#cassie is a shrug as like her first books not really so far

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Currently reaching that point of making PJO OC's where I debate which ones would go evil lmao.

[liaromancewriter]

Day One (4/6)

Series Premise: What happened when Cassie met Sienna? Small moments that defined their friendship.

Book: Open Heart Characters: Cassie Valentine (F!MC), Sienna Trinh Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,085

A/N: Submission for @choiceschallenge-may2023 prompt "bedroom"

Sienna Trinh knew she should ask for a life preserver when she was drowning. She had great friends and wasn’t lacking a supportive community. And therein lay the problem.

Her friends were brilliant.

Elijah was already on the fast track to becoming a renowned researcher. Aurora made practicing medicine look effortless. Jackie was likely the best chief resident the hospital had seen in years. Bryce was supremely confident and an excellent surgeon. Rafael was practically Superman.

And Cassie. Well, her best friend had graduated top of her class at Hopkins and, despite tough competition, maintained her spot as the number one intern. She had been doing double duty as an internal medicine resident and a junior diagnostics fellow for two years.

None of them struggled while studying for their board exams. They indulged her in group study – the cat café had been inspired. But they could’ve taken the exam the next day and passed it comfortably.

Sienna wasn’t sure she could say the same about herself. After her meltdown last week and the mix-up with her baking and medicine textbooks, she’d tried to follow everyone’s advice and just chill. But panic was setting in again, with the exam now only a few hours away.

She stared at her bedroom ceiling and blew her overlong bangs out of her eyes. She wanted to scream, but it was the middle of the night, and her roommates were asleep.

What made her think she could do this? Be a doctor? Maybe she should quit before she made a fool of herself.

The soft knock on her bedroom was so unexpected that Sienna gripped the comforter's edge and wondered if she could hide under the covers. An intruder wouldn’t knock, she thought with a mental shake. Her nerves really were on edge if her first thought was of intruders invading their apartment.

She shoved the covers aside, switched on a bedside lamp and padded across the floor to pull the door open a crack. The cobwebs cleared when she saw Cassie on the other side with a tray of cookies and milk.

“Hey,” Cassie whispered. “I had a feeling you’d be tossing and turning, so I come bearing gifts.”

Sienna beamed and swung open the door, stepping back to let Cassie inside.

“How’d you know?” she asked, closing the door and joining her on the bed.

They sat cross-legged on the covers facing each other, the snack tray in the middle. Sienna broke off the corner of a double chocolate cookie — her midnight indulgence — and nibbled, uncaring of the crumbs.

“You’ve been stressing about the boards for months,” Cassie told her. “I know you tried to rein it in this past week, but it can’t have been easy. Now with the test only a few hours away…”

Sienna twisted her lips wryly as Cassie shrugged.

She didn’t need to say the words. Her friend knew her well enough to suspect stress was never far behind. She was one of the few people who knew how much Sienna hated standardized tests and that she struggled with them.

“If it helps,” Cassie continued, “I’m stressed about it too, but I try not to show it. I’ve felt a target on my back since intern year and the rankings. Like, people are waiting for me to fail and do it spectacularly.”

Cassie sighed, polishing off her cookie and sipping milk, lost in thought.

“I’m not immune to the gossip about me, Si,” she said. “Some people believe I used Naveen’s cure to weasel my way onto the team over other worthy candidates. And others think Ethan deliberately goes easy on me. So, if I don’t do well—"

“Who cares what small-minded people think?” Sienna protested, brows furrowing. “And Dr. Ramsey is always hardest on you. Even when we were interns, he assigned you all the PITAs. I asked Zaid once if I could take one of them off your list. But he told me the orders had come straight from the top, so no substitutions.”

Cassie stared at her, amused and surprised. “Why did I not hear about this before?”

Sienna shrugged. “The point is, you earned it. I have zero doubts you’re gonna ace the test.”

“You know, I came to cheer you up, and I’ve made it about me,” Cassie said, tapping one finger against her lips, considering.

“I’m glad you did,” Sienna said. “It helps to know you have doubts just like I do. Sometimes, I look at you and wish I had the same self-confidence.”

Cassie made a distressed sound, but Sienna rushed through the rest, needing to get the words out.

“I was ready to quit in intern year,” she said. “I wasn’t exactly a great mentor to Mitch. I get too hung up on what others think of me. And when I compare myself to the Roomies, I’m not sure I measure up as a doctor in quite the same way.”

Cassie’s long and silent scrutiny made Sienna uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to change the subject, but her friend held up a hand to stop her.

“You’re an amazing doctor, Sienna, and always have been,” she insisted. “But being a doctor is not your identity, and never has been. You brought us together in this apartment to become a second family. You cheer each of us on. Feed us breakfast, packed lunches, and cookies.”

Cassie smiled. “You remember everyone’s birthdays and always buy the best gifts.”

Eyes swimming with tears at the heartfelt words, Sienna looked down when Cassie’s hand covered hers.

“As to medicine, I’ve never met a more compassionate and caring doctor like you, except for Ethan. The kids in the pediatrics ward would riot if you didn’t visit them daily. They can feel what we all know. That you’re the best of us. No matter what happens tomorrow, that will never change.”

Sienna wanted to speak, thank Cassie, but the lump in her throat wouldn’t let her talk. Tears fell unheeded down her cheeks. Her smile was watery as she squeezed Cassie’s hand in silent acknowledgment and gratitude.

Cassie took out her phone. “Now, because I know you, I will help you with last-minute exam prep. Hopefully, that’ll put your mind at ease. You know the drill.”

Sienna nodded and inwardly laughed as Cassie pulled up the browser app on her phone. She glimpsed the familiar logo of an exam prep website and took a deep breath.

“Ready, Dr. Trinh?” Cassie asked, lifting one eyebrow in challenge.

“Fire away, Dr. Valentine.”

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

All Fics & Edits: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @takemyopenheart @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[cassiehayesx]

@witchyveritty​:

Veritty couldn’t remember the last time she had practised probably one of her favorite ways of relaxing. As many people used to cook, torture those around them or simply live a bad people, for the witch right on the second place, after reading a good spell book, came archery. It was something she had learned in her years walking over the Earth, accepting her true nature and trying to find out what kinds of stuff she exactly loved to do. At first, of course, she wasn’t that precise but after some time, she picked up the hang of it. And did so pretty fast, if she had to add. So now, after another arrow had landed with a cutting noise right into the bulls eye, instead of reaching out to recharge like people normally did, after a flick of her wrist and a short spell, the next arrow landed perfectly into her open palm. “I really suggest you to move out of the way of my target unless you want to turn into my next one”, too sweetly remarked the redheaded witch, just then looking over at the person who dared to interrupt her. Who knew if she was actually kidding. “Unless that’s what you want, of course.”

Admittedly, Cassie knew better than to go running around in the middle of archery practice. Growing up, she’d had her hands in a long list of activities, archery included, and she was well aware of how much even a training arrow to the butt could hurt--and this very put together redhead did not look like she was training. She knew better, and yet--well, Cassie Hayes was nothing if not confident, sometimes to the point of arrogance, and when the ball she was kicking around went too far, veering into the woman’s rage, she’d taken a chance. She was fast, after all, but... Not fast enough to not be noticed.

An eyebrow arched at the woman’s words--a threat or a joke, she couldn’t tell, but either way she did not look frightened. She laughed instead, bounced her ball from toe to knee and back again almost absently as she regarded the other woman. “Real sweet of you to care so much about what I want,” she said, and for just a second she seemed to focus on the bow, the arrow, the woman’s grip, something sparkling in her eyes as if she wanted to take the challenge, see if she was up to the task of outrunning this woman’s sharp eye--only a second though, and then she shrugged, kicked her ball up into the air to catch it, and said, “Reckon I’m good though,” as she stepped out of the way. “She’s a beaut,” she added, with a nod at the woman’s bow. “Mind if I stay and peep the next shot?”

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Smut, you say 👀

You're this cute, kinda innocent woman that gets the help of this handsome gigolo to not be as... innocent.

💕 The Professional: Chapter 1 💕

Chapter Two

Rating: PG-13 (for this chapter only)

Pairing: Danma Takeru (Hatter)/Reader (she/her

Tags: flirting, suggestive conversation, alcohol consumption, smoking, kissing

“Well, darling,” he says, voice low and smooth and so much closer than before, “I think it’s high time we got to the heart of the issue. The root of the root and the bud of the bud, as it were.”

“Uh,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this but very much enjoying his simple touches, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering,” he clarifies, pausing to let out a soft sigh, “when you’re going to give in and kiss me.”

Notes: This is a kind-of sort-of AU—in the show, Hatter references his involvement with the host club business, and mentions that he “would do anything” to be the best. Although host clubs do not usually involve sex work (as far as I know), I believe that he would definitely offer that “off the books” in order to win over his clientele.

You’re nervous. Nervous and jittery and—oh, dear, there’s a lot of feelings going on in here, and all of them seem to fall under the umbrella of ‘mild to moderate discomfort.’ Not that feeling uncomfortable is anything new; in fact, there are very few times where you happen to feel truly comfortable outside of, say, the warmth of your bed or the soothing calm of a late-night bath. Places where you feel safe. Places where you can let yourself breathe and be, unhindered by expectation.

The place where you currently find yourself—this strange little pocket of a room in the buzz and bustle of a Friday-night Kabukicho—is full-to-bursting with expectation. From the polished wood floors to the glittering gold chandelier that hangs from the center of the ceiling, there is an inescapable sense of opulent whimsy that is tinged pink with a blush of sensuality. There are even fresh flowers on the table in front of you—a vase of ranunculus, blooming bright and orange like a green-stalked bunch of tiny setting suns.

Something like an itch tickles your sweat-damp palms, making you ball your hands into tight fists around the fabric of your skirt. Oh, you should have worn something different! Something sexier, maybe, with a deeper neckline and a shorter hem, that hugged the shape of your body as opposed to ghosting over it in fluttering chiffon. Not that you actually, you know, owned anything like that, but—

The pop! of a champagne cork makes you jump. Hell, you feel like you’re about to pop, too, from the nervous energy boiling and swelling in your chest. It’s so very difficult not to fidget, to keep your toes from tapping out a frantic little rhythm on the rug.

Looking back, you realize that the paperwork had been the ‘easy’ part. Not that it had been particularly easy—who knew there would be an application process for this kind of thing?—but it was less stressful to fill out a (surprisingly comprehensive) questionnaire in the privacy of your own home as opposed to this agonizing waiting.

And what, exactly, are you waiting for?

Why, you’re waiting for him.

His name is Takeru—or, at least, that’s what he’s asked you to call him. Whether or not it’s a stage name is difficult to tell; but what you do know is that it sounded so very nice in the deep clear of his voice. The only thing that sounded better was your name, which he said in a gently-sultry half-whisper that made you feel…many thing, and not all of them innocent.

In a devastatingly well-tailored suit of lipstick red—a vibrant pop of a color you would so often consider buying at the makeup counter but always put back—it’s nearly impossible to look at anything but him. A small collection of rings glisten from his fingers, most of them delicate little things that wink a tiny gleam when the light hits them just right. The dizzying black-white-gold pattern of his shirt is unbuttoned just a smidge too low, offering you a tantalizing view of his chest.

And although his back is toward you, concocting some kind of magic at the bar cart along the far wall, you can all but feel the warm-dark of his eyes on you. Oh, he has beautiful eyes, dark and warm with the glitter of laughter—or perhaps mischief, if the situation calls for it. A slim nose leads down to a shapely mouth, handsomely framed by a neatly-trimmed beard and mustache.

Also, his hair—oh, that man has a great head of hair.

Aesthetics aside—he has been undeniably lovely. Slipping the coat from your shoulders when you walked into the room, fingertips skimming the slope of your shoulders with only the barest of touches. Offering you a glass of champagne (“Yes, thank you”) as he leads you to sit on the green velvet settee, hand hovering above but never touching the small of your back. A serene smile on his lips as he talks, as he tells you that your dress is lovely (“Blue is definitely your color, darling”) and letting out an airy chuckle when you mention that this was as good occasion as any to dig it out of the back of your closet.

It is impossible to ignore the way he is so very provocative—subtly so, in a way that makes you second-guess whether his flirtations had happened at all. Did his eyes really linger over the shape of your legs, or was he simply taking a moment to admire your (new, very cute) shoes? Did his fingertips slip over the curve of your shoulder as he removed your coat, or were you just imagining it?

His gaze tiptoes over your shape as he sits down beside you, two flutes of pink-tinged something in hands.

“I’ve taken the liberty of making something a little special,” he says, “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as he hands you one of the glasses, “it…it looks nice.”

“Know what it is?”

“Uh,” you say after a moment of silent deliberation, “Maybe alcohol?”

He huffs a short laugh at your half-joke—a rather polite response, and it manages to soothe the bubble of regret that had risen up your throat the moment you’d said it.

“You’re not wrong. More specifically, though, it’s a Kir Royale—or, my take on one, at the very least,” he watches the bubbles fizzle to the top of the glass, “I find myself more or less incapable of keeping with convention, even when it comes to alcohol.”

“Well, uh,” you say, “it’s pretty. I like the color.”

You taste the drink, bubbles like tiny fireworks tickling over the surface of your tongue. There is a dry bitterness, no doubt from the champagne, but it’s softened by a fruity sweetness. Something familiar, something that reminds you of summer and shaved ice and walks along the river and—

“Cherry,” you say, half-lost in the hazy-warm memory of days gone by—until you remember where you are and snap back to reality, “it’s, uh, it tastes like cherries.”

“Very good. Usually, the drink calls for creme de cassis, but I used Kijafa instead. It’s a dessert wine from Denmark, made from cherries,” his brow raises just a smidge, “I thought it appropriate, given the situation.”

