was, clinging to him. 

**********

A little while later, Jason walked down to the kitchen to have breakfast, holding Damian in his arms, who just refused to let go. 

The kitchen was empty, but for Bruce, who was eating ice cream straight out of the tub. Talk about a breakfast...

“Are you pregnant ?” 

Bruce rolled his eyes, but took two more spoons to give to his sons. Jason sat Damian on the counter, and sat a seat away from his dad, stealing the ice scream tub from him. 

The road would be long, before Jason could even begin to forgive his dad...But Bruce was hopeful. He was hopeful that Jason would understand. 

His son had always been understanding, forgiving and empathic. Always. 

Maybe that’s why the pain of thinking Bruce didn’t care was so grand ? Probably. But Bruce was determined to fix things. He was. 

The road would be long, but as Bruce looked at his sons smiling and talking about things as if Jason was never gone, Bruce was hopeful. 

Even if his boy would never forgive him, at least...At least his kids were reunited. 

************

Final Crisis. 

Jason was back.

The family was full again. 

The siblings were as close as ever. It wasn’t always easy, and there were fights and misunderstanding and bickering...But even if just like any other family, they had their little differences, things were good. Really good. 

Bruce was a proud father, and trusted them enough that he left Dick in charge of taking care of Gotham, as important matters called him elsewhere and...

That’s when it happened. 

They received a call from the Justice League Watchtower. From Superman. And what he had to say

“I-...I don’t know how to say this guys. I-Your father he-I...Your father is gone.” 

To be continued..

__________________________________________________

I hope you liked it, see you soon with the final part, and don’t hesitate to leave some feedback and to reblog, it’s always beyond appreciated <3.Ok phew, it’s 2 am, off to bed. Sorry for any horrible typo or if it’s not great.

Before I get any question about this, YES, of course Steph and Duke will appear too ! Oh and Babs DUH ! (She was actually supposed to appear earlier but I ended up scratching the idea as it felt out of place in this chapter). They will all appear in the final part, as this took way longer than I initially thought ^^' and I wanna write all of them right (and not just write two paragraph because I fear it’s getting too long and wanna cut to the chase, know what I mean ?). For both Babs and Steph I’ll use flashbacks to talk about how they’ve been in the Bats family for a while, I just really didn’t know how to fit them there right now, it didn’t fit the mood, and for Duke, well he does appear quite late in the Bats stories as he’s a fairly new character so it fits there). By the way, if you have any questions about ages and such in this fic, the explanation is at the end of chapter 1, I went into details about everything.

PS : for people not really reading comics very quickly : in Final Crisis Bruce is rumored dead (he obviously comes back later...with a new costume hahahaha). It’s personally not one of my favorite run, but I do like Dick as Batman and his relationship to Damian is interesting. Now obviously here there’s a MASSIVE change, since Damian normally comes in Bruce’s life not long before his “death”. So I’ll talk about this in the next chapter hehe. More Talia too. Anyway I was saying, Final Crisis and whatever happens in New 52 afterward and all = really not my fav. However, that’s when Duke appears and co (fairly new character, 2014 eh) so if we want him in, we have to go through some events from New 52 and co I guess....ANYWAY HERE WE ARE.  Finally coming to an age we first truly discovered Damian hehe, when he was around 10 :). That’s when the true differences begin.

[masterjedilenawrites]

Grogu was smarter than most gave him credit for, but there were still lots of things he didn't understand. Like why he had been sat atop this strange rock. And what the shiny helmet man wanted him to do.

It was clear he was supposed to do something. The shiny man walked around the rock, babbling as usual, and Grogu just sat there enjoying the breeze and the butterflies, waiting to hear a word he recognized, or feel that wave in his mind that sometimes showed him what to do. The rock had a special sort of feeling to it. Ancient and wise. Maybe he was supposed to talk to it?

The shiny man had been saying the same thing many times now, that Grogu needed to go somewhere he belonged, that he needed to be with his kind... but Grogu was one-of-a-kind. He'd never known family or home or like-ness. At least, not from what he could remember. He only had jumbled memories, the colorful but incomplete kind typical of young children. For him, there were always creatures bigger and faster and more powerful than he. Sometimes they had helped him, other times they had hurt him.

And none of them had stayed for very long.

Grogu wanted the shiny man to be different. He had a special sort of feeling to him, too, one that Grogu knew he could trust from the moment they first met. The shiny man had taken him to so many places, shown him so much of the universe. And always he protected him. Grogu wanted to protect him, too. He didn't want to be handed off to someone else like he always had. Why couldn't he belong with the shiny man?

The man had wandered away, who knew where or why. Grogu was getting lost in his feelings, which happened sometimes. He closed his eyes and a strange sensation overcame him. The wind and the birds and all the sounds around him were now muted, and it was like he was crawling down a long tunnel into space. He didn't know where it was taking him, but he followed it, trusting the wave in his mind that called him there.

He didn't like being tossed around and left behind. He just wanted to belong.

Hmmm....

The end of the tunnel was near. He could feel someone reaching out for him, just as the stripy lady had. Was she calling to him again?

He didn't want to go to her. He didn't want to go back to the Jedi.

Most interesting...

She had said he was too scared for her to train.

He hated feeling small and slow and powerless and stupid. He hated being called a child. It made him angry.

Yes... yes...

He could keep up. He could go on adventures. He could protect himself, and his friends. Why didn't anyone want him?

Feel your fear... 

Well, that wasn't true. There were people who wanted him, but they were mean. They poked and jeered at him. Put him through machines. Kept him all alone.

He didn't want to go to them, either.

Feel your anger...

There. There was the other mind, finally touching his own. It was big and strong, just like the shiny man. It was red and warm, just like a fire. It grinned and Grogu could feel its hope, its excitement. It gave him promises of a life just as powerful, just as exciting. One where he could be included, and he would be wanted, and he'd finally belong.

