#(she was right though. I was the youngest on the floor by about thirty years)
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start of 2022 to june 2023 was the longest streak i ever went without going to the hospital outside scheduled appointments and not even a year later i have a nearly three week stint in the hospital and am back to being on a feeding tube 16 hours a day for the first time since i was a toddler. i usually joke about being disabled and stuff but this shit sucks. i hate that my health has just been insane since i’ve been in the womb and there’s absolutely no stability in terms of knowing how well i’m doing. stopped having hospitalized pneumonias when i was ten, then had one when i was 17 and like it’s been almost ten years but who knows!!! hopefully the next time i need heart surgery it’ll be a cardiac cath instead of open heart b it who’s to say!!! we never thought I’d be on a tube again but here i am at 26 and I’ve had two types just this month!!! all the doctors talking to me tell me how well i’m handling things and how complex my case is and how they hope they get me “back to normal” because i’m “just so young” and then just look sad when i say I’ve gotten used to this since birth. i’m just so fucking tired. this shit just doesn’t end y’know, you think you’re finally something close to normal and healthy and then you realize you were just going through a quiet period
anyway sorry for the vent post have a picture of my dear sweet friend pim pimling
#had a phlebotomist during my stay walk in and go ‘you’re too young to be here!’#and I try to joke and have a good attitude and just kind went ‘eh I’ve been in hospitals since I was a baby!’#and she just got quiet and sad and like. sorry. really wasn’t trying to bring the mood down#(she was right though. I was the youngest on the floor by about thirty years)#anyway one of my surgeons wants to present my case at a Gi conference so that’s fun#the thing is I have a lot of rare defects that aren’t inherently comorbid which is… complicated#I’ve had many doctors straight up admit they don’t know what to do with me#some of my disabilities are commonly comorbid but… a lot of them really aren’t. i’m just a weird mixed bag#and a lot of people even medical professionals have just never met anyone with some of my disabilities#they’re not like. ‘only a few hundred or thousand cases’ type of rare#but they’re ‘if you’re not a specialist you could probably never meet someone with this’ rare for some of them
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𝟎𝟎𝟑 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐀 — 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓
[ The audio opens up with the creak of a metal door followed by footsteps. ]
SHIKI: I'm sorry I'm late. I was havin' a smoke, you see. It relaxes me before times like these, ehe. Anyways, my name is Shiki. My brother and I are the wardens here.
RYUKO: Ah. I see. It's nice to meet you both. I'm guessing you guys know who I am already?
SHIKI: Of course we do, silly! Uh- [whispers] Brother, which one is she again?
SHIRO: She’s Ryuko Irie, sister. Try not to forget next time…
SHIKI: Riiight, Ryuko Irie, Prisoner Number Three! And I won’t forget next time! You’ll see!
RYUKO: ……. [She sighs.] Can we get this over with?
SHIRO: Better sooner than later I’d say.
SHIKI: I got this! Name, age, and occupation, please!
RYUKO: Ryuko Irie. I’m thirty-five years old. And… I don’t have a job.
SHIRO: So I went from the youngest prisoner to the oldest … How come you don’t have a job? Any special reason, or were job searches just failing you?
RYUKO: Oh, believe me. I tried applying. Rejection after rejection after rejection. My daughter’s restlessness didn’t paint me in a good light, either.
SHIKI: You have a daughter? SHIRO: Yeah, I forgot to tell you that. Mochizuki mentioned it to me earlier. Say, how old was your daughter?
RYUKO: Three. I miss her dearly.
SHIKI: Did anything happen to her?
RYUKO: …………………… [ She says nothing, just sighs heavily and looks down at the floor. ]
SHIRO: …Perhaps we should move on from that subject.
SHIKI: Ah, right… Say, Ryuko… How have things been around here? Any prisoners you’ve gotten along with?
RYUKO: Mmm. Choko keeps me company a lot. I’ve grown rather fond of the kid. Though I wonder what she’s been through… she seems rather mature for her age. As a mother, it worries me.
SHIRO: I did wonder if you started to see her as a daughter yourself.
RYUKO: Yes, I do, in a way… She reminds me of myself when I was younger.
SHIKI: Interesting. About before… Why were you having trouble getting hired?
RYUKO: Ah… Well, it’s… a long story. I’m not sure you want to bother with it right now.
SHIRO: I’d say that any information is good information, if you’re comfortable telling it. Maybe try and sum it up?
RYUKO: Well… Some unfortunate circumstances happened, and… my husband left me after my daughter was born. Money was tight, so I tried to apply, but… Because I had a kid, and no one to watch over her… they deemed me unacceptable. It isn’t fair.
SHIKI: Ohh… Is that why you aren’t wearing shoes?
SHIRO: I don’t think you’re supposed to make comments like that… anyways, I’m sorry the job market was so difficult for you.
RYUKO: [ There’s a long stretch of silence before she replies. She seems to be staring off into the distance. ] That……isn’t the reason, no. I… I don’t want to talk about it.
Anyways, why are we even bothering with this conversation? I’m guilty as charged, so just go ahead and sentence me already.
SHIKI: Huh? Just like that?
SHIRO: That at least answers my next question, however sad it is. But we’re having this conversation to get to know you and not make baseless assumptions.
RYUKO: You guys are wardens, right? Isn’t it your job to hand out our verdicts? Getting to know me is pointless when I’m telling you that I’m guilty. I admit it. I killed her. I killed her with my own two hands. So just… sentence me, dammit!
SHIKI: Brother, this is getting too intense…
SHIRO: As much as we’d all love to get out of here as soon as possible, it doesn’t work like that. Even when this trial is over it won’t work like that. Firstly, we still need to know what's going on … on the inside.
RYUKO: ………….. [She says nothing, just averts her gaze with tears in her eyes.]
SHIKI: I don’t think she wants to do this anymore, brother.
SHIRO: …Are we done here then?
RYUKO: …..Do what you want. I don’t care.
[ The mechanical bell tolls once more, indicating that time is up. ]
SHIKI: How about I start us off? [She clears her throat.] Prisoner number three…
SHIRO: Ryuko Irie…
SHIKI & SHIRO: Sing your sins!
[ MV: GEHENNA ]
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oooo maybe you could write one where sirius parents bash him before a game and we see sirius, the team, parents reaction
This fic was pure catharsis. Thank you for the ask <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove
TW for past parental abuse (canon for Sirius' parents), attempted physical abuse, confrontation, emotional fallout, cutting ties with toxic family
And how do you feel about your youngest son’s decision to go to college?
Sirius taped his socks down with a black roll. The rainbow stared up at him from his duffel, unused and judgmental.
We’re very disappointed in Regulus. He’s throwing away an irreplaceable opportunity and we expected better after everything we’ve done for him.
Her voice had been controlled and deadly soft, with just the right amount of regret. She almost sounded sad, if that was an emotion she could feel.
And Sirius—
We don’t speak of Sirius, his father had interrupted. The interviewer had faltered in silent surprise. He’s made his choice.
He’s been very supportive of Regulus to the media—
He’s always been stubborn and contrary, ever since he was a child. The coldness Sirius remembered well from his childhood had leaked into his mother’s voice, taking away the false disappointment and replacing it with a cruel edge. He would say anything to go against us.
The interviewer had looked between them like a rat caught between two mountain lions, finally realizing the gravity of his fuckup. Sirius applauded him—it took him seven years to figure out just how dangerous that house was, and only thirty minutes for this stranger and his microphone.
Do you keep in contact with Sirius?
And then came the kill stroke. His father’s face like stone, and his mother’s nose high in the air as she spoke like the hissing snake. Sirius Black is the greatest regret of my life.
The interview had ended less than a minute after that statement. The reporter didn’t seem to know how to respond, and Sirius didn’t blame him. It wasn’t every day one was told point-blank someone’s parents wished they’d never been born.
A hand brushed his shoulder blade and he swiped his sleeve under his nose. Left skate, right skate, get up. Get up. Get up, play the game. “Mon fils?”
Dumo would be looking at him like he needed to be pitied. Revulsion rose up in his throat at the idea. “Ouais?”
There was a rustle as Dumo crouched to his level, turning his face away from the rest of the silent locker room. Shutting Remus out and ignoring everyone’s texts in the two hours since the video’s release had been difficult, but necessary. They had a game to win. He didn’t need people spilling their sympathy all over him about something he already knew, no matter how hollow he felt.
The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently. “Are you alright?”
“Let’s win this thing.”
“Sirius—”
“They didn’t exactly hesitate to tell me that to my face for eighteen years, Pascal,” he bit out, staring at the floor. He couldn’t bear to meet that kind gaze. Not when he needed to muster some anger to fuel him through the game. “I’ve known I was the family disappointment for years and it hasn’t stopped me yet.”
“Please don’t bottle this up.”
“It’s fine.” He sniffed again, though no tears threatened to fall. “This has always made me stronger.”
“You didn’t have to be strong,” Dumo said quietly. He sounded like his heart was breaking. “You were supposed to be safe and loved and—”
“None of that was an option, so I did the best with what I had.” A tremor was building in his stomach and he swallowed it down, gripping the edge of his seat. “I’m going to go warm up before anyone else starts pissing me off.”
It was a cruel thing to say. Something that his mother would do before guilt-tripping him. But at the moment, he’d rather ask for forgiveness later than fall apart like some poor, lost child who had finally reached his limit.
He took his stick and marched past the rest of his wary-eyed team, intent on burying the pain in a few good slapshots to get his head back in order before the fans arrived. Maybe he could ask Remus to sneak away for a quick, heavy makeout session or some other distraction that would ground his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to go into a game with his whole life tilted on its axis.
The door flew open before he even got a hand on the knob—he flinched as an armful of person fell into him and the door slammed closed again. Fingertips dug into his upper arms almost painfully as Regulus stared up at him. “Maman est là,” he hissed.
Maman est là. Words offered as a warning and an olive branch less than a year prior, words Sirius hadn’t heard since a canyon of ice and six years of separation sat between him and his brother. Even after everything they had been through, his stomach still leapt into his throat; finally, with a heave and a groan, the dam of hurt gave way to anger. “Where?”
“I saw them coming in. Nobody’s allowed into the rink yet, but they were going that way and I think they were at your house and they know I’m home from school and they’re looking for me.” Regulus was shaking as he clutched Sirius’ arms. There was an old fear rising in his gaze.
Sirius could feel his heartbeat in his ears. “How do you know?”
“La vidéo. They know they lost you, but I’m still fair game. They were coming for something, and I’m the only thing they have left.”
Sirius Black is the greatest regret of my life.
Sirius took a deep breath through his nose, holding Regulus’ shoulders loosely as he choked back the urge to hide. They had always been good at that—for all its faults, Grimmauld Place didn’t lack for nooks just big enough for two small children to curl up in. “You’re okay,” he heard himself say. He should have known better than to think his mother would give up that easy after All Stars. “Stay here. I’ll take care of it.”
“Cap, we can handle them,” Talker said quietly behind him. The weight of their eyes pressed heavy on his shoulders.
Sirius stayed silent for a long moment before running a hand down his face. He could wait for security to kick them out of the rink, or for his teammates to be bravely stupid and fight that battle for him. He could hide with Regulus, then go out and lose a game. That was safe.
And yet safe had never been an option for Sirius when it came to his parents, and he was tired of walking on eggshells around them. He was tired of running away, of pretending like they didn’t haunt him, of constantly wondering whether they would slip back into his life when he least expected it. He had loved them, once. He liked to think they had loved him, too. But he was done clinging to the scraps.
“I’ll take care of it,” he repeated with a reassuring squeeze of Regulus’ shoulders and a kiss to the top of his head. His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he made his way out of the locker room, lonely and cold until they were joined by others tumbling over each other. “I didn’t ask you to come with me.”
“Don’t even start,” Remus said dryly. James just scoffed.
“I don’t want you to come with me,” he tried again, though his courage surged at the sounds of their voices.
“Say bad things about captain, say bad things about team,” Kuny said. There was none of his jolly humor in his deep brown eyes when Sirius glanced back. “Wait to meet assholes for very long time.”
Two black-clad figures—mon dieu, the drama never stops with them—stood stark against the red and gold stands as the six of them entered the rink. His heart stuttered in spite of himself. They were arguing with a pair of security guards, but his mother stopped when she saw him. Her pale hand rested on his father’s arm, and then Sirius was bearing the full weight of their combined gazes for the first time in over a year.
He was seven, and got caught sneaking an extra glass of juice from the fridge.
He was freshly ten years old, and Andromeda had put her sparkly hair clips in his too-long bangs as a joke that his parents didn’t appreciate.
He was fifteen, and desperately keeping back tears while their silent disappointment filled the car in a choking cloud.
He was twenty-three, and Thanksgiving went from bad to worse and he knew he couldn’t hide that mark from Pascal.
He was twenty-seven, and he had five members of the best family he knew flanking him. Not fighting his battles, but supporting him.
A slender hand touched his lower back and he let out a slow breath. “We’ve got you,” Remus murmured.
Every step was steady as they crossed the ice; the shush of half a dozen pairs of skates soothed him. “Orion,” he said as they pulled to a stop. “Walburga.”
Her thin lips twitched. Of all the features they shared, he was grateful he had skipped that particular one; he’d rather not spend his life looking like his favorite hobby was sucking on lemons. “Sirius.”
Next to him, James’ breathing was tightly controlled. “Why are you here?” Sirius asked. Straight to the point. Give them nothing to bite at.
“We’ve come to take Regulus home.”
“He’s not here.”
“Liar,” his father snapped. Sirius clenched his jaw around a flinch. “He’s not as sneaky as he likes to think.”
Sirius kept his chin high. “You’re not allowed to see him.”
“Oh, petit, you sound like me,” his mother cooed.
He took a deep breath to calm the tide of snarling fury. “Get out.”
“No.”
One of the security guards stepped forward. “Mr. and Mrs. Black, nobody is allowed in the stands for another—”
“I wasn’t addressing you,” Walburga said icily, not breaking eye contact with Sirius as she held her palm up to the man. “Speak when you are spoken to.”
The poor man seemed baffled, and Sirius offered a slight shake of his head when he looked over. “Neither of you are welcome here and you know it. You made your feelings toward me perfectly clear earlier today. Rest assured I will not contact you.”
Manicured nails, sharp as claws and twice as deadly, curled around the boards as she leaned forward an inch. “We’re not here for you, mon regret.”
To his right, Leo’s breathing went shallow. “Get out of this rink,” he said, voice low like Sirius had never heard.
“I wasn’t speaking to—”
“Drop the attitude,” Remus interrupted. Sirius’ chest hitched with instinctive fear, but he stayed put. “You’re no better than anyone here, Walburga.”
Her steel grey eyes flickered over them before settling on Sirius again; he reveled in the faint pink flush of anger on her cheeks. “Control tes chatons et ta pute before they shame you further.”
“They’ve been more of a family to me than you ever were. Get out of here before you shame yourself.”
“You’re a failure and a disgrace.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“We’re not leaving without Regulus,” his father said. The warning in his tone reminded Sirius of an avalanche siren, inevitable and familiar, marking the moments before cold pain set in.
Sirius gripped the bench in front of him until his knuckles were white. “Over my dead body.”
Movement flashed in his periphery and he caught his father’s wrist half a foot from his face as five shouts cut off behind him. Adrenaline flashed to his heart like lightning—he had never stopped a hit before, just taken them and then moved on. Bones and joints flexed under his fingers and shadows covered his father’s brow. “You—”
“Lay a hand on me again and I swear to god this whole country will know what selfish, cruel, and disgraceful excuses for parents you are.” A shaky feeling spread all the way through Sirius’ abdomen. His father’s wrist felt surprisingly fragile in his loose hold. “I will drag your name through the mud and I will enjoy every second of it.”
“Is this how you repay us for everything we gave you?” his mother hissed through her pearl-perfect teeth. “Everything we did, we did to make you better.”
“And it was never good enough,” Sirius snapped. He knew his voice was louder than he had tried to keep it, but the fear was fading and the anger was dimming and he just wanted it to be over. He wanted to be done with the dance he had been forced into since he was too young to understand. “Nothing I did was ever good enough for you, and you made me think it was my fault for falling short of your bullshit expectations.”
“Watch your language when you address—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Soul-sucking silence fell over the room and Sirius felt his heart skip a beat before something like glee bubbled in his stomach at the sight of his mother’s abject shock. “For once in your life, shut the fuck up when I’m speaking to you. Are you listening to me now?”
He took their lack of response as a ‘yes’.
“I’m not your property,” he continued, releasing his father’s hand. “Regulus is not your property. You have no claim to either of us and I will be damned before I see you take his happiness away. I have a family. You have nothing. Get out.”
“You are an ungrateful child and always have been.” Walburga had returned to her lethal softness, but it didn’t scare him as much as it had when his life felt as if it was in free-fall. “You would rather throw your lot in with cheaters and thieves before returning to your family.”
“You threw away your chance at being my family the second you started treating me like a profit instead of your son.” Sirius swallowed hard as the words left a bittersweet taste on his tongue. “I didn’t ask them to come here with me, but they did it because they care about me. I am not a successful hockey player because of anything you did. I am successful because there are people in my life that love me without my skates and that is something you have never understood.”
Simpering disdain tilted his mother’s mouth, like it had when he said he wanted to be a firefighter at age five. “Nobody will remember you for anything but your name.”
A grin tugged at the corners of Sirius’ mouth until he stopped trying to hold it down, letting the sheer hilarity of that statement slip free for just a moment to watch the triumph on their stern faces wane. “And when people hear that name, they’re going to think of your queer, married son and his queer, college-educated brother and they won’t remember a damn thing about either of you. Now get out of my rink.”
“Don’t speak of debasing yourself—”
“I debase myself damn near every night—”
“You spit in the face of everything we—”
“You didn’t do—”
“Regulus was the only loyal—”
“Regulus is happier without your claws in him—”
“Do not interrupt me again!” his mother shrieked, grabbing him by the arms and yanking him close.
Three different hands grabbed his jersey to pull him back, but her nails couldn’t bite through the sleeves. Sirius smiled. “You are nothing without Regulus and I, and that’s your own fault.” He glanced toward the security guards, each of whom had one of her elbows. “Could you get them out of here, please? There’s a game tonight and I don’t think they have tickets.”
And Sirius watched as his parents were led out of Gryffindor Arena boiling with rage and utterly helpless, left with nothing but bluster to their name. A familiar weight fit against his side like a puzzle piece and he lifted his arm to rest over strong shoulders. “Proud of you,” Remus said with a light kiss to his wrist.
James cuddled under his other arm and Sirius held him tight as a sigh fogged up the bottom half of his glasses. “Can we still drag their names through the mud?”
“I could go for some mud-dragging,” Leo agreed.
Talker snorted. “Throw a little slander in there and it’s a party.”
Kuny’s hand was heavy as he ruffled Sirius’ hair with a light sniffle. “Strong man, captain,” he said, uncharacteristically quiet. “Good man.”
They headed back to the locker room together, all wobbling the second their skates came off the ice, yet unable to fall as their looped arms kept them steady. Sirius felt his bones beginning to shake from the dimming adrenaline. Regulus looked up from where Kasey was braiding his hair and smiled like the sun itself when he saw Sirius’ face.
Collapsing into Dumo’s hug felt like coming home.
#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#regulus black#pascal dumais#kuny#talker#thomas walker#leo knut#lions#walburga black#orion black#sweater weather#vaincre#lumosinlove#my fic#fanfic#hurt/ comfort#angst#past abuse#standing up to toxic family
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true lies - s. r. (1/15)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.
Chapter Summary: Spencer and you have your first encounter, after you left him a year ago. Spoiler: it doesn’t go well.
Warnings: angst, secrets, swearing I think, typical criminal minds stuff
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: tadaaaaa. it’s finally here! my first series! tell me if you liked it! love you! gif not mine.
Series Masterlist
The first thing you notice is the complete silence that takes over the room. The last time you had been here, it had been crowded and so noisy that you could hardly understand your own words. People had been everywhere, talking or exchanging theories, but your gaze was fixed on the desk overflowing with books. Now there are only files, carefully sorted and stacked on top of each other.The office is empty, no agents, no witnesses. No one. You take a deep breath.
It's been some time since you've been here. Almost a year, but everything in this building is all too familiar to you. The coffee maker just waiting to be used in the kitchen. The law books gathering dust on a shelf. It feels like you've never been away.
"Y/N," a woman's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You have to tear your gaze away from the desk in front of you, and your eyes find a tired, yet incredibly good-looking Emily Prentiss standing outside her office door, smiling at you like you just saw each other yesterday.
"It's good to see you," you say, and she wraps you in her arms after she closes the office door behind you. It feels good to finally have her by your side again; after all, you had been best friends before you left. You hug her one last time before carefully pulling away from her and sitting down in the chair in front of her desk.
"It's good to see you, too," she replies, dropping into her chair. She places her hands on the desk and interlaces her fingers. "Of course, I'd love to know how you've been this past year, but I'm afraid that will have to wait." She opens a drawer to her right and reaches for a file-your personnel file, you realize-and lays it open in front of her. "I've been informed that my request has been approved and you'll be rejoining our team," she says, smiling briefly at you. "It took a favor, but you're well worth it to me."
Your stomach tightens at the thought of Emily owing someone. You swallow the sour feeling spreading down your throat and nod at her. "Thank you, Emily."
She tilts her head and her gaze slides from your face to your kneading hands. "You're not happy with this, it seems. What's wrong?" Emily doesn't need to profile you to know something is bothering you. She knows you too well to miss the change in your behavior.
"I don't know if this is a good idea," you confess.
"And why is that?" asks Emily, but she already knows the answer. She knows what happened a year ago, and she certainly knows more than you do, because she had been here for the last year, after all. Before you can answer her, the door opens and a colorful person comes in.
"Good morning, my beautiful and strong boss," the one and only Penelope Garcia speaks without looking up from her iPad. "We have a new case that I would like to discuss with you before the whole team arrives. It's about -" When Emily doesn't answer her, she looks up and her gaze immediately lingers on you. You're surprised she doesn't drop the tablet on the floor as she rushes toward you to yank you out of the chair and into her arms. "Y/N! What a relief for my tired brain to see your beautiful face! Am I dreaming?" She breaks away from you and gives Emily a look. "Please tell me I'm not dreaming. I couldn't take it."
A smile spreads across Emily's face. "You're not dreaming, Pen. Y/N is actually back."
"Oh, how wonderful!" she squeals, pushing her glasses back up with her index finger. While she says something else to Emily, you look at her. She really hasn't changed in the last year. She's still the colorful bird of the BAU, and that's a good thing.
You notice yourself starting to smile, but then she utters the thing that erases the smile from your lips. "How's Reid doing? Have you guys talked yet?"
Emily makes a hand gesture for Penelope to drop the subject, but your expression has instantly changed when she said his name. It stabs you in the heart and cold shivers run down your spine, and only with difficulty can you suppress the tremors that want to overtake your body.
"I'm afraid the team is already here," Emily interrupts the silence and casts a glance out the window into the open-plan office. Even if you want to follow her gaze, you don't dare and your body is still in rigidity. She gets up from her chair and walks towards the door, but before she opens it, she turns to you once more. "If you need more time, that's fine. Take all the time you need. But your place is here with us, Y/N. We're your family." And with that, she and Penelope leave the office.
She's right. The BAU is your family - even if you hadn't seen or spoken to any of the family members in the last year - and walking out now wouldn't change the situation. The circumstances under which you left - had to leave - were anything but normal, and you hope that your decisions would be met with understanding, but you can't count on that. So you tighten your shoulders, push through your back, and follow them into the conference room. Your heart beats up to your neck and your hands sweat as you stop on the doorstep.
Your gaze fixes on the youngest team member, except for you. His brown curls are a little shorter than they were a year ago, and it doesn't take you ten seconds to notice that it's not the Spencer Reid you know sitting at the table. The year had changed him. Your absence had changed him.
Rossi is the first to notice you, which is because he glances over his shoulder. "Who do we have here?" he asks playfully, before rising from his chair and taking you in his arms. But you're only peripherally aware of that. Your concentration is on Spencer, who stares at you unblinkingly before jumping up and storming out of the room. JJ, sitting next to him, reaches for him, but he wriggles out of her grip and he runs past you so fast that it's easy to call it an escape. JJ smiles weakly at you before putting her hand on your arm. She doesn't need to say anything, her look tells you that she's glad you're back, but you're also aware that she wants to take care of Spencer, so you nod at her and wordlessly she follows the genius of the team.
The rest greet you with great joy, Rossi presses a kiss on your cheek and Alvez puts his arm around your shoulders, but you look out the window and see Spencer and JJ talking. His face is red and even though you can't hear his words or read his lips, you know exactly what it's about. The blonde tries to calm him down, wanting to put her hands on his shoulders to make him stop shaking, but he avoids her and takes a step back. The gesture is enough, as she drops her arms and doesn't follow him either when Spencer leaves the bullpen. You know he won't be back in the next few minutes.
Garcia tells you about the case and you try to focus on her words as best you can, but again and again your mind wanders to Spencer. His reaction to your return is understandable and you don't judge him for it. You have no right to do so; after all, you are responsible for his condition. You hope that soon there would be a quiet moment when you could talk about the past, but you are not optimistic. He pushed JJ away from him a few minutes ago, which is definitely not a good sign. You try to push the thoughts of him to the back of your mind; after all, there's a case to solve, and although the current situation isn't ideal, you're looking forward to it. It's been a long time since you've worked properly.
"All right," Emily says, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Wheels up in thirty."
"Hey," JJ addresses you as you freshen up in the ladies' room. You glance at her in the mirror and she smiles at you. "Are you okay?" You both know this question is purely rhetorical. She is, after all, Spencer's best friend. Aside from the two of you, she probably knows best what's been going on, but still not everything.
You turn around and lean against the edge of the sink. "I'm trying to get used to everything," you reply, pursing your lips into a thin line. "It's changed quite a bit while I was gone."
She nods. "Yeah, it did." She takes another step toward you. "Look, you have to give him some time, all right? This year hasn't been very nice to him. I hope you can understand that." She sounds sincere and, above all, concerned, which is why you don't resent her little speech. Of course, you're already aware of all this, but hearing it from her confirms your suspicions.
You are to blame for Spencer's condition. And there's no way you can straighten things out anytime soon.
Spencer rejoins the team only on the plane, but he avoids your proximity or your glances at all costs. He takes the seat next to Alvez, which is almost at the other end of the plane, and he is completely silent. The others, of course, notice the tension that has spread through the group since your arrival, but they all have the decency not to bring it up. But by their manner they let you know that they don't stand between you. You had been gone a long time, and they know halfway what had been going on, but they didn't take sides, and for that you are infinitely grateful.
"Alvez, JJ, Simmons. You guys talk to the families. Find out if the victims share any common traits that might connect them," Emily says, dividing the team into focus groups as usual. She glances around the group. "Rossi, Reid, Y/L/N, you go to the coroner's office while -"
"No." It's the first word Spencer has uttered since you boarded the plane. You expected his voice to be weak or to reveal any other signs of uncertainty, but the word came from his lips in a firm tone, leaving no room for discussion. Spencer looks up from the paper file and before he looks at Emily, his gaze brushes yours and at the coldness in his eyes, your blood freezes in your veins.
"All right," Emily says without elaborating. "Alvez, you switch places with Reid. Tara and I will go to the local police department and talk to the detectives. Let's catch the killer."
To say the mood on the plane hit rock bottom would be an understatement.
Forensics helps you out a bit. The victims were drugged before they died, causing hallucinations, which is probably why they self-inflicted injuries. Also, both victims have the same cut wounds in the same place. Definitely not a coincidence. Alvez has Garcia dig up some information on the way to the police station, which is why you could briefly organize your thoughts, but Rossi tells you about a new dish he'd like to cook for you sometime, and you'd been gone too long to block out your work dad. Besides, your mind would only be on Spencer and that's not moving you forward either.
"According to the relatives, none of the victims were unpopular, loners, or even depressed," JJ begins as the team gathers. You take a seat in the chair facing Spencer. When he notices, he gets up and sits somewhere else. The main thing is to get out of your sight. You sigh imperceptibly, but Luke turns in your direction and raises an eyebrow. You shake your head.
It hurts that Spencer doesn't want to be near you. In fact, it almost breaks your heart, but you can get used to that. He should go ahead and hate you. You could handle that.
The day flies by and when the team checks into the hotel in the evening, Spencer grabs one of the keys and leaves without another word. Sadly, you watch him go and Emily puts a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. Eventually, it would get better. Later on, you sit on the bed with her and tell her about the year you've been away, the people you've met, things you've experienced, but each anecdote brings you back to the one topic that makes your heart skip a beat.
"You have to tell him, Y/N," Emily suddenly says seriously, and you shake your head.
"No." It sounds almost as harsh as Spencer on the plane, but there's still some pain hovering in the air with you. "I'm not going to tell him, Emily."
"He thinks you left him because he went to prison. In his mind, you basically left him at the altar," she tries to change your mind, but to no avail. She would not succeed. You had sworn to yourself that this matter would remain a secret, something you would both take to your graves. And you have no intention of breaking that vow. "You were engaged, for gods sake" Emily's tone sharpens. "Don't you think he deserves the truth?"