And it takes you a minute to understand what he’s talking about. Cherries. You. Ah. A rather crass comparison, but accurate all the same.

“Oh,” you say, picking a very uninteresting spot on the rug to look at in an attempt to avoid meeting his eyes, “I, uh…”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he adds, “In fact, virginity isn’t even a real thing. Completely made up. Means nothing, really.”

There is a kind of lag—he’s speaking, you know he’s speaking, but it takes your brain a few extra seconds to figure out what he’s actually saying. It’s strange, hearing someone talk to you so openly about sex. Not unwelcome, by any means, but you need a moment (or two, or ten) to adjust.

“That being said,” he continues, as if he’s discussing the weather, “just because it doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of life doesn’t mean it’s nothing to you.”

He’s fishing. He’s fishing, and you kind of want to take the bait, but…well, you’re finding it difficult to get your thoughts in order. He’s the very picture of calm, all while you’re floundering over a simple conversation.

“Apologies if I’ve overstepped,” he says, taking a slow sip of his drink, “I thought you might prefer to talk it over a bit. ”

“No, uh, you’re fine,” you answer quickly, “I’m just…I thought the paperwork kind of covered all that.”

“More or less,” he answers, “however, I’ve found that the person who fills out the forms and the person who ends up sitting across from me are not always of the same mind.”

He reaches a hand into the inside of his jacket and pulls out a silver-plated cigarette case. Although he is not gentleman enough to ask your permission to smoke, he is gentleman enough to offer you a cigarette before taking one of his own. You decline. He shrugs and quickly snaps the case shut before laying it on the table.

“In fact, it’s not uncommon for my clients to have a complete change of heart the second they walk through the door,” he continues, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, “Or, sometimes later on, for that matter. Depends on the person.”

Cigarette held between his teeth, he retrieves a lighter from his right trouser pocket. With a sharp little snick, he ignites it, pulling the little orange flame towards his face and hiding it behind his hand to let it catch.

“Really?”

You watch him intently, the way his eyelids flutter closed at the first inhale. The way his lips pucker around the filter and release, the red-pink sticking slightly as they pull away and let smoky white flow out and fade into the air.

“Really,” he confirms, “once, I had a client step inside, take one look at me, and promptly walk right back out. Never saw them again, which is fine. I’ll never fault someone for doing what’s right for themselves.”

“Are you, uh, trying to talk me out of it?”

“Not at all. Just making you aware of your options,” he says, “Doing anything for the first time is scary. Driving a car, swimming in the ocean, traveling abroad—sex is no different.”

“Yeah, well,” you respond, “you also get to do most of those things with your clothes on, so…”

“Depends on who you’re with.”

You can’t help but laugh a little.

“Well I still want to…you know,” you answer, “uh, do it. The…the sex part.”

“I’m happy to hear it.”

“Yeah, well, you’re supposed to say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he insists, “I can’t imagine anyone being upset at the thought of having a pretty thing like you in their bed.”

“I’m not—“

“Don’t,” he interrupts, taking on a tone that brokers no arguments, “I will suffer many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. You are an attractive woman and I refuse to be told otherwise.”

“Sorry, I,” you say sheepishly, “I guess I just…wasn’t expecting you to…like me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his cigarette and takes another long, slow drag, “You’re very sweet. A bit shy, maybe, but I happen to like the shy ones.”

And there is something about the way he says it, the way his voice wraps around the words—oh, there are implications to those words, and you find yourself growing warm at the thought of what exactly those implications could entail.

You sip your drink. He smokes. The quiet between you is almost comfortable. Maybe it’s the alcohol working it’s bubbly magic, but you’re starting to feel a bit more at ease in this strange little place.

Moreover, you’re starting to feel a bit more at ease with him. The thought of kissing him crosses your mind, then doubles-back and crosses it again. Oh, that sounds nice. He would be good at it, too; starting gently, mouth pressed soft and sure against your own, and then just the tiniest tease of his tongue—

“And there you go, biting your lip again,” he says, snapping you out of your impromptu fantasy, “You have no idea how sexy that is, do you?”

He is sporting a devilish grin—not only is he aware that you had been daydreaming about him, but he’s relishing the fact that he was able to catch you so off-guard.

“Didn’t even realize I was doing it,” you admit with a shrug. But you can’t help but feel a thrill at the thought of being considered ‘sexy’—you never really let yourself feel that way, but now that it’s happening…oh, it’s nice.

“It’s absolutely delicious, darling. Makes me wonder what else you do when you’re turned on…”

And he’s got you—like a knife held under your chin, his sharp gaze pins you in place. He is impossible to avoid. Not that you particularly want to avoid him—there’s something irresistible about this man, something that you can’t quite name but definitely want more of.

It’s scary.

It’s exciting.

“I’m,” you say with a nervous chuckle, “not really sure, myself. Guess we’ll have to, uh, figure it out together.”

His gaze darkens. He takes one last lungful of nicotine before stubbing out his cigarette.

“I suppose we shall.”

And he’s moving now, sliding himself down so that he’s closer to you. He stops when there is barely an inch of space between the outside of his thigh and your own. His right arm has draped itself over the back of the sofa, the fingertips of his hand now skimming the skin of your shoulder in loose, mindless sweeps.

“Well, darling,” he says, voice low and smooth and so much closer than before, “I think it’s high time we got to the heart of the issue. The root of the root and the bud of the bud, as it were.”

“Uh,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this but very much enjoying his simple touches, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering,” he clarifies, pausing to let out a soft sigh, “when you’re going to give in and kiss me.”

He plucks the champagne flute from your grasp and sets it on the table in front of you.

“I, uh—“

The fingertips on your shoulder continue to make their idle little circles, almost hypnotic in their swirling pattern. His left hand catches your right wrist, his thumb pressing above where your pulse thrums beneath sensitive skin.

“Bit fast,” he observes, pulling your arm closer as if inspecting it, “Could be nerves, but I think it’s more from excitement, don’t you?”

You have no choice but to lean into him as he brings your hand closer. Your shoulder presses against his arm, and you feel the solid shape of him through the smooth of his suit. He’s strong underneath all of those layers—warm, too, judging from the heat that radiates from his person.

“I’m—“

The thumb that had been testing your pulse inches higher, stopping when it’s pressing into the center of your palm. His eyes lock with yours, a heartbeat of a moment, and brings your wrist closer and closer until his lips are ghosting over your flesh. When he finally decides to make contact, you gasp—it’s a delicate sensation, but sends your heart skipping in a shaking staccato.

And, then.

Then he sucks.

The sound you make is halfway between an oh of surprise and a desperate little moan—oh, wow, that’s really weirdly unexpectedly hot—and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed by your own reaction. He’s not even doing much, not really; just a little bit of pressure, lips parted just enough to let his tongue slip out and have a taste of you.

But, oh, it feels…it feels filthy, it feels decadent, it feels like something you should not be doing but very much want to keep doing for the rest of your life. Takeru’s eyes have since fluttered shut, and he hums the tiniest sound of pleasure as he maintains his seductive tease.

“Please,” you manage to sigh, sounding as breathless as you feel, “please, I, I want you to kiss me.”

His lips release from your wrist with a pucker-pop noise—which was no doubt intentional on his part, and does nothing to quell the thrill of desire in your belly.

“Hm. I’ll make you a deal,” he says, shifting a bit to the left so that he can turn to face you better, “I’ll kiss you for the rest of the night, but right now…you kiss me.”

And what a deal that is—you don’t even have to think about it, head bobbing in an affirmative nod as you wet your lips in anticipation. The hand that had so lovingly held yours is now guiding you to rest your palm just above his knee. You reflexively reach your other hand out to steady yourself, and it lands against his chest before you can stop it.

He’s so close now. There’s barely any space between your faces, barely room to breathe—

“Go on, darling,” he whispers, “if you want me, have me.”

And you do.

You kiss him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The anxiety that has plagued you since the moment you entered the room hasn’t completely dissipated—it would be foolish to think it’d be that easy to banish those feelings completely—but all that is now secondary to the feeling of his mouth on yours.

Kissing Takeru is warm. It’s soft and it’s sure and it’s…comfortable, in a way. Safe, even. He does not press, doesn’t do much of anything except mirror the way your lips slide against his own. A gentle rhythm, a push and pull between the two of you that feels as natural as the moon guiding the tides to shore—yes, kissing him is good and right and something you want to do many times over.

Unfortunately, you have to pull away to breathe. He doesn’t let you go far, though, one hand cupped behind the nape of your neck and the other pressing into the small of your back.

“Oh, you are sweet,” he purrs, his gaze dropping to your freshly-kissed lips, “and, seeing that I’m a man of my word…”

As it turns out, being kissed by Takeru might be better than kissing him, yourself. He is still so very careful when he presses his lips to yours, but this time…this time, there’s fire. He tastes like the best part of a cigarette, like warmth and alcohol and cherries, and it only intensifies as he tests the seam of your lips with his tongue.

Little by little, you begin to test him, too. Hands cradle the curve of his jaw, feeling the way his face shifts as he moves against you. Fingertips run through the soft dark of his hair—oh, he likes that, if the half-sigh that slips from his throat is to be believed. And when you nip at his lower lip with your teeth (he had, after all, very much enjoyed the way you bit your lip earlier), he genuinely moans and pulls you even closer to himself.

It’s when he begins to wander lower, with his mouth skimming the sensitivity of your neck and his hand splayed across your lower back in a way that flirts with the idea of indecency, that you begin to want more. Fear—and maybe that’s not exactly the right word for what you’re feeling, but it’s the only one that comes to mind—begins to creep up the column of your spine.

The “what-if’s” start filling your brain; what if you mess something up? What if you do something he doesn’t like? What if you freeze up later and—

“Alright, darling?”

His voice is a low soothe against your ear; he’s retreated, just a bit, and his hand has wandered to a chaste and respectable area of your mid-back.

“I—“

You want him to take you to bed. You want him to take off your dress and kiss you in all the places you thought weren’t worth kissing, to let his hands trace sparks along the curves of your shape and let him be close to you in a way that no one else has. You want him, despite the uncertain ache that burns between your ribs and bids you to hide yourself away and leave behind the pleasure of his touch.

…But all you can manage is a nervous glance to the bed behind you (the one you had been avoiding thinking about up until this point) and a stammered “Can we, uh…?”

“Ask me,” he says, his index and middle fingers idly skimming the notch in your collarbone, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you ask me.”

It’s difficult to make eye contact with him—every time you try, you feel embarrassment swell up beneath your tongue.

But Takeru is, as you have come to learn over the last hour or so, decidedly patient. He shows no sign of relenting, appearing to be perfectly content with giving you an expectant grin and continuing his little touches as you try not to squirm in your seat.

“I,” you gulp, “I want…“

You bite your lip—oh, wait, he likes that too, and he’s staring at you with those sharp and sultry eyes, and it makes something behind your heart squeeze and unsqueeze itself and punches the air from your lungs and—

“Take me to bed,” you manage to spit out, and it all sounds like one word with how quickly you pushed the words into the air. The “uh, please” you tack on at the end is an afterthought, but perhaps it’s polite enough to pass muster.

“Was that so hard,” Takeru asks with a good-natured chuckle, “but since you asked so nicely…”

He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips for a kiss—and even that, after everything, still has you feeling a flutter of something giddy in your stomach.

“Darling,” he says, “it would be my pleasure.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

…and now, you’ll have to wait until chapter two to get to the “good stuff!”

It’s been a challenge writing this—I’m trying to make the scenario believable while still keeping it vague enough to allow for people to make up their own little details. It’s also been unexpectedly difficult to write him, since he’s kind of being himself while also playing a character who’s trying to mold themself into their client’s fantasy…it’s a lot of layers, but it’s been fun trying to figure things out!

[superhero--imagines]

A/N: I liked this request so much, I’m making it into a (short) series. Maybe three/four parts. This is mostly going to be a comedy, so feel free to leave any critiques you have in the comments! If you want to be tagged for the series just lmk!

You met Nightwing first. You were a hostage during a bank robbery that had gone bad. Not that you were worried, you were sure any second now a superhero would come bursting through that door to save the day.

This is the third time this week you’ve been inconvenienced by a villain. You pull out your textbook. All these villains are really starting to get in the way of your study schedule.

If you’re going to be stuck here for a while, you might as well catch up on studying for your test. You can’t have read more than ten pages when Nightwing comes bursting down from the ceiling.

Hooray, at long last your hero has arrived.

You’re about to pack up your things and get ready to leave when you notice someone’s holding a book out to you.It’s Nightwing in all his glory, scanning the cover of you book.

He looks younger than you had thought, in fact you can even see a few dots of acne on the sides of his face. He’s so close you can smell his aftershave too.

“Gotham university? Cool! I go th-“ suddenly his mouth clamors shut. “I-I mean, it’s really good to see more woman getting a good education and developing themselves” it’s a weird compliment, especially considering women in this city tend to be more educated than men considering the Wayne Foundation’s work. But you don’t want to make a big deal out of it.

“Thanks” You take your book back and head on your way. It’s only later that night when you’re about to wind down for the night finishing the chapter you started during the bank robbery, that you notice Nightwing autographed the cover

“What does he expect me to do? Tear of the cover and frame it?” You shake your head, but you can’t help but laugh. What a funny man.

You meet Dick Grayson shortly after. Well, meet is the wrong word. You’d say it was more like Dick Grayson met you.

You always knew of him, everyone did. He’s the school’s golden boy after all. All dimpled smiles, and shiny baby blue eyes, he had a legion of women trailing after him everywhere he went.