The life Grogu had always wanted. He could finally have it.

That's where he would go.

To the fire.

.

Um, not sure what this is but I felt called to write it so here we are. Should I give it a title? Should I continue? Should I just leave poor Grogu alone?

[wordmonster99]

Be He Worthy | Fanfiction Preview

Híya, 

So, several weeks ago, I asked which of my upcoming fanfiction titles attracted you the most. “Be He Worthy” was voted for the most. However, I still haven’t been able to upload the first chapter yet. I keep editing and adding. Though, since you guys have been waiting for a little while already, I wanted to give you a little preview (find below) ! Please, tell me what you think! :D

The quiet, hesitant knock on the door told the King exactly who it was on the other side of the door. Glancing up from his papers, he took note of the time and realized his son was already running late. He sighed, already tired despite the early hour of the day and pushed aside his work. A small break, however inconvenient, Mors nonetheless appreciated. “Come in,” The King called and not a second later, the sole heir to the Lucian throne showed his face. The boy stepped inside, wordlessly, with eyes averted, and closed the door behind him before anyone could follow. It also told Mors that this meeting was going to take longer than he would like and that the boy, apparently, needed them to have some sort of privacy. Regis bowed the moment their eyes met, knowing that, no matter the privacy they enjoyed now, Mors always ensured formalities were followed. 

“Father,” Regis greeted.

“Son,” Mors said. 

Silence fell between them, neither of them comfortable, but the elder of them managed to hide his discomfort behind a stoic mask, the younger would probably hold his breath until he passed out, or until Mors decided to speak up - the boy would never dare to do so himself. Folding his hands together, glancing down at the shimmering, cold light the Ring of the Lucii had held for an eternity, the King eventually asked; “I take it you’re ready for your journey?” 

Mors already knew the answer to that, but at least he attempted to hurry this along, the sooner they were out of each other’s presence, the better. Besides, Regis only came to his office, interrupted his work, when he had nowhere else to turn to and this… visit was merely a formality, a chance to say goodbye, even though they had already done so in the public eye yesterday. Sentimentality. It was the main force that drove his son, Mors believed. 

“Yes, father,” Regis answered meekly. “we’re all packed and ready to go. I just-,” He swallowed, as if he didn’t want the words that crawled up his throat to escape, apparently it didn’t work. “I just wanted to say goodbye.” 

Well, his son didn’t disappoint. Sentimentality. Mors merely crooked a brow, and the minor change in his blank expression was enough to let the colour drain from Regis’ face. “We already did, I believe,” The King said, but sounded surprisingly… gentle, even to himself. “yesterday,” He continued when his son remained silent. “You ought to remember; the whole court was there.” 

A very small, very hesitant smile spread across the Prince’s lips. “I do,” Regis said. “but I wanted,” He trailed off again, hands twitching at his side, as if he wanted to let them express his lack of explanation. He would simply have shrugged, if he were not in the presence of his father. 

Mors could no longer stand the rather sad sight and decided to bring his conversation - if one could call it that - to an end. “Yes,” He said, as if he understood what his son had meant to say, but if he did would forever remain a question neither of them knew the answer to. “but I don’t think it necessary. We both have more important things to do.” The King leveled his son with a look. “You do realize how important your task is, don’t you?” 

The boy had no colour left to lose, but somehow he did, as the blood froze in his veins. Green, terrified eyes widened at the question in shock, but other than that, Regis remained composure, or so Mors would have thought… Yet, there seemed to boil something just beneath the surface, if the reaction of his son was something to go by; “Of course, I do.” He almost spat and Mors suspected his son might actually be insulted by the fact his father thought so little of him. Needless to say, the King was not impressed with his tone of voice and he told his son so by a simple, slight raise of his brows. It was enough to let Regis deflate in mere seconds and the Prince cleared his throat awkwardly. “Of course, I do,” He repeated, with much less heat this time. 

“Do you?” The King asked - challenged - and looked the boy up and down with scrutiny. Regis was tall, but despite his height, he lacked a towering presence. Perhaps it was because of his slender frame: long, toned limbs, but no actual bulk of muscles no matter the years of training. He had widened a little through the shoulders and chest in the last few years, but other than that he was all sharp angles and intensely coloured eyes which often  did all the talking for him. “Because if you do, then I suppose I don't have to tell you that failing is not an option.” 

Regis looked taken aback, but apparently not enough to be lost for words. “I know,” He said and it didn’t escape Mors how desperate his son sounded. “I know what is at stake. This is the lives of our people we’re talking about and I don’t take their wellbeing lightly. This war needs to end, one way or another, and I want to do everything I can to help.” 

“You’re not just helping, Regis,” Mors said. “you are to play an active role in his war. A war which Lucis cannot afford to lose.” 

“We won’t,” The boy began, but the King cut him off. 

“That is just wishful thinking. You certainly won’t win a war with that!”  

“I know that!” Regis protested. “I didn’t,” 

“You certainly seem to know a lot, but you never actually act like you do.” 

It was more than enough to stun his son to silence. Regis could far too easily be played, especially when confronted with his own insecurities and it wasn’t below Mors to use those to his advantage. Perhaps, it was time for Regis to finally see the truth - the actual truth. Yet, the King had to give his son credit when deserved, because Regis kept his face straight, even though the words clearly had hit home. In the end, the boy even dared to ask; “Why send me on this mission if you have no faith in me anyway?” 

Mors knew the boy was smart, perhaps even smarter than Mors thought himself to be, but doubt and unreasonable fear ruled his son’s otherwise quick mind. The King let out a tired, uncharacteristic sigh and impatiently snapped; “Because you have to prove your worth somehow!”