"I'm not going to tell him. It's for the best."
Emily looks at you incredulously, but also knows she can't change your mind. "Best for whom?"
That night, you lie awake, tossing from side to side but unable to find sleep. You don't feel guilty about what happened. You don't question your decisions you did back then. It was the right thing to do. It bothers you because of Spencer, because of his reaction to your return, because of his hostility. JJ had asked for your understanding and you would do anything to mend fences, but you're not sure that's Spencer's intention either.
After two hours, you get up and slip into sweatpants and a sweater before leaving your room. As if of their own accord, your feet carry you down the hallway, to a destination you shouldn't be going to. As you turn into the hallway where Spencer's room is, you stop, rooted to the spot.
JJ is standing on the doorstep to his room, saying something to him before he leans down and pulls her tightly into his arms. His hair is messy, and even from this distance you can tell Spencer is leaning on JJ with all his weight. You have to swallow. How much you want a hug from him.
JJ is the first to disengage, saying goodbye to him and disappearing in the opposite direction, while Spencer stops and watches her go. There is a small smile on his face and he looks more relaxed than he did earlier in the day. As he turns to go back to his room, his gaze lingers on you. The smile disappears and his body is tense to the breaking point.
Time seems to stand still. It feels like an eternity that you stare at each other without speaking a word, but there is so much coldness in Spencer's eyes, so much pain, that you can hardly stand it and want to look away. But you're transfixed. Your hand raises of its own accord, as if in greeting, and your mouth opens, but before you can say anything, Spencer takes a step back and slams the door behind him. Only then do you realize that you've been holding your breath.
next part
- tags -
@obsssedwithjustaboutanything // @ashwarren32 // @slytherinbth // @rexorangecouny // @candlemouse // @cloudybau
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid angst#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#spencer reid x reader smut#derek morgan#Emily prentiss#Jennifer jareau#david rossi#Penelope garcia
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I'm in a mood™ so i was wondering if you had any hcs of the batkids growing up together? (babydamibabydami)
I've done this before in this ask but I'm more than happy to add on!
(Also screw canon age gaps, I'm doing what feels right.)
Bruce, Talia, and Selina are all co-parents in a poly relationship
Duke likes to finger paint
Babs got a used accordion for fifteen bucks at a garage sale
Damian's first "real" food was Talia's rice pudding
Wayne Enterprises has an entire floor dedicated to looking after not just Bruce's, but all the employees' children. Carrie declared herself the "Queen of the Fourth Floor"
At one point Tim was getting bullied so Dick drove Cass, Jason, Harper, and Cullen to the bully's house in the middle of the night and the five of them stood outside their window with plague doctor masks chanting in Latin until the bully swore to lay off
Just like how Damian's first word was Jason's name, Damian's first steps were toward Jason after a bad day at school
Dick is lowkey jealous knowing he's not Damian's favorite sibling
Steph and Duke made a go-kart out of a red wagon, and that's how there's a Duke-shaped hole in the fence
Cass owns fifty water bottles but uses the same one every day
Bruce chaperoned Dick's junior prom
Selina gets each kid a cat on their birthday
Babs came to class late with coffee one time and the entire class now calls her the "Starbucks white girl"
There's an under-the-table vegetable swapping system at dinner, where the kids trade out the ones they don't like for the ones they do. The ones nobody wants are mashed up and given to Damian
Carrie is the champion nose-picker
Steph and Duke were born just a few hours apart at different hospitals, and are therefore known as the twins
Tim is not allowed to use chopsticks. Not even the little kiddie ones
Cullen once brought an entire head of lettuce to school as lunch
Bruce plays classical music around Damian, but Jason counteracts it with trashy punk rock
Bruce: "Studies say it helps babies grow intellectually"
Jason: "He's not supposed to grow, he's supposed to be our baby brother"
Duke likes cherry tomatoes over regular tomatoes because they're colorful
Harper got her motorcycle license before her driver's license (thanks to Kate)
Dick slices his string cheese. Wally bites into his. Babs is horrified by both
Nobody remembers the last time Bruce Wayne was seen not wearing a baby carrier
When Duke eats salads, he imagines he's a giant consuming an entire land (and the olives are people)
There's a five-year gap between Jason (age 12) and Tim (age 7). The reason is since Bruce adopted them in birth order when they were babies, he planned to stop at five kids, but then Jason got irrationally angry about being the youngest so Bruce got Tim and it all spiraled from there
Harper once melted an entire stick of butter and convinced Cullen to drink it
Dick once tried to sell Jason on eBay
Damian is very territorial. Nobody can touch his stuffed animals—even for washing—unless he gives them explicit permission
Tim once tried a cheese taste test with Damian, and that's how they learn Damian is lactose intolerant
Harper once bought thirty pounds of beef jerky online (she accidentally typed a 0 after the 3)
Talia helps Jason with Arabic homework
Damian produces the stinkiest farts
All WE employees get six months paid maternity/paternity leave
Tim and Kon got "married" on the playground with Jason as the officiant, Steph as the flower girl, and Duke as a ring bear (he dressed up as a bear and brought Ring Pops)
Steph and Duke are kept on child leashes when they go to the amusement park because they keep trying to get on rollercoasters they're too short for
Jason's also kept on a child leash, but that's because he tried to take the head off every costumed mascot at Disneyland
Even though the ingredients are the same, Dick inexplicably makes PB&Js better than everyone else
Kate can clear ten hot wings in sixty seconds
Bruce has appeared on the cover of more parenting and family magazines than celebrity and business ones combined
Instead of using her skills to hurt people, Talia uses them to protect her newfound family
Alfred secretly joined a senior citizens book club to brag about his grandchildren
Someone once said to Selina, "You know he's always gonna pay attention to kid kids first, right?" To which she replied, "I wouldn't have picked him if he didn't"
#ask#anonymous#batfamily#batfam#batclan#batman family#batkids#batsibings#dc comics#headcanon#tw food mention
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it’s complicated || p. parker
summary: peter parker’s son attends a wonderful daycare, a daycare ran by (y/n).
pairing: peter parker x reader
warning: none! :) peter is aged up to his early twenties, no one knows peter is spider-man, tony is gone in this series.
an: a new series! whoop whoop! so excited! and thanks to @loveaffaire for helping me decide between giving peter a son or a daughter!!
The room was painted a neutral baby yellow, walls decorated with rainbows, superheroes, flowers, and planets. The floor in the main room was accessorized with one of those large foam alphabet mats. There were five toddler sized tables scattered all over the large room. At one time they had been white, but now they were covered in crayon, markers, and food stains. Colorful storage containers lined the back wall, filled to the brim with toys of all kinds.
It was usually filled with about ten to twelve screaming toddlers, but not right now, not this early. The clock read a quarter past six, and you had about forty-five minutes to set up for the day with your small friends. It was a Tuesday, which you had dubbed ‘Craft Tuesday,’ where the toddlers spent the day making their parents or guardians crafts.
Gathering supplies and printing out worksheets didn’t take very long as you only selected two crafts for today. The schedule for this Tuesday was quite simple. They would spend the whole morning continuing to learn how to write their names, followed by lunchtime. After lunch, they would enjoy some recess time, take a nap, and then finally begin their crafts.
Most of the kids were usually dropped off around eight o’clock, you had a few early birds that got dropped off between seven, when you opened, and seven-thirty. Your co-workers came in closer to eight, since that’s when most of the kids got there. So you had time to yourself in the morning, after prepping everything for the kids, which you enjoyed with coffee and your breakfast.
That had been your morning routine for the past four years, but you worked here for an additional four years. You had attended this exact daycare when you were younger, until you aged out at six. But the owner was a family friend. So at fourteen, she ‘hired’ you. You came in after school and helped out with the kids, for community service hours. She even helped you get the proper qualifications needed to work at her daycare.
At eighteen, at her daycare the minimum hiring age was eighteen, she offered you an official job. Since you were done with high school, and now had a ton of free time, you obviously accepted. That was four years ago, and now you were the lead worker. Even though you were the youngest one there. You had always wanted to work with kids, even as a kid yourself. In fact, last summer, you graduated college with a degree in early childhood education. You wanted to do this for the rest of your life. Eventually opening your own daycare center, but that wasn’t in the books for another decade or so.
After practically inhaling your breakfast, you heard the first knock ring through the building at exactly seven o’clock. “Good morning, Ms. Graham.” You greeted her with a smile, closing the door behind her as she entered, keeping out the chilly morning air. “And good morning to you Reilly!” You crouched down, so you were eye level with the small girl, “Can I give you a good morning hug?” You never handled the kids without asking for their permission or without warning.
Her small head nodded up and down, tiny arms wrapping around your neck, squeezing you. Securely, you wrapped your arms around her small abdomen, bringing her up with you to your standing height. She rested on your hip, while you talked to her mother who signed in her daughter. Writing down her name, her daughter's name, and the time. “Say bye to mommy!” You waved towards Reilly’s mother, the small girl copying your movements. The older woman blew her child a kiss before walking back out the building. “Why don’t you hang up your coat, Ri?”
The stream of parent and child duos slowly picked up as the clock ticked closer to eight o’clock. You greeted them all similarly to the way you greeted Reilly and her mom, some opting for high-fives and special handshakes instead of hugs. A couple minutes after eight, the main room was stuffed with nine toddlers. There was a cacophony of sounds filling the room this morning. Small feet running across the foam mat, giggles caused by peek-a-boos, funny sentence formations, and the occasional frustrated cry.
Two of your coworkers had made it in at around seven-forty-five, and they were supervising the toddlers while they played. You were sitting at the receptionist desk, waiting for a few additional minutes for any late arrivals. As you stood to go join the others in the main room, the door opened, two familiar faces popping in. “Miss (Y/N)!” The smaller one exclaimed, running right for you. You scooped him up, pulling him close to your chest. “Good morning, Ant-Man!” You heard him giggle in your ear.
Anthony was a five-year-old boy, and a spitting image of his father. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin. You turned towards Anthony’s dad and greeted him, “Good morning, Mr. Parker.” You smiled at him, and his lips upturned, you could tell he was tired. His hair was disheveled, but pushed back. He wore a black undershirt with a blue monochromatic flannel and a pair of black jeans. “How’re you this morning?” You asked the older man, setting down the small child and telling him to hang his coat up in his cubby. “Exhausted, as always.” His laugh was small, and you chuckled back in a similar manner.
“Well, nap time is at one o’ clock, I can set out an extra sleeping pad if needed.” You joked, nervously twiddling your thumbs. “I might take you up on that offer, (Y/N).” His laugh was stronger this time. “Hey, it’s eight-fifteen, we should start soon.” Jamie, one of your coworkers, said from behind you, out of habit, you glanced down at your watch, confirming the time. “Of course.” You said turning towards her with a nod. “That’s my cue, have a good day, Mr. Parker. We’ll see you later.” You gave him a small wave and turned on your heels, walking towards the main room.
The morning half of the day went well, all the kids made a name book. The name book had their name written on the front, and on the following pages, they wrote each letter of their name on its own page, and next to it they drew an object they started with that same letter. That took most of the morning, as some of the kids had longer names, but the kids with the shorter names spent the morning playing with toys in the main room once they were done.
Lunch went by without a hitch, since the daycare required the parents to provide the kids lunch. This was easier so you weren’t dealing with picky eaters or allergies. Recess was always good, except for a couple boo-boos. You purposefully held nap time after recess because the toddlers would usually tire themselves out and knockout as soon as their head hit the mat.
After the quiet giggles and murmurs ceased, and all the kids were either sleeping or acting as such, you took a seat in one of the small plastic toddler chairs. During this time most of the adults cleaned up any mess, ate their own lunch, read a book, scrolled through their phones, or chatted off in a corner somewhere. Today you decided to read a book, you had been stuck on this book for about a month now, never having the time to read it.
There was some shuffling beside you, another small chair placed to your left, Jamie taking a seat. “Whatcha reading?” She asked in a whisper, there was a child sleeping only five feet from you. “Some mystery novel I found at an old book store.” You flashed her the cover, she read the title. “So how’s your DILF crush going?” Her blunt-nature made your eyes go wide, and you gasped a little louder than intended. The small boy shifted on his mat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You adjusted your facade, playing dumb. “Anthony’s dad? Mr. Parker.” She nudged you with her elbow. All you said was “You’re delusional.” Before glancing back towards your book.
Craft time was always the most fun part of the day, even if it did get a little messy. They got to use crayons, glue stickers, markers, colored pencils, and sometimes washable paint. “Aren’t you gonna sign them, Anthony?” You asked him, crouching to sit on your knees beside his table. “I did!” He insisted, pointing at four small letters on the corner of his page. The name he signed was ‘Tony’ instead of ‘Anthony.’ He didn’t usually sign things this way, this wasn’t a nickname you had heard him be referred to before.
“Who’s Tony?” You asked softly, as he picked up a crayon to start coloring his next craft. “Daddy said that’s who I’m named after.” He explained, his tongue poking out in concentration. “Was he your grandpa?” You asked him. It took him a few minutes to respond, “Mhmm, my grandpa was Iron Man.” This wasn’t the craziest thing you had ever heard, but it caught you off guard. “Oh really, is that true?” He nodded his head frantically at your question.
Anthony always had an affinity with superheroes, hence your nickname for him, Ant-Man, it sounded like a superhero name. His favorite was overwhelmingly Spider-man. That’s how the two of you first bonded, Spider-man was also your favorite superhero. “Well, that’s very interesting.” You said, obviously thinking it was a fib. Finally you stood, ruffling his hair. His small hand came to rest on yours as you pulled away, “But it’s a secret.” He whispered. You brought your hand up to the corner of your mouth, pretending to lock it with a key.
Glancing down at your watch and it was approaching five o’ clock, the rush of parents would start soon. In order to retrieve their children, unless they were the ones who brought them in that morning, they had to provide identification and needed to be on the check-out list. They had to then write their names, the child’s name, and the time they checked out. Some parents were there exactly at five, and others didn’t get there until almost seven, when you closed. Anthony was always one of the last kids to get picked up, Mr. Parker always seemed to work pretty late. He was the only parent you didn’t know a lot about.
You always stayed later than the rest of your coworkers, this job was literally your whole life. Anthony and you were the only ones still in the building, the two of you playing superheroes. Both of you were wearing capes and running around the main room, fighting a fake villain. Between his loud giggles and your fake fighting noises, you hadn’t noticed the sound of the front door opening and closing.
Someone behind you cleared their throat, making you jump. As you snapped your head in the direction of the noise, you heard Anthony cheer, “Daddy!” His tiny feet ran towards his dad, who was leaning against the receptionist desk. Mr. Parker picked the small boy up, placing him on his hip. “Hey, Spider-Dude! Are you having fun with Miss (Y/N)?” He asked the small boy, glancing at you with a smile. You could feel your face warmup, as you undid the velcro piece of the cape around your neck.
He nodded furiously, as his father did the same and took off the cape. “Sorry for being late, work is crazy, as always.” He apologizes, grabbing the small jacket and bag out of Anthony’s cubby. “Don’t worry, I love hanging out with my Ant-Man.” You insisted, offering to take the cape from the older Parker. As you returned the capes to their proper hooks Anthony spoke again,”Look what I made today!” His tiny hands pointed towards one of the small tables where his artwork sat.
His father grabbed the two pieces of paper and he smiled at the messily colored superhero. “Look I signed it.” His index finger pointed to the four-lettered name in the corner. “Tony, huh?” Mr. Parker asked with a smile. “I told Miss (Y/N), about grandpa.” His voice was hushed like he was telling a secret, but you could clearly hear him. “You did? Did she believe you?” He asked his son, but you felt as if he was actually asking you.
The small boy nodded furiously, brown eyes staring directly into his father’s similar ones. “Wait, are you actually a Stark?” You were genuinely shocked. Was Parker his mother’s maiden name? You had never heard about Peter Stark, only Morgan Stark. “It’s complicated.” Peter said, shaking his head. “It’s an incredibly long story.” He chuckled at the thought of it.
“Well, maybe I’ll get to hear it sometime.”
#spiderman x reader#spiderman one shot#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman x you#tom holland x reader#tom holland one shot#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x you#spiderman#tom holland#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker one shot#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x you
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hi all of your aus are amazing! pls what happens with divorced!obiwan and the twins?
hey!! sorry this took so long i had to think of an appropriate cliffhanger
this is a continuation of this ficlet and this ficlet, where divorced!obi-wan accidentally acquires a partner and a set of twins.
(2k WHOOPS)
The twins are not, and probably have never been described by anyone except their father, angels. They take to Obi-Wan as well as Obi-Wan takes to them, which is to say that all three of them watch each other suspiciously until one day Luke launches himself off the top of the fridge--how the fuck did he manage to get up there--and Obi-Wan drops his morning toast in a frantic bid to catch him.
After that, Leia and Luke apparently decide he is Another Anakin Who Is Just Around A Lot Less But Is Better At Reading Bedtime Stories and deign to treat him as such.
Obi-Wan decides that he’s going to have a heart attack by the age of fifty. Do all children see a childproof house as a challenge?
It somehow takes both a longer and shorter time to win over Anakin’s favor, mostly because Obi-Wan isn’t sure what the man’s thinking at any given moment. He seems to blow hot and cold depending on how he woke up or how the work day goes. Some days, Obi-Wan comes home from campus and Anakin and the twins have waited to eat until he’s there. Sometimes they’ve eaten and there’s a meal under foil on the stove just for Obi-Wan.
(“I don’t know how you do it,” Obi-Wan tells him one night after the children are put to bed. “I mean, work from home with your job, mind the children, and cook?”
“They made me head of the R&D department a few months ago,” Anakin admits, taking a sip of his second glass of wine. “So I’m doing a lot more checking through other people’s work instead of making my own. It just means I can do that and make something edible--no, really, you just can’t cook, Obi-Wan, I’m not the best either.”
“Do you miss getting to make something other than food?” Obi-Wan asks eventually, giving himself enough time to recover from the sound of the other’s giggles.
Anakin shrugs languidly. “It’s better salary, and I’m the youngest ever in the company to have the position. Means I’ll pay off my student loans quicker, same with my mom’s hospital bills. Doesn’t matter what I want.”
Obi-Wan’s chest hurts and he wants to lean across the gap between their chairs and place his hand on Anakin’s arm, but they don’t know each other like that. It’s only been a month and a half since they moved in. Still. “It always matters what you want,” he insists. “And I think you’re amazing.”
Anakin blushes bright scarlet and takes a huge gulp of wine, and Obi-Wan wonders if this is a throwing-yourself-off-the-fridge break through.)
(It’s not because the next day, Anakin doesn’t say a single word to him, which bothers him more than he’d like to admit.)
(“Am I in the wrong for wanting to get along with my housemate?” Obi-Wan asks Quinlan despairingly during their office hours that he should be using to grade papers. Instead all he can think about is Anakin Skywalker and the goddamn cold shoulder he’s been getting from the man for the past three days.
“Yeah,” Quin says absentmindedly, marking something with a red pen before looking up at Obi-Wan’s outraged intake of breath. “I mean, no. I mean, sorry, Obi, what are we even talking about now? Is it still your hot new roommate with the two kids? Because that’s what we were talking about an hour and a half ago.”
Obi-Wan crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “I’m just not sure I appreciate--”
“And you said he’s not been hanging around in the living room when you get home? But he’s still leaving you meals in the kitchen? And you’re upset about the free food?”
Obi-Wan is upset at the lack of Anakin’s presence, but he thinks that’s probably not the right thing to say here.
“Maybe he’s just tired?” Quinlan puts down his pen and rests his chin on one of his hands as he looks at Obi-Wan. “From the kids and the job and putting up with your moody ass. C’mon, Obi, what’s really getting you worked up?”
Obi-Wan purses his lips and stares at the desk in front of him, but he had come to Quinlan for help. He should at least be honest about what’s eating at him, even though he knows how silly it will sound when given a voice. “...Satine always waited up for me,” he mutters. “Until she didn’t.”
Quinlan’s quiet for a worryingly large amount of seconds, before he reaches out to pat Obi-Wan gently on the arm. “Oh, Obi,” he says pityingly. “Repeat after me. You cannot make your new roommate your rebound from your thirty year marriage.”
Obi-Wan scoffs. That’s not the problem at all. “That’s not the problem at all,” he says, not defensively in the slightest. “I think I’m just worried about the children not having enough structure in their lives.”
“Right,” Quinlan says, not quite managing to hide the skepticism in his voice. “Then you should talk to him. For the sake of the children.”
Obi-Wan will absolutely not be doing that, but it’s a nice thought.)
The real turning point in Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship happens five months after the Skywalkers move in.
Anakin and Obi-Wan are in the living room. Anakin is trying to braid Leia’s hair while Obi-Wan tries to pretend he isn’t watching. From the kitchen, there’s a very, very loud crash and the sound of something shattering.
Both adults leap up from their seats immediately and run to the other room.
Luke is standing in the epi-center of disaster, little face scrunched up like he doesn’t know whether or not to cry. At the sight of his dad and Obi-Wan, he starts to wail, moving forward and reaching for Anakin.
Obi-Wan, who is wearing shoes inside the house (a point of contention between himself and Anakin), grabs Luke roughly and picks him up by the armpits before he can cut his feet on the glass. He hands him over to Anakin to soothe, stepping further into the kitchen to find the dustpan he keeps in one of the pantries.
It’s very obvious what broke, though Obi-Wan can’t for the life of him understand how Luke got ahold of Satine’s heavy cake stand. He can definitely understand how Luke dropped it, as the thing was ridiculously heavy.
It had been one of the only things left in the house that had been Satine’s. She’d left it, and Obi-Wan had been too bitter or petty to point it out to her. Yes, it had been her mother’s. No, keeping it had not made him feel any better. But it’s not like Satine ever baked anything anyway.
Good for Luke, actually, for doing what Obi-Wan never could bring himself to do.
He grabs the broom and dustpan and marches back to the pieces of shattered glass. Anakin has placed Luke on the counter, ostensibly to check to make sure his feet are fine if the boy would ever let go of his father’s neck. Leia is peering around at the mess on the floor.
When Obi-Wan comes back and starts sweeping everything away, she darts forward to pick up a rather sizeable chunk.
“Don’t touch that,” Obi-Wan says sharply, much harsher than he intended. Leia drops it instantly and scurries back to her father, eyes wide and sort of watery. Oh, fuck.
“Hey,” Anakin snaps immediately. “She’s just trying to help and Luke didn’t mean to break--whatever that is.”
Obi-Wan holds up his hand to cut Anakin off. “I’m not mad,” he promises all three of the Skywalkers. And he’s not even lying. He’s really not mad, hasn’t even thought to be mad at this last piece of proof of his relationship with Satine shattering on his kitchen floor. “I just don’t want either of you to cut yourself. Glass like this can be very dangerous and none of you are wearing shoes.”
“Promise?” Luke asks, untucking his red face from Anakin’s neck so he can peer up at Obi-Wan.
“I’m sorry I was a bit rough,” Obi-Wan apologizes, coming over and bending down a bit so he’s on the same level as Luke. “I was just worried about you. Promise.”
Luke sniffles but lets go of Anakin to throw himself at Obi-Wan, apologizing all the way.
“Hush,” Obi-Wan says as Leia scrambles up his leg, vying for his attention. With his hands full of children that aren’t his, he raises his head to look at Anakin who’s watching them with a very strange expression on his face. He tilts his head toward the broom and then down to the kids in his arms. “Come along,” he tells them both. “Leia, I’ll finish your braids if you’d like.”
“Braid my hair too!” Luke demands with a pull on Obi-Wan’s shirt.
Luke’s hair is floppy but awfully short. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” Obi-Wan says generously, leaving the kitchen.
“I suppose I’ll just clean this up then?” Anakin calls sarcastically behind them.
“Thank you, darling,” Obi-Wan responds.
There’s the sound of something else breaking, but it’s not Obi-Wan’s problem at the moment.
(A year later, Anakin mentions something over morning coffee about looking for a new apartment, now that he’s got everything straightened out. “We’ll get out of your hair,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ll look today since it’s my day off.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t want to examine why that idea makes something curl tightly in his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous, but it does. On his way out of the house, he unplugs the router, and then after a second of thought, takes it with him just in case.)
(Quinlan laughs his head off when Obi-Wan sheepishly puts the router down on the desk in front of him. “It’s a bad market right now,” Obi-Wan says defensively. “I’m just looking out for him.”
“Obi, I mean this in the best way possible, but there are at least four professors in the psych department that would probably love to do a case study on you.”)
(Two years after the Skywalkers move in, Obi-Wan is running late for a meeting with the head of his department. The man is stepping down, finally retiring, and Obi-Wan thinks that perhaps he’ll be tapped as the new head. It would mean dropping some of his classes, but it would be worth it.
“I made you a breakfast wrap,” Anakin greets him at the door, holding out a paper bag. “It’s got that salsa you like in it.”
The salsa Obi-Wan likes is the mild version of what Anakin and the kids eat, but Anakin treats it as if it’s from another planet entirely.
“Good luck!” he says with a sweet smile, also passing Obi-Wan a travel mug of what’s hopefully fully caffeinated tea. Obviously Obi-Wan needs it. He got perhaps two full hours of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about this meeting and now he’s running late and his tie is crooked and none of his favorite sweater vests were clean.
“Thank you, dear one,” Obi-Wan mumbles, mind somewhere else. If traffic isn’t too bad, he could still be on time.
“Text me how it goes!” Anakin chirps, following Obi-Wan out the door to stand on the front porch with his arms crossed in an attempt to fight off the early winter chill.
“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replies, turning around to brush an absent-minded kiss to Anakin’s lips before hurrying to his car. It’s a twenty minute commute. If he gets his preferred parking spot and runs to the department building, he won’t be late at all.
Is that too much to hope for?
He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, looking back in the rearview mirror to see Anakin standing frozen on the porch. That’s strange, usually the other man can’t stand being out in the cold.
Obi-Wan gets to the first stop-sign out of the neighborhood before he realizes what he’s done. It’s lucky that he’s already slowing down, because he slams on the brakes. Did he--
Did he kiss Anakin? Did he really kiss Anakin as if he does it all the time? As if they were in a relationship?
Oh shit.
Frantically, he pulls out his cellphone from his bag and checks to see if he has any new messages. He doesn’t.
Oh. Shit.
#asks#one more ficlet in this universe and i will have No Choice but to piece them together somehow on ao3#there was supposed to be a bit where one of his students is like 'oh i didnt know you were a father!'#and obi-wan is like 'im not a father'#and then he plugs in his laptop to pull up the powerpoitn for the day#and his background is a picture of luke and leia#not even doing anything theyre just sleeping peacefully in his favorite armchair hugging the same book#anakin had sent it to him#with the text that they were taking turns playing Obi-Wan and Student#but the game was so boring they fell asleep#KUWSK
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New baby blues
Harry Styles x Melody Styles
(part of the styles fam series)
When the fourth and final Styles child is born on Valentine's day, one of the children is a little less than excited.
Warning: none
Word court: ~2.1k
gif not mine.
Everyone in the Styles household remembers the day that Brinley was born in vivid detail, all except for Lila.
Lila was only four years old at the time, which is usually when children’s prime memories begin to happen, but not for Lila. Her family often made jokes about how she had been brain wiped after that day, that’s how bad it was.
Melody was almost to full term during her pregnancy when she went into labor the day before Valentine’s day, and that did not sit right with Lila.
Her parents were only trying to rush out the door to go to the hospital once Gemma had arrived to watch the other three children, but Lila was not having it. Melody was already waiting outside in the car though, leaving Harry to have to fend for himself.
“Daddy, daddy.” She was gripping onto the side of his trousers as he grabbed his wife’s hospital bag from the closet next to the front door. “Please don’t go.” She then begged.
It made her father’s heart swell when he looked down to see his now second youngest child holding like her life depended on it onto his hands, with tears welling in her eyes.
“C’mere, muffin.” He sighed, reaching down to pick her up. “I know you don’t want mommy and daddy to go, but when we come back we’re bringing a new baby with us.”
She did not look enthused, “Why?”
Gemma quickly interjected so Harry wouldn’t have to face anymore disappointment, “you’re going to get a baby brother or sister. Isn’t that exciting, Lila?”
Again, not enthused. “No, I don’t want another baby.”
“Another?” Harry looked down at her from where she sat in his arms, “No honey, there’s only one baby coming home with us.”
The tears that had welled in her small blue eyes finally began to fall down her face, “b-but what about me, daddy?”
“Awh, precious,” Harry felt awful as he pulled her small head into his chest as she cried, “You will always be my little girl, you know that, don’t you?”
“But what’s going to happen when the new baby is here?”
“You’ll be a big sister, Lila!” Kennedy, Harry and Melody’s eight year old daughter tried to make it seem exciting.
“Noo” Lila whined, burying her face deep into Harry’s neck.
Lila’s parents could sense the tantrum coming from a mile away, that’s when Gemma quickly scooped the little girl out of Harry’s arms, “okay, Lila, mommy and daddy have to go now.”