A golden boy who, for some reason chose to sit next to you in the 10 a.m lecture course, abandoning his usual spot surrounded by his fan girls.

You usually sit in the middle, not too close, and not to far. An inconspicuous place, for a person who doesn’t want to attract too much attention.

“Woah is that Nightwing‘s autograph?” The golden boy’s grinning as he looks at your text book. You can feel the eyes bore into you. “How did you get it?”

“I was a hostage in a bank robbery” the words leave your mouth in a monotone. It’s only after you’ve said it that you realize you have most of the classes attention now.

Right, inconspicuous.

“Are you okay? That must have been pretty rough.” Another classmate asks, her names Cassie or Cassandra or something. Almond shaped eyes bore into you as you shrug.

“Stuff like that happens all the time in Gotham, it isn’t that big of a deal”

Everyone in class thinks you’re super cool after that.

“Hey (Y/N), you wanna join our study group?” It’s a few of the girls from your class, Cassandra the girl from earlier, and a blonde name Stephanie. You know her name because she’s always getting called on by the professor for not paying attention.

You’ve seen them hanging out together before, and you found yourself a little jealous of their friendship. Maybe the three of you can be friends like that too.

“Sure”

The night air is warm, it’s hard to believe it will be fall in a few more weeks.

“This humidity is crazy” Dick says rubbing his neck.

It’s even harder to believe the golden boy is walking next to you too.

When you showed up at the apartment in the nicer part of campus, you weren’t expecting to see Dick open the door. You should have realized, of course Dick’s friends with the coolest girls on your class. And of course they host their study group out of his apartment. Being Bruce Wayne’s adopted son certainly comes with it perks. His apartment was so fancy, it had a chandelier in the foyer.

Still it was kinda fun. Though honestly calling it a “study group��� was going too far. It was basically ten minutes of studying and two hours of chatting. Then all of a sudden Stephanie and Cassandra wanted snacks and alcohol. Frowning as they rummaged through Dick’s kitchen only to find cereal and milk.

And that’s how you ended up here, walking side by side with the golden boy himself. You’re walking on the outskirts of campus in the nicer part of town, heading towards the convenience store.

You’re not really sure why he had to come along, probably because it isn’t safe to walk alone so late at night.

“So you met Nightwing huh?” Dick says to break the awkward silence. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. He’s weirdly obsessed with that hero.

“Yeah, why are you a fan?” You ask, you don’t miss the slight blush that forms on his face.

“Kinda yeah, what was he like?” His eyes are bright as he looks at you, the blush only creeping onto his face further. You think back, it was a brief encounter, you didn’t really think anything of it.

“He has acne” You can tell by the look on Dick’s face that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Y-yeah and what’s wrong with that? It must be from stress, and it must be hard keeping a good diet when you’re fighting crime all the time.” Dick’s flustered. He’s getting awfully defensive for a complete stranger.

Suddenly it hits you like a lightening bolt. The golden boy had a crush on Nightwing. You totally get it, all those muscles in that skin tight suit, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little turned on yourself just thinking about it. You steal another glance of his blushing face. If anyone has a chance with Nightwing it’s Dick. Who wouldn’t be weak to that smile and charm? You totally ship it.

You place a hand on his shoulder, baby blue eyes meet your own. You’re looking at him with such serious eyes, he wonders if you’re going to tell him something reassuring about acne or how Nightwing is an an amazing hero.

“I support you.” You tell him with a thumbs up.

Richard has no idea what you’re talking about, but he doesn’t want to embarrass you.

Then all at once it hits him, like a lightening bolt. (The sane lightening bolt that struck you a few minutes prior) He must have given away that he’s Nightwing! You’re really smart, he’s noticed you’re name on the dean’s list almost every semester.

But how’d you figure it out?

His hand flutters to the side of his face, fingertips brushing over the few pimples that popped up last week. You must have realized who he was since the acne spot matched the place it was on Nightwing!

He stares at the thumbs up you gave him. this must be you showing support for his vigilante activities!

He feels his eyes water slightly as he nods. He’s always known you were a gentle and kind soul. But he can’t believe you’re supportive as well, he feels himself falling even further in love with you.

“Would you mind keeping it a secret?, it’s good to know I have a friend like you to support me but not everyone does, yknow?” You nod, he’s Bruce Wayne’s adopted son. It makes sense those old-money geezers have narrow minded views on love. They probably want him to be with a nice girl from a wealthy family.

It must have been so painful for him growing up, hiding who he really was. Wishing he could just be loved the way he is, but knowing deep down that there were parts of him those people would never accept. Your heart aches for him.

“Don’t worry, just follow your dreams, I’ll keep your secret!” There’s fire in your eyes, and Dick brushes away the tears that have formed in the corner of your eyes.

The two of you board the miscommunication train without another thought, walking side by side with completely different interpretations of the conversation you just shared.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom when you get back, after heaving two large bags of snacks onto the dining room table.

Stephanie looks at Dick expectantly when she hears the bathroom door shut.

“So how’d it go? Did you guys get closer?” She practically bouncing as a smile spreads across Dick’s face.

“You know, I think we did!” He’s practically beaming, his grin so wide it almost consumes his face. Stephanie lets out a squeal and Dick laughs.

Well you two are closer now, but not for the reason he thinks.

You’re washing your hands, taking in your reflection. You’re not really sure why, but you have this feeling that school’s going to get a lot more interesting now.

[notfunnydean]

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel Warnings: None Word Count: 2.758 A/N: This is my Valentine present for @blueeyesandpie  ❤️️ Love you soo much! I hope you like it!  Summary: It’s nearly valentine’s day and Dean declines every attempt of Sam’s to set him up on a date. Only for Sam to find out that he had a date all along. “So.” 

Dean looks up from the book he was pretending to read, when Sam coughs slightly to get his attention. Sam tries to go for a light smile, but of course, Dean already knows something is up.

“What do you want?” Dean asks and he narrows his eyes. Of course, just because one time Sam had asked to have the Impala for one day, Dean thinks now he always wants something.

“Nothing, just thinking about next sunday.” Sam says and he tries to start this conversation lightly. Dean thinks about that for a moment and then shrugs, of course he doesn't know what the date is.

“Got a date with Eileen?” Dean asks and he wiggles his eyebrows. Even though sometimes Dean is an idiot like that, Sam knows that Dean really likes Eileen. Sam is glad they get along and Dean only talks in the best ways about Eileen.

“Well yeah, cause it’s valentine’s day.” Sam says and he hopes now Dean finally understands what Sam means. 

Since he’d been twenty Dean always went out on valentine’s day, got drunk in a random bar, and then went home with any woman he could find. Sam never really cared about that, but he feels like something changed in the last years.

Sam had seen how Castiel had looked when Dean announced he would go out. Sam sighs quietly.

“Oh phew. Already February again huh? Well I do hope you two have fun. Better treat her right, Sammy. You know she deserves it.” Dean answers and Sam would love to slap him against his head.

No matter how smart Dean is (and he is!) some things just go over his head.

“Yeah, well thank you. Do you have any plans yet?” Sam asks and he hopes it’s not too obvious what he’s trying to do. Dean puts his head to one side, just like Castiel always does.

Here’s the thing. Sam is 100% sure that Castiel fell in love with Dean the second he saw him - or well pulled him out of hell. The way he looks at Dean, the way he rebelled against everything he ever stood for, and the eye fucking? Yeah, don’t let him get started on that.

But Sam is also pretty sure that Dean loves his angel back. Maybe he’s just afraid of what everyone will think of him? Sam had always suspected that his brother wasn’t as straight as he claimed to be.

Now it was just getting ridiculous. So Sam hoped Dean would actually take Castiel out and do something about it.

“Nah, not really. Probably gonna watch some movies.” Dean says and he looks back down to his book. Sam pretends he doesn’t see how red Dean’s ears turn. Like always when he’s embarrassed or when he’s lying.

“Well there’s this new bar…” Sam starts but Dean is already shaking his head.

“I’m a bit old for that, don’t you think?” Dean says and he smiles a bit. Sam wants to protest, but before he can say anything else, Castiel walks into the room.

Dean's smile grows even wider.

“Dean could you help me for a moment?” Castiel asks and Dean is already up on his feet. Always happy to help his angel. Sam shrugs to himself and watches how they both leave the library.

Their hands are almost touching, while they walk next to each other.

Maybe Sam has to try harder to get them together.

*

“I could find a date for you.” Sam says two days later, while Dean is making them breakfast. Dean stops in his movement and puts the pan with his bacon down. He looks mostly confused when he turns around.

“What?”

“Well I know someone who would be very happy to go out with you.” Sam says and he hopes Dean doesn’t get that he is talking about Castiel.

“Are you trying to set me up on a blind date?” Dean asks, but he turns around and continues to prepare their breakfast. Damn, Sam had really thought he would be more interested.

Normally Dean loves to go on dates. Well more like, he loved to get laid. Now Sam isn’t even sure if Dean ever had a real date.

“I mean you will be all alone on Valentine’s Day.” Sam says and Dean shrugs, he doesn’t look bothered at all. Instead he puts two full plates on the table and pretends to gag, when he shoves Sam’s plate filled with fruits over.

“Hey, don’t worry about my old ass. You and Eileen really deserve some time for yourself and I don’t wanna disturb you.” Dean says and sits down. He is already shoving food into his mouth, Sam grimaces.

“Just thought it could be fun, you know?” Sam says but Dean is shaking his head again. Dammit, stubborn older brothers.

“Nah. This is your first Valentine’s Day with Eileen and I want you two to have something special. You deserve that Sammy.” Dean says and the smile turns so soft. Sam can’t help but smile too.

He’d always known that Dean cares a lot more than he likes to show. And he already shows his love so much.

“You deserve that too.” Sam answers and he even tries his puppy dog eyes, because he knows exactly that Dean can’t deny him anything. Or at least he’d thought so.

“Thank you Sammy.” Dean says and since his plate is already empty, he actually ruffles Sam’s hair and then goes over to the sink to wash his plate. Sam is a bit stunned. 

Eileen would laugh at him.

*

“I don’t like this.” Dean says at not for the first time while he looks at new pants. Sam has picked his own new suit out already, complete with a shirt and everything.

“Come on Dean… we never… we never picked out suits for something fun. Only ever for pretending to be FBI.” Sam explains and he can’t help but get a bit emotional about it. 

This time Dean nods shortly, but Sam can see that it means a lot to him as well. Eileen is with them today and she comes back over to them, holding out a nice dark red suit. Sam is glad she only picked out a dark grey one for him.

“Here Dean, try this one.” Eileen says and Dean doesn’t even complain. Sam knows that he doesn’t dare to say ‘no’ to Eileen.

“He still doesn’t want a double date.” Sam says, while they sit down on the little chairs and wait for Dean to change. At least he had agreed to come shopping with them.

“You can’t force him, sweetheart.” Eileen says and Sam knows she’s right. He just wanted his brother to be happy. He deserves that more than anyone and Sam is sure Castiel would happily join them on Valentine’s Day.

He also knows it’s unfair to set them up like this. Their love should grow on it’s own.

“I know. Maybe one day.” Sam agrees and Eileen kisses his hand. Sam loves it when she does things like that. Her smile is always so beautiful, Sam leans closer so he can get a real kiss.

Just as they kiss Dean steps out and awkwardly stands there.

“I knew it would look good.” Eileen says and Dean’s smile is shy and vulnerable. Maybe he does dream about a relationship too. Of course he does, Dean is softer than he wants to admit.

“Thank you.” Dean says and he makes a turn in front of the mirror. Sam can’t help but smile at that. They really deserve this. A break and a few good moments. 

“You should take it. You never know when you need a suit.” Sam says and Dean looks a bit lost in his thoughts, but he nods as well.

“Yeah… maybe I should. Uhm… Sammy can we talk for a second?” Dean says then and Sam nods. Eileen winks at Dean and squeezes Sam’s hand before she walks back out in the shopping area and looks at a few dresses.

“What’s up?” Sam wants to know, a bit worried because normally nothing good comes out of their talks.

“I uh… Sam I… I already have a date on Valentine’s Day.” Dean says and Sam is surprised by this, because why hadn’t Dean said anything? Sam’s shoulder slump down a bit, he can’t help it.

Well then again Dean had never told him about Cassie before they had visited her for a hunt. Or about his first love at the foster home he had been in when Dad had sent him away for a few weeks.

“Oh but that’s great Dean!” Sam says, because if Dean makes such a thing out of it, it has to be more than just a short fling.

“Yeah. Eh… just… it means something to me and that’s why I don’t want this blind date thing you offered so many times.” Dean says slowly. He looks nervous and is licking more than once over his lips.

Sam puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, all good. I just want you to be happy. I hope your date goes well and that one day I can meet your sweet Valentine.” Sam says and Dean seems so relieved.

“Yeah I really hope that too.” Dean says and he hugs Sam as hard as he can before he hastily goes back into the changing room.

“You better buy the suit though! Pretty sure it will increase your chances.” Sam snickers and Dean holds his hand out of the changing room to show him his middle finger. Sam laughs loudly.

And tries to ignore the bad feeling.

He had really hoped for ‘Destiel’ to come true. Charlie would’ve been so proud.

*

“This looks really amazing.” Sam says, when he and Eileen sit down at their reserved table. He’d never been to this restaurant, even though he had known it was rather popular in Kansas.

He just never had an opportunity.

“I hope they have some nice burgers.” Eileen laughs and Sam can’t help but kiss her again. He can’t even remember the last time he’d been this happy.

Their table is at the back of the restaurant and Sam sighs happily, when he looks into their menu card. It looks very promising.