That only caused more whining and squirming from Lila, making it almost impossible for Harry to walk out the door.
But he did, right after saying goodbye to all his children and kissing Lila on the cheek.
But even once the Range Rover pulled out of the gated driveway, Lila still continued to scream.
“Lila, baby, why are you crying?” Gemma asked as she sat down on the couch with Lila in her arms, positioning her to be sitting on her lap.
“I don’t want daddy to bring home a baby!” She sobbed, burying her head into her aunt’s chest.
“Kennedy, why don’t you come tell your little sister how fun it is to be a big sister?”
Kennedy came jogging over to her aunt, a big smile on her face as she sat down next to the two of them. “It’s super fun! You’ll love it, Lila!”
“Daddy’s going to forget about me!”
The eight year old took her little sister’s small hand, “No he won’t Lila, dad didn’t forget about me when you were born, so he wouldn’t do that to you either.”
“See, Lila, being a big sister is fun!” Gemma smiled, lightly pinching the little girl's cheeks, making her smile. Then she looked at Kennedy, “Thank you, Kennedy.”
That night when Lila went to bed, she asked Gemma if she liked being a big sister, Gemma responding by saying “Of course, and you’re going to love it too.” Making her smile before falling asleep.
******
The next day was not the greatest, for all of the kids. They were all aware that it was Valentines day, but it definitely didn’t feel like it was.
“Are mom and dad still at the hospital?” Grant asked Gemma groggily as he reached the bottom of the stairs, Kennedy following closely behind.
She only nodded, a small frown lacing her face when she saw the disappointment cross the two kids’ faces.
Harry and Melody loved Valentine's day, and they wanted their kids to also, so they always woke the kids up with balloons littering the living room at the bottom of the stairs, along with pink, heart shaped pancakes for breakfast.
Later in the day, they would order adorable heart shaped pizzas from their favorite pizza shop, and gorge on all types of festive candy after dinner.
And the kids loved it, but this year, their parent’s weren’t even home to greet them on this special day.
“Well, are they going to be home soon?” Kennedy asked next as the three of them walked into the kitchen.
Lila was still asleep, probably being exhausted from all of her crying last night.
“I don’t know guys, it just depends on when the baby is born.” Gemma felt awful as she saw the somber looks that the children carried. “Ya know what? I’ll call your dad after breakfast and ask how everything is going.”
They both nodded, “So, what do you guys want for breakfast? I can make you some cereal, or some eggs…” Gemma trailed off.
That’s when the tears began to flood Kennedy’s eyes, the realization that her parents weren’t here to spend Valentine’s day with them finally hitting her.
Gemma looked back after hearing a lack of a response, “Kennedy, what’s wrong?” she stepped towards her when she realized she was crying.
“Dad always makes up pancakes for Valentines day, shaped like hearts.” She whispers, making both Grant and Gemma look down sadly at her.
“And him and mommy always fill the living room with balloons.” Grant adds.
Then Gemma sighed, quickly picking up her phone, “Okay, let me make a quick phone call and I’ll see what I can do, okay?” She gave them a hopeful smile as they nodded.
Gemma dialed her brother’s number as she walked out of the kitchen and into the laundry room, shutting the door quietly behind her.
“Hello?” Harry’s voice sounded tired, and it was very likely that his sister’s phone call had woken him from his sleep, but Gemma didn’t care.
“Ya know, Harry, if you are going to leave me with your children while you go have a baby on a national holiday, that’s fine, but you could have at least given me a heads up about the balloons and heart shaped pancakes that they would be expecting!”
“Shit…” She heard Harry sigh from the other end of the phone, “I’m sorry, Gem.”
“I’m just telling you, better hope that baby comes out covered in hearts if you are planning on coming home without balloons.”
“Erm, well, she definitely isn’t covered in hearts…”
It took Gemma a few moments to comprehend what he was saying, before she gasped, “Wait, she’s out? And it’s a girl?”
“Yup, Brinley Claire was born at 2:07 this morning.”
“And you didn’t think to inform me?!” Harry’s older sister yelled, but she was much too excited to actually be mad at him.
“Listen, Gem. I have to help Mel with the baby, but I’ll come over in a little bit with some stuff for the others, kay?”
“Okay, see you soon, tell Melody I say hi.”
“Will do, bye Gem.”
“Bye.” The phone call ended.
“Okay! Who wants pancakes?” Gemma yelled happily as she entered the kitchen again, making the two kids smile and shout in excitingly.
*******
It wasn't a super long time after Gemma and the kids ate breakfast that Lila woke up, still groggy and tired. She still seemed a little offset from last night, but her attitude seemed to be getting better.
All three children were beginning to become antsy by the time lunch came around, wondering if their parents were going to be coming home soon, and it only made it more difficult that Gemma knew just as little as the kids did.
“Auntie Gem, is daddy coming home soon?” Kennedy asked, clinging to her leg.
Her aunt softly stroked her hair “I'm sure he'll be here soon, angel.”
And she was right, because only a little over thirty minutes later, the creaking of the front door made everyone look towards the large entryway of the home.
“Dad!” Both Kennedy and Grant got up from where they were sitting on the carpeted floor in front of the T.v before they began rushing towards the front door. The scene honestly couldn’t have looked more like one out of a movie.
The odd part though, was the fact that Lila stayed put in her seat on the couch, a sour look on her face with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Hey guys!” Harry smiled as he set the balloons and pizza boxes down on the small table in the foyer as he held three small gift bags in his hand. He crouched down to their level, gripping his two eldest children to his chest, one in each arm. “Happy Valentine's Day!”
Kennedy was now smiling much bigger than she had been at breakfast time, “We thought you forgot!”
“About Valentines day?” Harry asked in an overly surprised tone, “Never.”
He handed the small gift bags to Grant and Kennedy, realizing there was another one left over, “Where’s your sister?” He asked.
They shrugged, “In the living room, I think.” Grant responded.
“Lila?” Harry’s voice echoed through the tall ceilings of the entryway, he didn’t get a response. “I’ll be right back, guys, and we can eat some pizza.”
When Harry entered the living room, he saw his youngest daughter sitting still on the couch, intently staring at the t.v.
“Lila, muffin, I’ve got a present for you.” He would have bet on the fact that him saying that would catch her attention, but she didn’t even so much as glance at her father.
Harry could only see the back of her head from where he stood from behind the couch, so he made his way around to the other side, seeing her blank face.
“Hi, Lila.” He approached slowly, crouching in front of the couch where she sat.
There were tears welling in her poor little eyes.
He couldn’t help himself from standing and sitting next to her on the couch before picking her up and placing her on his lap. At first she squirmed, trying to get out of her father’s grasp, but after a few moments, she gave up on doing that.
She laid her head on his chest, her own chest heaving with her heavy breaths as tears began to fall silently down her cheeks.
“Honey,” Harry looked down at his daughter, stroking her soft hair lightly, “tell me what’s wrong.”
Her glossy eyes met his, “You left me…” She whispered quietly before burying her head into her father’s shoulder.
“Lila, me and mummy left to go to the hospital so mummy could have the baby, remember?”
“Where is t-the baby?” She asked through her chokes.
“She’s at the hospital with mummy right now, her name is Brinley, she’s going to be moving in with us soon.” Harry was trying to act as calm as possible with how fragile his daughter was, but his heart was truly breaking.
“Nooo” Lila dragged out, pulling her head back to look at her father in denial through more tears.
“Lila, you are going to love your sister, she’s very little, and you can talk to her, and hold her, she might even hold your finger if you want her too. I’ve met her baby, she’s very sweet.”
“Have you told her about me?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I’ve told her about you!” Harry laughs as he sees the smallest smile begin to form on Lila’s face. “And just between you and me, I think she’s really excited to meet you.” He then whispers.
“Okay, daddy.” Lila giggled lightly, finally Harry thought.
“Okay?” He confirms.
“Okay.” She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut as she lays her head on his shoulder.
“How about we go eat some pizza with G and Kenn, how does that sound?” He asks into her hair, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.
“Is it heart shaped, daddy?”
Harry only laughs, standing from the couch with Lila still in his arms.
“Yes, it’s heart shaped, angel.”
#styles fam series#harry styles#harry styles blog#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles x ofc#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#solo harry#harry styles masterlist
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A fic from Boba’s POV as a babysitter seeing Din’s family dynamics isn’t self indulgent it’s indulgent to your readers - fuck, that sounds like the best, most hilarious thing ever?!? (With peppered in bits of Boba’s identity crisis/diaspora feels)
I say you release babysitter boba fic ;) It sounds hilarious
Ask and you shall receive, anons. Beware. It’s like 11k of world building lol.
(I will post here and not on Ao3 because I’m not ready for that level of commitment rn lol)
Title: in the plains of Zeffo
Summary:
“I don’t like him,” Karren told Din.
“Concurred,” Din said.
“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.
“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.
“Din,” Karren whined.
“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.
(Din’s original finder’s old crush on the Armorer is rekindled after he helps her reunite with Din. He tries to win her favor, but keeps getting tripped up by Din who knows she’s not interested. Boba Fett’s POV.)
---------------------------------------------------------------------
There was little more entertaining than watching Djarin snap.
Boba ten years ago would have spat at the very idea that such meagre fare would suit his humor, but he was getting old, man. You had to take what you could get, and Djarin’s bared rage was a sight to behold.
Currently, he was locked in combat with Urro Bojzka. The Urro Bojzka. The one who even Boba had heard of, growing up on Kamino.
Dad had had some pointed feelings about Mr. Bojzka. Mainly, they revolved around how it was unfair that everyone called him an opportunistic traitor when Bojzka continued to exist and thrive in the universe at large, but Dad also had more specific feelings about Bojzka that bordered on jealousy.
Urro Bojzka was said to be the ideal Mandalorian man.
He was big. He was strong. He sounded like he’d smoked six different kinds of spice for forty years, and nothing and no one could take him down.
The cherry on top was that he was notorious for rescuing kids. The man had snatched nearly two hundred up out of smoking ruins and battlefields. A good twenty or thirty had become foundlings and then Mandalorians themselves, and counted among their number now, to Bo-Katan’s absolute glee, was their sweet, precious Din Djarin.
They should have known. Din was the epitome of Mandalorian; it figured that Urro Bojzka himself would have picked him up as a child.
Din however, had little appreciation for this fact beyond that which was only polite. He made it very clear that he’d already thanked Bojzka for taking him out of his childhood hellhole. He’d done that bare minimum and so no one could ask anything more of him.
Bojzka had other plans.
It turned out that Urro Bojzka had a thing for Din’s covert’s Armorer. God, did he have a thing. And not only did he have a thing, but he’d had it for decades.
Apparently, a thousand years ago, when Boba and Din and all the others around them had still been rolling around on dirt floors trying to eat beetles and shit, Bojzka had attempted to court Din’s Armorer. He’d gone as far and wide as a young Mando could. He’d tried flowers, perfume, credits, displays of strength and courage. He’d tried gifts of food and offers of travel. He’d even stooped so low as to read a book.
None of it had gone well for him. And that was probably because Din’s Armorer had recently proven herself to be no less than one of the heiresses of the Katzkai clan.
The Renda Bears. Those people were hard-fucking-core.
When Bo-Katan found out that Din’s ‘Goran’ was, in fact, Nomri Katzkai, the second daughter of Lanlee Katzai and the official apprentice of Fii Katzkai, the imperial Armorer himself, she threw up her hands and declared all endeavors hopeless now.
Din was one of them; he just didn’t know it. And his buir, who had removed herself from her family to be even more hardcore than anyone would have thought possible, didn’t seem overly excited to start explaining shit to him anytime soon.
So here they were. With Din about to kill one of the most famous war heroes in recent Mandalorian history over a crush that wouldn’t quit.
Bojzka smiled at him with dark eyes with scars through both of his eyebrows.
“Just a message,” he lobbied. “One letter.”
Boba would’ve fucked him. Yeah, why not? Just look at him.
“She’s busy,” Din said. “You’ll have to submit it to Eegang Quodo. That’s E-e-g-a—”
“Yeah, see. Here’s the thing, kid. This letter’s gonna be kinda personal, if you catch my drift—”
“Q-u-o—”
“—probably not great for the eyes of anyone who ain’t, you know, in on this whole relationship—”
“—d-o. He’s usually busy, too. So you probably should submit it to Paz, instead. He’ll lose it for you forever. That’s P-a-z—”
Fennec hid a razor-sharp grin behind a clenched fist. She flashed it at Boba.
‘I love him’ she mouthed, pointing at Din’s hiked-up shoulders. Even his cape seemed to have gone stiff in Bojzka’s presence.
“Din, honey. Listen to me,” Bojzka crooned. “I know you’re protective of your mama, but—”
“She’s not my mother. Don’t you fucking dare call her that, you hulking piece of—”
“Ah-ah-ah. You’re not listening. Come on. Chin up. Ears open.”
Bojzka tapped at the bottom of Din’s helmet like a CO with a teenage recruit, and Fennec just about screamed when Din went completely still and silent.
Bo-Katan met Boba’s gaze out of the corner of her eye. She mimed a syringe. Boba shook his head. If this fucker got bit, he deserved whatever infection it brought.
“Atta boy,” Bojzka said to Din’s rigid silence. “Here’s how it is: your mama and me go way, way back. And you know, after your touching reunion the other week, she even went and had a drink with me, and we got to talkin’ and started to reconnect, the old folks do. And I could read her body language, Din-Din. She wants a man. And that man’s me. So instead of actin’ like a child over all this, why don’t we—”
“She wanted Naseem,” Din snapped. “But Naseem died. Twenty years ago, he died. You just wear similar boots.”
Get ‘im, Djarin. Get ‘im.
“I—who?” Bojzka snapped.
“Naseem,” Din repeated like he was an idiot. “Traditional, bantha-sized, green armor. He worked all the time to keep all the kids in the covert fed.”
Bojzka processed this.
“Naseem what?” he asked stiffly.
“He’s dead,” Din said. “And Hajka left. So no. Goran needs neither a man or a woman, and especially not you. What she needs is a break and for Karren to stop fighting people on sight.”
Bojzka backtracked like a champ.
“Karren, that’s her youngest, right?” he asked. “Well, I bet Karren could use some sisters. I bet he’s lonely over there on, uh.”
“Zeffo,” Din gritted out. “And no. He’s not. He has three sisters. One of which is still at the covert, terrorizing him left and right.”
Even Bo-Katan could only empathize so much with Bojzka, war hero or nah.
“Why’re you all up in arms, Din? What’d I do to you?” Bojzka finally asked. “Don’t you want your buir to be happy?”
Din’s shoulders finally came down from his helmet.
“Of course, I do,” he said. “Which is why if you set so much as a toe on Zeffo, I’m taking both of your knees with me to Yavin.”
--
Any parent would have been proud to have Din as their child. He took family honor to a level that even the Katzkai clan would have had a hard time sniffing at.
He had to have learned this from the wayward heiress. Although, if Boba was honest, he didn’t really think that the wayward heiress was all that wayward.
She’d come to visit Din on Tatooine. She was short and stocky and not terribly interested in the court or anyone outside of Din.
She wasn’t nearly as hostile as Bo-Katan expected either. She didn’t appear to love anything that she was looking at, no, but Din had explained that that was mostly because she wasn’t really a fan of him having become Mand’alor to start with.
When she came to visit, anyways, she was far more interested in getting a good fuss in to give herself peace of mind that Din was okay. That way she could then go back to dealing with the apparently endless series of crises at the new covert.
She was a great parent in that way. She even brought along her youngest, so that he could see his big brother.
That kid was fuckin’ adorable. Maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Barely, barely, barely in armor. He was strapped into his leathers so tight, he looked like he was stuffed with straw.
He had medium-brown skin with yellow undertones and huge, nearly-black eyes. Coarse black hair poured into his face and curled around his ears—and if he thought he was going to stuff all that in a helmet one day, he had another thing coming.
He bopped after his buir when they entered the palace and stopped occasionally to stare up in awe at the palace’s high ceilings. Upon realizing that he’d lost his escort, he scampered along to catch up and did the whole thing again and again until buir had enough and snatched his hand.
He didn’t like that. He was fourteen-fifteen years old. He was too big for hand-holding, buir.
Never too old to be ignored, though.
“Goraaaaaan.”
“Hush,” the Armorer told him. “Keep up.”
He was handed off to Boba outside Din’s personal quarters, mostly because he was making such a fuss at the Armorer that she began contemplating leaving him at the palace forever. Din intervened and the kid latched onto him instead until Din convinced him that he’d be available talk just as soon as he and their buir were done speaking.
The kid’s name was Karren.
He and Boba were now best friends.
“—so Goran said, ‘I’m not having that idiot in my rooms.’ But then Eegang said, ‘we already have Paz in these rooms,’ and you’re not supposed to laugh, Mr. Fett, but we all did because we’re all stupid. So we had to do like, a thousand chores for eavesdropping.”
“So she’s not into him, then?” Fennec clarified. “He’s really into her, you know.”
“Of course, I know,” Karren lamented. “But Goran’s picky and the last person she was all close with was Hajka and we’re not allowed to talk about her anymore or Din’ll make you do two hundred push-ups while he watches.”
Amazing. Say more about Din’s oldest-child syndrome, little one.
“No, I like Din,” Karren sighed. “Now that Digo’s gone, he’s even nicer.”
Oh?
“What happened to Digo?” Boba asked as Bo-Katan joined them in curiosity.
“Digo’s a jerk is what happened,” Karren huffed. “She wanted Goran to give over the forge and join the elders, but Goran isn’t even that old. So when she said ‘no,’ Digo got mad and said that the only foundling Goran respects is Din. Which is bullshit because everyone knows that Goran has always been the nicest with Digo and Nasif—she made all sorts of excuses for them, Mr. Fett, like when they went out and got caught stealing parts like Jawas, she did four whole hunts to raise their bail. When Din gets in trouble, he takes care of it himself. He doesn’t ask Goran to do that kind of thing. And me and Shimmol just don’t get in that kind of trouble to start with—but no. Digo had to be all ‘if you don’t treat us as equals, then we’re gonna leave and start our own forge.’”
“No kidding,” Fennec said. “So they left?”
“Yeah, both of them ‘cause Nasif does anything Digo tells her to,” Karren said, kicking his feet. “And good riddance.”
Too many sisters, this one had. Boba felt for him.
“So Goran’s still recovering from that betrayal, I take it?” he asked.
Karren frowned and chewed a lip.
“I dunno,” he admitted. “No one tells me anything. I think that Goran’s been more worried about Din than them after all that happened. We thought he got crunched by the jedi—or at least I thought he got crunched. Paz says that Jedis compact Mandalorians into cubes of armor and Din’s got the best armor.”
Do not laugh at the child. Do not laugh at the child.
“I don’t think Jedis crunch Mandalorians,” Bo-Katan said generously, having snuck into the bare antechamber while everyone was distracted with the kid’s story.
“Well, I do,” Karren countered, with zero conception of who he was talking to.
Fennec beamed.
“Do you like this Urro guy?” she asked.
“No,” Karren answered immediately. “He’s sent Eegang four messages and they’re all gross.”
Yep.
It was gonna be a late puberty for this one.
“What makes them gross?” Bo-Katan asked.
“The mush,” Karren said expertly. “Bojzka calls Goran ‘Nomri.’ That’s a bad word at home. No one says that word. Goran is ‘Goran.’ The only people who call her anything else are the elders.”
“And you and your siblings, no?” Bo-Katan asked.
Karran cocked his head at her.
“Yeah, and ‘buir’ I guess, if we aren’t in trouble,” he said.
Bless him.
“Are you in trouble a lot?” Bo-Katan asked.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I dunno. I got a temper or something.”
“Is Din in trouble?”
“With buir? No, not like me and Shimmol. He’s too old to be in that kind of trouble. His trouble’s like ‘help, I fell a hundred feet off a cliff’ kind of trouble. He gives Goran indigestion, but she can’t make him reflect on falling a million feet out of a ship—Eegang says that’s called ‘rehashing trauma.’”
The covert on Zeffo sounded like it was holding itself together through sheer force of will and that alone.
Where did Boba sign up? It sounded like a fantastic experiment to pass the time.
“Are you a foundling, Karren?” Boba asked.
The kid lit up.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been with Goran for five years now. Six in a few months. My dad’s a piece of shit. He killed my mom, and Goran got him arrested for that and for what he did to my auntie.”
Well, fuck. That explained a lot.
“And you like it there—on Zeffo?” Bo-Katan asked.
Karren shrugged.
“It’s cold and wet,” he said. “I liked Nevarro better. Din was home more on Nevarro.”
Awww.
“Aren’t you proud of Din for becoming Mand’alor?” Bo-Katan asked as gently as she could manage.
Karren’s frown eased up finally.
“No,” he said. “Din should just come home. He doesn’t need to be Mand’alor or married to some jedi. He should just come home. It’s stupid; his foundling should have stayed with us from the start. We always have room for more foundlings. I dunno why he had to leave with his foundling at all.”
Bo-Katan sat back and sighed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “If it helps, I think he just wants to come home, too.”
“So let him,” Karren blurted out to her.
Tough tits, kid. That wasn’t how it worked.
“I think we should perhaps focus on one thing at a time,” Bo-Katan said. “What do you think, Fett?”
What did Boba think?
Boba thought that he had a great idea to distract this kid from missing his big brother.
---
Karren was perhaps a little too small still to reach the brakes in the crawler, but you know what? So was Fennec sometimes and she did just fine.
“Gas,” Boba said, pointing. “Neutral. Brake. Park.”
“Gas, neutral, brake, park,” Karren repeated to him with his hands on the wheel and his knobbly wrists peeking out from the gap between his gloves and his leather braces.
Bo-Katan had refused to be present or responsible for this. Fennec had told them to wait while she went and took a shot first. ‘For safety’ she said.
“What’s neutral for?”
“You’re about to tell me,” Boba said, adjusting the rear view mirrors down to kid-height.
The sound of Fennec throwing herself onto the back of the crawler rattled through to their compartment.
“That’s our signal,” Boba said. “You ready to jam?”
“Jam?” Karren asked him.
Hm.
Punch it?
“Punch what?”
The fuck kind of slang did they use at the covert?
“Rock?”
“OH. Yeah, I’m ready.”
There we go. Onward march then.
---
An hour later, Din sighed with Karren whining under his arm.
“There is a reason he’s not trained yet, Fett,” Din said as Karren started chomping on the bunched-up flightsuit in his elbow.
The Armorer pressed both palms into the forehead of her helmet.
The crawler had perhaps seen better days. But it had also seen worse days, and Fennec was still going through little loops of cackling at the memory of having to chase after its open tailgate. Boba didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. The kid had done amazingly well for his first time at the wheel.
“I’m leaving all of you,” Karren grated out, trying miserably to escape Din’s elbow-prison. “I want to be Mr. Fett’s foundling.”
Bless him.
“You don’t,” Din told him forcefully. “Fett can’t handle a foundling.”
Ay, Boba would drink to that. He was happy to be a foundling-sitter and borrower, though.
“Buir,” Karren pleaded.
“You make me tired, child,” the Armorer told him. “Say goodbye to vod.”
“NO.”
Din sighed. The Armorer sighed. Karren, in a beautiful 180, latched onto Din’s ribs again.
“Come hooooooome,” he pleaded with Din.
“I caaaaaaan’t,” Din drawled back at him in a delightfully uncharacteristic tone.
“These people don’t need you. We need you. Shimmol took your bed and if you don’t take it back, she’s gonna keep it.”
Din’s shoulders dropped.
“I told Shimmol that she could take my bunk, Karren,” he said. “I’m not using it—”
“BUT YOU COULD BE.”
Boba took it back. He could take on a foundling. Fuck it, why not? This one was great.
“Come here,” Din said, dragging the kid up to his toes. He knocked the front of his helmet against Karren’s forehead with enough force that the bump was noticeable. That made the kid shut up and stand up straight on his own volition again.
“Soon,” Din told him forcefully. “Behave for buir.”
“Promise,” Karren demanded.
“Ehn.”
“Din, promise.”
“I dunno, kid. I’ve got a husband and all these damn kids to worry about.”
“Bring them. All of them.”
“No room,” Din said without missing a beat. “You have no idea how much space the husband needs to thrive.”
“Well, if you don’t come, then Urro’s gonna try to move in,” Karren snapped.
Din actually paused at that. The Armorer shook her helmet.
“Territorialism becomes neither of you,” she said. “If Urro wishes to join our covert, then we will treat him as we treat any other who wishes to.”
Din’s helmet seemed to squint at her. Karren glared outright.
“I don’t like him,” he told Din.
“Concurred,” Din said.
“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.
“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.
“Din,” Karren whined.
“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.
“Carry on with your work and give my best to the jedi and the child,” the Armorer said with an air of dismissal. “Come, Karren. Thank you three for looking after him. Apologies for the vehicle. Come.”
Boba missed that kid already.
--------
Bojzka, Boba had to say, really had no shame and he could almost appreciate that. Either that, or Din’s buir was a catch that the rest of them were failing to appreciate.
“How bad can it be?” the guy mused at Din’s stiff, furious hands mere days after the Armorer and Karren’s departure. “It’s a helmet, right? You can take it off with the people who matter, no?”
“We do not take it off,” Din said from between clenched teeth.
“Right, I got that. But there are exceptions for kids and spouses,” Bojzka said. “Or did I misread that part?”
Din was going to start shaking at any minute now. Bo-Katan assigned Boba the task of making sure he didn’t commit War-hero-homicide while she went off to find a calming device. It was only polite. It wasn’t Bojzka’s fault after all that he’d come in right after a tense meeting with a dissident group from Mandalore itself that made even Bo-Katan’s jaw jump.
“I think the rule is more important than the exceptions here,” Boba pointed out on Din’s behalf. “Joining the Children of the Watch isn’t something to take lightly.”
Din pointed at him wordlessly. Bojzka lazily followed the finger and then pointedly ignored Boba.
“What I’m hearing is that if we marry first, nothing changes,” he said.
Din’s index finger curled in with the rest of his knuckles until it was a fist.
“She is not looking to marry,” he said.
“What, so you speak for her now?”
“She is not looking to marry.”
“I can repeat things, too. Wanna see? You don’t speak for Nomri, Din.”
Boba was getting the feeling that Ms. Katzkai sort of did let Din speak for her in these types of situations. He was, after all, her oldest. And it sounded like he was the most loyal of her foundlings, too. If she shared anything personal with anyone besides her second in command, then it was going to be Din. That was just how these things worked.
“Did you call Eegang?” Din asked.
“I did,” Bojzka said. “He’s not especially helpful, I have to say. He keeps sending my missives back to me with grammar corrections.”
No. No. Keep it in, Boba. Keep it stoic.
“Eegang is the second CO at the covert,” Din said. “If you won’t take my word for it, then you’ll take his.”
Bojzka arched a fucked-up eyebrow.
“Eegang, the same guy who is allegedly secretly married to his partner? That Eegang?” he asked.
Din balked. Boba felt like electricity had just rocketed through him.
“Eegang is—” Din started.
“Nomri told me about him,” Bojzka said off-handedly. “She seems to think that he’s bitten off more than he can chew with taking on his last kid.”
“Eegang—”
“Something about baby being blind? Funny, did you not think that she trusted me enough to talk about her people?”
Any more of this and steam would start rising from the lip of Din’s helmet.
Thankfully, Bo-Katan returned with the jedi, AKA the calming device. Skywalker even came equipped with Grogu. They both appeared very confused and innocent, what with Skywalker drowning in his formal robes. They looked like they were going to absorb Grogu at any moment.
A+ distraction work, Kryze. Well done making yourself useful.
“Who’s Eegang?” Skywalker asked.
The line pulled taut across Din’s shoulders began to loosen.
“A comrade,” he said sharply in Bojzka’s direction.
“Is he nice?” Skywalker asked. Grogu chirped at him and resumed trying to dig into his multitude of collars.
“Very nice,” Din confirmed, staring deep into Bojzka’s eyes.
“He’s got foundlings, too?” Skywalker asked.
“Two,” Din confirmed. “Who he adores. Regardless of all challenges.”
Ah. It wasn’t just Eegang Din was protective of. It was the baby. Bojzka had really stuck his foot into that one.
“I’m sure the foundlings are fine,” Bojzka said. “It was just Nomri’s concern that—”
“Stop calling her that in my presence,” Din said. “In fact, let’s drop the whole thing now.”
--------
Boba wanted to meet secretly-married Eegang. He sounded like he had a rich interior life. Din gave him a strong look and said that if the Armorer had left the covert, Eegang would not. One of them had to be there at all times.
Bo-Katan asked what Eegang’s speciality was.
Surprise, surprise: it was diplomacy.
Kryze was now invested. She followed Din around on his heels and suggested that if the Armorer gave words to Eegang to deliver during a formal meeting with the Mand’alor, then Bojzka might finally get the picture that Katzkai wasn’t interested in him.
Din thought about that.
He asked if this was not just a ploy for Boba and Bo-Katan to rally his covert comrades against him.
And it honestly wasn’t until he phrased it like that.
-----------
Eegang was tall, sea-green, and in Bojzka’s face without so much as a by-your-leave.
“Three tests,” he threatened Bojzka with a baby on his hip. “One: stop sending transmissions. Two: get Elder Fayrz to approve your presence. Three: make even one of Goran’s foundlings like you. If you pass all three, your admission will be taken into consideration.”
The baby was very pink with curly hair so pale it was almost white. Its blue-gray eyes moved rapidly back and forth as it cuddled into its buir’s teal armor. Bojzka glanced from it to Eegang’s chipped helmet.
“Where did you find him?” he asked.
“Please give confirmation of your understanding,” Eegang said mechanically.
“He’s kinda cute.”
“Please give confirmation of your understanding.”
“Are you a droid or somethin’?”
“Please give—”
“Alright, alright. Fuck. This is confirmation of my understanding.”
“Excellent. This conversation is over,” Eegang said. “It is your responsibility to contact the elder and earn the approval.”
Bojzka jerked.
“Wait, what?” he said. “How am I supposed to do that if y’all won’t even let me through the door?”
Eegang’s helmet tipped so daintily to the side that Boba could have shed a tear.
“That sounds like a you-problem,” Eegang said.
-----------
Eegang thereafter blocked Bojzka out of his mind and heart. He introduced himself with a dipping motion to Kryze and Boba that probably would have been more dramatic if he’d opted to wear a cape, which he did not. He revealed himself to be exceedingly polite and very fond of Din, though—if the gentle armor tapping and the use of the word ‘little brother’ was anything to go by. Din was usually receptive to gestures like that, Boba had learned, but not this time.
No, no. Din cared not for his ‘big brother.’ He cared only for the attention of Eegang’s baby.
“His name is Mesa,” Eegang explained after Din had kidnapped said baby. He introduced Mesa to Grogu who was stationed nearby, stuffed in the sleepy jedi’s shirt this time. . Grogu waved from Skywalker’s chest, but Mesa didn’t register the motion.
“His grandmother was quite ill, and it was her dying wish to see the child placed into the care of someone trustworthy. I have to admit, though, I may have made the decision a little rashly,” Eegang hummed as he watched Grogu lean as far as he could out of Skywalker’s clothing to try to make contact with his fellow foundling.
“Is he your first?” Bo-Katan asked.
Eegang winced.
“No, uh. I’ve got another,” he said. “She’s a huge fan of certain someones.”
“Me,” Din said without hesitation.
“And Paz,” Eegang said. “Which is a deadly combination.”
“She will be a mighty warrior,” Din informed Mesa and Skywalker. Skywalker twitched awake and didn’t understand anything that was happening. He noticed the baby, cooed, and waved with his gloved hand.
“She’s declared this one goat her nemesis and I cannot—I cannot—get her to just leave it alone,” Eegang said.
“A goat clan in the making,” Din said with approval.
“I’m hearing unnecessary commentary,” Eegang said without looking at him. “Please rephrase or shut up.”
Din seemed to gloat at the scolding. Skywalker glanced between him and his tall, teal comrade. He made his move and carefully came in to extract baby Mesa from Din’s arms to add him to his ever-growing collection. Grogu cooed again, closer now. He offered Mesa a hand, and this time, Mesa perked up and tried to grab at it clumsily.
“You manage the covert in the Armorer’s absence?” Bo-Katan asked Eegang. “You must be very dedicated to the Children of the Watch.”
“Define ‘manage’ and then ‘dedicated,’” Eegang said. “I prefer ‘accidentally charged with responsibility one too many times’ and ‘in too deep to turn back now.’”
“He’s being humble,” Din said. “Eegang has brokered peace between our covert and locals on numerous occasions.”
Eegang’s shoulders started to raise.
“Stop telling people that, they’re going to expect things from me,” he said, then popped back up like flipped switch. “Oh, I totally forgot why I even came. Jedi?”
Skywalker looked up from the conference of baby talk happening in his arms all wide-eyed, as though he’d been caught in the act of stealing imperial property.
“We did not welcome you into our covert,” Eegang said, “You must allow us to present you with a gift of welcome and entry.”
Oho. Very formal. Boba folded his arms and watched Skywalker for his reaction.
“A what?” Skywalker asked.
-------
Bojzka was somewhat justifiably upset at the double standard going on here.
Skywalker was a jedi and yet welcomed into the covert with open arms and no admission requirements. He was, in fact, measured against his will for a set of armor. This was what Din’s buir had actually been after when she’d sent Eegang along to say hi.
Boba found that he enjoyed the reciprocation of ulterior motives that they were getting from Din’s covert. Kryze had never been happier. This was a game that she knew how to play.
“Wait no, hold up,” Bojzka interrupted. “I deserve a chance. Din, at least give me the name of one of your siblings so I can track them down with the elder.”
Din didn’t want to; there were foundlings happening and another meeting soon, but eventually even he had to give the guy something.
An honorable battle required at least two willing bodies.
-----------
Din and Karren’s remaining sibling at the covert’s name was Shimmol. According to Din, Bojzka had next to no chance of gaining her favor because she did not leave the forge and therefore Bojzka had no access to her. Eegang corrected Din and said that Shimmol did, in fact, leave the forge, but never on her own volition.
She was preferred the dark. She hated social interaction.
To circumvent that, the Armorer had refused to induct her into the trade until she proved herself able to coexist with others. But Shimmol was eighteen, that fun age where no incentive or punishment was effective and digging your heels in was far more preferable to doing a damn thing your elders mentioned.
She’s announced that very weekend that she was officially becoming a recluse. Her present aspiration in life was apparently now to become a forge spider.
Bojzka, along with everyone else, had no idea how to receive this information. Kyrze took it upon herself to pat Bojzka on the shoulder and tell him to start with the elder. He might actually have some luck that way.
-------
It took two weeks for Bojzka to re-emerge from whatever hellhole he’d had to walk a tightrope across to locate the covert’s elder Fayrz. He climbed in through Din’s personal quarters’ window and interrupted him and the Jedi in a moment of infrequent intimacy.
The sound of a body being throw over a bannister had a special kind of thud to it. Boba was up on out of his quarters in an instant.
Din flung Bojzka’s helmet after him. Skywalker had the grace to cover Djarin’s face with his shirt and walk him back into the room before anyone caught sight of it, telling Boba and Fennec, who had also emerged from her bed, prepared for drama, that all was fine. There was just a misunderstanding.
His bare torso was covered in scars. Boba found himself somehow surprised and impressed as the jedi unsuccessfully wrangled his furious husband back in the direction of bed.
He and Fennec peeked over the banister to see what had become of Bojzka. He was fine.
Fennec informed Boba that she was claiming part of his bed ‘in case anything else good happened’ since he was closer.
-----
In the morning, Din was in marginally better spirits. Skywalker was to be found at his side, walking backwards and tripping over his cloak every four paces. He truly knew how to hit all Din’s ‘endeared’ buttons. If not to the earnestness and the near-miss of a disaster on the stairs, it would have looked like manipulation.
Bojzka attempted to rectify the peace by breaking into the court through one of the windows high up on the wall outside the second floor’s conference room. This time, to ensure that he had Din’s full attention, he removed the jedi from the equation. Or he tried to anyways.
The jedi, in a split second, decided that, all joking aside, today, he would not be moved. His green saber managed to glow even in the sunlight pouring in to the hall.
“Do not touch,” he ordered, with both feet planted and Din and Grogu securely at his back.
Bojzka cocked his head at the saber pointed right at his nose.
“That’s a fun trick,” he said.
“Do not touch,” Skywalker repeated. “Me, him, or the child.”
“I’ll think about it,” Bojzka said. “Stand down before you regret it.”
“Luke,” Din said testily. “He’s not worth it.”
“Make me regret it,” Skywalker said to Bojzka.
Bojzka’s eyes widened slightly in interest. He used the back of his wrist to try to nudge the saber’s tip away and snapped his hand away from the burn.
“Do you expect me to be afraid of you, jedi?” he asked, trying to play it off.
Skywalker’s eyes reflected the light of his saber.
“Ask him what the glove’s for,” Fennec called from the far hall. Bojzka scoffed. Skywalker didn’t move.
“What happened to your hand?” Bojzka asked.
“My father cut it off,” Skywalker said. “But not to worry, I got a new one. Now step back. Sir.”
Bojzka didn’t move for a long time.
“Does it feel good to walk in the presence of these people?” he asked. “Is it a kink for you the way it was for your master?”
Boba had officially lost the plot. These were old politics now. Kryze would know what Bojzka was talking about, if only she deigned to come out from wherever she was hiding, which she wouldn’t. Of course.
“Does it offend you? My presence here?” Skywalker asked back without emotion.
“It doesn’t,” Bojzka said.
“I’m glad. That’s very convenient for me. I’d feel terrible if you bled out on these tiles,” Skywalker said. “So move.”
And goddamn. The mountain finally yielded to the sky.
-------
Skywalker spent the rest of the day on high alert, with one hand on the hilt of his saber and his full concentration tied up with making fierce eyes into the palace’s corners to keep Bojzka at bay. It was really something to see. Din looked about ready to lay his fingers on his heart and swoon, and that was more than fair. If Boba’s spouse threatened to kill a man for looking at him wrong, he’d be touched too.
Fennec told Boba that she’d protect him from a man the size of a bantha but no larger, and it just didn’t have the same kind of ring.
She apologized and he told her it was fine. It was just in the delivery--and also, he’d murder anyone so blinked at her wrong, too.
She was pleased. Boba was glad they were on the same page.
“Let’s go find Kryze to negotiate,” Fennec said, “I need to know why Old Faithful’s back.”
--------
Kryze’s commanding voice wrang out of Bojzka the real reason for his presence. The truth of the matter was that, War Hero aside, he was having a hell of a time getting the covert elder to grant him a second look.
Din told him that that was the point. Elder Fayrz was like that all day, every day and he’d change for no body, spiritual or physical. He bothered people when he wanted to bother them, and the rest of the time, he liked to pretend he was senile. He only really ever showed up if someone was buying a round or their life was in the balance.
Skywalker said that he sounded a lot like his late master.
Din agreed and said that Elder Fayrz had dedicated his life to two things: the covert children and fungi. Somehow, he made those two interests overlap. Din recalled being twelve and being taken out on a ‘mission’ by the old man who had informed him that he required his nose.
Elder Fayrz had no sense of smell. For a man with a fungi interest, he called this ‘very dangerous business indeed.’
Kryze demanded to know if all the weirdest Mandalorian elders still living had congregated at Din’s cohort which he quickly confirmed. Bojzka, however, demanded to know what would make this elder look him in the eye.
Din told him to go find a deathbed and lay on it.
He remembered belatedly to add ‘nearby Elder Fayrz’ to that statement.
----------
After about a month of this kind of back and forth, the Armorer decided that she’d had enough. She did not come to the Dune Sea. She sent a missive to Din informing him that he was coming home.
‘To talk,’ she said.
Boba vaguely remembered Karren saying something along the lines of ‘Din doesn’t get into trouble anymore,’ and was pleased to find that that was not the case. Din already knew what awaited him at his home covert and anyone with slightly more than a rock for a brain could see that it wasn’t going to be hugs and kisses.
Bojzka volunteered to accompany Din as a guard when the jedi made himself conveniently unavailable. Kryze and Boba flipped a coin while Din resisted stabbing him, and of course Boba won. Kryze flipped it again to be sure, and Boba told her sweetly that he’d send her a postcard.
“Have fun with the schmucks lounging around this place,” he gloated at Bo-Katan’s rolling shoulders.
She gave him two naughty fingers.
Whatever, girl. Sucks to suck. Bye, bye, now. Come on, Fennec. There’s adventure to be had.
---------
It was a ways to the new covert on Zeffo. Several hours, in fact, many of which were spent playing ‘I spy’ with Fennec while Bojzka gritted his teeth and asked them if they were always like this.
Fennec got Din to join in at that comment.
Eventually they ran out of white dwarfs and capes to identify and settled down into silence until the ship declared landing to be imminent.
Karren remembered Boba and the second he set foot inside the curiously constructed covert entrance. The kid came hurtling up to tackle him and wrap arms around his middle. It was endearing. Boba checked the doors to see if a guard would notice a kidnapping.
Fennec reminded him of child-based expenses. Her wisdom was invaluable as usual.
Karren scrambled away from Boba and, for a moment, made like he was going to attach himself to Din’s armor, but instead wriggled past Din to go tearing down the hallway. He skidded, crashed, and then clambered into a different room at the dead end of what appeared to be a row of barracks. Seconds later, Eegang exploded from one of the rooms adjacent wearing no armor but his helmet. He flung himself through the same doorway Karren had vanished through.
Din tilted his head.
“It’s fine,” a voice said behind them.
Their small party turned to see a woman wearing a cool purple helmet with only her flakvest on. Eegang’s pale baby was sat on her hip, pawing at her chest, trying to find purchase in the vest.
“Sotra,” Din greeted.
“Welcome back, brat-child,” Sotra said. “We missed you.”
This had to be Eegang’s secret-wife; unless she’d stolen that gurgling foundling in the night or something.
“Electrical?” Din asked, pointing at the far room.
“Loft,” Sotra said. “There’s hay, so of course all the kids have to be in it.”
“Just hay?” Din asked.
“And goats,” Sotra said.
Ah.
“We raise goats now?” Din asked.
“Oh, no, no,” Sotra said, sashaying past him towards the room her husband had abandoned, “It’s either coexistence or war, I’m afraid. The forge is past the hangar, keep going through the kitchens. Voxie knows you’re here—he’s awake, by the way. Welcome home, Din.”
“Thanks,” Din said. “This is my advisor, Boba Fett and our friend Fennec.”
Sotra splayed her whole, tall body into the doorway of her and Eegang’s barracks just as a fearsome battle cry sounded out on the other side.
“Hi,” she said.
“RELEASE ME,” a child in front of her about hip-height with serious bedhead shrieked in Mando’a.
Fennec’s eyebrows launched up to her forehead. Boba felt like he needed to record this so that Kryze understood what she was missing.
“Vod Din is home,” Sotra told the child.
“DIN.”
“Shhhh.”
“RELEASE M—mmf.”
“Shhhhh. It’s quiet time,” Sotra said with her free hand over the child’s mouth. “We’re being quiet.”
Din chuckled.
“Hey, Samo,” he said.
Samo let loose an ear-piercing scream behind her buir’s hand and ducked under Sotra’s legs. She ran at Din like there was a bomb behind her. Din caught her and swung her up to perch on his arm and she kicked relentless at his tassets in excitement.
“Shhh,” Din said. “People are sleeping—”
“YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE—”
Doors started opening all down the line of barracks. A few curious, hazy, and lopsided helmets poked out from some of them, and from others, calls of ‘EYYYYYYY’ and chats ‘ALL HAIL THE MAND’ALOR’ started up, to Din’s immediate mortification.
This, Boba was delighted to realize, was not a cry of honor.
These half-asleep fuckers had been waiting months to embarrass Din. And he’d known that this would happen.
“Be quiet,” Din snapped all around him. “The elders are sleeping, you’re going to—”
“Well, well, well, look who’s finally home,” a taunting voice rang out on top of the rush. “If it isn’t the Mand’alor himself.”
“Paz,” Din sighed. “Not now.”
“When could there possibly be a better time, your liege?” a huge Mandalorian wearing full blue armor despite the early hour drawled from the doorway he’d attempted to casually lean in. Samo’s braids flew as her round cheeks snapped his way.
“Paz, don’t be mean,” she told him from atop Din’s arm. “Or it’ll be to the goats with ya.”
“Fuck me, the goats, what ever will I do?” Paz scoffed.
“BUIR, PAZ SAID A BAD WORD.”
“I heard him,” Sotra said scathingly, right at Paz’s visor.
“To the goats,” Paz’s neighbor hissed at him.
The hissing was taken up just as quickly as the earlier ‘all hails’ had been. Paz told everyone to shut up and mind their own asses. He was publicly booed until Eegang emerged from the loft room with Karren stuffed under an arm and demanded to know why people were congregating in the halls. He reminded everyone that that shit was a fire hazard, and in doing so, his tone changed completely from easy-going to Commanding Officer and the effect was immediate.
People scurried back into their rooms like frightened mice until there wasn’t a single open door left in the whole line.
Eegang huffed and traded Karren to Din for his daughter. Samo happily climbed onto his shoulders and held onto his chin. Karren grinned mischievously up at her, winked, and then thumbed back to the goat loft.
“Not the welcome you deserved, but the one you got. I’m afraid nothing has changed here,” Eegang told Din compassionately, wrapping his fingers around Samo’s ankles. “I see you brought friends.”
“And foe,” Din said, gesturing at Bojzka who beamed.
Eegang’s visor contained a grimace that would otherwise have wracked his whole body.
“You got in,” he deadpanned.
“Sure did,” Bojzka said. “Lovely place you have here.”
And honestly? Yeah. It sort of was. Maybe a little ramshackle, what with all the scaffolding and haphazard support beams thrown into the walls to keep the wet earth above ground from crushing everyone below it, but for all the unsteadiness, it was oozing with comradery. Family.
Behind each of those doors was a little unit like Eegang and Sotra’s or perhaps a tired body, barely extracted from its boots, taking comfort in this honeycomb of tunnels and rooms.
Boba couldn’t help but wonder how he and Dad would have done in a place like this.
“We try,” Eegang said flatly. “I’ll let the Armorer deal with you herself—if she’s awake, I mean. Otherwise, you’re condemned to Shimmol. I’m going back to sleep. Vok is waiting for you, keep going straight through the kitchens, Din.”
“Thank you,” Din said. “Sleep well, Vod.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come on, Monster. No goats for now.”
Samo waved at Boba and Fennec with a smile as bright as the sun. She ducked expertly as Eegang passed through the doorway to their quarters. He closed the door behind them.
------
“You don’t see families like that much anymore,” Bojzka hummed as Din led their troop down the hallways, through a series of ladders into a kitchen and then from there into a surprisingly neat, up-to-date hangar with concrete floorings. Six crafts were parked inside, tucked into the tight space like fish in a barrel.
“We have a few,” Din said. “I don’t know how many people are living here now, though.”
Given the size of the place? Maybe fifty or so, if Boba had to take a guess. There had been several sets of boots lining the wall outside the barrack doors.
Din picked his way through the crafts to two tarps covered in piles of spare, rusting, and grease-covered parts. At the end of the aisle between the tarps was a rectangle bordered by wooden benches and to the left of that was a little box that a mechanic presumably operated from. The box, however, had no windows. Its door was slightly ajar.
Din knocked and a snort and a slurp answered him.
“Jus’ a mo,” a thick voice said inside.
Fennec looked at Boba with intrigue.
“Tool gnome,” she said.
No, friend. Just a grease-monkey.
“Tool gnome,” Fennec insisted.
The door opened and a man at least six feet, two inches peered out of it.
“Tool giant,” Fennec amended in a whisper.
“Is that you, Din?” the mechanic asked. His helmet was rusty red and gray. Its visor had a yellow tint to it.
“It is,” Din said. “It’s been a while, Vok. These are my—”
“Forget them. Goran told me what you did to Razor.”
Din cringed.
“I—”
“AH. No. I don’t wanna hear it,” Vok said. “I just—I’m glad you’re safe, but you ain’t touching any more of my children, you hear me, boy?”
Din sunk into his shoulders in shame.
“I hear you,” he said.
“You’re damn right you do,” Vok said. “Man, I had a whole speech written out and shit, and here you are, early as the fuckin’ dawn. Did you miss Paz?”
“We did not,” Din said.
“I tried to have him do an inventory, I did,” Vok said sympathetically. “But he wasn’t havin’ it. Took an IOU and everything.”
Din sighed.
“Thanks for trying,” he said. “Is the forge...?”
“That way,” Vok said, gesturing to the far end of the hangar, where a series of scaffolding led up to a dark hole in the wall. “Mind your step. Stairs are next on my list. Who’re your friends?”
Din introduced them. Vok considered Fennec and after a moment of thought, saluted her. She tipped her jaw to the side and gave him a once-over.
“Din’s got my number if you’re not busy,” Vok said.
“I’ll take it under advisement,” Fennec said.
“I hope you do, my darlin’. You? Boj-whatever? I heard about you. You can go fuck yourself.”
“Thanks, Vok, we’re going now,” Din intervened.
----------
Fennec said nothing on the way up the scaffolding. She didn’t need to. Boba applauded her.
---------
The forge was the least finished part of the covert, and Boba could respect the Armorer’s dedication to looking after the flock before her own needs. Not that the forge wasn’t a comfortable place. Upon entry, Bojzka whistled at all the equipment inside. There were steel beams crossing in hatches along the ceiling. It appeared as though someone was working on a ventilation mechanism up there. Ropes and pipes hung down from the beams as though a pulley system had been recently removed.
The forge itself was a huge circular structure with a high wall around its exterior. It was built of a slick-looking black material. There were three water troughs set up in a line behind it and two rudimentary wood blocks with anvils set on them. Benches littered with iron tools sat next to the anvils.
Din appeared very at home in this place, despite not having even been in it. He wove around the accoutrements of the room towards a wooden door that had been placed on hinges on the far side like an afterthought.
He knocked.
“We don’ want any,” a sleepy woman’s voice drawled.
Boba jumped as a something brushed his elbow and discovered that Karren had followed them all the way down to the forge. His soft boots had hidden his footsteps, but, like Din, he was now in a place that he knew like the back of his hand. Din grabbed the scruff of his neck as he went for the door with both hands.
“You’re supposed to be in the nursery,” Din told him. “Shoo.”
“Shimmol, Din’s home,” Karren said through the door. “Goran, Din’s home.”
Very cute. Karren wanted to be the one to shared the news. Din pulled him back as shuffling started up on the other side of the wooden door.
It opened to reveal a fluorescent pink helmet with floral patterns painted down the edges in white.
“Din?” the young woman, who could only be Shimmol, asked.
Din’s brain stuttered.
“Uh?” he said.
Shimmol’s flightsuit was once white, but it was burned and smudged to gray all over. Her heavy gloves were half-burnt on both hands, too. She surged forward into Din’s chestplate. Din hugged her back awkwardly.
“Hello, sister,” he said. “This is, uh.”
“Do you like it?” Shimmol asked, pulling away from him to touch the edges of her helmet. “I thought it was cute. Wait til you see the pauldrons. They match.”
“They’re hideous,” Karren said.
“Did anyone ask you?” Shimmol flung at him. “No, I didn’t think so. Get gone, womp-rat.”
Wow. No wonder Karren was desperate for Din’s attention.
“I’m not a womp-rat,” Karren said. “I’m a Tooka. Goran said so.”
“You know, what you actually are is a ‘nuisance,’ so it doesn’t matter what—”
“Children.”
And lo and behold. The lady herself. Gold helmet and everything.
“Din,” the Armorer said, placing a hand on Shimmol’s side to move her. “Welcome home.”
Din accepted the helmet touch with grace.
“Bojzka,” the Armorer said next. “I didn’t expect to see you in my home so soon, or at all.”
Bojzka beamed.
“You’ve grown a beard,” the Armorer noted. “It does not become you.”
Boba coughed into his elbow to hide the bark of laughter screaming to escape his throat. Fennec thumped at his back.
“Let’s move somewhere with more light,” the Armorer said. “Karren, Shimmol. You’re dismissed for the next hour. Go eat breakfast.”
“But—” Shimmol started.
“Up, up, up,” Karren chanted, getting behind her and shoving hands into the small of her back. “It’s people-time.”
“Leave it. I hate people-time,” Shimmol said. “I thrive on darkness. It sustains me better than food.”
Din looked desperately into the Armorer’s helmet. The Armorer ignored him and told Shimmol that she knew this to false and to stop whining. Upstairs, now.
The kids relented and left the forge. Din pointed after them.
“I know,” the Armorer said. “Let her work through it.”
Din pointed even more insistently.
“No, no. It’s true,” Bojzka said. “Mine went through the same thing.”
--------
The Armorer sat them all down at a ‘u’ shape of benches on the far side of the forge. She turned on some overhead lights. They lit up the forge and threw its equipment’s shadows harshly against the floor.
“Thank you for coming,” she said lightly. “It takes a long time to get to Zeffo, even in the Outer Rim.”
“It suits you,” Bojzka flirted.
“It does not,” the Armorer countered unrepentantly. “And your flattery remains aggravating.”
Bojzka didn’t seem to process the meaning behind those words, too busy he was with basking in the Armorer’s presence. She ignored him to turn to Din.
“Eegang tells me that you have been aggressive towards Bojzka, ad’ika, is this true?”
Din hunkered down into his shoulders. He didn’t want to answer. The Armorer didn’t make him.
“This is unnecessary,” she said. “Bojzka does not bother me.”
Bojzka rounded a gloating grin at Din.
“He is delusional, but I’m afraid that head trauma does this over time,” the Armorer said lightly. “There is no need to defend my honor—I’ve already had this conversation with Eegang, so know that it is not only you who I’ve spoken to about this. And Bojzka.”
“Yes, dear?” Bojzka hummed.
“I would appreciate it if you ceased in antagonizing my foundling and second.”
“I’m not trying to, Nomri.”
“I know,” the Armorer said. “And that is where I believe this tension arises from. Din, you and your advisor may leave. I’ll handle this. In future, know that it is not your place to speak on these matters in my stead, yes?”
“Yes, Goran,” Din mumbled.
The Armorer waited.
“Buir,” Din corrected.
“Thank you. The last thing I need is the Mand’alor becoming invested in old-standing relationships. You may go.”
Din stood and Boba and Fennec stood with him.
“He is not Naseem,” Din said right at the doorway.
The Armorer’s helmet turned slowly his way.
“No one will ever be Naseem,” she said. “It’s okay. Go.”
-----------
Boba need the full story on this Naseem guy approximately yesterday, but all he had at his disposal in the kitchens where he, Din, and Fennec had been banished was a collection of foundlings all staring up at their party looking guilty as hell.
In the midst of their group was a ten-year-old holding a glass jug absolutely brimming with frogs.
Boba had never seen this many foundlings together at once before, and he had to say: these traditionalists knew exactly what they were doing. There was nothing quite like a whole mass of youths to shift the mood.
The kids made a break for it.
Fennec was the fastest of all of them, but even she was not as fast as the bodies that popped their heads out of the rattling back room and launched themselves without warning over the few rows of tables set out in the main space.
Din’s covert collectively looked after the little ones, he explained when one of these bodies returned with the wrist of a shrieking Twi’lek child in their grip. The shrieking cut off when the nurse dropped down into a crouch and flattened both of the child’s hands against their helmet so that they left splotchy prints behind.
Two of the folks who filed back into the room covered in mud did not wear helmets. Din didn’t recognize them until they spoke and said their names. They’d removed their helmets back on Nevarro, apparently, and they had not to put them back on. Now, they wore veils and headscarves—neither of them comfortable with their whole heads and faces on display.
One of these was a woman named Madda. She saw Din’s helmet and froze by one of the long tables.
“Din, I’m so glad you returned,” she said with hitching breath. And then she took her newly-acquired jug of frogs and went tearing back down the hallway towards the covert’s main entrance. Din watched after her, confused.
“Is the transition difficult?” he asked one of the other Mandalorians next to him.
Their helmet showed zero emotion, and yet Boba gleaned from it everything he needed to know. He put a palm on his forehead.
“Djarin, come here,” he said.
-------------
Din chased after Madda to apologize for fucking up what was probably a years-long infatuation at this point. Fennec watched after him with a sly grin. But the Mandalorian with the flat helmet turned to Boba with far more open shoulders.
“You got through to him like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.
“It’s his secret talent,” Fennec told her.
“What was your name?” the Mandalorian asked.
“Boba Fett,” Boba said. “And yours?”
“Jhuvac.”
“Nice to meet you,” Boba said politely.
“Aren’t you the clone-guy?”
Welp.
“I prefer ‘Fett,’” Boba said.
“Nah, I feel that,” Jhuvac said, tossing her scarf over her shoulder. “Paz calls you the ‘clone-guy’ is all. That shit’s wild, by the way. But you can’t help your dad’s decision now can you?”
What was this? Understanding? From a traditionalist? Kryze would lose her shit.
“I can’t, although everything after that was totally me,” Boba said.
Jhuvac glanced back at him.
“Including the Solo stuff?” she asked.
Boba lifted a brow.
“Is there something you would like to know?” he asked.
“No,” Jhuvac said. “I know everything I need to. But you know what’ll make Vok’s life miserable?”
---------
The mechanic was a huge fan of Han Solo, and he had a list of reasons why Boba should cease hunting the man about as long as one of his lanky arms. He listed them out one by one in his hangar full of metal scrap. Jhuvac was very correct when she said that the mere mention of Solo meeting his maker would cause Vok immense misery. Boba could see how it could be entertaining.
Fennec made it even more entertaining by poking holes in each of Vok’s carefully laid out arguments.
He kept asking her why she was hurting him like this. Was this a domination kink?
Fennec asked him if he wanted it to be.