They order shortly after sitting down and Sam has to say everyone is very nice here too. Eileen holds up her glass of wine and Sam smiles. Just as he takes his own glass, so he could chink his glass against Eileen, he hears someone laugh.

And he knows that laugh.

“Dean?”

Luckily Sam doesn’t say it loud, so nobody turns around to them and he doesn’t cause a scene. Eileen frowns and he signs it this time, her eyes widen and she looks around herself.

Just then does Sam spot him.

Dean is sitting not too far away from them and he is even wearing the red suit. His hair is neatly styled and his face is flushed. Sam is speechless, because when did Dean ever look so carefree?

“Oh.” Eileen says and Sam grins. Sadly they can’t see Dean’s date, because there in the middle of the room is a huge vase with flowers in it, so high that it actually touches the ceiling.

Sam almost swears.

“You wanna peek?” Eileen says and Sam laughs, before he shakes his head. He is here for his date with Eileen. So he holds out his hand and falls back into an easy conversation with her.

“I can’t believe I went so many years without having you in my life. Can’t imagine how it must feel for you.” Dean says and Sam hates that he can hear him, even though he’s not next to them. It’s clear that Dean is really in love.

Sure there had always been weird flirt lines, but nothing ever sounded like that. It sounded so honest, Sam even missed his date’s answer.

Their meals come and Sam focuses back on flirting with Eileen. He would give Dean his privacy, he knows one day he would meet his date anyway.

The food is delicious and Eileen orders them some ice cream afterwards. Sam can’t help but think about their future, maybe one day he could pull a ring out at a restaurant like this?

“So how about we go somewhere private?” Eileen says while she licks her spoon clean. Sam almost chokes on his mouthful of ice cream when he hears that. But he can’t help but nod and eat a bit faster.

Eileen laughs at that and Sam hastily pays for their meal. He gets her coat for her and helps her in it. Her dress is really stunning today, but Sam knows it must be rather cold outside and they decided to walk back.

“Ready to leave?” Sam asks and he is glad he took an umbrella with them. It looks as if it rains a bit outside, but he knows that wouldn’t bother Eileen.

“Yeah, is your brother already gone?” Eileen asks when they stand up and look around. Sam nods, he hadn’t even realized that Dean’s chair is empty. Seems like they were a bit faster. Too bad.

Outside it’s a bit cold and Sam takes Eileen’s hand in his own. The Impala is still standing there and Sam frowns at that. Is he now imagining things? 

“I never knew a love like ours was possible.” 

Sam turns around again and there is Dean. He’s standing a little bit next to the restaurant, leaning against a wall and…

“Holy shit!” Eileen says but her voice is full of glee. 

Castiel jerks a bit and breaks the kiss. Dean looks more surprised than angry and Sam can’t help the huge smile on his face.

“Oh my god I called it!” Sam says and he gives Eileen a high five. Now Dean looks a bit grumpy, but he is still holding the angel’s hand.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asks, while Castiel seems mostly confused. Sam could kiss them both. 

“We had our Valentine’s date here.” Eileen says and points at the restaurant. Dean promptly turns a red that bites itself with the red of his suit. 

“We had ours here too. It was lovely.” Castiel says and his smile turns so soft when he looks to Dean, who shyly nods. Castiel kisses his warm cheek again and Sam can’t help but press Eileen closer to himself too.

“So uh… well then let’s get over with it. Eileen, Sam, this is my boyfriend Cas. We uh… we got together 4 months ago.” Dean says and he tries to sound confident, but Sam knows he’s actually pretty scared.

“I’m so happy for you!” Sam says and he goes over to hug his brother. Eileen uses the moment to hug the angel as well.

“You’re not… uhm surprised?” Dean asks and Sam knows he wanted to use a different word. Sam shakes his head.

“Well a bit, but I’m so glad.” Sam says again and Dean takes a deep breath. He’s relieved.

“You tried to set me up with someone else.” Dean says and Sam laughs. He knows that Castiel probably wants to know about that, too.

“Actually I tried to set you up with Cas, you damn idiot.” Sam says and Dean looks so confused. Sam snickers at that and he can see that Eileen and Castiel start to laugh as well.

This family is really dumb sometimes.

“Oh.” Dean says and then his smile grows so wide, that it must hurt. This time Dean hugs him. Sam sighs happily.

“So I hope Castiel treats you right.” Sam says, but he looks at Castiel.

“I love your brother more than anything.” Castiel answers and he doesn’t seem to be intimidated at all. Dean steals a shy kiss from him.

“I… Sam, I really love him.” Dean says and Sam is so proud of him for that.

“I know.” Sam whispers, because you can really see it. Sam is so glad that they both found their soulmate.

“So maybe you can take us home with you? We wanted to walk but I didn’t know it would be so cold to be this hot.” Eileen says and points at her dress. Sam pulls her into his arms again and kisses her.

She’s right, then again she’s always hot.

“Uh sure, but Sammy drives!” Dean says and throws his keys at Sam, who catches them rather clumsily, because he’s so surprised.

“What why?”

“So I can make out with Cas on the backseat!”

[argylemnwrites]

Settled

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield); Roomies (+ Bryce and Rafael) friendship also featured

Book: Open Heart (~5 weeks post book 2)

Word Count: ~1400

Rating: PG-13 (rare language)

Summary: A long standing bet is about to be settled.

Author’s Note: Inspiration for this piece comes from a real experience in my undergrad dorm. It also works as a loose follow up to my pieces “Enough” and “Some Definition.” Also written for Day 28 of the @choicesfebchallenge - Closure.

Bryce felt his eyes getting heavy in spite of the early hour and the movie playing across the room. He had just come off a night float block, serving both as the senior resident overnight for the three gen surg wards and completing any ED surgical consults that came in from 5 pm to 7 am. Even though he’d only had to work 18 shifts over the past 28 days, each shift had been frantic, often with barely enough down time to inhale a sandwich. On top of that, he’d basically hadn’t gotten a chance to see the inside of the OR at all. The senior carrying the trauma pager usually got all the overnight cases, since there weren’t many non-traumas that went to the OR in the middle of the night. For the few remaining cases, unless it was a particularly complex case, the attendings usually prioritized letting the interns covering the wards overnight gain some experience. As an intern, Bryce had loved that culture in Edenbrook, but now that he was on the other side, he felt a bit jealous, even if he knew it wasn’t fair.

He was just kind of burnt out, if he had to put a label on things. He’d felt more like an internal med resident for most of the block, something Cassie had teased him about endlessly. But he just didn’t find the work as rewarding as actually operating, the shifts were exhausting, and now, almost a full week off of that block, he was still working to adjust his sleep schedule back to days. Hence him falling asleep in the middle of an action movie at Cassie’s with her roommates and Raf at 6 pm.

“Is he out?” he heard Sienna hiss out, obviously whispering in case he was asleep, forgetting that fact that her voice was far quieter than the explosions currently happening on screen.

“No, he’s not,” Bryce whispered back, drawing a chuckle and a little elbow nudge from Cassie. He dragged his eyes back open to find her turned to face him on the sectional, so he gave her a little grin before he dropped his head to her shoulder and closed his eyes again. “But he might be soon.”

“Seriously?” asked Raf, his voice drifting up from the floor where he and Aurora were lounging in front of the coffee table. “I didn’t think you’d be one to sleep through the latest Tommy Phelps blockbuster.”

“Lahela is a little baby who is still whining about the fact that he was on nights a week ago.” Jackie’s voice was the next one to fill the room. “Or maybe he has the right idea and is done with this dumb garbage. Why did I get up early for this again?”

“Because we only have one year left where we are all going to be in Boston for sure, and times where we are all off for a movie are rare!” Sienna cried out. Bryce felt Cassie shift slightly, presumably reaching over to hold Sienna’s hand or rub her back, but she didn’t move so much that his head was more than slightly jostled on her shoulder.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we had to watch this. Elijah, you don’t get to pick for movie night ever again.” Jackie added.

“Hey, I know my selections aren’t always the most popular, but this wasn’t me!”

“Alright, then who is responsi-”

“It was my pick,” said Aurora. Bryce squinted an eye open at that, glancing down to Aurora, who had twisted around to face Jackie. “What can I say? Sometimes I just need to turn my brain off and watch some shlock.”

“It’s better with a beer,” Raf said with a shrug, before lifting his bottle to his lips and taking a drink. 

“Well, I have to head in for a shift in a couple of hours, so that’s not an option for me,” Jackie said, “so I might have to take a page out of Bryce’s book and just nap.”

Bryce swung his foot towards her as he let his eyes close again, nudging her shin. “Shut up, Varma.”

“What? I’m not mocking you.”

“Sure.”

“I mean, there is plenty for me to mock you for always, but right now I’m not. Avoiding this movie and using Cassie as a pillow is one of your smarter choices.”

“I’m not using her as a human pillow. This is just part of boyfriend privileges, right Cass?”

“Absolutely,” Cassie said, but the room got suddenly very quiet as the explosions and gunfire came to an abrupt halt.

“Why’d you pause the movie?” asked Cassie, but no one answered her. Instead, Aurora asked a different question.

“Elijah, you still got the calendar?”

“Yup, lemme pull it up. I’m pretty sure everyone’s date has already passed, though.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

The room was silent for a few moments, so Bryce opened his eyes and dragged his head off of Cassie’s shoulder, glancing around the room and taking in everyone aggressively avoiding eye contact with him and Cassie. “Seriously, what’s going on?” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s not that bid a deal,” Jackie said with an eye roll. “We had a bet on when you guys would officially be together.”

It took Bryce a couple of seconds to process what she’d said. “Wait, seriously?” he asked with a chuckle.

“It was Elijah’s who organized it,” said Raf, earning him a pillow in the face from Elijah.

“Hey, man!”

“What, it’s the truth?”

“When did you guys start this?” Cassie asked. She was twisting her fingers over each other in her lap, so Bryce slid his right hand in between hers, tugging her left hand over into his lap.

“Elijah took my bet the day after the Hopeful Hearts Gala,” said Aurora, “and I think I was the first one to pick a date. After Elijah, obviously.”

“Wait, this has been going on for months?” Bryce asked.

“Well, you two have been all over each other for years,” said Jackie.

“And you were all in on this? Even you, Sienna?” asked Cassie as she glanced around the room from person to person.

Bryce leaned forward to peer around Cassie. Sienna cheeks were flushed, but she didn’t shy away from looking at the two of them.

“I mean, I was rooting for you two! Plus, Elijah had a PowerPoint which made it all feel so official! And, I don’t know, we’ve all been waiting for you guys to-”

“What she means is we’ve all had to put up with your obnoxious flirting for far too long to not have a bit of fun,” Jackie said, cutting off Sienna’s ramble. However, one thing Sienna said stuck out to him, and apparently to Cassie.

“Elijah, you made a PowerPoint?” she asked, her free hand coming up to her cheek.

It was Elijah’s turn to have his cheeks darken, but he just gave a little shrug. “Like Jackie said, this has been a long time coming. And I was bored in allergy clinic.”

“It was quite the presentation,” said Raf.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need to see that,” added Bryce, shooting Cassie a wink as she shook her head lightly.

“I don’t know if I still have it.” Elijah answered just a little too quickly, making Bryce think he very much did still have it and had no intention of showing it to them. But before he could push him on that, Jackie asked Elijah another question.

“So, quit stalling. Who’s the winner?”

Elijah just shook his head. “Like I said, we all lost. Brittany was the last date, and even hers passed last month.”

“Wait, you got the gen surg residents involved in this as well?” Bryce asked.

“We’ve all been subjected to your prolonged and public teasing,” said Jackie, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to fight her on that statement.

“I mean, I know we’re a good looking couple, but this level of fascination is beyond what even I could have expected.” Bryce’s statement drew groans from almost everyone in the room and pillows chucked at him by Raf, Aurora, and Jackie, but all he could do was squeeze Cassie’s hand before snuggling up against her again, settling in for the end of the movie… and likely a little nap. Their friends could tease them all they wanted. They were happy, and that was all that really mattered.

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[chasing-classics]

I See You, I Love You- Lexi x Reader

Pairing(s): Lexi Howard x Reader

 Warning(s): language

 Summary: Lexi has been in Cassie’s shadow for as long as she can remember so she’s given up on the idea that you, her best friend, could ever be interested in her. At the winter formal, you show her exactly how you feel.

 A/N: Lexi Howard is a fucking saint and she deserves the absolute best! She needs more love lol

 ‘’What did you think of the dance?’’ you beamed, sitting down next to your best friend.

 Lexi offered her signature smile, that little twinkle in her eyes shining bright and taking your breath away.

 ‘’You were great, as always,’’ she nodded, holding her geometry book to her chest as she smiled down at the floor.

 That was typical Lexi. She and you came from two completely different worlds and personalities. You were outgoing, the class clown and the life of every party. Lexi was the bookworm, the quiet girl with the heart of gold. And you loved her more than anything in this world. You had become fast friends with the Howard sisters, Cassie and you had similar interests and personalities so you two clicked immediately in elementary school. Nearly everyday after school was spent at your house or at the mall growing up. You easily considered Cassie one of your best friends, but it had been Lexi you had fallen in love with.

 Unbeknownst to you, Lexi had fallen just as hard. She remembered feeling something different towards you growing up, but watching all of the attention Cass would get from guys and the pressure from her mother to ‘’bag a man’’ made it difficult to come forward with her feelings towards you. It wasn’t like her mom was homophobic or anything, and she absolutely adored you and was charmed by your witty humor, but she had always been in her sister’s shadow for as long as she could remember. How could she suddenly, after ten years of friendship, come clean about her feelings towards one of her closest friends? How could she possibly jeopardize that, when she was so used to being second-best to Cass? How could you ever see her more than what she was; plain-Jane Lexi.

 ‘’Are you going to the formal tonight?’’ you playfully bumped her shoulder with yours as you two took your time walking to your car.

 ‘’Yeah, want to pick me up?’’ she smiled, tucking a tendril of wavy brown hair behind her ear.

 ‘’Abso-fucking-lutely,’’ you grinned, opening the car door for her.

 This was it, this was going to be the night you were going to confess your feelings to Lexi. After you had chickened out about asking her to the formal, Maddy, BB, Kat, and Cass all gave you the stern pep-talk you so desperately needed. ‘So are you just going to wait around until some loser makes a move on her?’ Maddy scoffed. Your eyes furrowed in both jealousy and protectiveness. ‘It’s true, I saw Chris Rivas talking to her in P.E today,’ BB added, taking a hit of her vape. You clenched your jaw at the thought of that meat head anywhere near Lexi. Cassie grabbed your hand encouragingly, a small smile on her glossy lips. ‘She likes you back, y/n. Just. . .just tell her how you feel.’ And so you were. As you walked up to the porch of the Howards’ house, makeup done to your liking and your dress looked absolutely stunning.

 ‘’Y/N! Oh honey you look stunning,’’ Miss Howards exclaimed, the typical half-empty wine glass in her hands. You smiled, giving her a hug as she welcomed you inside. Cassie came down the stairs first, dressed in a simple but elegant blue gown. You squealed and hugged your best friend, the two of you trading compliments and joy.

 ‘’Oh my gosh, Lex,’’ Miss Howards’ voice broke the two of you apart, you turning around to look up the stairs. Your jaw dropped and you swore your heart actually stopped beating for a few seconds.

 She was beautiful. She looked like a princess, only better. She had an embarrassed smile on her face, her cheeks quickly turning into a rosy pink color. You smiled when you noticed her nose crinkle up, the same way she always did whenever she was embarrassed.

 ‘’You look beautiful,’’ was all you could manage to get out, still in a daze. She laughed a bit, looking down at the ground. Neither of you noticed the knowing smile on Cassie and Miss Howards’ face.

 ‘’Take good care of my daughter, y/n,’’ she called out as the three of you flooded into your car. You gave her a cheeky grin, nodding as you made sure Lex and Cass were buckled up.

 ‘’Always!’’ you called out, watching the older woman put her wine glass away to wave to you three.

 The gym was packed, sweaty bodies were dancing and grinding in every which way you could imagine. You were currently sitting at the table with the girls, smiling as Lexi played and toyed with your charm bracelet out of boredom.

 ‘’I’m going to go get a drink, Rue, you should come,’’ Jules announced, causing you to quirk a brow.

 ‘’Huh? Ohhh, Oh! Yeah! Coming,’’ Rue grinned, winking at you.

 ‘’I should go apologize to Ethan,’’ Kat sighed, offering you an encouraging smile.

 ‘’I’m going to go kick Nate’s ass, enjoy you guys,’’ Maddy sent a quick smile as she glared daggers at the Neanderthal currently fingering some random blonde on the dance floor.

 ‘’I’m going to suck dick,’’ BB coughed, smirking as she blew out a cloud and swayed away with some random baseball player.

 ‘’I’m going to watch,’’ Cassie was the last to leave, the two of you now alone in your big empty table.

 ‘’Well that’s weird,’’ Lexi laughed, raising an eyebrow in confusion at the dispersed group. You shrugged, smiling back at her. ‘’You still got me,’’ you offered. Lexi nodded, smiling and leaning closer to you. You felt your face flush as you realized how close you two were, and the two of you cleared your throat; praying that the other couldn’t sense how fucking nervous you both were. ‘It’s now or never,’ you relented in your head. You turned in your seat so that you completely faced Lexi, her sitting up straight as she noticed your change in attitude.

‘’Y/n? You ok?’’

 ‘’N-no. I mean, yes! Well, sort of. Fuck this isn’t how it was supposed to start,’’ you huffed, pinching your brows together in frustration. You froze when you felt Lexi’s soft hands hold yours down from your face, her eyes searching yours as if she could read your thoughts.

 ‘’How what was supposed to start?’’ she asked softly.

 You thumbed at her hand, sighing. You looked her right in the eye, taking a gulp and trying to remember the girls’ words of encouragement.

‘’Lexi. . .I’m in love with you.’’

 Her eyes widened in shock, her grip on your hands became slightly looser as your heart clamored in your chest.

 ‘’I’ve been in love with you since fourth grade, when you helped me the day Nate Jacobs gave me a bloody nose from that football. I loved you then, I loved you when you could barely say one fucking sentence the day you got your braces, I loved you when you told me Rue couldn’t kiss for shit, I loved you when you came over at my house in the middle of the night crying about your dad, I loved you when you made me chicken noodle soup when I was sick with the flu last summer, and I love you now. I probably always will. I love everything you do and I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you without making it weird between us, because I’d hate myself if I ever lost you. . .and now I’m rambling, but. . .it’s true. . . I love you.’’

  You felt your body shake as Lexi processed  your words. On one hand the weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. The burden of carrying such a heavy secret had finally ceased to exist, dissipating into thin air. On the other hand, though, you were terrified of what Lexi’s reaction would be.

 ‘’Y/n. . .you don’t mean that.’’

 You were crushed, physically deflating. ‘’W-what?’’ you whispered, trying not to allow your voice to crack. Lexi shakily sighed, eyes glossy with unshed tears as she looked at the dance floor to avert your devastated gaze.

 ‘’My whole life, I’ve been runner up. I’ve never been enough. Nobody has ever really seen me. And you, you’re so wonderful. You shine in a crowd, everyone loves you. Everyone sees you. And as much as I love you too. . .which I do. I fucking love you so much, I’m not enough for you. I’ll never be enough,’’ tears streamed down her pale cheeks and when you went to brush them away, Lexi sniffled and pulled away.

 ‘’Lex. . .I want this, I want you. Why can’t you see that?’’ you whimpered, heart breaking at the sight of her crying.

 ‘’Y/n, I’ve never been enough for anyone. Not my parents. Not our friends. I don’t want this to be the same,’’ she was close to sobbing as she stood up, pushing her way through the crowd toward the exit.

 ‘’Lexi!’’ you called out, panicking. You had come this far, confessed this much. You couldn’t let her leave feeling like this, like you didn’t see her. Without thinking, you made a bee-line for the stage, abruptly cutting off the DJ and grabbing the microphone.

 ‘’Hello? Sorry, sorry guys I just. . . I really need to say something,’’ you exhaled, closing your eyes momentarily to gather your courage. You opened them and right away found Lexi, stunned and tears running down her cheeks as she looked at you like you had lost your mind. At this point, you weren’t sure she was wrong.

 ‘’That girl over there, the one in the black dress. With the most beautiful fucking eyes and smile you’ve ever seen,’’ you started, someone moving the spotlight so that it rested on Lexi’s general direction.

 ‘’Yeah, that’s her. Lexi. Listen. . .I don’t know if she’ll hate me for doing this. And if you do, Lex, I understand. But the last thing I’m going to do is let you leave without showing you how much you mean to me. I’m not afraid if the whole fucking school knows it, I’ll say it to anyone who will listen. Lexi Howard is the most beautiful, the most down-to-Earth, kindest, funniest, most loyal person you’d ever hope to meet. Those are just some of the reasons I fell in love with her when we were in fourth grade. And as much as I thought I loved her back then, that’s absolutely nothing to how much I love her now,’’ tears cascaded down your cheeks, you felt the entire school looking at you but all you focused on was Lexi.

 Her mouth hung open, tears still glossy in her eyes as she stood there, listening to every word you said. The shadow of a smile on her red lips.

 ‘’You’re worried that you’re not enough for me? Lexi. . .you are everything. I see you, I love you. And I’m not going to stop just because you’re scared. I don’t care how long it takes, I’m going to prove it to you that I’m not going anywhere,’’ you smiled through your tears. You could vaguely see her smile, hands covering her mouth soon after as she began taking small steps towards you.

 You gently handed the mic back to the DJ, who you could’ve sworn was choking back a few tears of his own (whether it was from being faded or actually moved by your speech, you didn’t know) and began walking towards Lexi. Nothing around you mattered other than the girl you were walking towards. Not the whole school who was clapping and cheering, not the girls crying out of joy and merriment, not even the fact that your makeup was absolutely fucked due to your emotional outburst.

‘’Lex please don’t hate-‘’ your eyes flew open when she tackled you into a mind-blowing kiss, her hands caressing the back of your head as she crashed her lips onto yours.

 You quickly kissed back, holding the side of her face as the world completely faded from your view. You didn’t know how long you stood there in the middle of the dancefloor, kissing your dream girl like it was a bad high school musical deleted scene. But you didn’t give two shits.

‘’I love you too,’’ she whispered, staring into your eyes as you held each other. You nodded, smiling as a new wave of tears threatened to escape. She smiled back, the two of you kissing and smiling, wrapped around in each other’s gentle embrace. Wrapped around in the start of your new forever.

[ownworldresident]

We Are Our Own Heroes. Chapter Four: Tentative

Book: The Royal Romance, seven years post-TRR

Premise: Six years after a tragic loss, Liam and his adopted daughter meet Cassandra, an artist with her own troubled past, and the three find in each other the friend they never knew they needed.

Disclaimer: Setting and some characters belong to Pixelberry. I am just borrowing them and will return them when they feel better.

Themes: found family, (power of) friendship, healing

The Master Masterlist (link)  |  Our Own Heroes Masterlist (link)

Liam

“We’ve completed the background check you asked for, Sir.” Bastien announced from the door of Liam’s study. Liam sighed, and looked up.

“And?”

Bastien held up a manila folder. The guilt and uncertainty he felt mixed with relief at how thin it was.

“There is nothing to suggest Miss Rice has any harmful intentions.” He entered the study and placed the folder carefully on Liam’s desk. “She is Cordonian, originally from Portavira, studied fine arts and theatre abroad, and works as a temp and freelance ghostwriter for—”

“That’s enough, Bastien,” Liam interrupted. “I didn’t ask for this to pry into her private life. I just want to know whether I can trust her.” He winced at the double standard he was presenting; this wasn’t just curiosity, he reminded himself, it was assurance he and Emily would be safe. Blind trust wasn’t something he could afford.

“I believe so,” his bodyguard said, more conversationally. “Her only criminal records are parking tickets.”

Liam smiled. That was common enough. There were a lot of questions he would have liked answers to; where she had studied and why, what kind of art did she pursue, where was her family…

“Does she…” Liam’s brow creased as he considered the question, then mentally apologised to Cassie for the invasion. “Are there are partners or ex partners that could provide some risks?”

“None.” Bastien said, and when Liam looked up at him, his bodyguard shrugged.

Deciding not to pry further, Liam ended the discussion.

“If you believe she can be trusted, then I believe you.” Liam lifted the folder, removed the clips, and opened a cupboard to retrieve his shredder.

Cassie

Cassandra screamed.

The lonely peak she stood upon absorbed it and the sky answered with a sheet of lightning and close crack of thunder. Beyond the waves below the peak there was rain coming, and not a day too soon. The electricity in the heavy air vibrated through her very bones. She stamped her foot down on the craggy outcrop, balled her fists tight, and screamed again.

When the front hit, it was with a rush of cold air that buffeted her face. White peaks of the restless ocean splayed before her. They became dotted with heavy rain; she stared hard to commit the feeling and energy to memory, to burn it into her mind. There was so much anger there, but she didn't know whether it was her or the vengeance of the skies that conspired to keep her darkness.

The rain crested the peak, and for a lightning filled moment Cassandra raised her face to the broken skies with eyes shut and arms flung wide. Then thunder cracked around her, rolling against her ears, and, heart pounding, she fled.

By the time the world was awake, Cassie was heaving long breaths in front of her easel. The echo of the storm outside resonated on the canvas, with a vast expanse of swirling masses that floated at the edge of being distinguishable things.

She grinned, stepping back from her new painting. It was a story she was trying to tell, she was sure, and this part was more darkness in form than of it.

---

Cassie

Above the main city were lines of terraces stacked up onside a low mountain. Parting the upper and lower levels was an open space more familiar to locals than tourists, overlooking the main city and the bay. Cassie stood at the edge of the cobbled space, lost to the world as she stared over her city. It wasn’t the pier or the outcrop, but the dark swirling storm was as beautiful here as it would be there. There were several perfect views here for painting, in fact. Lifting her hands to make a rough square with her thumbs and forefingers and squeezing one eye shut, she imagined the image captured from different angles. Too perfect. This might be a real place, but even the organic, eclectic mix of buildings with colourful rooves… set on a backdrop of a low grey sky… there wasn’t enough grit or imperfection to translate.

Leaning her elbows against the half wall, she tried to imagine the view with a fire or collapsed building, something to put more conflict in the image. That dream kept her occupied while she waited.

“Cassie!” A young voice she knew called out behind her, and she turned to see Emily running to meet her. The girl stopped a few feet away and Cassie stood to attention to salute her.

“Hey, Em,” she said as Emily saluted her in return, “I like your shirt.” She nodded at the image of an open ocean and a few clouds. Emily looked down, then up again.

“Thanks.” Emily turned back as Liam reached them, smiling when she saw that he was.

“I hope we didn’t keep you waiting.” He smiled, but his posture was stiff. Cassie wondered what was going on behind it. Maybe she was reading too far into things.

“Not at all,” she replied, energy closer to that of Emily than of Liam. “I arrived early anyway.”

“Good.” Liam lifted an arm to point down the street. “There’s a really nice café down this way. I thought we could get lunch? If the weather holds, we might be able to sit outside.”