Vok walked it all back and told her to do her worst.
Jhuvac decided that she suddenly had other things to do and invited Boba to accompany her on these things. Boba assented and left Fennec to her business.
----------
In the end, Boba found himself outside in a group huddle with a handful of covert people, two with no helmets, watching the feud between the foundlings and the local wildlife. The covert, he learned, broadly did not like Zeffo. They hated how wet it was. They hated how cold it was. 90% of them had grown up in desert climates, the remaining 10% in ice climates.
Zeffo, as far as they were concerned, was a backwater hellhole that they’d had little choice in selecting.
“It was this or breaking up and forming two coverts,” Sotra explained, removing Mesa’s captured snail from his face area for the third time. She gave the snail to the guy next to her who got up and took it down to the edge of the nearby river. He stooped to set it in the grass, then froze in shock when a fish’s wide mouth erupted from the water and encapsulated his whole glove.
It left the glove wet and empty.
“But you didn’t want to do that?” Boba asked.
“No, if we separated, it would be Eegang at the head of the new covert,” Sotra said. “And that’s just not in the cards for us right now.”
Gotcha.
“The children didn’t want to be separated either,” one of the Mandalorians with no helmet said. “Goran gave them the option, but things were frantic, you know. They cling to each other when they’re young like this.”
More than understandably, in Boba’s humble and correct opinion.
“What do you all think of Bojzka?” Boba asked them.
“Who?”
“The bull with no helmet? Beard?” someone said.
“The one trying to court the Armorer?” Sotra asked.
Everyone clambered back onto the same page in the face of this descriptor.
“He’s supposed to be some kind of hero,” Jhuvac said. “But I dunno, man. He seems a little, uh.”
“Goran’s too good for him,” Sotra interjected simply. “Imagine stooping so low after a life of respect and service.”
“He’s not ugly,” the Mandalorian who’d lost the snail pointed out. “I’d bang him.”
“You’re not a good bar, Ban.”
“I could be.”
“You’re the lowest bar, Ban.”
“Can’t be disappointed if your expectations on the floor.”
“Go bang him for Goran then,” Jhuvac said. “I can’t tell if she thinks he’s kinda cute or if she wants to stab him in the heart.”
“For the good of the covert, I will endure this hardship,” Ban said.
He was unceremoniously yanked back down when he started to stand.
“Din mentioned some guy named ‘Naseem?’” Boba asked.
The name alone sent the group into titters.
“Naseem was so nice.”
“Naseem was great, you have no idea. So respectful.”
“He wanted to take Din on so bad, it was almost heartbreaking. He and Goran were perfect for each other. He was so happy around her; I don’t think he ever talked in front of anyone else.”
“God, when he died, I cried so hard. I cried for days.”
“Same.”
“Same.”
“Same.”
“Kind of a tough reputation to beat, then?” Boba asked.
“Oh definitely,” Jhuvac said. “I mean, there was Hajka after him, but she was just so explosive. Like, she made Goran laugh a lot, I remember that, but she was kinda awkward, too. There was a battle on her home planet and she left everyone here to defend what was left of her people.”
“Goran collects the awkward ones, they’re her favorite,” Sotra said.
“You can’t judge her, you collect Eegangs,” Ban pointed out.
“There is only one Eegang.”
“Girl, we know.”
There was a pause while Sotra handed off her child so that she could beat the shit out of Ban on the lumpy grass. Jhuvac handed Mesa over Boba’s lap to the quiet person at his right. They took the baby without question and laid him on their chest.
“Where did you grow up, Boba?” Jhuvac asked. “Sorry, Fett. Do you like Fett?”
Boba was taken aback. It had been ages since someone had called him by his first name—and a Mandalorian no less.
“Boba is fine. I grew up on Kamino,” he said.
“With a covert?”
No, no covert. No anyone, really. Boba was what people in white coats tended to call ‘under-socialized.’
“That’s sad,” Jhuvac said. “It must have been lonely.”
It was, actually. Especially after Dad had died.
“That’s so sad, I’m gonna cry,” Ban said. “Join our covert.”
All helmets and eyes rounded on Boba and he felt like his collar was suddenly digging into his neck. He shook his head.
“I’m not really a Mandalorian,” he said. “It’s not right—”
“Bullshit.”
“Fuckin’ hell, Jhuvac, let ‘im talk.”
“No, that’s bullshit. Listen, Din has ‘don’t trust people’ syndrome. If he trusts you enough to bring you with him here, then you’re Mandalorian enough for us,” Jhuvac said. “And anyways, being a Mandalorian is about what you do, not who you are. It doesn’t matter if you’re clone-guy so long as you follow the Creed in a more or less northernly direction.”
Boba stared at her and realized that everyone was staring at him again. He cleared his throat but found that he didn’t have any words trapped back there like he’d thought.
“Or easternly,” Ban offered to break the awkwardness.
There were still no words on Boba’s tongue. He struggled to say at least something.
“I—th—that’s kind of you,” he eventually managed. “I don’t think I could cut it here, but that’s really kind of you.”
The Mandalorians exchanged looks and shrugs.
“Know that the offer stands if you feel any pull towards it later,” Sotra said. “We have a number of reformed who converted and who move in and out of our covert. Not recently, but when we were children, there were more. Goran, too, was once a reformed Mandalorian.”
“My buir, too,” Jhuvac added.
“My ba-buir was reformed,” Ban said. “But she might have caused a public riot. Or two. Or three.”
“Speaking of which,” Sotra said. “Elder Fayrz has emerged from his cave.”
“I’ll get him,” Jhuvac sighed.
Boba frowned and looked from them out to the hill the foundlings had selected to gossip on. A Mandalorian in black and white with a green cape was, indeed, now kneeling among them. Every face was turned towards him in wonder.
“I’ve heard of this guy. He looks fun,” he noted.
At least one hand from every body came up to clutch at their face.
“That’s exactly the problem,” Ban said.
------
Din rejoined Boba in the midst of Elder Fayrz’s attempt to recruit him into the covert. He somehow knew Dad. That in itself was a little disarming. At first, Boba hadn’t believe that the elder was speaking the truth, but then he started up with alarmingly specific training corp numbers and mentioned off-handedly that he used to work in the corps, training kids from six to fourteen.
It made sense now why, in old age, he was considered the most dangerous person in the covert to have around the foundlings.
Grandpa was a serial spoil-er and mischief-instigator. The children saw in him everything they wanted out of life and were loathe to be separated from their most favorite old man.
Din got between him and Boba and informed the Elder that he’d just gotten married.
The Elder’s attentions went rocketing in the opposite direction. He wanted pictures, he wanted to know all about the reception, he wanted to know why Din hadn’t brought his partner home with him, what color their armor was, where they were presently based—the whole barrel of spotchka.
Boba appreciated the save.
He also appreciated the moment when the Elder fully realized that Din had, in fact, married a real jedi.
“YOU STUPID BOY.”
There it was.
The children bustled and whispered.
“This is what happens when we do not teach them to read—where is your buir? I told her, I told her that you needed more lessons. Always with the dogs, I knew it would have some effect—”
Din couldn’t even argue. He and Kryze had been over the very same deficit about sixty times. If they were lucky, Bo-Katan gave him a day or two off in between scoldings.
While the old man was outraged, Din signaled to Boba that they would be leaving soon.
--------
Bojzka joined Boba, Din, and Fennec at the ramp of their ship about ten minutes late. The Armorer personally showed him out of the covert and told him to return only if the galaxy began to collapse in on itself. She was at least cordial about it, which, in hindsight, was probably why Bojzka was having a hard time reading the glaring ‘please desist’ sign flickering over her head.
“Be safe,” she told Din while Karren made sad sounds behind her.
“Will do,” Din said. “Next time, I’ll see if Luke will come.”
“We would like to have him,” the Armorer said.
She dipped her helmet to Boba and Fennec and they returned the gesture.
“I hope you were well-received by the others,” she said. “Bojzka, good bye.”
“Talk to you later,” Bojzka hummed.
“We shall not,” the Armorer said.
---------
Back in the Dune Sea, Kryze was waiting in one of the conference rooms. Din avoided her and all her probing questions. Boba did not. He was in a sharing sort of mood and Fennec had a ‘thanks for the lay’ message to compose to Mr. Vok.
Kryze crossed her legs and gestured for him to join her at the table.
He did and crossed his legs right back.
“So?” she asked.
“Shocking peaceful,” Boba said. “Violent mostly towards their own members. Tried to recruit me at least three times.”
Kryze’s eyebrows did a little dance.
“Surprising,” she said.
“Not very,” Boba corrected. “Din is one of the more reserved members. He resembles his buir more than I expected.”
“And Bojzka?” Kryze asked.
“Soundly rejected, but somehow optimistic about it,” Boba said. “The good news is that Din’s been forbidden from trying to kill him.”
“That is good news,” Kryze agreed.
There was a long pause.
“Are you thinking about it? Joining, I mean?” Kryze asked.
“No,” Boba said, “But it is nice to occasionally be around Mandalorians who don’t have sticks up their asses.”
“Unicorns,” Kryze said.
“A whole covert of them,” Boba told her with a smirk. “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s you all.”
“I beg to differ,” Kryze said. “If the issue is resolved, then I suppose we’ll have to move back on to official business.”
That was no fun.
“Why is Fennec so smug?”
Oh, that was more fun. Sit back down, Lady. This is going to be a bawdy one.
#the mandalorian#the armorer#din djarin#boba fett#dinluke#ficlet#don't mind me I just need answers#and in their absence I make them myself
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Baby Group - Jessa / Herongraystairs Family ficlet
Tessa, Jem and Kit all take turns taking Mina to the local baby group in Devon. Pure fluff (okay, tiny bit of angst in Tessa's section but it's mostly fluff!)
Tessa paused as she finished buckling Mina into her sling. The building in front of her was unassuming, a low white wood-sided structure, covered by a green roof. There were children’s handprints and rainbow decorations taped to the windows. She could feel Mina’s tiny, reassuring weight in front of her, as her daughter wiggled and let out a couple of happy baaa baa da’s as Tessa jiggled her, trying to weigh up whether she really wanted to go in.
‘Newton Abbey Surestart Centre’ read the colourful sign beside the wide path, leading up to sliding doors.
A couple of other women walked past her, chatting and pushing buggies that looked more like mini-cars, given all the bells and whistles attached. They didn’t pay any attention to her and Mina.
“First time?” A voice came from behind her. Tessa turned and saw a young, red-haired woman, who was smiling at her as she wrestled a chubby baby with similar hair into a smaller buggy.
“Yes,” Tessa said, and remembering her manners, gestured to herself and to a now-quiet Mina, who was taking it all in with wide, dark eyes. “I’m Tessa Carstairs and this is Mina.”
“Gemma Sampson and this is Charlee,” said the other woman cheerfully. “You have the right way of doing it,” she continued, pointing to Tessa’s sling. “I don’t know why I bother with all this baby shit,” she said, rolling her brown eyes and crinkling up her nose, as she pointed to her overflowing baby bag and packed buggy.
“I- uh, I tend to travel light,” Tessa said, but internally she cursed. Should she have brought more? Maybe she should go grab the extra nappy and wipes out of the backseat, just to show she was prepared? Mina was usually happy just observing the world, rather than being occupied by toys and Tessa was still breastfeeding her so they usually travelled with minimal supplies.
But Tessa had not done the baby thing in over a hundred years and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. She wondered again, if this had been the best idea- but Jem had suggested if they were settling in at Cirenworth long-term they should probably try to integrate themselves into the community. Especially as they no longer had the monumental task of finding the lost Herondale, and they wanted to encourage Kit to find his own friends. It would be best to take their own advice, Jem had suggested, a small laugh erupting from him as Tessa had asked if he was about to join the local cricket team or the small village choir. “The choir, probably-” Jem had said, winking at her. “But maybe the local woodworking shop too.”
Gemma slid around Tessa with her buggy and gave a friendly nod. “Come on, love- they only let us in for the hour and then they kick us out. You want to get your money’s worth.”
“Isn’t it free?” Tessa muttered under her breath but she followed Gemma in, giving her name and Mina’s to the bored teenager at the door.
“She’s gorgeous,” the health visitor - who Tessa had been told was also a nurse - looked admiringly at Mina. Tessa relaxed fractionally. “Thank you. She takes after her dad,” she said, the smile growing on her face. Mina gurgled curiously and reached out for the rattle that the woman was holding out. She shook it happily.
“Is she your first?” the nurse asked, casually.
Tessa froze. She took a deep breath.
“No. I had two other children. James and Lucie. They… they’re not around,” she said and hated how her voice shook faintly. Normally it didn’t sting this much, the thought of her precious James and bubbly Lucie. But in this homely, warm place with the babble of babies’ voices and happy, smiling parents watching them, it hit her unexpectedly.
Tessa could see the nurse’s eyes sharply assess Tessa, taking in her youthful face but also, Tessa hoped, her smart denim skirt, yellow flowered collared shirt and the image that Tessa wanted her to see. “I see,” she said but noting the look on Tessa’s face she didn’t ask any further questions. She wrote some scribbles down on her pad, smiling politely and told Tessa to enjoy the centre.
As she walked away, Tessa cast a small spell to dislodge the note, which dropped to the floor beside her and Mina. She read: ‘children? x2 possible dec. or child servs?’ and her stomach dropped as she crumpled it in her hand. She followed up and cast a quick memory spell on the woman to also make her forget the last two minutes of their conversation. Maybe this had been a mistake… she thought, and when she looked up again, she could see Gemma had settled beside her and Mina, Charlee shaking a plastic tambourine in Gemma’s arms..
“They’re old busybodies,” Gemma announced, jerking her head at the health visitor. Tessa smiled wryly. The woman was maybe thirty at most.
“But also- you don’t have to engage with them to use the centre,” she said frankly. “It’s not a requirement.” She looked directly at Tessa and her look softened. “I’m sorry about your children though- it must be tough to be a warlock and have to watch them grow old.”
Tessa thought she was good at schooling her face to remain neutral, after so many years but Gemma just let out a small laugh and she let her eyes flash amber briefly. And Tessa relaxed, realising Gemma was a werewolf.
“We have a small group of Downworlders here at baby group,” Gemma said and she pointed to a small group off to the side. “Mostly werewolves, a couple Sighted women and one half-nixie. But we’ve never had a warlock before,” she said, her voice hopeful.
“Sounds delightful,” Tessa said, watching as Gemma’s smile widened. She picked up Mina, following her to the group.
--
“That’s it, clever Mina-mine,” Jem cooed, as Mina peeked her head out from the small, fabric enclosed tube that he had procured from the far corner. She smiled up at him, her cheeks squishing up into tiny peaks as she crawled further out. She rolled onto her back and then began chewing on her hands, tired from all the effort. Jem was so proud of her.
He looked around and was surprised at the large group of women and children that had gathered around him and Mina. It had been nearly empty in the baby area when he and Mina had arrived at the children’s centre, with only a couple other mums and babies around, likely due to the heavy rain they had had that morning, Jem mused.
But more must have showed up as he was playing with Mina and he hadn’t realised. Then Jem blushed and suddenly understood, as they all kept glancing over to him. “C’mon, Mina- we’re hogging the equipment! We need to let the other babies have a turn. Let’s go play with some other toys,” he said, lifting her up into his arms and made to move to another section of the room.
“Oh no- that’s fine,” said one woman, bouncing her baby on her knee, smiling at Jem. “We don’t mind waiting our turn.”
“She can play with these.” Another woman waved a couple of colourful scarves at him.
“Or this.” Jem found a couple of jingly bell-trees thrust into his lap, and the dark-haired woman held out a couple more, smiling at him. “My baby is finished with them.”
“Oh- that’s very kind of you,” Jem said, awkwardly trying to balance them and Mina in his arms.
He caught sight of a familiar figure coming towards them, and he grinned, dropping the toys to the side. He held Mina up so she could see. “It’s Mama!”
Tessa smiled her lovely, radiant smile as she approached them. As if by magic, the other woman and babies melted away as she bent down to give Mina a kiss on her forehead and Jem a quick peck on the lips. “Hello, my two darlings!” she said, settling herself on the floor beside them. “Did you miss me?”
“Always,” Jem said.
--
“We’re full for the session,” the older woman in a rumpled sweater gave Kit a bored look and turned away, to continue to talk to her taller, younger colleague.
Kit blinked. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” the woman said dryly, bending her head down to write in a log.
“Fine,” Kit muttered. Mina babbled and Kit could swear that he could hear the disappointment in her tone. “It’s okay, Min-Min, we’ll do something better than stupid baby group,” he said, hefting her further up on his shoulder and prepared to leave.
But then suddenly she was overbalancing on him and Kit struggled to hold onto her as she surged forward.
“BA BA NA!” she shouted excitedly at the dark-skinned woman with long braids walking past. She paused and turned towards the noise and her smile was infectious as she took in Mina. “Mina Carstairs!”
Ten seconds later, they were through the doors, the older woman scowling as the director of the centre told her to let them in. “Don’t tell anyone but she’s one of my favourite babies,” the director told Kit conspiratorially.
“She’s one of my favourite babies too,” Kit said, stifling a smile. Mina was smiling contentedly, or almost smugly, Kit thought, in the woman’s arms.
“And of course, your parents are also brilliant,” the woman said, handing Mina back to him. “Say hello to them from Sonya.”
“I will,” Kit said, as they headed further into the centre.
He plopped her down on a couple of cushions and stretched out beside her, taking in the scene. Kit idly wondered if his dad had ever taken him to a centre like this when he was young, before immediately scoffing and dismissing the possibility.
It did look like baby heaven, he thought, as Mina started crawling over to a rainbow-coloured arch. He watched the other babies and parents around, noting that he was likely the youngest one there or… actually, maybe not, he thought, as he saw a nervous, thin girl in the corner, playing with one of the chubbiest babies he had ever seen.
“Stay away from that baby, Mins,” he said. “He looks like he eats other babies for breakfast.” He looked down.
“I swear we’ve gone over this - we don’t eat socks,” Kit told her, an exasperated but fond manner. He grabbed a tiny bag out of his pocket and shook it at her. “I have much tastier snacks here.” He watched as Mina took her purple socked-toes out of her mouth and gestured in a familiar way. Kit handed her a couple of tiny baby puffs.
“No snacks on the play floor,” said the same, grumpy monitor as she walked past.
Kit rolled his eyes but put the bag away.
Kit didn’t rise to the bait when five minutes later she told him that he was being too loud with the xylophone.
He gritted his teeth when she snatched away the blocks that he had been planning to get Mina, informing him that it was almost the end of session and she was starting to tidy up.
And during the group singing time at the end of the session, when she told him to stop mumbling the words to the stupid nursery rhymes, Kit decided it had gotten personal.
“Oh, sorry,” Kit gave an angelic smile as he stepped away from the woman. She scowled at him, and turned away to button her coat up, her purse swinging in the air, unzipped.
Kit waited until they were out of the centre before looking down at his spoils. Sweet, he thought. A Cadbury’s Crunchie bar and two Twirls.
He shifted Mina in his arms, to one shoulder and holding the chocolate bar in the other hand, ripped off the wrapper of the Crunchie with his teeth.
“Don’t tell Mom and Dad,” he told Mina, after swallowing several bites.
She smiled placidly and reached for the Crunchie. “Not yet- in a couple of years,” Kit said. But then he reconsidered, and let her have a short gum at the stub. She giggled and burrowed her chocolate-smeared face into his shirt.
And then they got on the bus back to the village, heading back to Cirenworth.
(I don't know who to tag in my Herongraystairs family fics? @dontmindmyshadowhunting @sandersgrey @foxglove-airmid maybe? This is definitely the start of Kit bringing Mina into the pickpocketing life
Let me know if anyone else wants to be added in!
Previous Herongraystairs family fics:
Days Like These (day at the beach)
#tsc fanfiction#tessa gray#jem carstairs#kit herondale#jessa#jem carstairs faces the twenty first century with style#tessa gray is a legend#kit keeps his pickpocketing skills up to date#my fanfic#my fanfiction#i am stuck on writing smut or plot so you all get fluff right now#jem carstairs x tessa gray
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Five Minutes
Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader
Summary: Five minutes is all it takes for Y/N to disappear
Warning: Kidnapping
Word Count: 1,717
A/N: I’m back! This is only part one!
Part Two HERE! Part Three HERE! Part Four HERE! Part Five HERE! Part Six HERE!
Master List HERE Permanent Tag List HERE
“Where are you?” he questioned. You could imagine him sitting on his couch, popcorn and drinks laid out on the coffee table. He’d be bouncing his leg, fighting the urge to go check out his window to see if he could spot you. He was usually a patient man, but you’d both been looking forward to this evening.
You’d been travelling from state-to-state with little downtime for the past two months but finally, Hotch had given the team a complete weekend off. You and Spencer had quickly made plans to spend Saturday evening together at his apartment, he’d brought the latest Marvel film which you’d both been dying to watch.
It was something which had bonded you both when you had first joined the team. As the newest, and youngest, member of the team, you had felt like the odd-one-out for a time. However, two months into your new job, Spencer had caught sight of a Marvel trailer on your phone which you were watching on the jet home. It had opened up a conversation which had led to you both find out that your interests were very similar.
Through your growing connection with Spencer, you had become to feel more comfortable with the team. You’d started speaking to the other members more, even Derek, who had made you nervous at the beginning because of his muscles. He gave off the impression that he could crush you like a bug but once you got to know him, he was a sweetheart.
While you had grown extremely close with the girls of the team, you still considered Spencer as one of your closest friends. Okay, that was a lie. Though you would never tell anyone, you harboured a crush of the resident ‘Pretty Boy’. It hadn’t formed straight away. You’d been friends for years, but then slowly, butterflies started to form in your stomach.
When he would smile at you, your sides would tingle. When he’d laugh at something stupid that you had said, your insides would warm. On the occasion where he sought comfort and you hug you, you would feel like you could breathe – but in a good way.
“I’m almost there, I’m just outside Little Istanbul” you told him, your eyes peaking into the little restaurant.
“Istanbul actually isn’t that small. It spans five-thousand three hundred and forty-three square kilometres and has a population of approximately fifteen million people. Of those approximately fifteen million people, sixty-four-point nine percent live on the European side of the city, with thirty-five point one living on the Asian side” Spencer tells you.
“Nerd” you snort playfully, rolling your eyes.
“It’s general knowledge, Y/N, unlike the knowledge you hold about The Little Mermaid” he counters, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“That film is a classic and the songs are a gift” you are quick to defend with a small laugh. “Anyway, I’m nearly there. I’ll see you in a few.”
You quickly say your goodbyes before tucking your phone into your pocket. It was nearing half-six and the streetlights were just turning on, casting a hazy orange glaze over the sidewalk. It was a nice night, a cool breeze blowing through the early autumn night. The streets were mostly bare, which was odd but not all-together strange. It was peaceful.
You turned right, onto a small side road which acted as a short cut to Spencer’s apartment. The street was only about one-hundred yards, with two streetlights which lit nearly the whole road, apart from the small section in the middle.
The little street is almost empty, little laying in a small pile off to the side. A person walks down the road towards you, headphones in their eyes as their head bops to their music, their hands in their pockets. He doesn’t acknowledge you as you pass, just continues pass and you continue on your way.
Your just about to exit the little street when an arm wraps around your waist, a cloth covering your mouth and nose as your pulled backwards.
__
Spencer looked at his watch again. It had been nearly ten minutes since he had gotten off the phone with Y/N and she still hadn’t arrived. Little Istanbul was only five minutes from his apartment, so she should have been here by now.
He pulled out his phone, quickly selecting Y/N’s contact and calling her. He went to the window, pulling back the curtain to look outside. The street was clear, apart from a single car which drove a little two quickly. Spencer turned away, letting the curtain full closed as he focused on the phone call.
The phone continued to ring but Y/N didn’t answer, and the phone went to voicemail. He tried again, and again, but still, there was no answer. Why wasn’t she answering. Maybe she had dropped her phone, she always kept it in her jeans pocket. Surely she would have noticed though, right? And if she hadn’t noticed, she would still already be here by now.
Spencer wasn’t sure what he should do. Y/N hadn’t arrived, and she wasn’t answering her phone. should he go and look for her? But what if she turned up just as he left? Well, he said to himself, she would just wait at the door or let herself in, I did give her an emergency key.
Spencer strode towards the door, bending at the waist to pull his shoes on. Shrugging on a light jacket, he grabbed his keys and his phone, and left the apartment.
It didn’t take long for Spencer to reach the side road near his apartment but when he did, he stopped. There on the floor, was Y/N phone. She had made it this far. As he looked up from the floor, turning to look behind him and towards his apartment, he froze. There, on the wall under a eerie glow, was a smidge of blood.
Normally, Spencer wouldn’t have been worried seeing that. It was a street, sometimes people would knock into the wall or get into fights. However, he had walked down this road earlier and the blood hadn’t been there. Y/N’s phone was also on the floor, though there was no sign of her. His eyes scanned the floor again and caught sight of a piece of cloth caught of a small bush.
Something wasn’t right. Separately, these things wouldn’t be concerning. However, Spencer had a feeling that something had happened, that something had gone wrong. Y/N was missing, that was all there is to it. He had walked to the street, taking the path she would have had to in order to get to his apartment, but hadn’t passed her. She was gone.
He quickly pulled out his phone, pressing number three on the speed dial. It rang for a moment before connecting and Spencer didn’t allow the other person to talk. “I think somethings happened to Y/N.” “Reid?” Hotch asks. “What happened, what do you mean?”
“She was meant to come watch a movie but didn’t turn up, I spoke to her when she was five minutes away. I waited, to see if she was running late but she didn’t turn up” Spencer began to explain. “I traced the same path she would have used, and I found her phone in an alley. There’s a blood on the wall and a cloth nearby… I think maybe she was taken… something just doesn’t feel right.”
-
Spencer sat at the conference table, his leg bouncing as the rest of the team came into the room. Each member took their seats, none of them looking particularly happy to have been called back to work early.
“Where’s Y/N?” Emily asked, looking around the table.
Hotch glanced at Spencer before addressing the team, “Y/N’s missing. She was meant to visit Spencer but never turned up, instead, her phone was found in a side road, along with blood. A cloth was found near by and we’ve put a rush on that. The lab has made an early guess of it being chloroform…”
“What? When was this?” Derek asked, sitting up straight in his chair.
“Two hours ago,” Hotch replied.
“And you’ve only just called us, what the hell, Hotch?” Derek said, pushing to his feet in anger.
Hotch ignored Derek, turning to address the other members of the team, “Prentiss, take JJ and check Y/N’s flat. We don’t know if someone’s been following her. There might be something there if someone was. Derek, I want you and Rossi to go back to the side road, see if you can see anything we missed. Reid and I will start mapping out Y/N friends and family, anyone she could have come into contact with lately. Garcia’s already started looking through security cameras.”
The team separated, each member going to complete their separate tasks.
-
You woke up feeling dizzy and your stomach rolled. You groaned, fighting off the wave of nausea. You laid still for a few more minutes, waiting for your stomach to calm down. The dizziness passed but your stomach still felt off, you ignored it though as you blinked your eyes open.
You blinked a few times, your surroundings slowly starting to come into focus. The room you’re in is dark and damp, you can feel the moisture in the air as you breathe. The walls are solid concrete, the floor a matching grey and it take a moment for your brain to catch up and for you to realise you’re in a basement.
In front of you are bars and when you look to your left, then right, there are bars there too. You don’t have the energy in you to turn over, but you would guess that there are bars behind you too. You were in a cage, like an animal.
Your brain struggled to make sense of what was going on around you, still foggy from whatever had knocked you out. You laid on the floor of the cage, willing your brain to clear but the fog continued to cloud your brain, making it feel like it was full of cotton wall.
Your eyes closed as you were unable to fight to keep them open. You felt yourself drifting away but as you went, you could have sworn you heard a lock turn…
Permanent Tag List: @sskhair @sammypotato67
#spencer#spencer reid#spencer x reader#spencer x you#spencer x y/n#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#cm#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 - 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝
Pairing: Harry Holland x Reader 5,170 words
𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒
Harry felt so free. He just turned 18 and he was able to move out of his parents’ house and live on his own. The apartment building looked old, but it was home. His first ever home where he’s alone. Everyone was supportive of him, of course. They always knew he was independent.
He felt homesick from time to time, but that was normal. The apartment next to his was empty and it kind of saddened him that no one was living there. The rest of the units were taken, but they were all older than Harry. In short, it was difficult to make friends with people because the people there were either divorcee’s or really busy people who work at offices. He was on the young side.
Because of that situation, you could picture his excitement when he saw a moving truck outside his apartment building. Harry smiled excitedly and silently prayed that the person moving in was the same age as him and that they were moving in the apartment unit next to his. Otherwise, he’d be lonely in that building.
Well, he wasn’t totally lonely. Every morning Mrs. Johnson would smile at him when they get their mail together and sometimes invite him inside her apartment for tea and they’d talk about their families. She was a lovely old woman. Mr. Bradley would knock on Harry’s door from time to time to ask if he could babysit his son in case the babysitter cancelled. Then of course there’s Rick ‘The Maverick’ Nelson. He insisted that Harry should call him maverick. A maverick is a noun and it means an unorthodox or an independent-minded person which is totally the opposite of Rick ‘The Maverick’ Nelson. He’s a divorcee and every weekend, his 8 year old daughter would come over. Harry didn’t really care about the kid going there, but what he did care about was the fact that Rick would always drink. It made him worry about the 8 year old. So whenever the 8 year old kid was around, Harry would give her a few sweets and sometimes would take her to the park nearby (with Rick’s permission, of course).
As soon as Harry arrived on his floor, he was ecstatic to see a girl around his age bringing in the last box in the now occupied apartment. Harry knew he had to introduce himself because he finally had someone his age to talk to. He was truly happy!
He decided that he should look for something in his house to give to you, so he rushed inside his apartment and immediately looked for something. A pan? No, Sam uses it whenever he visits. Body lotion? He uses it because of his skin care routine. Cologne? He only has one. A house plant? His mum would be upset if he gave his one and only house plant away. Harry settled for a box of pizza. He called and thirty minutes later, the pizza was delivered to his door. He fixed his hair one last time and left his apartment to knock on the apartment next door.
The door opened and Harry smiled, “Hi, I’m Harry! I live next door. I bought you some pizza as a welcome gift.” He handed the pizza to you despite your awkward smile.
“Um, thanks.” You said as he handed the pizza to you. Both of you just stood there for a minute. He was just looking at you all giggly and smiley, but you were looking elsewhere, avoiding his gaze. “Well, uh, thanks for the pizza.” You told him with a tight-lipped smile.
“You’re welcome!” Harry grinned.
“Okay… you can go now.” You said, backing up a bit, getting ready to get inside and close the door.
“I’m actually not busy. I could help you unpack or something.” Harry said. He was desperate.
“That’s okay. I don’t have a lot of things, anyway.” You shrugged off.
“But there was a moving truck awhile ago.” Harry pointed out.
“Believe it or not, when I got here, someone was moving out. Hence, the moving truck. I only got here in an Uber with four boxes and a foldable mattress.” You awkwardly chuckled. Harry blushed in embarrassment and said, “Oh, I see.”
“Yup.” You said. It was really awkward.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Harry said and smiled. “If you need anything, I’ll just be there next door.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thanks again.” You said with a small smile.
“Okay. Bye!” Harry said.
“Bye.” You smiled before quickly getting in and closing the door. Harry sighed and bowed his head down.
“That went well.” A voice said from across the hall.
Harry looked up and turned around to see Mr. Bradley and his son. Harry awkwardly chuckled and waved at them.
“She’s pretty.” Mr. Bradley’s son said. He’s 5 years old.
“She is.” Harry nodded in agreement.
“Ask her out.” Mr. Bradley said and winked.
“Maybe next time.” Harry said with a smile.
“Good luck!” Mr. Bradley’s son said with a cute smile.
“Thanks, little dude.” Harry smiled too. The 5 year old’s smile was contagious, after all.
Birthday
Harry didn’t want to be nosy, but he was really curious as to why you had a bouquet of flowers on your doorstep. He looked around to see if anyone was looking before picking up the bouquet. ‘To: Y/N’ was written in beautiful cursive. A million thoughts were running through his head and he didn’t know how to react: who was it from? Do you have a boyfriend? Why isn’t your boyfriend around? Is he hiding as a surprise?
His thoughts were cut off when you arrived.
“What’re you doing?” You asked. Harry slightly jumped in shock. He turned around and looked at you and looked at the flowers and looked at you again.
“N-Nothing! I just saw these on your doorstep and I was just going to give it.. to you.” Harry smiled and handed you the bouquet. You took it from him with a suspicious look on your face.
You read the card and smiled a bit before turning to him with a b;ank expression, “Thank you for handing to me.”
“You’re welcome. What’s the occasion?” He asked.
“Nothing special.” You shrugged as you moved around him to unlock your door.
“Flowers are involved… it has to be a special occasion. Is it an anniversary?” He asked once more.
“I’m single, so it’s definitely not an anniversary.” You chuckled humorlessly.
“Um...a secret admirer?”
“Nope.” You shook your head. Harry opened his mouth to guess again, but you cut him off. “It’s actually my birthday. The people who raised me sent me these which is surprising because they’re usually super cold and shit.”
“Oh, happy birthday! Why didn’t you say so? Let’s celebrate!” Harry cheered.
“I don’t celebrate my birthday, sorry. Thank you, though.” You nodded at him.
“Why not?” Harry frowned. “It only happens once a year and-”
“Exactly. It only happens once a year and there’s not much to do, anyway. If I threw a party, the whole place would be a mess and no one would clean it up except for me.. the celebrant. Plus, I have to spend money for the food and drinks for people who I secretly find annoying, but I invite them anyway so that they won’t nag me for not inviting them.” You rambled.
“And I totally get that, but it could just be the two of us, y’know?” Harry suggested. You stared at him, “...Is this your way of asking me out? Because I don’t want to date anyone. Not right now, at least.”
Harry blushed, “O-Of course not! We could celebrate as friends.”
“I only know your first name and that you live next door.” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow.
“This is our chance to get to know each other then.” Harry smiled. “What do you say? Wanna celebrate? There’ll be no party and it’ll just be you and me. My treat, so that you don’t have to spend. It’s my birthday gift.”
You thought about it for a while before un-crossing your arms and nodding, “Fine. Let’s celebrate.”
“For real?!” He exclaimed.
“Yup. A little change won’t be so bad, I guess.” You gave him a small smile. “I’ll put these inside first and then we can go, okay?”
“Okay.” Harry smiled as he watched you go inside your apartment. A few seconds later, you exit your apartment, lock the door, and turn to Harry.
“So, where are we going?” You smiled.
Mother’s Day
You were making a fresh batch of cookies when you heard a knock on your door. You stopped what you were doing and waited for the knock to repeat in case you were just hearing things. When you heard the knock again, you washed your hands and made your way to the door.
“That’s weird. I’m not expecting anyone today.” You told yourself before opening the door. You were surprised to see a woman you’ve never seen in your life before. She was smiling at you and she had two boys with her.
“Um, hello.” You greeted politely.
“Hello, love! Harry never told us that he had a girlfriend.” The woman smiled excitedly. You looked at her dumbfounded. “I’m Harry’s mum. You can call me Nikki.”
“And I’m Dominic, Harry’s dad. But you can call me Dom.”
“This is my youngest, Paddy.” Nikki said with a smile.
“Hey.” Paddy nodded at you.
You smiled, “It’s nice to meet you all, but there must be a mistake. I don’t live with Harry nor am I his girlfriend. I’m his neighbor, Y/N. Harry lives next door.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Nikki blushed.
“It’s okay.” You chuckled. “It was an honest mistake.”
Just then, Harry’s apartment door opened and his eyes widened when he saw his family on your doorstep instead of his. “Mum! Dad! Paddy! That’s the wrong apartment.” Harry said, clearly embarrassed. He turned to you and said, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
You shook your head and waved your hand, “It’s alright.”
Harry smiled and turned to Nikki, “Let’s go?”
“Yes, please! I’m starving.” Paddy said.
You all laughed and you said, “Well, I’ll leave you guys to it.”
“Let’s leave Y/N now. She’d want to spend Mother’s Day with her mum.” Harry said. You wanted to tell him that your mum was out of the picture, but you kept your mouth shut; not wanting to receive any look of pity and not wanting to answer questions about your personal life. Instead, you just smiled and nodded your head politely. You closed your door as soon as they left after you wished them a good lunch and a ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ to Nikki.
A few hours later, you hear another knock on your door. You opened the door only to reveal Harry with a small paper bag.
“We had leftovers at lunch and I figured I’d let you have it. My fridge is full, anyway.” Harry said and handed you the paper bag.
“Oh, thank you.” You smiled. Harry nodded and was about to leave when you stopped him, “Wait!”
He turned to you quickly and said, “Yeah?”
“I have an extra batch of cookies. Wait here.” You left and went to your small kitchen as Harry waited out in the hallway. He took a peek at your now furnished apartment and frowned at the sight of no visitor. Surely, you had one whilst he was away, right?
You came back and with a plastic Tupperware of cookies and gave it to Harry, “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Harry smiled and left.
His Birthday
Harry knocked on your door and he smiled when you opened it, “Hey Y/N!”
“Hey!” You smiled.
“Sam, my twin, is here and he cooked some food. Thought I’d give you some.” He handed you a Tupperware of food. You took it gratefully and thanked him.
“What’s the occasion?” You asked him.
“Mine and Sam’s birthday.” Harry said with a smile.
“Happy birthday!” You smiled.
“Thanks. There’ll be a party later tonight and I’d love for you to come.” Harry said.
You smiled sadly and said, “Parties aren’t really my thing and I have work tonight.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Harry said, covering up his sadness.
“I’ll make it up to you. Are you free tomorrow?” You asked casually. You felt bad for him.
“Yes, I am actually.” Harry said. “But Sam is sleeping over.”
“You shrugged, “Take him with us. It’s his birthday too, after all.”
The next day, you kept your promise and took them to your favorite restaurant as a birthday treat for them. It was really fun and you got to meet Sam.
A Random Day
You were going back to your apartment when you saw Harry exiting his apartment to take out the trash. He looked up and smiled at you, “Good morning, Y/N!”
“Morning, Harry.” You greeted back. “I’m surprised you’re up early.”
“Same here.” Harry laughed. “My parents are dropping off Paddy here in an hour and I have to clean up a bit.”
“Oh, okay. Do you need help? I’m free.” You shrugged.
“That would be really nice, thank you.” Harry smiled gratefully.
“Okay, well, I’ll let you throw your trash first and I’ll get changed in my cleaning clothes. I have a lot of cleaning supplies in my storage closet. Living alone is lonely, you know. Cleaning keeps me occupied.” You chuckled lightly.
“I’m excited.” Harry laughed. You exchanged a few more sentences before Harry threw his trash and before you got in your apartment to gather your cleaning supplies and change your clothes.
Five minutes later, you knocked on Harry’s door with your cleaning attire and cleaning supplies. “Wow, you have the whole cleaning package.” Harry chortled as soon as he opened the door and saw you.
You shrugged, “What can I say? I’m Monica Geller.”
“Okay, then.” Harry smiled and let you in before closing the door. Both of you started cleaning up and before you knew it, there was a knock on Harry’s door. He opened it only to reveal his parents and Paddy. They entered the clean apartment with a shocked expression on their faces.
“It’s so clean in here.” Nikki said in awe.
“Y/N helped.” Harry said and looked at you gratefully, mouthing a small ‘thank you’. You smiled back and mouthed back, ‘you’re welcome’.
“Hello!” You greeted with a smile.
“Hello, Y/N! Thank you for helping Harry.” Nikki smiled. “It’s so nice of you to do that.”
“It’s no problem, really.” You smiled. “Well, I’ll leave you guys to it.”
“Thanks again, Y/N.” Harry said before you left.
“Anytime, Harry.” You grinned before waving goodbye to everyone and going back to your apartment.
Those happened for years and throughout the years Harry has known you, he realized that you’ve never had visitors in your apartment. It was such a mystery to him as to why you never had anyone come over. He never even saw any family member of yours. He’s been in your apartment a few times, but other than him, no one else went there.
The holidays were coming and the snow was covering the ground. Harry decided that enough was enough. He wanted to confront you about it. It wasn’t his business, but it was bothering him. It was lonely, after all. He just wanted to give you company.
He was on his way to his parents’ house for the holidays and he didn’t want to leave without asking you what the matter was.
He knocked on your door and you smiled when you answered it. “Hi Harry! Aren’t you supposed to go to your parents’ house?” You asked.
“Yeah, I’ll go tomorrow. I just wanted to hang out with you before I leave.” Harry explained.
You nodded, “Come in, then.” You opened the door wider for him to come in. He went in and took in your apartment’s interior. You didn’t even have Christmas decorations on.
He went in and made himself comfortable on the couch. You closed the door and joined him. “What’s up?” You turned to him and asked.
“Just wanted to talk, that’s all.”
“Is something bothering you?”
“Yeah, actually.” Harry bit his lip nervously. “I just noticed that throughout the years of us being neighbors, you never had anyone come over to your apartment. Y’know, it’s always quiet and you don’t go home during the holidays. I’m not trying to be nosy or anything. I’m just… concerned and curious.”
You oursed your lips and nodded. He saw this and said, “I’m so sorry for sounding like I’m prying into your personal life or anything. I’m just concerned.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“You kinda remind me of Becca from Pitch Perfect. Closed off and all that.” Harry said and you chuckled at his analogy.
“I’ll take that as a compliment because I love Becca.” You said with a smile. Then it went silent. The comfortable silence filled the room as you thought about telling Harry or not. You decided to tell him because you’ve been neighbors for so long and he’s the only person you’ve been talking to in the building.
“Fine, I’ll tell you.” You said, breaking the silence. Harry didn't say anything. He just turned to you and patiently waited for you to talk.
“I grew up in an orphanage. My mother couldn’t take care of me, so she dropped me off there. It was like Meet The Robinsons minus the genius and the looking like the Cornelius thing. To be clear, I was Goob and not Lewis. Except, I don’t have a bowler hat and this is getting way off topic.”
Harry laughed and nodded for you to continue.
“Anyway, based on my story about me being Goob, I wasn’t adopted by anyone. I was interviewed a couple times, but I guess no one ever liked me. So, I grew up in the orphanage and stayed there until I was 18. The people weren’t bad there, but they weren’t good either. I can’t really describe them, so all I can really say is that they’re cold people.”
“When I turned 18, though, they gave me the biggest surprise ever. I was given a huge sum of money and a key to a decent apartment. I packed up my things and left that day and moved here immediately. I’ve never looked back since.”
“Remember the flowers on my doorstep?” You asked and he nodded. “It was from the orphanage. I was surprised that they remembered.”
“What about your friends from school? Or the ones who were adopted? Surely, you had contact with them.” Harry asked.
“Those who were adopted became bitches and we were kids. Those were empty promises. I expected a call from the first kid who was adopted, but after a few more kids you start losing hope that they’d call, y’know? Besides, I heard from the orphanage that one of those kids is in jail now for robbery. Big yikes.” You said casually.
“Big yikes, indeed.” Harry nodded in agreement.
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m leaving this apartment next year.” You told him which took him by surprise.
“Next year? Why? Where will you go?” Harry frowned.
“I got a promotion, but they want me in Singapore.” You explained.
“Well, it’s Christmas in three days and now that you’ve told me all about you, I really don’t want your last Christmas to be alone.” Harry said.
“I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember, Harry. I’m used to it, really.” You chuckled lightly.
“You don’t have to be. I’m going home to my family tomorrow and I’d like to take you with me. It may not be the family that you want, but it’s the family you need. So, what do you say?” Harry asked.
“I don’t want to ruin your holiday. Besides, it’s family members only and if it didn’t already occur to you, I’m not family.” You said.
“You’re a family friend, though. That HAS to count.” Harry said. “I hope you know that I won’t stop until you say yes.”
You playfully rolled your eyes and said, “Okay, I’ll go, so that you can shut up.”
“Good.” Harry grinned. “I promise you that we’ll have so much fun!”
The next day, you and Harry were on your way to his childhood home. The drive was a bit long, but it was fun and filled with singing. You arrived there 45 minutes later and you were extremely nervous. You’ve met all of them except for Tom and Tessa. You didn’t even know he was related to the Spider-Man actor mainly because you didn’t know Harry’s last name and you’re not active on social media. And like Becca, you don’t watch movies.
Both of you got out of the car and brought your bags to the front door. Harry unlocked the door and both of you went into the cozy house. You looked around and immediately noticed the smell wafting through the house. It smelled of fresh baked cookies and cinnamon.
“Harry and Y/N are here!” Paddy announced and everyone went and greeted both of you. A familiar face smiled at you and said, “Hi, I’m Tom. Harry’s older brother.”
“I’m Y/N.” You smiled. “You know, you look familiar.”
“I do?” Tom furrowed his eyebrows.
“Yeah. The kid from ‘The Impossible’. You look like him. I don’t watch a lot of movies, but I remember faces of the cast.”
“Oh, that’s me, love.” Tom chuckled.
Your eyes widened, “Really?! Wow. That’s so cool! What’re you up to these days?”
“I still act and I’m in Spider-Man.” Tom said. “Do you really not know?”
“She doesn’t watch movies.” Harry said. “So she doesn’t know your movies.”
“Or movies in general.” You chimed in causing all of you to laugh.
“We’ll let you guys get settled in, then.” Nikki smiled. “Sam, show Y/N her room.”
Sam smiled at you, “Hello, m’lady. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“Hello and it’s been a while indeed.” You chuckled as you and Sam went upstairs to the spare room that was cleaned up especially for you. As soon as you got settled in, you went downstairs to hang out with everyone.
Your time with the Hollands has been wonderful. They never made you feel like an outcast, they treated you like you were one of them. Tom made you watch a lot of movies, especially the ones he was in. You and Sam cooked and baked together. You played with Paddy and Tessa. You went last minute shopping with Nikki and you helped Dom in brainstorming ideas for a new book.
It was now Christmas Eve and you were preparing dinner with Sam when suddenly you felt someone giving you a side hug. You slightly turned your head and smiled when you saw Nikki. She smiled back before pulling away.
“I’m sorry about that. It just felt right.” Nikki said shyly before helping out in the kitchen.
You never experienced a mother’s hug before. In fact, you’ve never experienced a hug before. It was nice for a change and it was at that moment you knew that Harry was right. His family was a family that you needed. Sure, they weren’t perfect and you were sure that they had arguments here and there, but you could see that they really took care of each other and loved each other. It was also obvious that they would do anything for each other.
As you sat down for dinner, you couldn’t help but think that you were on the outside looking in. Honestly, you didn’t mind observing. Laughter filled the table and warm smiles were shared as they passed the food around. And for the first time in your life, you felt like you belonged.
After a week, you and Harry were packing up again to go back to your apartment. “Thank you so much for having me. I’m truly grateful for it.” You smiled at them while you stood on their doorstep. Harry was busy loading up your things in his car.
“It’s no problem, Y/N.” Dom said.
“Yeah, and you’re welcome to stay here as well. We love having you around.” Nikki smiled. “It’s quite sad that you’re going to Singapore next year. If I had known that you were going next year, I would’ve told Harry to bring you every Christmas since you’ve met.”
You chuckled and said, “I’ll be keeping in touch, Nikki.”
“I know.” She said and stepped forward to hold both of your hands. “It’s just sad that I’ll lose someone who I think of as a daughter. While I had so much fun with you every time I visit Harry and while I especially had fun having you here for a few days, I have to let you go to have fun on your own in Singapore.”
Both of you teared up and hugged for a while. Harry cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry to cut this moment short, but we have to go, Y/N.”
You pulled away and wiped your tears, “Okay. Thank you again for having me!”
“You’re most welcome.” Nikki smiled, kissed your cheek, and wished you good luck in Singapore. You walked to the car and Harry stayed behind to say goodbye to his family.
“You should tell her how you feel, Harry.” Tom chimed in. “Y’know, before it’s too late.”
“I don’t feel anything about her, Tom.” Harry lied. Of course he felt something for you.
“I’m not stupid. I know the look of love when I see one.” Tom chuckled.
“He’s right.” Nikki said. “Listen to me; I’m your mum.”
“I’ll think about it.” Harry said. He bid his goodbyes once more before jogging to the car and getting in. The drive back home was just as fun as the drive going to his childhood home.
Harry didn’t know what to do. It’s been three days since you got back and he hasn’t seen you. You were too busy packing your things and giving some of your things away. Packing for Singapore really made you busy. Harry wanted to help, but that would make it real. He didn’t want it to be real. One thing was for sure, though. He promised to drive you to the airport.
As much as Harry hated it, the day he dreaded most finally came: your flight to Singapore. Some of your things were already shipped there while your other things were donated or sold. Harry parked the car and helped you get your things from the car.
He walked you inside and stopped when you reached a point where Harry wasn’t allowed in anymore. “It seemed like yesterday when you were moving into your apartment with just four boxes and a foldable mattress.” Harry said, making you laugh. “Now you’re going to Singapore with two big suitcases and a carry on. You leveled up.”
“Thank you.” You playfully bowed your head.
“Before you go, there’s something I want to tell you.” Harry said nervously.
“My flight’s boarding in five minutes, but sure. Tell me.” You said to him. He took a deep breath and looked in your eyes.
“Y/N, I love you.” He said seriously, your eyes going wide as saucers. You clearly didn’t expect that. “I’ve loved you even before and I’ll love you from here on out. I’ll support you and I’ll be here for you whenever you need me.”
“Oh, Harry.” You smiled sadly. “I love you too, but…”
“But what?”
“I can’t do this whole relationship thing. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“Aren’t you willing to try?” Harry pleaded, but you shook your head.
“It doesn’t always work, Harry. I’m sorry.” You said sadly.
Harry nodded and asked, “Will I ever see you again? Will you come back here?”
“I don’t know, but all I know is that I can’t stay here.” You frowned. You looked at each other with sad eyes and you leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Goodbye, Harry and thank you.”
“Goodbye, Y/N. Thank you too.” Harry pulled you in for a quick hug before letting you go. He watched as you walked away. His heart was broken, but something inside him told him that yours and his story hasn’t ended yet.
He was right.
It took him five months to think about it and it only took his cousin’s wedding to finally decide what he should do. Your last encounter with him at the airport didn’t affect your friendship which he was grateful for.
Harry didn’t even stay at the wedding long because he walked out after his cousin and her husband said their ‘I do’s’. He rushed home in a cab and packed his things and rushed to the airport to buy a ticket to Singapore. He successfully got a ticket and rushed to the gate where he needed to be. His phone rang and he hurriedly took it out of his pocket and answered it as he ran.
“Hello?”
“Harry! Where the bloody hell did you go?” Tom hissed.
“I can’t talk right now. I’m at the airport.” Harry said, out of breath from all the running.
“Airport?! Where are you going?” Tom shrieked.
“Singapore. I’m going after her, Tom.” Harry said with a smile. He got through the gate and is now boarding the plane. “I’m on the plane now.”
“How long are you staying there?” Tom asked.
“I don’t know, but I’ll let you know when I land.” Harry said. “Bye!”
“Wait!-”
Harry hung up before Tom continued speaking. Harry got seated and in truth, he was excited to see you. He could almost imagine the look on your face when you see him. Hours later, his plane landed in Singapore and after a few minutes of getting off the plane and finding his suitcase, he hailed a cab and immediately told the cab driver where you lived. He remembered that you weren’t working today and he was so happy.
Harry paid the cab driver when he arrived at your apartment building and he was nervous. He got out of the cab and went into your building. He searched for your apartment number and was elated when he saw it at the end of the hall. He grinned and knocked on the door and waited for you to answer.
You opened the door and gasped when you saw him. He smiled shyly and said, “Hi, there.”
“Hi Harry.” You smiled brightly and pulled him in for a tight hug. He pulled away after a minute and you asked, “What’re you doing here?”
“You said you couldn’t stay in London, so I came to you.” Harry grinned. “Although, I have to go back after two weeks because I need a visa if I’m staying here with you and-”
“Shut up and kiss me.” You smiled and pulled him in for a long awaited kiss.
* * * *
𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @sufwubi @abrielleholland @purplepizza-summerrain @marshxx @lizzyosterfield @justanamesstuff @croissantwriting @blueleatherbag @euphorichxlland @givebuckyhisplumsnow
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @justasmisunderstoodasloki @allyz @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @theonly1outof-a-billion @piscesparker @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess @beequeen8020 @justafangirlduh @sarcasticallywitty15
#harry holland#harry holland imagines#harry holland one shots#harry holland imagine#harry holland one shot#harry holland x reader#harry holland x y/n#in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh
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WINTER SPICE
Jungkook and reader spend their fifth Christmas together.
“Come here,” Jungkook let out a little laugh as he opens his arms for her to walk into; he pulls her beanie down so it covers her ears and places a soft kiss on her forehead.
“Is it always this cold?” She asks as she shivers, they’re waiting for a taxi to turn up. Jungkook insisted they get a taxi, the weather is too cold to be walking home in.
“It is always this cold,” Jungkook laughed at her little pout, leaning down quickly to give her a soft peck on her lips; not before doing a quick check to see if they’re being watched. They aren’t, but she knows the risks. “You say the same thing every year.”
“I do not,” She pouts, she sticks her lower lip out as Jungkook lets out another chuckle.
“Five years together, you think you would have gotten used to how cold South Korea could get,” Jungkook replies, he watches as the car they hired pulled up.
“You say that every year,” She giggles as she lets Jungkook pull open the door and waits for her to climb in, as she passes him she sneaks a quick kiss on his cheek as a thank you.
It doesn’t get any easier, she thinks to herself as she makes herself comfortable in the backseat of the private hire car they have (it’s not really a taxi because Jungkook is too famous for an everyday taxi) the life that has built together, have shared together is a one of constant overlooking of shoulders and standing close but not too close because they can’t bring up suspicion, can’t have the wrong person ask the wrong question because it puts so many things at risk. They are not fragile, she knows that, but it does not mean one strong push of a question that shouldn’t be asked couldn’t shake the foundations of what they achieved.
When it was twenty nineteen and they met unconventionally in a lift neither of them was supposed to be in that got stuck and bonded over the fact that maybe they both hated the winter months because really nowhere should be that cold;
“Got to respect Mother Nature though,” Jungkook spoke after a lull in the conversation.
“You do,” She nodded her head, “Respect yourself and the earth, the rest comes after.”
It just so happened that they both loved the late Summer nights, where the weather was still hot enough to enjoy outside but you could feel the autumn air creeping in. She had said it felt like she was experiencing a warm hug of a loved one she missed.
Jungkook told her six months after dating, when she laughed at that comment he heard bells ringing and that is how he knew. She didn’t really believe him at first but the more she knew Jungkook and the more she fell in love with him, the more she believed him.
“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook asks as he slams the car door shut, saying a quick hello to their driver and moving to pull her closer to his body. “You’re pouting which usually means you’re thinking hard about something.”
She let out a little snort as she moved so her head was leaning against Jungkook’s shoulder as they made their way towards the district Yongsan-gu, the Christmas lights were just starting to go up around Seoul and while Summer is her favourite for many reasons, winter in Seoul has as special places in her heart.
“I’m thinking about when we first met,” She snuggled in closer to Jungkook let out a snort of his own.
“Ah yes, in a lift we weren’t supposed to be in,” Jungkook let his fingers crawl down her arm before linking them together.
“Pancakes or waffles?” She asked the first time she held out her hand for Jungkook to hold. “Do you hold your hand with your fingers laced together?” She said as she demonstrated what she meant, locking their fingers together tightly “Or you do you hold them palm to palm.” She unlocked their fingers and held Jungkook’s hand palm to palm.
“Waffles, obviously,” Jungkook replied, quickly linking their fingers back together, “Always waffles.”
“I always feel bad,” She commented as she watched the lights pass by. November had brought a cold wind to the air this winter; there had been a national debate on what day the first snow would be, “I felt like I was keeping you from something.”
“No,” Jungkook laughed a little bit, “The only thing that made sense that whole day was you. I can’t describe it when we were locked in that lift; it felt so small and so compact but the moment you started speaking, the way your voice washed over me like a calmness I can’t describe; I just knew you were meant for me.”
“Sap,” She laughed softly before leaning up to press a kiss into Jungkook’s cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Jungkook pulls her back down to his embrace, “I love you so much. Every year it gets bigger and bigger and sometimes I’m a little worried about what to do with all this love I have for you.”
She doesn’t respond, not because she doesn’t know how to but because she knows Jungkook likes to tell her that she’s it for him, it’s always kind of been the same, from their one year anniversary to now.
They’re lying together, chest to chest, watching each other as their breathing starts to slow and their bodies start to cool. She hasn’t managed to look away from Jungkook’s eyes, they’re as dark as the night sky but they shine like they have their own universe wrapped up in them.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook whispers softly, he doesn’t wanna break the spell of what they have going on right now. “I love that I get to see you like this.”
“What? Hair a mess from the way you pull at it and lips puffy,” She let out a little laugh, she’s laughed more this year than she has ever before, she’s come to realise.
“No,” Jungkook shakes his head, his left-hand moves to cup her cheek, he leans down and places what can only be described as the softest kiss in the world onto her already kiss bitten lips. “You’re the softest in the mornings and just as we go to bed, when your alarm goes off you hit snooze two times because you can’t stand odd numbers, something to do with the fact you were born on an even day, you wake up so slowly”
She takes a deep breath, listening to Jungkook as he speaks about what he’s managed to notice.
“You go to bed, with the softest smile on your face no matter what day you’ve had. It doesn’t matter how long it has been since we shared a bed you’ll always welcome me back with such love and heat that it makes harder to leave each time and I know we’ve only been doing this a year and that can be a scary confession for some people but I need you to know that I think I’m in this forever.”
“Mr Jeon,” The taxi driver’s voice pulled her back out of her memories, “We have arrived.”