“Sounds perfect.” Cassie kept an eye on Emily as they walked. She looked back every so often at her father. Liam didn’t seem phased by the habit, instead walking with an absent half smile for the first part of their walk.

“How was your week?” Cassie asked after a time, not sure where else to start. Liam exhaled, and turned to her.

“Busy,” he said, still smiling, and didn’t give her much more than that.

At the café, which was more of a restaurant, Emily chose a table beneath an outdoor awning. She bee-lined for the tree-shaded playground adjacent with the decisiveness of a child who played on her own a lot. Liam watched her for a moment, and Cassie noted the dark crescents beneath his eyes.

“Thank you for meeting us,” Liam said after a time, looking over at her. His smile was tired but a little more relaxed. It was an interesting study to watch them, Cassie thought, seeing how they interacted in public, and she wondered if they were much less guarded behind closed doors.

“I seem to remember me asking you first.” She stretched, warm in the sun. “I should be thanking you for reaching out.”

Liam laughed, short and genuine, then nodded. “Why did you reach out?”

“I like your daughter, and you seem nice.” Cassie shrugged, then grinned. “Why did you?” Saved from having to answer by the arrival of their food, Liam thanked the server, and called Emily over. When the ball of energy arrived and they started eating, Cassie found herself plagued by questions from her about what she did and who she was and offered as many answers as she could. When Emily discovered she was an artist, she became more interested in that than her food.

“Would you like to see some of my work?” Cassie asked, already pulling the ever-present sketchbook from her bag and handing it over. Emily reached for it, nodding profusely.

“Yes please!”

“Fingers.” Liam reminded her, and Emily glanced at her hands, wiped the sauce from them with a napkin, then took the sketchbook and started flipping through.

“I wish I could draw…” she commented absentmindedly as she flipped through the pages. Liam looked surprised, and Cassie wondered whether she had expressed that wish before.

“I could teach you, if you like,” she said, and Emily looked up, grinning.

“Thank you!” She glanced at her father, who nodded, smiling, then turned back to the pages. Liam began to speak but was cut off by Emily’s laugh.

“You drew Drake?” Emily looked up again, wide-eyed. Cassie shrugged. She had written the man’s name in the corner of the sketch.

“I met him at a bar the other day.”

“His face looks exactly right.” Emily lifted the page for Liam to see. “Doesn’t he?”

“Do you know him?” Cassie frowned as Liam inspected the page.

“Very well.”

“Are you dating him?” Emily’s innocent question caught her off-guard, and both of them sent her questioning looks, though Liam’s was tinged with amusement.

“Definitely not.” She reached for her coffee, then realised how forceful her answer had been, and added, “He seems like a nice guy, but no.”

Far from relaxing, Liam seemed even more surprised, and looked away from her when she caught his eye, which confused her. Had she given the wrong impression? If he was offended he would say something, she believed him frank enough for that. Maybe not in front of Emily.

As soon as the latter had finished her food and waited the several fidgety minutes that her father requested, she raced off to the playground again, scaling the climbing frame with ease and dancing across the top as if she’d been born there.

“Dating?” Cassie asked Liam for clarification.

“She gets some… interesting information from her school friends. And movies don’t help either.” He shrugged, but there was a little unease in his manner.

“Must bring up some interesting discussions.”

“Sometimes.” He smiled, then frowned, focused on something on Cassie’s shirt. “Your necklace.”

Cassie looked down to see that the small chain had come free from her shirt, and reached up to touch the smooth diamond shaped flag: black, grey, white and purple.

“Do you know it?”

“I do.” He smiled, nodded as if with some new understanding, and sat back.

Her orientation wasn’t something she had come prepared to openly discuss, so she was glad Liam was aware of the community. She tucked the flag back beneath her shirt and let the subject end there.

Left alone with Liam, it wasn’t lost on her that barely any of their conversation centred on him as a person. She had no trouble being open about most parts of herself, and they talked about general topics, but Liam only spoke of things she could discover easily enough in a newspaper, or seemed near inconsequential to disclose.

They parted in the middle of the afternoon, when Emily returned, exhausted, to bury her face in Liam’s side. Taking that as a queue to let the girl go home and rest, they walked back to where they had met up, Emily half leaning on Liam, though Cassie half suspected it was for dramatic effect.

Cassandra

Cassie spent the next few days busy and inspired, her confidence bolstered by her time with Liam and Emily. The large canvas was still blank, but she had moved it behind a couple of finished pieces and was focusing on the smaller ones, less daunted by it being empty. An overcast day had cast some more drama over the beach she frequented, and she had spent some time photographing it to paint at home and letting the salty wind and light rain sink into her to remember the feeling.

She didn’t see Liam at Emily’s training, but did see him at the game, and they had agreed to meet afterwards. Her team didn’t win, which left them a little downhearted after three straight victories but didn’t curb Cassie’s optimism. They left much less dejected, and while she packed up she ran through ways to help them in their next training session. Liam and Emily met her outside.

“Ready?” asked Liam, and the lower guard in his smile heightened Cassie’s spirits as she nodded in response. Emily dragged her feet, and Cassie knelt to face her.

“You tried your best, Em, right up till the end, and that takes a lot of courage.” She ducked her head a little to Emily’s tired, downcast face. “There will always be losses. What matters most is how we come back from them.”

Emily’s frown lifted into a tiny smile. “That’s what Dad said.”

Cassie looked up to Liam, whose eyes crinkled as he watched them. “That’s because your dad is a very wise man.” She stood. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” Emily turned back to Liam, smiling again.

“You too, Panda.” He turned toward the emptying car park. “Ready for that movie?”

Nodding, Emily started again toward the car.

“Wherever your mother is now, I’m sure she would be very proud.”

Cassie knew it was a mistake the moment she said it. Emily stopped, and though Cassie couldn’t see her face, she felt the shock. Liam schooled a patient expression, approached Emily and squeezed her hand. She looked up to him.

“Dad?”

“It’s okay, Emily.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, voice low and soothing. “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry.” Cassie clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes darting between the two as her heart dropped. “I shouldn’t have said… I’m sorry…”

Liam turned to her now. “Give us a few minutes?”

Cassie nodded, staying back from the two and wringing her hands. The mask of Emily’s father broke when they made eye contact and some of the pain seeped through. Familiar pain. Liam picked up his daughter and walked away.

The official story read that Emily was Liam’s god-daughter, and he had taken her in after her parents had died in an accident. It explained the hypersensitivity to loud noises Emily had displayed in the past and perhaps her need to keep Liam within her sight.

Around the time the media excitement had been dying down, Cassie arrived back from studying abroad. She had followed the attempt on Liam’s life, the ensuing turmoil, and a bit about Emily’s sudden appearance, but hadn’t realised how much Cordonia had been obsessed with it until she landed. It had seemed disproportionate to the tragic circumstance, confirmed when Liam gave a public statement reaffirming some facts and refuting a few less accurate reports, and requesting privacy. Cassie’s friend had been disappointed, but it had been a long time since they had spoken.

——

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[deans-baby-momma]

Wounded Hearts 11

2001  DEAN’S POV  CHILLICOTHE OH

Sam’s gone. I knew the boy was smart but getting a full ride scholarship to Stanford? Even that blew my mind. I was actually proud of the nerd.  But Dad….instead of being pleased he threatened Sammy; told him if he left to not come back. I was a little hurt and totally impressed when Sam turned that knob and walked out the door.

For the last year and a half, it’s just been me and Dad, saving people, hunting things, the family business. I missed Sam  a helluva lot but we keep our nose to the grind and just keep finding cases.

Right now, we are headed to Chillicothe, Ohio: Pastor Jim called, said there’s a possible case there so Dad and I packed up our bags and hit the road. I’ve slept on and off on the way, dreamless but restless sleep. This ‘business’ of jumping up and leaving on a dime is getting old and fast.

When we finally arrive on the outskirts of town, I drop Dad off at the motel and head into the city to find some food. I am famished. I need a good ole bacon cheeseburger, some fries and a cold six pack. 

Yep, I’m 21 now and can legally buy my own booze. No more sneaking it while at Bobby’s or when Dad is passed out. I can buy the beer or whiskey or whatever the fuck I feel like drinking. A fleeting thought crosses my mind and I try to shake it away but it won’t budge.

‘What’s Becks up to these days? Is she enjoying being able to purchase alcohol? Would she even drink?’

God, just one little thought about her still frigging sends me into a spiral. Do people ever get over broken hearts? 

The bell above the door jingles and I look up from my wallet to see a group of kids my age come in, all of them carrying books or have bags thrown over their shoulders. Three females and two males. That is what makes up the group. 

None of them pay any attention to the man paying for his booze but as he goes to walk out the door, so I takes one more look over my shoulder. I catch the chestnut colored eyes of the girl with smooth caramel skin. She smiles demurely at me and tucks an errant curl behind her ear.

I return the smile and walk out the door, the bell signaling my departure.

It takes 5 days to confirm that the case in town was not a case at all. Well, not one for the Winchesters anyway. Yes, there have been killings in town but come to find out it was the husband of the second victim, Monica. Apparently Monica had been having an affair and when her husband found out, he became infuriated. 

He tortured and  maimed the man, all while his wife watched and then turned his vengeance on her. After it was all said and done, the guilt had got to him so in a moment of remorse, he had doled out the same torment to himself. 

Dad is bound and determined that there is something evil in town still so he pays up for another two weeks of room and board and we wait. And we wait. And I’m getting antsy.

“I’m going out,” I tell him as I shrug on my coat. It might be Spring in Ohio but the air is still chilled. “Don’t wait up.”

“Dean,” he calls, grabbing my attention. “You got…..”

“My 45 in my coat pocket and my bowie in my boot. I know Dad,” I tell him before opening the door and leaving the old man behind.

Driving around town aimlessly, I listen to the tunes and just take in the scenery. The trees all have buds on them, the grass doesn’t look as dirty and browned as it did when we first arrived in town and along the sidewalks and yards, flowers are beginning to spud up out of the ground. New life just waiting in the balance to bloom and flourish.

After what is probably my third time passing ‘Wanda’s Diner’ I decided to go in for a bite seeing as I hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. I pull into the lot and park at the far end; if Baby were to get dinged Dad would have my hide.

I sit on a stool at the counter and immediately a waitress appears. After ordering my food, a cheeseburger and a Coke, I take a glance around the place. It is decorated like something out of the 60’s, black tables with red leather booth chairs along the wall, round tables and chairs with the same color red pleather seat surround them are dotted throughout the place. 

In one of the booths toward the back though, I see the same group of kids from the store a few days ago. She is with them again. I watch as they all laugh and giggle and talk amongst themselves. ‘God, how lucky they are!’ he thinks to himself. ‘Not a care in the world. They don’t know what is really out there.’

Once again, green eyes meet brown ones as the girl with the mocha skin looks his way. This time her smile is brighter and less timid. I watch as she says something to her friends before scooting out of the booth and heading my way.

“Hi,” she says, reaching her hand out. “I’m Cassie.”

“Dean,” I tell her as I take her hand. God, the skin is so smooth and warm.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Won’t your friends be expecting you back?” I ask, internally groaning at the uneasiness in my voice. ‘Get it together dude!’

“Nah, I told them I was coming to talk to the hottest guy here.”

Cassie sits down on the stool beside me and we chat while I wait on my food. She is an aspiring journalism student and it’s her last year. Once she graduates, she is going back home-Missouri. My food finally arrives and Cassie reaches over, taking a fry from my plate. She has balls, I’ll give her that. We’ve just met and she’s already stealing my food. 

@tftumblin​ @spnbaby-67​ @markofdean79​ @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @travelingriversideblues-x​ @akshi8278​ @keymology​ @hoboal87​ @squirrelnotsam​ @natura1phenomenon​ @drakelover78​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @blacktithe7​ @atc74​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @sandlee44​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​ @lyarr24​

[vikingpoteto]

we don’t have to dance (to the beat of their songs)

Chapter 6 on AO3

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Relationships:  (Gen) Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Tags: Battle for the Cowl, Alternate Canon, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Neglect, Domestic Fluff, Canon is not valid I am, and I want them to be friends goddamnit

Summary: In the middle of their battle, Jason asks Tim to leave the nest and be his Robin. Tim decides it's not a bad idea, after all.

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Normalcy.

Tim doesn’t quite know what that concept entails. Once, it meant taking care of himself in a big house, making sure no one knew how much time he actually spent alone. Another time, it meant solving problems, training hard and answering questions, juggling a double life. Then, leading a team of people who trusted him and whom he failed time and time again. Finally, for a brief period of time, normalcy was running against time to solve an impossible puzzle and being a triple agent.

And now… now he isn’t sure anymore.

It’s a sunny Saturday morning when he wakes up and squints at the window. He wonders how beaten he must’ve been to forget to close the blinds. He scratches his belly and sniffles because less than a few hours ago Ivy freaking bombed a warehouse with allergenic pollen, which was really uncool of her. She didn’t even bother to give them a heads up. She did apologize and gave them an antidote before they parted ways, but… still. Tim wonders if it was less effective on him because… you know.

He lifts his shirt enough to check on the scar. It’s healing well, in spite of everything. He doesn’t bother changing out of his sleeping clothes before going upstairs. Judging by the sun outside, it can’t be later than 11 am, which means…

Ah, yes. Just like he expected: normalcy now means getting out of bed late in the weekend and being greeted by the strong scent of tea, because Jason is a heathen. When Tim stumbles his way to the kitchen, he finds the now familiar sight of Jason in his favorite green hoodie, a mug of tea in his hand, and his nose buried in a heavy looking novel.

“Morning,” Tim mumbles, already searching the cabinets for coffee.

“Food,” Jason orders in lieu of a greeting.

Tim mouths the word food while pulling a face, but obediently grabs a piece of toast from the table. Bickering with Jason over mundane things is part of his routine now, but there are certain things the older boy is absolutely inflexible about. Part of normalcy now means knowing Jason will leave food for Tim and fighting him on whether he wants to eat is pointless. Tim bites into the toast as he prepares his coffee.

“Ivy’s thing worked for you?” Jason asks without raising his gaze from his book.

“Hm-hum,” Tim nods. He’s still sniffling, but it’s true that he felt instantaneous relief when he swallowed the antidote last night. “You good too?”

“Yeah. Still, I can’t believe you just took it when she handed it to you,” Jason puts down his book and glares at Tim.

Tim sits on the counter and shrugs. “If she wanted to kill us, she could’ve left us coughing our lungs out like the rest of the guys in the warehouse.”

“You have trust issues in the most fucked up way, kid.”

“Hey, I happen to trust people who deserve trust,” Tim protests. “It’s not like I would take something from the Penguin. Ivy is pretty chill if you’re not littering or dumping waste in rivers.”

“You have a crush on her or something?” Jason teases.

Tim rolls his eyes but focuses on chewing his toast rather than giving him an answer. Jason takes that as he wants, and snickers, like the idiot he is.

This is normalcy now. Having breakfast in the old kitchen and talking about mundane crap - or at least mundane for them - and it feels… Odd. Tim can’t quite explain it. It isn’t like eating alone in Drake manor. It isn’t like making a mess in Titans Tower - the closest place he ever had to a home - because even there he felt like he had to set an example somehow, to keep everyone in check. It isn’t like awkwardly joining Alfred in the morning, still feeling like Bruce only thought he had to adopt him considering the circumstances.

All in all, this new normalcy doesn’t feel like any Tim had felt before. He doesn’t dislike it.

“I’m probably going to finish the adjustments to your computer system today,” Tim informs him. “I can’t believe we’re finally leaving the stone age.”

“Shut up,” Jason tosses another piece of toast at him. “Also you can stop calling it mine. I hate it and I don’t know how to use it after everything you did to it. The computer is all yours.”

Tim catches the toast and grins around his first bite. “Ooh, look at me, I’m Red Hood, I’m tough and scary, but technology is cursed, Alan Turing was a witch-”

Jason stands. Tim is sure he’s about to either mess up his hair or put Tim in a headlock until he begs for forgiveness, even though he can see the hint of a smile twisting Jason’s lips upwards. Before a wrestling match starts, however, Jason freezes.

“Do you hear that?” he whispers.

Tim listens. He can hear nothing other than distant sirens. Burnley isn’t one of the worst districts in Gotham, but they’re too close to Crime Alley. These streets don’t get a lot of traffic. Not this early in the day, anyway.

Rather than explaining himself, Jason visibly shifts into Red Hood: his shoulders square up and he sets his jaw in a challenging scowl.

“Someone just parked on our driveway.”

Tim’s eyes widen. Could it be that they’ve been found out already? He made sure that the henchmen they got were too distracted by Ivy to notice them, but perhaps he had missed something. Part of him wants to go upstairs and grab his staff - even if that would be a stupid thing to do because he can’t exactly fight Dick into forgetting he lied to him.

Tim follows Jason to the entrance as he is, in his stupid oversized Superboy sweater and with toast crumbles all over his pants. He hadn’t even had his coffee. He peeks through the boards on the window and his stomach drops.

“It isn’t Dick,” he says. “It’s worse.”

Jason reads the worry in Tim’s eyes and lets out a curse. Technically, all the doors to the house are sealed. The only entrance is a block away and it leads to the basement/Red Hood bunker. Jason, however, seems to forget that and grabs the door handle angrily. Tim cringes when he hears the sound of frail wood being ripped because it means Jason’s strength is out of control - which means he’s getting near pit rage.

“How the fuck did you find us?” he barks from the porch.

Barbara Gordon is still adjusting herself in her wheelchair. The icy glare she gives Jason shows that she isn’t impressed by his fury.

Foreseeing disaster, Tim rushes out to put himself between Jason and Barbara. “It’s fine, let me talk to her!”

Jason glares at him. Although there’s a prominent vein pulsing on his brow and there’s definitely a hint of green in his eyes, he grits his teeth and stops. Tim sighs in relief before turning to Babs:

“Damian saw us, didn’t he?” he asks.

“What the hell does the brat have to do with this?” Jason hisses.

“Logic,” Tim shrugs. “I’ve been taking care of our digital trail. If Babs knows about us, it means one of the heroes under her watch saw us. Cass is in Hong Kong. Steph and Dick would’ve confronted us right away. The only option left is Damian.”

Jason groans and his eyes have mostly returned to their usual shade of brown. Tim had somehow annoyed him into calming down, which is a skill he’s getting better at every day. Tim smiles a little.

“Well,” Barbara says, her voice sharp. “You thought no one was going to notice two extra vigilantes running around?”

“Not forever, no,” Tim admits, trying to sound apologetic. "We wanted to be left on our own for as long as we could, though. We don’t need external interference.”

At that, Barbara looks scandalized. “Absolutely wrong. Get me a freaking ramp or get down here, Timothy, I’m going to beat the crap out of you.”

Jason lets out an annoyed huff, to which Tim glares at him. He has no business getting mad at Barbara for threatening them when he promises to beat Tim up at least three times a day. Five, if it’s not a school day.

“Why don’t we postpone the violence,” Tim suggests, his eyes not leaving Jason’s, “and just… have a chat? Inside? Jason just made tea.”

An annoyed grunt is all the response Jason gives him before making his way back inside.  He doesn’t slam the door behind him, which is as good as a yes. Tim rolls his eyes before climbing down the steps to help Barbara up the porch.

“By the way, how did you find our address?” he asks.

“Tim, please,” she huffs. “After I saw the footage from Damian’s bodycam, all I had to do was track your online footprint. You think I couldn’t notice the upgrades you’ve been making?”

That’s fair, and Tim should’ve predicted that possibility. Granted, if no one had seen them, Barbara wouldn’t know there was something to track.

He pushes her wheelchair to the living room where Jason is waiting for them. The older boy is sitting on their crappy couch with his knees spread out and his fingers steepled. It would’ve been an impressive crime lord pose to welcome someone if his green hoodie wasn’t sprinkled with toast crumbs.

Not that Barbara is that easy to intimidate.

“So what the hell happened?” She demands. “You left that night and went to meet the guy that almost killed you and two of your brothers?”

That stings. Barbara wasn’t there that night. Tim wonders if things would’ve been any different if she had been. Would she have listened to his theory or just called him crazy as Dick and Cassie had?

Well. All in all, he knew Barbara would always be there for Dick first. He never blamed her for that, because her partnership with Dick was far deeper than any impact Tim could’ve made in her life. He takes a seat by Jason’s side, farther from her.

“Damian also tried to kill me,” Tim reminds her. “And Dick fired me right after Jason offered me a job. Between the attempted murder and no job, and the same but with a gig...”

She takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“That freaking idiot,” she mutters to herself. Then, raising her gaze to meet Tim’s: “He didn’t mean to fire you.”

Tim clenches his teeth. “It sure seemed like it when I woke up and saw Damian wearing my old costume,” he snaps.

He feels Jason whipping his head towards him, and he curses himself. He had never revealed the gritty details of his dismissal for a reason. He reminds himself that Dick gave him Robin and it was his right to take it away, he has no reason to be this angry. That only serves to make him more bitter, though.

“I’m not saying Dick wasn’t stupid,” Barbara continues, her brow furrowing. “I already had some words with him about it. It doesn’t mean it was okay for you to just vanish for months, Tim. And then you’re back and you don’t talk to anyone. Not even Steph? Me?”

“Oh, fuck right off,” Jason snaps.

Barbara goes stiff. Tim groans, because now he has to push his anger further away to be able to stop the two of them. Before he can say anything, Jason continues:

“You’re talking as if I fucking kidnapped him. You know damn well how capable he is,” he barks. “The kid made a choice. I swear to fuck, everyone‘s a critic…”

Barbara opens her mouth but closes it again without saying anything. She presses her lips into a tight line. It isn’t often you see Oracle at a loss for words. For the first time, she looks at Jason without any animosity, her thoughts bare in her eyes. Unlike the boys, Barbara doesn’t play games. She doesn’t hide her emotions on purpose. The longing in her eyes is almost palpable, as though she’s seeing a dear relative she lost a long time ago, and she can’t reach them.

“What are you two thinking?” She asks. “What are you doing?”

“What we do best,” Tim says simply. “Vigilante work.”

“You told Dick you retired,” Barbara points out. “Then you ghosted him. He keeps waiting for you to come back.”

“He likes to do that,” Jason says. Now his voice is barely a whisper. “He says he’ll be there if you need him. Who says we need him, though?”

Barbara hesitates. “I told… Never mind. Just… I’m glad you’re back, Tim. And I’m glad you’re not dead again, Jason.”

Tim smiles. Jason looks like he wants to glance around to make sure she’s not talking to someone else. When it becomes clear she isn’t, he somehow looks even more uncomfortable.

“So,” he starts. “What now?”

“We fight for Tim’s custody, obviously,” Barbara smiles.

The peaceful moment ends when Tim and Jason start protesting out loud over one another. Barbara giggles at the cacophony of half-words, something along the lines of fuck off, not a child get your own damn kid responsible for myself-

“I’m joking!” She shouts to be heard over their complaints. “Jesus, you boys get riled up so easily.”

“I’m not a boy,” Tim and Jason say at the same time.

They glare at each other. Barbara rolls her eyes.

“Now,” she continues as though they didn’t interrupt her, “let me see your work, Tim. I’m going to give you guys a free upgrade.”

“Like hell you are,” Jason says. “How do we know you’re not spying on us for Dick?”

She arches an eyebrow. “Funny. I thought you two were fighting rogues, not Batman. Why would Dick want to spy on you?”

“Because he’s a meddler and he doesn’t trust me,” Jason states as though it’s a fact.

“To be fair, you did try to kill Tim. And Damian. And Dick,” she retorts. Before Jason can say anything back, she raises a hand to ask for patience. “It doesn’t matter to me, though. Barbara Gordon is Dick Grayson’s best friend and partner. Oracle, however, is an ally to anyone trying to protect Gotham. I’ll help you two like I help Batman, the Birds of Prey, and even Batgirl.”

Jason frowns. “I thought Cassandra was in Hong Kong.”

“Well,” Tim scratches his own nape, feeling suddenly guilty. “Actually… there might be a new Batgirl in town.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it!” Tim says. “I swear it just slipped my mind with everything else I had to report!”

Jason looks like he wants to grab a cushion and smother Tim to death. Before he can do as much, Barbara clears her throat loudly and says:

“Anyway… Support. I don’t talk about the vigilantes under my watch. Not to Batgirl. Not to Batman.”

Jason crosses his arms and leans back against the couch, his brow furrowed. Tim fights the urge to pat away the crumbs from his hoodie and waits patiently. Technically, this is Jason’s operation and he’s the one calling the shots. Tim has his own opinions, but in the end, a sidekick is supposed to follow orders.

Then Jason turns to Tim. “Replacement?”

He… does he want Tim’s opinion?

“I trust Barbara,” Tim says without hesitation. “And having Oracle’s help is going to be a game-changer.”

Jason considers that for a moment. It’s clear that he isn’t happy about the conclusions he’s drawing but, in the end, he sighs in defeat.

“Fine,” Jason says. “But if you tattle about what we’re doing, you’re gonna regret it.”

“Why, gee, Jason, how kind of you to allow me to help you guys,” Barbara snaps.

The two of them start bickering, but Tim tunes them out for a moment. It isn’t like Bruce and Dick never asked him for his opinion. They did. A lot. He simply hadn’t expected Jason to do the same. And so openly too. Bruce liked to pretend Tim’s input was but a piece to a puzzle he was assembling by himself. It seems like Jason isn’t above taking Tim’s words at face value and explicitly showing that he was part of the decision making.

It’s… nice. Not quite like being a sidekick, but not like having a whole team depending on him alone. Tim decides he likes this.

“Alright, alright, enough,” he says, standing up. “Come on, Babs, let me show you our office. Do you want some tea?”

“Anything but Earl Grey,” she says, allowing Tim to push her wheelchair towards the kitchen. “Don’t tell Alfred.”

“Wha… Does that make me the cook?” Jason complains.

Tim gives him a pointed look. “Do you wanna help her with the computer instead?”

Jason starts grumbling and cursing under his breath, but he still starts looking for something in the cupboards.

Unlike the Batcave, the secret entrance to the basement isn’t very fancy: just a couple of tiles that can be removed and a ladder. Tim helps Barbara out of her chair and she climbs down on her own. He has to admire her core strength. A little juggling with the folded chair later, he joins her and helps her to the seat again.

As soon as she’s comfortable, rather than rolling straight to the computer, she wraps her arms around Tim a little tighter. Surprised, but not much, he hugs her back.

“I missed you,” she whispers. “I’m so, so glad you’re back.”

Tim squeezes her. He always loved Barbara’s hugs. He doesn’t say anything, though, because he doesn’t think he can. There’s a knot in his throat stopping any sound from coming out. He tightens the embrace a little more and hopes she knows what he means without him needing to say anything.

Barbara pulls back first, her expression somber. “Jason looks better.”

“He is,” Tim assures.

“Still… I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do,” Tim says and there’s not a hint of doubt in his voice. “I… I guess I understand why he did what he did. And Jason is a hero too, Babs. I didn’t forget that, even if some of you did.”