“Thank you,” Jungkook replied, double-checking that there is no one following them before opening the door, he quickly pushes some notes in the division of the front of the car. “Hope your night goes well.”
Once out of the car, they walk up to the lift that is hidden under the apartment building that BigHit rent for the boys. When Jungkook first entertained the idea of her moving to Seoul and living with him, he had to tell her about the living situation he was currently tied to.
“So you all live in an apartment building?” She asked as she munched on some lettuce, they were currently sitting in a restaurant in London; Jungkook had come out to visit her after finding out he had some time in between concerts.
“Yeah,” Jungkook replied, he fiddled with the cutlery that was sat in front of him trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say, “I know it is weird, seven young men living together and working together like a lot of people don’t get it.”
“It’s not weird,” She cut him off, she licked her upper lip to get the food that was there, “If you all get on well and you’re each other families then it is not weird. If it brings you comfort to be close to them and have them within touching distance, then it is not weird. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, then they are the weird ones.”
Jungkook was pretty sure he loved her even more then.
“Do you know what you’re getting the boys for Christmas?” She asked as they made their way up to the Penthouse floor, Jungkook had mentioned earlier in the night that most of them had decided to stay in and chill after a week of hard promotion for an album that comes out in a little over two weeks.
“I don’t think we’re doing presents this year,” Jungkook said as he pulled her into his embrace, moving the pair of them so she was stood in front of him as he leaned against the lift wall, he buried his face in the space between her neck and shoulders breathing her scent in for a moment, “I think it’s because we’re getting older.”
She couldn’t help the snort she let out and the little giggle after it, Jungkook was pretty sure that it was his favourite sound in the world. His arms tightened around her waist as they rode higher into the sky.
“You may be getting older but that has never stopped you from buying presents,” She commented, she pulled away as she heard the ding to signal that they had arrived.
“Jin is nearly thirty-three,” Jungkook commented as he reached down to lace their fingers together, “We should stop buying them.”
“Age doesn’t matter,” She argued as they walked into the shared space, “Presents are for all ages.”
Jungkook turned to argue but saw the room was full of people that he didn’t expect.
“Oh look,” Taehyung called out once he saw the pair, “It’s the happy couple.”
Jungkook tutted, “Please we know you’re jealous.”
“Of who?”
“Me,” Jungkook reeled off not missing a beat with their banter.
“I can’t argue with that,” Taehyung concedes quickly, winking at the girl next to Jungkook as she moved around the sofa to sit next to the second youngest. She tapped him on the shoulder as she brought her bare feet under her to keep them warm. “Where did you both go today?”
“Went for food,” She said as she opened her arms for Jungkook to snuggle into them, it took a while for her to be comfortable with physical touch, especially around other people but they made it five years into this and communication was always key with them.
“I just don’t like people touching me,” She argued, Jungkook had managed to find the one flaw Y/N hated about herself, the one this she wanted to hide from him forever, “I don’t know why I’m like this, I’m sorry!”
There were tears before she knew there were tears.
“Hey, no,” Jungkook is down on his knees and hands on her face wiping away tears before she could realise, “You do not need to say sorry, there is nothing wrong with it Y/N.”
She sobs for a few more minutes before Jungkook continues;
“I’m sorry if I was too strong with it,” Jungkook lowers his head so he can meet her gaze. “It wasn’t fair for me to push you too quickly. We’ve only been doing this for a few months. I should have known better. Should have spoken about it.”
She sniffed at his words, tears starting to slow down as she listened to him.
“Baby if you don’t like public displays of affection then that’s okay, it’s not a no for me.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” She sniffed hard, “It’s more that I’m not fully comfortable with it.”
“Well, we can start slow,” Jungkook spoke, his thumb rubbing circles into her skin, “We can go at your pace always.”
“Did we lose you there?” Taehyung’s voice brought her back to the present, he leaned over Jungkook to look at her with concern.
“You didn’t,” She smiled, eyes full of happiness as she turned to look at Jungkook, “I’m right here.”
“What are you guys doing for Christmas?” Taehyung asked the couple, he watched on fondly as Jungkook leaned further back into Y/N’s embrace.
“We’re staying here this year,” Jungkook answered, he pulled her hands around to his chest where he continued to play with her fingers, “It’s our fifth year together at Christmas and we had kind of wanted to have it to ourselves, no rushing around to find time for others you know.”
“Mum’s not keen but I can’t be bothered to fly out to England right now and a chill Christmas is exactly what we need after the dress of this year,” She replied laughing a little bit as she thought of the year they had.
“3...2...1… HAPPY NEW YEAR,” the crowd cheered around them, shouts and screams and wishes of well-being for the new year ahead. She had been standing with a crowd when she felt Jungkook pull her into his embrace.
“Happy 2024 baby,” He kissed her softly on the lips, “Here’s to another year filled with love.”
“Happy new year!” She giggled as she pulled away from him to look at him, “Can you believe this year will be our fifth year together.”
“Mmm,” Jungkook kisses her again, “Time really does fly when you have fun,”
“What do you think the year will bring?”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook confesses, “I’m not bothered, I just want us happy and healthy and full of love.”
“Agreed baby,” She leans up to kiss him “You and me forever.”
It’s not until a few months later, in the middle of March when it happens.
There’s a phone ringing that pulls Y/N out of her sleep, she rolls over with a groan and pushes her head into Jungkook chest, fingers pinching slightly at his abs.
“Baby, your phone,” She mumbles into his chest, lips grazing against his skin. “Please answer it before I launch it against the wall.”
“Okay,” He mumbled, he groaned slightly as he moved to the side to pick the object that was disturbing their peace so much. “Namjoon what the fuck have you seen the time.”
She let herself close her eyes, falling asleep at the sound of Jungkook. She was almost asleep when she heard the tone of his voice change.
“What do you mean have I been leaking information about us?” Jungkook sounded harsh, a cruelness to his voice that she had never heard before. “Neither of us has been talking to the press Namjoon, c’mon how could even ask that!”
“Hey,” She pushed herself up onto her elbows to hover over Jungkook, his eyes snapped to her as she looked at him, “Take a deep breath baby, let Namjoon talk and we will figure out what’s going on.”
“I know what’s going on!” Jungkook replied harshly, “Someone leaked out fucking pictures at Dispatch.”
“Okay,” She took a deep breath, “Firstly I will not be spoken to like that so please watch yourself, secondly there is no need to get angry at Namjoon it isn’t his fault and thirdly, okay we will deal with together.”
“I just wanted something that was mine,” Jungkook said after a moment had passed, “I just wanted you as mine before anyone else found out.”
“I’m always going to be yours, baby,” She soothed, she ran a hand through his soft hair, “Nothing will ever change that.”
“What’s on your mind?” Sammi asked as she plonked herself next to Y/N in the boys' shared living room. “You look like you’re thinking hard.”
“I’m just thinking about the start of this year,” She sighed in her reply as she moved to face Sammi, Jungkook had moved to the dinner table where food had been set out.
“Tough start,” Sammi agreed “But you both made it through and you’re here.”
“I know,” She said, she let herself move into Sammi’s space; resting her head on the blonde’s shoulder, “It’s just been such a year and now it’s coming to an end is a little bittersweet.”
“True, but it’s no 2020” Sammi replied, “No year could get worse than that.”
“I know he still gets anxious sometimes when we’re out and it’s frustrating that I can’t do anything about it.”
“Hey,” Sammi takes hold of Y/N’s hand, “You can’t think like that at all, you’re doing so much for him just being there for him and if he needs more he’ll come to you.”
“He just wants a quiet Christmas this year and that’s not like him at all,” She confessed, “He usually likes to be around either of our families and drinking too much and falling asleep on the sofa before getting up to play games.”
“I know, Yoongi was telling me,” Sammi tucked Y/N’s hair behind her ear, “But you both need a break and Christmas is such a good time to take it.”
“I just want him to be happy” She looked over to where Jungkook was eating noodles with Taehyung, listening carefully to what Jimin was explaining to them.
“And he is happy,” Sammi promised, “I have not seen him unhappy around you.”
“Sometimes I do wonder though,” Y/N admitted, as she turned to look back at her friend, “If I’m doing enough,”
“Of course you are,” Sammi confirmed, there was never any reason to doubt what Sammi had said.
“This year,” She paused, thinking of the right words to say before continuing, “With the photos being leaked and the idea that I could have been ruining Jungkook’s career and then the other idea that it could have potentially ended us as a couple, I just want this year over with.”
“Babe,” Sammi soothed as moved forward so she could look at the other girl directly in the eye, “There was no way you could have ruined Jungkook’s career, you know that deep down. Just like you also know that there isn’t anything that man wouldn’t do for you, so I highly doubt he would have ended your relationship just like that.”
“Scary thought isn’t it,” Y/N croaked, trying to keep her tears at bay, “The idea that I could have lost everything.”
“But you didn’t,” Sammi reminded her, “I would have kicked him in the balls if he let you walk out that simply.”
“You’re a good friend,” Y/N smiled at her, “I’m always glad I got to meet you.”
“Okay so you need to know the basics,” Jungkook said as he brought her into the building for the first time, “There is Namjoon, who is our leader, Seokjin the oldest, Yoongi is the second oldest, Hobi is third, Namjoon is fourth oldest but he always comes first in the fan chants because he’s the leader, then there is Jimin and Taehyung and finally me. Some of them have partners-”
“Jungkook, baby, breathe,” She said, cutting him off, she takes a hold of his face in between her hands. “Who has a partner that I need to know about?”
“Well currently at the moment, it’s Yoongi,” Jungkook replied, he looked down at his shoes before continuing, “Sammi, they’ve been together for about two years now, they do long distance at the moment which suits them fine but I think Yoongi is going to ask her to move across.”
“Do you think she will?” Y/N asked as she watched the numbers in the lift go higher and higher, nerves rattling around in her stomach.
“I think so,” Jungkook replied, “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” She smiled, the doors opened up and what she had expected to be utter calmness was absolute chaos.
“I promise you I didn’t take it!” A voice shouted as they stood by the table in the middle of the room, “Why would I take it when I could buy one of my own!”
“WHY do you do anything you do, Taehyung?” The blonde-haired boy shouted at who she assumed as called Taehyung.
“Wow” Taehyung threw his hands up in the air, “And you call yourself my soulmate.”
“Guys calm down,” A taller man walked into the room, phone glued to his hand, “Jungkook said he was bringing someone important back for us to meet and if they walk into hearing you both yell at each other it isn’t going to make a very good impression.”
“Namjoon,” Jungkook’s voice rattled through the room making everyone in the room pause as they turned to look at him.
“Jungkookie!” Taehyung yelled as he brought him into a hug.
“Okay!” Came a female voice, “I was told I might finally have an ally in this madhouse!”
“Sammi you say that like Yoongi doesn’t give you everything at a drop of a hat,” Jungkook laughed as he wrapped a hug around Sammi.
“Sammi, this is Y/N,” Jungkook reached back to pull her forward so he could make the introduction properly, “Y/N this is Sammi, funniest person I know.”
“Finally, I’ve been acknowledged as my rightful place in this group,” Sammi smiled.
“Don’t act like you didn’t text me to say that!” Jungkook laughed.
“Ah!” Sammi acted shocked, “I did no such thing.”
The laughter went on into the night and Y/N has never ever been more glad she yes to a boy she probably should have said no to.
“It’s snowing,” Jungkook said as he wrapped his arms around Y/N who was standing at the floor to ceiling windows, “That means it’s the first snow of the season.”
“And on Christmas Day,” She hummed as she turned around in his arms to kiss him softly.
“Are you okay?” He asked softly as they began to sway a little bit.
“I am,” She answered, all the worries she had a week prior had disappeared, here with Jungkook in his new apartment that he bought as a gift to her.
(“It can’t be right now,” Jungkook said as they walked around, “But it can be a someday?”
“Yes,” she cried a little bit, “It can be someday.)
They’ll eventually grow older together, children will make their way onto the scenes; their friends will have old and new loves and the world will keep on turning but for now, hidden away in the city of Seoul were two people celebrating their fifth Christmas together.
“I love you,” Y/N whispers and Jungkook would whisper his response and she will swear down to that very day that for a moment, world peace had actually been restored.
#jeon jungkook#jeongguk#jeon jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook fanfic#jeongguk imagine#jeongguk fanfic#jungkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfic#christmas#jungkook is in love#jungkook is a romantic#bts fanfic#bts imagine#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jeongguk x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook imagines#jungkook fanfiction
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The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter Two (Kaz)
Warnings: cursing
Chapter One
He never made mistakes. Never went into a situation that he wasn't fully aware of. Yet, somehow, he had managed to fuck this up before it had even begun. Inej would never let him hear the end of it should she find out. He didn't plan to have anyone ever find out that he had messed this up.
How in the hell was he supposed to have researched the royal family's voices? He hadn't thought they'd come in any sort of contact with any of them. Everyone knew the youngest son had been shipped out, running from the rumors of being a bastard. Not much was known about the princess beyond her golden hair and the engagement. The engagement that no one thought would work.
It was lucky that Kaz had known that much.
She hadn't seemed upset about his mistake. It would probably not stand out in her mind for long. Or perhaps it would. The second this job was over, she would know exactly who had done it. Well, she would know a false name and a false accent. He had never been an actor, had never thought of it. But he had put on an accent that held no trace of Ketterdam, the city had morphed him all those years ago and hadn't released its hold since.
Well, Pekka hadn't.
He scowled to himself for thinking about any of this. It was not the time nor the place to worry about this. If he worried about nearly getting caught for a split-second delay, he would never get through the rest of the plan.
Kaz schooled his face into neutrality, not quite calm but not quite any other emotion. A perfect mask to wear in order to blend into his surroundings and the people that wanted to be seen. The people who cared nothing for the second army but for the king and his approval.
Saints it was annoying to be around these types of people. They were worse than the lowlife thugs he had made into his weapons. These people knew that their money, their influence allowed them power over people. A power that did not get punished.
He didn't care about them, didn't care that they ruined everything for the people who had not been born into that privilege. His focus was on something else entirely. Making damn sure every rat in the Barrel knew just who he was and just what he was going to do to all of them.
He walked into two men, causing one to spill wine on him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The one who had spilled his wine yelled at him. His eyes were bloodshot, enough to let Kaz know that he had already helped himself to several cups. Just as he had hoped.
"My apologies," Kaz allowed his face to burn, hating every second when he acted like a fool. "I was just-"
"Just acting a fool." The other stated with a slight smirk.
"You can't be here in that," the first told him with a snarl. "Go down to the laundry and get a fresh uniform." He motioned to a corridor just to the left, which would lead down to the barracks and just where he needed to be.
Kaz nodded quickly, turning on his heel and marching down the corridor as though he were an embarrassed soldier. Besides running into the princess, it seemed as though everything were going according to plan.
Just as it always did.
Kaz Brekker had made a living on making plans, on being one step ahead of everyone and everything. He would not be caught unawares by anything. Not if he could help it. He would have to get smarter while he was in this damned palace. While there were unknown variables.
Normally the unknown did not bother him. But that princess had left him unnerved. What in the hell had she meant when she had said she'd see him on the training field? That didn't sit right with him.
Why would a princess be around a training field? Or guards besides the obvious reasons? Yet, she seemed shocked that she hadn't known him. That could lead to danger. Perhaps he would have to find her again, lie again. Although that also seemed to be a mistake.
Focus, he heard Jordie's voice in his head, in the depths of his very soul. Don't worry about her, worry about the job.
He didn't know if it was what his brother would have actually said. Part of him knew there would have been laughter, teasing. His brother would have been so glad that Kaz had gotten spooked by something, something that was not a magic trick or a mechanical dog. That or he would be told off for thinking about anything other than their business, that daydreaming had gotten them into enough trouble.
Trouble always seemed to follow Kaz Brekker. A dark cloud hanging over an even darker boy.
He shoved his thoughts, his hopes, and his fears as far down as he possibly could. Past the knots in his stomach and the thought that they wouldn't get away with this. That they would never get away with this. He shoved that down as he stepped into the laundry room.
It was empty. Everyone at the winter fete or taking the opportunity to just go off and do whatever they pleased for once. Everywhere was like the Barrel if one looked hard enough. People just seemed more inclined to wait until dark in places that were not Ketterdam.
He grabbed two more sets of uniforms, one that would be big enough for Inej and another for the Conductor. He knew that Jesper would be well on his way to getting their ride out of there.
At least he hoped so. Jesper had a tendency to do whatever he wished. There was nothing reliable about him. Nothing that they could do to keep him from being reckless, to keep him from doing anything to still his hands.
It was enough to make Kaz sick to his stomach. And yet, there was no better shot in Kerch. Perhaps not in any of the known lands. For that reason alone, he could not be allowed to leave Kaz's side. Even if he could be the most annoying person that he had ever had the pleasure, or displeasure at times, of meeting.
He tried not to think of this, instead focusing on keeping himself silent. It wasn't as hard as one would assume. He'd always had a way of stepping quietly, even in his boots. He knew the value of being silent.
Even if he'd never be as good as his wraith.
As he headed back up the steps, he found himself missing his cane. It was a luxury that he sometimes could not afford to have. He hated that he had any sort of weakness. It was something that others could use against him. He had once worried how he would spin it to his advantage. He had worried for about thirty seconds before realizing what a good mask it was. No one expected much from the boy with a cane.
It had helped him rise so quickly. Helped him gain the title of Dirty Hands. It was better that way. To be feared. No one would ever be able to take that away from him.
Unless he kept making these stupid mistakes.
"Is it my size?" Inej whispered to him as she slipped over to his hiding spot, quiet as the wraith she had been named for.
"Of course it's your size," he stated as he shoved the uniform into her hands. "I know your size. I wouldn't make that mistake."
"I can't be sure of that. Not after last time," her eyes sparkled with mirth as she spoke. He had to try very hard not to roll his eyes.
"Yes, well," he grumbled once before she was off without another word. He didn't want to know just how she did that. Sneaking up on him once had been enough for him.
Kaz didn't like to be taken by surprise. He didn't like it when people got the best of him. It reminded him too much of Jordie, of what Pekka had done to the two of them. He had no chance in hell to keep himself sane if those memories kept resurfacing. Even if they did fuel the rage that burned inside of his heart.
That rage kept him alive, kept him building and building his empire. He would run the Barrel. He'd run Ketterdam. It was only a matter of time. Then he would take his revenge and make Pekka Rollins regret the day he had ever crossed him. The day he had taken Jordie.
He shoved it down, shoved that fire as far down as he possibly could as he handed off the other uniform. He didn't care about what the Conductor wanted during all this. He already knew that the man could not be trusted. It was a good thing that he didn't trust anybody.
Not even the Crows that he had brought with him. Anyone could be bought, anyone could be holding secrets.
He certainly was.
Kaz headed back up the steps, the warm light washing over his features and causing them to appear less striking. His cheekbones were not as sharp in this lighting, softer and more innocent. It was almost humorous how much a simple light could turn him from a monster into who he truly was.
A seventeen-year-old boy who had lost all his hope.
He did not contemplate the ways the light lit his face as he moved to blend in with the other guards. He hung back, in a long hallway where people were milling about and laughing over stupid jokes as they watched either the Grisha or the few couples that had braved the dance floor.
She was on the dance floor, her arm draped around a man who looked a few years older than her. The coloring of his hair and the way he was murmuring words that made her nose scrunch almost imperceptibly made it obvious who he was. His theory was only proven once they turned. The medals pinned to his chest and the nose that matched hers were stronger hints to who he was.
Crown Prince Vasily Lantsov.
He was far too close to Kaz for any sort of comfort but he couldn't leave. He was supposed to be a guard. Someone who was supposed to keep the royal family safe. If he dared turn his back on the two in his eyesight, it would have looked rather strange.
But that didn't mean he couldn't spy on them. Maybe there would be something of use in their dance floor conversations.
Slowly, he made his way just outside of the doorway. He would have gone in had Inej not been lingering on the other side. Presumably listening as well, or just waiting to see the woman who had been proclaimed a miracle.
He didn't understand how she could believe in her Saints. How she could believe that anyone had ever cared about them. They had been dealt a hand that was beyond anything one of the Saints could have salvaged. It was a wonder they had managed to live this long. Yet, she still believed. He heard her whisper prayers as she touched her knives, each named for one of the Saints. He didn't say anything. As long as she did what she needed to.
"Really, Annie," the nickname suited her although it was obvious by the very slight twitch of her left eyebrow that she didn't enjoy it. "I gave you clear instructions."
"I wanted to dance," he could barely hear her words, spoken so softly that they floated in the rosemary-scented air. "Nikki wouldn't have minded."
"Nikolai," the venom in his voice could not be hidden by the soft tone, "wasn't instructed to watch over you."
"No, he did it because he wished to."
"Annie, please," his eyes had softened. Kaz wondered how often they had this conversation. There was tension among the royal family. Tension that seemed no one in the world could see. They weren't watching close enough.
"Don't patronize me, Vassy," she looked him in the eyes. Something that he doubted many did to the would-be-king. It was something that he did not think many could get away from it. "I'm a grown woman. I can take care of myself."
"You shouldn't be able to. Nikolai never should have allowed you to learn any of it."
"It is not his fault." The way she spoke cemented the idea in Kaz's mind that Nikolai Lantsov was the greatest of the three siblings. A sister would not look at her eldest brother with fire in her eyes otherwise. Unless they had a very different relationship than he was used to.
"Fjerda will not allow you to do this, you know?" Vasily kept his expression neutral but Kaz could see the exhaustion in his eyes.
"No, but at least I will be able to protect myself." The fire had dwindled, replaced by something else. Something that was not quite fear but not quite anything else either. It was wrong. It wasn't something that he expected to see during a royal celebration. Not something that he ever expected to see in a royal's eyes.
The dance ended, Anastasia giving her brother a respectful curtsey before she made her way to the dais. Her head was held high, he could see small, sparkling gemstones in her braids. She walked with purpose, knowing her way in the world like she had never once questioned it. Like she had never worried a day in her life about a damn thing.
The hushed conversation was the only proof that something was hidden there. Something that he would never in his life find out. He did not know how he felt about that.
The not knowing was worrisome for Kaz. He had no reason to care about it. But it was information. Information that he could potentially use for some reason or another. Information that could lead to him running Ketterdam, to crushing Pekka Rollins. Even if he was unsure how that was possible.
He tried to push this from his mind, tried to keep from worrying about anything other than Alina Starkov. They had a job to do. One that would risk losing Inej, losing the Crow Club, losing everything that had ever mattered to him. He wouldn't let the Barrel ruin him. He had made that mistake once already.
He tried not to think of the princess. But even he could not stop noticing how she walked to her mother's side. It was as though gravity held no hold on her. She walked and danced as though her feet floated in the air. How would she compare to the Wraith if given the right tools?
No one would ever live up to Inej or her standard. He had no need on anyone else who walked on the air, especially not someone who could not blend into a crowd.
Besides, it wasn't like he could entice a princess to join his crew. Nor would he want to. These thoughts were just his mind's way of refocusing, of getting ready for the mayhem that was more than likely going to start sooner or later. Not even one of his plans could go perfectly. Although, he did have a better track record than most.
The doors opened, the Darkling finally gracing them with his presence. A smile graced the man's features, causing a pit of unease to grow in Kaz's stomach. There was something about that smile that told a story he did not quite like. Ruthless betrayal lived within the Darkling. He would have never seen the signs had it not lived within him as well.
"Moi tsar," the Darkling bowed before the king. He nodded his head once to the other members of the royal family, his eyes going to Vasily more than once.
The king nodded to his great general, a look of pride in his eyes. A man with power and no clue what was happening in his country. It was a wonder that anything ever got done in Ravka.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the Darkling turned then to the crowd, that same smile on his face. "Too long has the Fold separated us from our brothers on the west. Too long have we lived in fear because of it."
The crowd murmured their assent as he motioned to the doorway to Kaz's left. A woman stepped through it. With dark hair and an almost shy smile, Alina Starkov did not seem to be anything remarkable.
Draped in a black and gold kefta, she painted the picture of a glorious summoner. One who could rival the royal women on the dais. She stepped to her own small stage, Kaz noticed how the Darkling helped her step upon it.
They had not counted on how close the Darkling and his newest treasure would have become. He should have thought of that. There had been so much revealed in that one touch that he worried he would have to fight the whole Second Army to get to Alina. It was not something he looked forward to.
"Alina Starkov," The Darkling spoke as his shadows took over the room.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up. His fingers itched for his cane. The steady weight of it would keep him steady, keep him from wanting to run in terror as the darkness surrounded him. He had never been afraid of the dark. But this was unnatural. It felt similar to something but he could not figure out what. That alone made him wonder about what in the hell this General Kirigin was hiding.
"Lead us out of the darkness," his voice was everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. He could hear Inej whispering prayers to the Saints under her breath.
A bright light shone from Alina Starkov. The Sun Summoner brought a ball of light into the middle of the room, lighting them all in washes of what looked and felt like bright sunshine. The shadows fled from it, scurrying on back to their master.
He didn't buy it for a second. He was certain there was a trick that he just could not see. Kaz had a hard time believing in Saints. He had a harder time believing in miracles. This woman couldn't be one of them. She couldn't be anything more than a lie. All of them were. Every single person in that room was nothing more than a lie.
Still, as the rest of the room began to fall to their knees and mutter the words 'Sankta Alina', Kaz found himself bending his knee and murmuring along with them. If only to keep up appearances.
He chanced a glance toward the royal family. The king and queen remained in their thrones but their children had both fallen to their knees. The princess seemed to be glowing in the Sun Summoner's light, her eyes bright with fervor for the Saint that would reunite their country.
It seemed as though even the royal family believed in false idols.
A cruel smile lit the Darkling's face as his shadows retreated. The smile of a man who had won. Kaz had seen it on several members of the Merchant Council, on several gang leaders in the Barrel. He had worn that smile himself. But seeing it in this room ... It meant something bigger than anything he could ever dream of was coming. He only hoped he and his Crows would be out of there before the real trouble came calling.
He watched as the general led his weapon off of the dais and out of the room. Inej gave him an imperceptible nod, the two beginning to trail him with two other guards. The ones they were replacing had been easy enough to knock out and replace. Ravka needed better trained guards, better trained people. It was no wonder the country was falling apart at the seams.
The plan had been to follow them as far as Alina's private chambers. But this was not the case. A man was brought past them, one that caught Alina's eye. Her brow furrowed and the Darkling had the others hurry her along while he went after the man. Kaz would have continued to follow after the Sun Summoner, but Kirigin had nodded his head towards him.
Fuck.
He motioned with his left hand for Inej to stick to the plan. He kept his spine straight as he followed the general, trying to ignore the hammering in his chest. There was nothing he could do but hope and pray that this went well. He didn't know who to pray to but he would.
He stood far enough back that he could not hear what was said between the Darkling and the man who was being held by the shoulder. He could, however, tell it was nothing good. Nothing that would bring peace.
"Take him. Don't let her see," his voice was velvety soft as he spoke, sending a warning straight through Kaz. He knew not to trust silk and honey.
"Of course," the other guard said.
Kaz waited as long as he possibly could before he broke off without suspicion. He headed towards the meeting point, knowing that Inej would have grabbed the girl if she could. However, as he began to rush an alarm sounded from somewhere.
They had been caught.
#six of crows#grishaverse#shadow and bone#kaz brekker#kaz x oc#kaz x princess#kaz steals an emerald#ana x kaz#mobster x princess#nikolai lantsov#vasily lantsov#anastasia lantsov#lantsov emerald#lantsov oc#inej ghafa#jesper fahey#grisha netflix#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone fanfiction
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Day 1: Best Friends
Maribat War Day 1: Prompt: Best Friends
Third Person POV:
Tim Drake and Marinette Dupain-Cheng have been best friends for as long as they can remember. It all started when they were five years old. Tim had been running around Gotham at night pretending to be Robin when he found Marinette scavenging a dumpster for food and perhaps clothing.
“Hi! What are you doing in a dumpster?”
“Oh...I’m looking for food and maybe new clothes if I can find any.”
“How come? Why in a dumpster?”
“Well, my parents died or left me before I was born...I’m not really sure but I’ve been a street kid all my life. I usually find everything I need in dumpsters.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t usually get to spend much time with my parents, they’re always busy but they let me do whatever I want and I usually got everything I need at home.”
“I’m sorry too, it’d probably be worse to have neglectful parents rather than dead parents.”
“It’s alright, I still got a roof over my head right? That’s why I feel bad for you. You don’t seem to have a roof over your head.”
“Yeah, I don’t but I’m used to it.”
“Hey! I got an idea! Why don’t you come stay at my house?”
“But wouldn’t that be intruding? And I don’t even know your name or anything about you.”
“Oh, I forgot about that. Well, I’m Tim Drake! My parents are Jack and Janet Drake, though, they’re always busy so you probably won’t see them around very often and I’m trying to figure out who Batman and Robin are!!!”
“I’m Marinette! I don’t know who my parents are or what my last name is and I think you’re pretty cool!”
Throughout the days Tim and Marinette spent together they grew closer, they were almost attached to each other by the hip. The only time you wouldn’t see the two together would be when they went to sleep, had to change or went to the bathroom. They named each other as best friends and swore to never leave the other’s side.
One day when Tim was sick and couldn’t go outside Marinette started wandering around Gotham again. Eventually it turned night and she started to head home, though, she got stopped by three adult men who looked to be drunk and in their mid-thirties, Marinette, at the time was 8.
The men were clearly about to rape her so she got into a fighting stance and got ready to teach them not to mess with 8 year olds, right before she punched the middle guy someone swooped in and knocked them all out. The mysterious person patted down the men, seemingly looking for something. Once the mysterious person found what it was Marinette discovered that this person was most likely only there for stealing valuable items from drunk men.
Although she was right the mysterious figure turned to her and looked her up and down, seemingly looking for signs of injury.
“Are you okay little kitten?”
“Uh yeah I guess I just stayed out too late, who are you?”
“I would’ve thought you would’ve known but I’m Catwoman, and you little kitten seem like you can be quite the feisty one.”
“Well I mean I was about to punch those guys but you got here before I got the chance.”
“How do you feel about me adopting you and you being my little kitten sidekick?”
“Um...I don’t want to leave my best friend. Can I talk to him about it first?”
“Of course little kitten, just meet back here tomorrow if your friend is okay with it.”
“Okay!”
And with that Catwoman left Marinette. Marinette walked back to her home and thought about what Catwoman had said. She went to her room and got ready for bed, contemplating about whether she would even want to accept her offer. A few minutes of thinking about it she decided that she did want to accept it and went to bed.
The next morning Marinette woke up and did her usual routine, grab an outfit for the day, take a shower, go to the bathroom, get changed and meet Tim out in the hallway.
“G’morning Tim!”
“Morning Bean!”
“So last night I ran into Catwoman and she wants to adopt me but I immediately remembered our promise so I wanted to run the idea through you before making a final decision about letting her.”
“I say go for it, we’ll still see each other all the time right?”
“Yeah!”
“Then go for it!”
“I will! I’ll let her know that you said that!!!”
They continued talking while walking down the steps and on the way to the kitchen for breakfast. Once in the kitchen they grabbed their usual breakfast foods, Marinette got her usual froot loops and Tim got his usual yogurt.
The day went on as usual until it was 8pm and it was time for Marinette to go back to the alleyway to meet with Catwoman. She grabbed a good amount of clothes and her favorite pair of shoes along with some slippers and put them in her backpack. She left and said goodbye to Tim, telling him that she’d see him the next day. Little did they know that they wouldn’t see each other until they were 15 due to Catwoman training Marinette to fight and to flirt for when Batman got a new Robin.
It was the day after Catwoman had adopted Marinette and Tim was waiting in his usual spot where he met with Marinette, however, she didn’t show. He went back inside, disappointed that his friend ditched him. He decided to try again the next day, and the next, and the next. This went on for three weeks before he decided to give up. Years passed by quickly and Tim was now thirteen and in the beginning stages of growing into an adult. One day he wandered around Gotham City and bumped into Bruce Wayne, the older man saw something in the young boy and decided to adopt him. Tim’s parents agreed to the adoption, though, they weren’t paying much attention.
When Bruce adopted Tim he told him about all of his nightly activities and asked if he would like to become Robin or to watch everything from the batcomputer. Tim chose to be Robin and Bruce gave him two years of training for it. Eventually it was time for Tim to go out as Robin for the first time and it ended up being against the Riddler. However, a few hours after the Riddler incident there was a robbery going down because of Catwomen who had broken into a jewelry store and stolen thousands of dollars worth of diamonds...at least that’s what she made them think. In reality she just wanted to see Batman and introduce her little kitten to Batman’s new Robin. And it worked. Catwomen’s new apprentice was going to use the tricks that Catwoman had taught her with flirting and everything but the minute she saw Robin she knew it was her old friend, Tim Drake. The one who she would trust with her life with no hesitation, the one she missed oh so much, the one that she would give anything just to see again.
“Long time no see Marinette.”
“I missed you so much, I thought I was never gonna see you again.”
“Me too, that day after you got adopted, and you didn’t show up I- I was devastated. And when you didn’t show up any time at a later date I just gave up all hope to see you again.”
“So...you’ve grown taller.”
“And so have you…”
“This is awkward so I’m uh- I’m just gonna go.”
“Yeah..OH WAIT!”
“Yeah?”
“Can we exchange numbers so we can still be friends?”
“Oh uh sure.”
The two teens exchanged numbers and went on their way, deciding that it was too awkward to continue being in the same place. Soon though, they ended up texting each other every night, they grew closer to each other yet again and the next time they met they ended up becoming inseparable.
One day, Selina decided to bring Marinette to the Wayne’s so she could meet her adoptive mother’s close ‘friend’. When they arrived at the Manor they were greeted by Alfred who welcomed them in. He led the women into the living room where Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson and Tim Drake stood. When the youngest of the Waynes saw Marinette he immediately ran up to her and hugged her.
“Um- Tim, buddy why- how do you know Selina’s adoptive daughter?” Dick asked his younger brother.
“Oh, we used to be best friends when we were little until I got adopted by Selina.” Marinette answered for him.
“Yup, she’s my best friend who also happens to be addicted to caffeine and an insomniac just like me,” said Tim with a grin on his face.
Dick and Bruce wanted to get to know Marinette better so everyone socialized for hours until eventually the Waynes had to kick Marinette and Selina out as they had to patrol Gotham soon.
~Time Skip~
It had been a year since Marinette and Tim got reunited and they were hanging out at Selina’s house and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Soon, however, there was a knock at the door. Marinette opened the door to see who it was and surprisingly it was child services.
“Your name is Marinette Kyle correct?”
“Yes that’s me.”
“I apologize for any inconvenience but you’ll have to come with us because Selina Kyle is not fit for having a minor under her care. A couple in Paris, France has taken interest in adopting you so you will be moving there to be under their care for the next two years until you are a legal adult, you will then be able to move back here if you wish to do so.”
“Wait- WHAT?!?! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!!!”
“I’m afraid I can and it’s going to happen. Please come with me. And, young man if you could please inform Ms.Kyle of what has happened here.”
“I- but- she- she’s my best friend, my only friend you can’t take her.”
“Sir I’ve already explained everything please don’t make me do it again, now once Ms.Kyle arrives back home please inform her of what has happened here today.”
The man grabbed Marinette by the arm and took her with him, he drove to the airport and watched as she went into the plane.
After a long flight Marinette was finally in Paris. She got off the plane and the french couple who adopted her walked up to her and asked if she was Marinette. She said yes and they took her with them to their home, it was a bakery on the bottom floor and an apartment on the top floor. They took her to the room they set up for her, it was insanely pink but she didn’t say anything about it. A few days later she was enrolled in Francois Dupont Highschool, though she made many friends it wasn’t the same as Tim. Years passed and she moved back to Gotham, when she did, however, she couldn’t find her long-time best friend.
Eventually she did find Tim and they became closer than ever before, she met his other two brothers and his sisters and became their honorary sister. It was a few days before Wayne Gala and Tim still didn’t have a date, he told his coworkers who were going to be there that he would have a date but he still didn’t...until he got the best idea, ASK MARINETTE!! And so he did. He asked her to pretend to be his girlfriend for his coworkers and like the good best friend she is, she said yes.
They went to Wayne Gala pretending to be dating and managed to fool everyone, however, during the middle of the Gala when Bruce was introducing everyone, the Riddler decided to show up. He chose Tim to give his riddles to and told him that if he got any of them wrong that he would kill him. Marinette was just hoping that he was going to get them all right.
First Riddle, he got it correct.
Second Riddle, he got that one too.
Third Riddle, he got it again.
Fourth Riddle, and again.
He got them again and again and again. Eventually he was on the 15th riddle, the last one. At this point everyone was holding their breath. He answered it...but he got the answer wrong. It was wrong and before Marinette could even comprehend the fact that he got it wrong, Tim was dead. The Riddler had shot her best friend, he was gone, forever. Her best friend since she was five years old was gone. She would never get to make any more memories with him, all the time she had with him was over, she had too much to say and not any time to say it. He was gone.
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road trip!
inspired by this post
please enjoy seven unsupervised teenagers crammed into an SUV for a three hour trip
I might need to write a part 2 with the actual camping trip??
but right now I need a nap so badly. so, so badly. I hope you like this though!!!
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Hotch flipped on the lights and both boys immediately groaned, pulling their covers over their heads. “All right, everybody up, we gotta go,” he said.
Derek rubbed his eyes and held his up his phone. “It’s five in the morning, Hotch,” he complained. He dropped his phone on his face. “Dammit.”
“We want to be on the road before six, so let’s go,” he said.
Spencer sat up, his hair sticking up on the side of his head. “I just fell asleep an hour ago,” he complained. “Can I sleep a little longer?”
“You can sleep in the car,” Hotch said.
Spencer scowled. “I can’t sleep in the car.”
“You fall asleep in the car all the time. Get up.” Spencer dragged himself out of bed, rolling his eyes. “Are you guys packed? Do you need any help?”
Derek glanced around his chaotic side of the room. “Uh...I’ll get it done,” he said.
Hotch sighed. “Just hurry, okay?” he said. “We gotta go. I’m going to go check on the girls.”
He closed the door and headed for the stairs. Getting a four-day weekend for teacher in-service meant they had plenty of time on their hands, but they didn’t want to sit around on campus or go to Dave’s house again. Somehow they had decided on making the three hour drive to the Mammoth Cave national park to go camping, which had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now that he was in charge of getting the four youngest kids ready to go when the sun wasn’t even up, he was kind of regretting it.
He made it down to the third floor and knocked lightly. Penelope whipped the door open. “Good morning!” she said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
He blinked. “Okay, that sounds only mildly creepy,” he said. “How are you guys doing?”
“Pretty good,” JJ said. She gestured towards her backpack and Penelope’s duffel bag on the floor. “We’re just about ready, I think.”
“Thank god,” Hotch said. “You’re definitely ahead of the boys.”
“You didn’t see that coming?” JJ said, grinning. “Let me guess, Derek hasn’t packed anything and Spencer’s cranky.”
“Yeah, you got it,” he said. He looked from JJ in her ballet school tank top, Nike shorts, and sneakers to Penelope. “Hey, Pen...are you sure that’s what you want to wear?”
Penelope looked down at her floral print sundress and strappy sandals, then back up at him. “Yes, why?” she asked.
He gestured at her collection of impractical accessories- hair clips shaped like pandas, chunky bead bracelets, dangly earrings. “You do know it’s going to be a three hour long car ride and then three days of camping, right?” he said.
“Yes, why?”
JJ sighed. “Don’t worry, Hotch, I’m on it,” she said. “We’ll meet you downstairs in just a little bit.”
“What’s wrong with my outfit?” Penelope demanded.
Hotch backed away. “Yeah, I’ll let you handle it,” he said.
He jogged back up the stairs and knocked on the door. “Okay, you guys, how’s it going?” he asked, opening the door without waiting for them to answer.
Derek tossed a hoodie onto his pile in the middle of the floor; he was at least out of his pajamas and dressed in a St. Thaddeus football shirt and basketball shorts. “We’re getting there,” he said. “I’m almost packed.”
Hotch looked down at the pile. “Good luck getting all of that into your bag,” he said dryly. “Where’s Spencer?”
“Shower, I think,” Derek said. “He’s packed, though.”
Hotch picked up Spencer’s backpack easily, but the duffel bag offered more resistance. “Oh my god, what does he have in here, a dead body?”
“Probably books,” Derek said.
“Does he really need this many?” Hotch asked. Derek shrugged. “All right, fine. Hopefully we can get all of this to fit between the two cars. Just hurry up, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” Derek said, digging through his drawers.
Hotch stopped by his room to pick up his backpack, then carried everything down to the lobby. The girls were already there with their things; JJ had gotten Penelope to change into denim shortalls and a pink tee shirt, and her accessory collection had been reduced to a large ruffled scrunchie. “You guys ready?” Hotch asked.
JJ yawned. “Yeah,” she said. “Where’s the boys?”
“Derek’s still packing,” Hotch said. He pulled out his phone and checked the group chat. “James is in the parking lot, Dave’s almost here. Nothing from Alex or Emily, but I’m sure they’re up already.”
“Alex will be up, Emily probably snoozed her alarm six times,” Penelope said.
Something thumped down the stairs. “All right, we’re ready,” Derek called, dragging his bag down the steps. Spencer trailed behind him, his hair still damp and dripping on his NASA tee shirt.
“You’re sure?” Hotch said. “Everybody has everything? Clothes, toothbrushes, pillows, blankets? James is bringing sleeping bags and air mattresses, but everybody should have their own stuff.” He turned to Spencer. “You have your blanket?”
Spencer’s face turned as red as his shorts. “I don’t need it,” he said.
Hotch frowned. “You’re sure?” he said. “But you-”
“I don’t need it, I can sleep without it,” Spencer said, crossing his arms. “Can we go?”
“Yeah, yeah, we probably should,” Hotch said. “Let’s go, everybody grab your stuff.”
Derek sidled up to him. “I packed the kid’s blanket,” he whispered. “It’s in my bag.”
“Oh, thank god.”
The sun was just barely beginning to peek over the horizon as they made it out of Lincoln House. Hotch hoisted Spencer’s bag of books on his shoulder. It was a long walk out to the parking lot, but James and Dave were both there, their cars parked next to each other. “Hey, y’all,” James called. “Who’s ready for a three-hour drive?”
Dave groaned. “Not me,” he said.
“I have my license, you can let me drive,” Hotch said.
“You’ve only had your license for six months,” Dave said, patting the hood of his brand new Honda Pilot protectively. “She needs someone more experienced for a long haul. Maybe James will let you drive his shitbucket.”
“She’s not a shitbucket, she’s just...well loved,” James protested. “Besides, she’s got some...quirks. Really, nobody but me should be driving her.” He jiggled the latch of the hatchback and opened the trunk; his Nissan Versa was jam-packed with camping equipment and igloo coolers. “All right, toss your stuff in!”
“It’s nice of your parents to let us borrow all their camping stuff,” Penelope said.
James took her bag. “Yeah, we’ve gone camping every summer for as long as I can remember,” he said. “Hope you guys are ready for this. I’m not too sure how Dave is going handle it.”
“I’ll be fine!” Dave said. He jabbed his thumb towards Alex and Emily as they crossed the parking lot towards them. “I’d be more worried about ‘poor little rich girl Prentiss’ over there.”
“What about me?” Emily asked. She wasn’t wearing her usual eyeliner and she’d traded her Docs for more sensible sneakers, but she still wore artfully ripped jeans and a red plaid flannel tossed over her black tank top.
“Nothing,” Dave said quickly. “You guys ready?”
Alex handed over her bag; she’d swapped her usual librarian dresses for a sleeveless button up top tied at the waist, shorts, and hiking boots. “Definitely ready,” she said. “Have we decided who’s riding where?”
“Well, James and I are driving,” Dave said. “I claim Hotch as my copilot, you should be James’s.”
Alex shrugged. “Fine with me,” she said. “So everyone else is going with you?”
“I’m not sitting in the back middle!” JJ said, immediately tapping her finger to her nose.
“Nose goes!” Penelope said, and Emily and Derek copied her. “Ha! Spencer’s backseat middle.”
Spencer blinked. “Wait, I zoned out for a second,” he said. “What happened?”
“JJ and I went first, so we get the captain seats,” Penelope explained. “You’re sitting in the back with Derek and Emily, and you have to sit in the middle.”
“What? No!” he protested. “I want to ride with James and Alex.”
“No, there’s not enough room!” Emily said quickly. “And you’re the littlest and the youngest, anyway, you have to sit in the middle.”
Spencer scowled. “That’s not fair, we should do it again,” he said. “I don’t want to sit in the back middle.”
“Too late, caro, you lost,” Dave said. “Maybe you can ride somewhere else on the way home.”
Alex cupped his chin in her hand and kissed his cheek. “Three hours isn’t that bad,” she said. “Read your books and take a nap.” He scowled.
“All right, come on, everybody, let’s go, let’s go, it’s past six already,” Hotch said. “Get in the car, we gotta go.”
They piled into Dave’s car, squishing Spencer between Derek and Emily in the back. “I don’t understand why I can’t ride with James and Alex,” he said. “I could have fit.”
JJ twisted around in her seat. “We need them to spend some time alone,” she explained.
“Why?”
“Aren’t you tired of watching James pine after her?” Emily said.
“Pine?”
“He’s had a crush on her for three and a half years and he’s yet to make a move,” Penelope said. “I made him an extremely romantic Spotify playlist. I hope it works.”
“Wait, James has a crush on Alex?” Spencer said. Derek shook his head.
Dave backed out of his parking space. “All right, once we get to Auden’s Ridge we’ll stop and get gas,” he said.
“And snacks?” Penelope asked hopefully.
“And snacks,” Dave said. “But after that we’ll drive straight through to Mammoth Cave. I don’t believe in stops.”
“Oh, I seriously doubt that will happen,” Hotch said. “Have you met these kids?”
Dave tossed him his phone. “Just plug in the address to GPS and turn on the music, copilot,” he said.
The thirty-minute drive to town usually seemed long, but for once it went by quickly and Dave pulled up to a pump at the gas station. “Remember, we’re going to get actual food once we get the campsite set up and we can stop in town,” Hotch reminded them. “So don’t go too crazy.”
“Hotch, why are you even trying, you know they’re all going to buy their respective body weights in junk food,” Dave sighed.
Hotch sighed. “I know,” he said.
He tried to stay fairly sensible with his choices, but the other kids returned to the car laden down with snacks. “Oh my god,” Dave said. “Listen, if you guys spill anything, I will murder you. I will.”
“Relax, spaghetti grandpa, it’ll be fine,” Penelope said as she plunked down in her captain’s chair and cracked her drink open. “We’re all very well-behaved.”
Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Penelope,” he said. “Is that a Red Bull?”
She raised the can to her lips, regarding him over the rim. “Maybe,” she said, and she took a big swig.
“Oh, god, we’re all going to die,” Dave said. “Jennifer. If you get Cheeto dust anywhere, I will end you.”
“I’ll be careful, I promise!”
Spencer struggled with the cap of his chocolate milk. “Can somebody open this for me?” he said.
Derek opened it easily and handed it back. “There you go, noodle arms.”
“Hey!”
Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose. “Guys, we haven’t even gotten back on the road yet,” he said.
“It’s gonna be a long trip,” Dave said. “All right, everybody, buckle up.”
The first hour passed by without incident, and Hotch was just starting to think that maybe this trip wouldn’t be so terrible when Emily leaned around JJ’s seat. “Hey, when are we stopping?” she asked.
“In an hour and forty-eight minutes, when we make it to the campsite,” Dave said, glancing at the GPS. “Why?”
“I have to pee,” she said.
“Ask Hotch.”
“Hotch, I have to pee, can we stop?” Emily asked.
“We just stopped, Prentiss,” he said.
“I didn’t have to pee then,” she protested.
Spencer nudged her shoulder. “I’m trying to read and you’re covering the pages,” he complained.
Emily leaned farther. “Please can we stop?” she pressed.
“Maybe in a little bit,” Hotch said. “Just stop bothering Spencer.” Emily sat back with a scowl.
Derek wadded up his wrappers. “I wouldn’t mind stopping,” he said. “I’m out of snacks.”
“Jesus, Morgan,” Hotch said. “You ate all of that?”
“Yeah, and I’m still hungry,” he said.
“His trash is everywhere,” Spencer announced.
Derek thwacked his arm. “Don’t tattle!”
“I’m not tattling! I’m stating facts!”
“Stating facts just to get me in trouble!”
JJ glanced back. “No, Spencer’s right, it’s like a dumpster back here,” she said.
“Clean it up!” Dave said.
Hotch twisted around in his seat. “Penelope, can you stop kicking the back of my seat?” he said.
“I can’t help it,” she said. “I have to move. My legs just keep shaking and I can’t stop it, I just have to move or I might possibly exploded.”
“This is why you can’t drink Red Bulls in the car,” Hotch said.
“Or ever,” JJ added. Emily stretched out and propped up her right foot on her armrest; JJ pushed it off. “Quit it, Emily.”
“I’m squished back here with Spencer and his entire library, let me stretch!”
“It’s my armrest!” Emily stomped on the base of JJ’s seatbelt; JJ let out a piercing pterodactyl screech. “Prentiss, what the fuck!” she screamed.
“Cut it out!” Hotch bellowed.
They fell silent. Penelope’s leg stilled. Spencer turned a page.
“Dave’s trying to drive, stop screaming,” Hotch said. “Emily, leave JJ alone. JJ, no more dinosaur noises. Derek, pick up your trash, Penelope, stop kicking me. Spencer...you’re fine, just read your book.”
He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. It was peaceful again, quiet except for Dave’s road trip playlist. Maybe now the kids would fall asleep until they made it to the campground.
“Hey, can we turn the air up?” Emily asked.
“Yeah, it’s a little warm in here,” Derek added.
Dave fiddled with the dials. “Yeah, we can turn it up a little,” he said. “That better?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Spencer frowned. “I’m cold,” he said.
“How can you be cold? You’re squished in between us?” Emily said.
“I’m always cold,” Spencer said. “And there’s a vent right above my head. Can we turn it down?”
“See, now you wish you had your blanket,” Derek grinned.
Spencer turned red. “I don’t need my blanket,” he grumbled.
“You can cuddle with me,” Emily said, throwing her arm around his shoulders.
He pushed her arm away. “I don’t want to cuddle!” he said. “I’ll just freeze to death and read my book, okay?”
“How does someone so little get so angry?” Emily said.
“I’m not angry! I am stressed!” Spencer said.
“Stressed about what?” Derek asked.
“I’m sitting in the middle of your dumpster pile, and Prentiss is trying to cuddle me, and I’m very tired and I just want to read my book in peace!” Spencer said. “And you guys are squishing me!”
“Prentiss, Morgan, stop pestering him,” Hotch said.
“If you guys don’t stop, I swear to god, I will turn this car around,” Dave said.
Penelope abruptly popped her seat back, leaning directly into Derek’s lap. “What are you doing?” he said.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just got really carsick all of a sudden…”
“Okay, nobody is getting carsick in the new car,” Dave said. “Emily has to pee, Derek’s hungry, Penelope’s going to puke...Hotchner, text Alex and see if we can stop at a McDonalds or something.”
“Yeah!” Derek cheered.
“All right, all right, I’ll text her,” Hotch said. He glanced in the rearview mirror; Penelope’s eyes were closed but the rest of the kids seemed happy, except-
“Hey, Spence, what’s with the face?”
Spencer scowled. “I ran out of books,” he said, rubbing his eyes.
“All of them?”
“Yeah, I miscalculated how long it would take to get through all of them,” he said.
“Well, maybe you can sleep the rest of the way,” Hotch said.
“Yeah, then maybe you won’t be so grumpy,” Emily said.
“I’m not grumpy!”
Hotch checked his phone. “Yeah, James and Alex said they’re good to stop,” he said. “There’s a McDonalds coming up at the next exit.”
“Thank god, I need to get out of this car,” Penelope said fervently. “I’d be fine if it just wasn’t moving.”
James and Alex were already parked and waiting beside the car when they caught up. “How’s it going?” James asked.
“You try shoving seven teenagers into an SUV,” Dave said. “Well, six teenagers and a baby.”
“I’m not a baby,” Spencer objected.
Alex laughed. “That bad, huh?” she said.
“Hotch used the dad voice on us,” JJ reported.
“Oh, so it’s really bad.”
“Okay, you guys, stop,” Hotch said. “Let’s just go eat so we can get back in the car, okay?”
He was being optimistic, but he should have bargained on them taking their time ordering, he knew what he was getting into. Penelope had to be talked into ordering a Sprite to settle her stomach, Derek had to be talked out of getting a third breakfast sandwich, JJ tried to order six hashbrowns and nothing else, and Alex stopped Spencer from buying coffee and got him a hot chocolate instead.
Hotch settled for a hot coffee and an egg McMuffin and ate mostly in tired silence. “We don’t have too much longer to go,” James said, gathering up wrappers and empty cups and piling them onto a tray. “Hour and a half, maybe?”
“Yeah, and then we get to set up a tent and stay outside for three days,” Dave said. “I may have overestimated this trip.”
“Oh, it’ll be fun,” Alex said. “You guys will like camping. And this isn’t even really roughing it, they have real bathrooms at the campground.”
“I draw the line at shitting in the woods,” Dave said dryly. He checked his watch. “All right, kids, we should get back on the road. Emily- you better pee again, because I’m not stopping anymore.”
“All right, all right, I heard you,” she said, getting up from the table. “Come on, Garcia, if you’re going to puke, now’s the time.”
“No, I’m okay,” Penelope said. “But I’m never drinking Red Bull in a car again. Ever.”
“Thank god,” Hotch said.
“Alex, do you have any books I could borrow?” Spencer asked. “I finished mine.”
“I’m afraid not, darling,” she said. “You really read all of yours already?” He nodded. “Ah, you miscalculated.”
James fished his phone out of his pocket. “Here, you can borrow this,” he said. “We’re using Alex’s phone for the GPS and music so I’m not using mine. Play games or something?”
“Games?” he repeated skeptically.
Penelope snatched it out of his hand. “Not to worry, I know just the one,” she said. “James, can I download him something? Don’t worry, it’s a free one.”
“Yeah, go for it,” he said.
Hotch picked Spencer up out of his chair and set him on his feet. “What was that for?” he complained.
“You weren’t moving, and we need to get back on the road,” he said. He brushed Spencer’s hair off his forehead. “How much sleep did you get last night?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “An hour and a half, two hours maybe?”
“Jesus, no wonder you’re in such a bad mood today,” Hotch said. He caught Derek’s eye; Derek shot him a thumbs up back. He propelled Spencer forward. “Come on, let’s go.”
They got back into the car slowly this time, everyone full and a little sleepy. Spencer climbed into his middle seat without an argument, James’s phone clutched in his hand. “You really need to try to take a nap,” Hotch told him. “You can’t function on two hours of sleep.” Spencer sighed and his lower lip dropped in a pout, but he didn’t say anything.
Derek tossed Spencer’s favorite blanket at him. “Since you said you were cold,” he said.
He brightened. “You packed it anyway?”
“Hell yeah I did,” Derek said. “I know you think it’s babyish, but seriously, kid, nobody cares. We care more about you being in a bad mood from not sleeping.”
Spencer hesitated, then accepted the soft ivory blanket, hugging it to his chest. Derek climbed up into the seat beside him and buckled his seatbelt.
Penelope leaned forward in her seat. “Dave, can we please play something a little more exciting?” she wheedled. “I made you a showtunes playlist.”
“Please, no,” Dave said as he navigated the car back onto the interstate.
“I worked so hard to make it!” she said.
“Let her listen to it at least for a while,” Hotch said. “I mean...she did work hard to make it.”
Dave sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But you’re not allowed to sing along.”
She sang along, loudly and with great passion.
Luckily, the chaos in the car had begun to settle. Spencer played games on James’s phone, frowning in concentration, while Derek put on his headphones and Emily leaned her head back to take a nap. JJ just stared sleepily out the window, watching the hills roll by.
It was just past eleven when they pulled into the campsite behind James’s hatchback; the backseat occupations had begun to perk up, although Penelope was still singing along to the Hamilton cast recording. “All right, everybody, we’re here,” Hotch said. “Who’s ready to put up tents?”
“Not Spencer,” Derek said. The youngest of their group was fast asleep, his head resting on Derek’s shoulder, his blanket clutched his his chest and James’s phone threatening to slip from his grip. Derek gave him a gentle nudge and pried the phone from his hand. “Hey, pretty boy, we made it.”
“Don’t wake him up,” Hotch warned.
“Okay, but I have to get out of the car too,” Emily said.
Hotch beckoned Alex over. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Can you get him?”
Alex peeked into the backseat. “Oh, no,” she smiled. “Okay, Derek, you get out first. Try not to- oh, never mind.”
Derek jostled him on his way out of the car and Spencer raised his head, blinking sleepily. “Sorry, pretty boy,” he said.
Alex leaned towards him. “Hi, we made it,” she said softly. “Do you want to get out of the car? You can go right back to sleep.”
He nodded, unclicking the seatbelt and climbing over to her with a barely concealed yawn. Hotch helped him out and he wrapped his arms around Alex’s neck, allowing her to pick him up. “Oh, baby, it’s okay,” she said, rubbing his back as he mumbled sleepily into her shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”
“I’m tired too, does this get me out of setting up the tent?” Emily asked.
“Absolutely not,” Hotch said. “Get out of the car.”
“I want someone to carry me and tell me I can take a nap.”
“Prentiss, I swear to god. Get out of the car.”
#criminal minds fanfiction#caitlin writes things#au: patron saint of lost causes#david rossi#aaron hotchner#james blake#alex blake#jj jareau#penelope garcia#derek morgan#emily prentiss#spencer reid#spencer is just a grumpy baby who needs a nap
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