She presses her lips into a tight line and at first, Tim thinks it’s due to the implied accusation. Then something clicks, and he thinks it must’ve been because he referred to the Batfamily as ‘some of you’. For a while, he refused to think of himself as an outsider - he was Timothy Wayne after all - but, at some point, it seems like he started accepting he might not be one of them anymore. It still stings.

However, he also realizes he can live with that. Maybe it’s because of how easy it’d been to get used to Jason, to this new normalcy that feels truly normal after so little time. Tim may have left, but it isn’t Red Robin and them. It’s us and them. And, if everything goes according to his plans, they’re soon going to be at least on the same side.

For now, it’s enough.

There was a time in Tim’s life when he didn’t mind making small talk. His mother drilled into his head that he was supposed to be pleasant and polite and that there’d be consequences if he embarrassed his father in front of his associates. Timothy could lose a whole week of his allowance for chewing with his mouth open during a business dinner. It was more about the inconvenience of being scolded than the punishment, really, but Tim learned pretty fast that being sociable and polite was easier.

It’s been a long time, though. Tim’s lost his touch. Or so it feels when he’s unable to shake off one of his annoying classmates.

“...and then you could totally join us this weekend for the tennis tournament,” she says.

Tim refrains from sighing. He thought all of his classmates had been warned not to mingle with that Drake kid. Even if he was Bruce Wayne’s newest charity case, he slept through most of the classes and talked back to the teachers. Unfortunately, Laney Gonzalez didn’t get the memo.

“I don’t think I should,” Tim says tiredly. “I’m not great at any sports, really.”

“Pff, like I’d believe you!” Laney chuckles and latches onto his arm, squeezing his biceps. “You think we can’t tell how muscular you are under this hideous uniform?”

For fuck’s sake. “No, really,” he tries again, gently prying his arm away with an awkward chuckle. “I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

Go to school, Tim, Jason said. You need an education, Tim. Why doesn’t Jason get an education? Then he could hang back after class, even though there are better things to do because Laney freaking Gonzalez decided it was a good idea to make friends with the weird kid. Tim’s attempts to reach the gates seem to go unnoticed by the girl.

“Come on, Tim,” she insists. “You never join us when we do class stuff. It’ll be fun. You don’t have to play or anything, just… hang out a bit?”

What is a polite way to say I’d rather get into a fistfight with Killer Croc , Tim wonders?

He’s about to make up a family emergency - is she going to notice that his phone didn’t buzz at all? - when he notices a small commotion near the exit. A group of students is eyeing the street curiously, and even the ones leaving are taking another glance at… something. Worried, he lets Laney’s speech about friendships in high school fly over his head, and he moves a bit faster. If something big happened while he was in history class, he’s going to freaking kill…

Jason.

Tim stops dead on his tracks because the thing his fellow schoolmates keep glancing at is none other than Jason Todd himself in all of his glory. He’s leaning against the biggest motorcycle Tim had ever seen and wearing his favorite black leather jacket. Tim is already considering the fastest way to kill himself even before Jason’s face splits into a wicked grin and he opens his arms.

“Timbers! Fancy seeing you here!” He says, no , shouts.

Kids in and out of the schoolyard follow Jason’s gaze and find Tim burying his face in his hands.

“Uh…” Laney is now keeping her distance for once. “You know him?”

Tim is already stomping towards Jason.

“What are you doing here?” He hisses.

Still smiling, Jason hands him a yellow helmet. “Picking you up. Not happy to see me?”

“What if Dick sees you?” Tim protests.

Behind him, someone gasps. Tim turns around and curses when he realizes Laney followed him and thought it was okay to listen to a private conversation.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I should’ve noticed it! For the record, I wasn’t hitting on you, if that’s why you kept refusing. I really just want to be friends.”

Jason looks vaguely amused.

Tim frowns. “What?”

“That’s your boyfriend, I assume?”

“No!” Tim hears himself shouting. “He’s my brother!”

Laney has dark skin, but Tim still notices the way her cheeks go a shade darker. “Oh gosh, is that right? I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you had any brothers other than Dick and Damian!”

Tim wants to die so bad.

“Actually,” Jason says, voice soft, dropping an arm around Tim’s shoulders, “I’m a bit of a family secret, so don’t go tweeting Vicki Vale about it, will you? We’ll know if you babble.”

Scratch that. He doesn’t want to die. He wants to kill Jason.

Laney nods hurriedly and makes a hushed promise to keep the secret. She mumbles something about texting Tim later - Tim is sure that she doesn’t have his number - and half-jogs away from them, her ponytail bobbing behind her. Well, that takes care of that. Laney Gonzalez is probably never going to speak to him again.

He turns around and punches Jason’s arm. “What the fuck was that?”

“I have a lead on that case from last night,” Jason hops on the bike. “Get on, loser, we’re going crime fighting.”

“We had a plan. You think Dick won’t notice you’re picking me up from school?” Tim complains. He’s already climbing the bike behind Jason, though.

“Tim, what did I tell you about plans again?”

Tim sighs as he puts the helmet on. He rests his forehead against Jason’s back as though he doesn’t even have the strength to sit up straight anymore. Make a plan. The plan goes wrong. Throw it away.

“Besides, Barbara knows. The Gremlin knows. It’s just a matter of time before we have Bitchard and Brat Girl on our asses.”

He starts the bike before Tim is ready, but Tim makes a point of looping his arms around his waist and swallowing a startled yelp when they go from zero to very fast.

It isn’t until they’re several blocks away from Gotham Academy that Tim fully understands what he’d just done. He told a random classmate he had an extra brother. He told her Jason was his brother. He briefly considers letting go of Jason’s waist and letting himself fall into the asphalt.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself. “I’m sorry.”

Jason eyes back briefly before turning his attention back to the street. Between the helmet and the speed, Tim didn’t catch even a glance of his expression, but he can picture it just fine. It’s been barely three weeks since they started living together, but this is normal for him now. He knows Jason’s mildly intrigued face just as well as his own.

“For what?” Jason asks.

“For saying you’re my brother. I panicked.”

Again, he remembers the early days at Wayne manor. Bruce had sworn off adoptions and Tim could only stay after he promised that wouldn’t be an issue.  Hell, Tim tried to keep his word even after his dad died, and yet…

Jason mumbles something that gets lost over the wind.

“What?”

“I said whatever, man!” Jason snaps. “I don’t think adoption expires after death. Technically we are brothers.”

Tim doesn’t say anything. He should know better than to keep making the same mistake.

But isn’t going after Jason a recurrent mistake in itself anyway?

“It’s better like this, to be honest,” Jason says. “It’d be weird to be living with a random minor, I guess.”

It’s basically an automatic response at this point: “You’re two years older than me.”

“I’m legally an adult. You’re not,” Jason reminds him.

“You’re legally dead, actually,” Tim points.

Jason barks out a burst of laughter. “Look at you, Timmy, saying such mean things. Am I a bad influence on you?”

“Now, that tone is creepy. Drop it or I’ll make us crash. You know I have no regard for my own safety.”

Tim is definitely doing that talking without thinking thing again.

“Ugh, don’t I know it,” Jason groans. “Should’ve considered that before taking a fucking kamikaze as my partner.”

Tim perks up. “Hey…!”

“You’re not allowed to name yourself Kamikaze,” Jason cuts him off. “First, that would probably be racist, and second, because you’re not naming yourself after suicidal pilots. You chose Red Robin. No takesie backsies.”

“Fine, mom,” Tim pouts.

Jason speeds up and Tim takes that as his cue to pretend the purr of the engine is too loud for them to talk.

For once in his life, Tim decides to really throw the plan away and see where this goes. This is just his new routine and Tim is nothing if not adaptable.

The case should be simple enough: someone had destroyed an underground casino and killed the bosses responsible for keeping the place running. All of the workers had been spared. They would consider it an everyday case if the same thing hadn’t happened again somewhere near the Narrows. The two places didn’t have anything in common other than the business they ran - gambling, prostitution… the works.

Tim spent hours thinking of a personal motive and so far he had discarded personal vendetta and random coincidence. The methods didn’t match one of the rogues they knew and, although he didn’t say it out loud, Tim feared they had another Red Hood like vigilante in their hands.

When Red Hood and Red Robin come out that night, they’re following one of Hood’s hunches.

“I still think I could’ve done this alone,” Red mumbles.

“I still think I could’ve done this alone,” Hood mocks in a high-pitched voice.

Red Robin glares at him and, even in the dirty dark alley, Hood doesn’t miss it. He sighs.

“Do you trust Oracle or not?” He sighs.

“Of course I do,” the boy mumbles. “Still, it would be more efficient…”

“To split up and have each of us cover a place. We’ve been over this. Oracle said she’d make sure the other place is closed for the night. If I’m right - and I usually am - our guy is gonna attack here.”

Red rolls his eyes but decides not to argue any further. He’s pretty sure this is punishment for forcing Hood to accept Oracle’s help, by keeping him close and refusing to let him do part of the job alone. Alas. Let Hood be petty for now. He’ll learn soon enough that having Oracle backing you up is too good of an opportunity to pass up.

However, now that he thinks about it, Red Robin hasn’t done anything big alone since his debut. Patrolling and stopping random muggins is one thing, but the attack on Black Mask’s warehouses? The bust of the big drug traffic operation at the harbor? This odd murder case? In all of these high profile cases, Hood demanded that he and Red Robin attacked together.

He makes a mental note to think about the possible meaning of that later. Right now he has to focus on finding suspicious activity, which is surprisingly hard. Once they’re at the strategic point Red Robin picked and getting set for the stakeout, Hood seems to have similar thoughts, because he comments:

“It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack, huh?”

Red sighs. “We’re not breaking into their office. We can’t risk spooking the murderer.”

The older boy shrugs and they settle down to wait.

This is a part of the job Red Robin was oddly fond of. There’s something about just sitting on a roof and waiting that is calming to him. He loved the adventure and solving mysteries and fighting bad guys and the thrill. That being said, there was something satisfying about taking your time and waiting to act. Just them too high up to be seen, the only witnesses being the cold night air and the certainty that they’re doing something good and saving innocents.

Tim wondered if it was fucked up of him to love this so much. He’s been in contact with the ugliest parts of humanity since he was a little boy, after all. After Cissie retired, he thought about it a lot. Like Cissie, he didn’t have special powers. He was just another boy that got himself into a crazy situation. Why couldn’t he be just another civilian, unaware of Gotham’s nightlife? Enjoy school, as Jason wanted him to? Live a long life, maybe die of old age?

Tim likes to think that the fact that he loves this so much means that he was made for this life.

“What do you think we’re facing tonight?” He asks.

Red Hood starts talking and Red Robin listens to him. Unlike Tim, Jason is all about instinct and passion. Whereas Tim collects clues and puts together theories, Jason understands the reasoning behind them and comes up with hunches that Tim couldn’t dream of. Red Robin loves to hear his hypothesis because it’s almost like having a book read out loud to you, and an enjoyable one at that.

He’s almost satisfied, all things considered.

Hood suddenly stops talking. As fast as lightning, he reaches into his holster and, before Red Robin even thinks of stopping him, Red Hood stands and points his gun at something - no, someone - right behind them. He pulls the trigger.

Red Robin opens his mouth in horror, but, rather than a lifeless body dropping to the ground he watches the invader dodge the bullet as though it’s nothing, almost gracefully. He reaches for his staff, but the invader is already running towards them again and Hood is getting about to take another shot. The invader’s cape flies behind them, dropping from their head and revealing... a familiar face.

Hood’s finger is already on the trigger and Red realizes this time she’ll have no time to dodge. Without thinking twice, he jumps between Red Hood and the woman.

“ TIMOTHY !” Hood barks, pointing the gun upwards.

“I know her!” Red Robin shouts at one of them. Maybe at both of them. “I know her! She’s my friend!”

The woman’s stopped as well. She’s looking at them with her head tilted to the side. Without minding Hood behind him, Red Robin faces her and takes in her appearance. She’s still bald. Still rocking all the scars - maybe she even has new ones? - and she’s still dressed like a grunge-rock singer from the late 90’s. He’d recognize her anywhere.

“Pru?” He confirms. “Prudence Wood?”

Her shoulders relax when she hears his voice. She reaches for something in her pocket - Hood gets tense again behind him - but all she grabs is a piece of paper. It’s crumpled and a bit dirty, as though she’s been walking around with it in her pocket for a while.

Without hesitation, Red takes it from her unresisting fingers and reads the words someone - presumably Pru herself - had hurriedly scribbled:

I knew this would get your attention, the paper says, I’m here to warn you. The Head of the Demon is coming after you.

And, just like that, Tim’s frail normalcy is gone.

[midnightmorales]

sitting out - f.f. (fictober!)

prompt number: one - "it will be fun, trust me."

fandom: shazam (freddy freeman × reader)

rating: e for everyone!

warnings: i don't think there's anything

word count: 2.1k

(i'm considering writing a part two to this, hopefully i'll get around to it!)

@delightfullyspeedyearthquake hope you enjoy it! 💕

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

"are you sure it's safe?" you asked your best friend as you peered down the side of her house through her bedroom window.

"of course," cassie said, moving you over to stand next to you. "i've done it millions of times."

you turned to face her, raising your eyebrow. "what? my parents never let me do anything." she moved, flopping down to sit on her bed. "sneaking out is really the only option,"

"we don't even like katy," you said, sitting beside her on her bed. "why are we going through all this just to go to her party?"

cassie laughed, allowing herself to fall back on her bed. "duh! she's the most popular girl at school. she invited us. if we don't come, everyone's gonna think we're lame,"

"i guess," you said, standing. you moved back towards her window, gazing through it once more. it wasn't that far down.

"come on, y/n," cassie urged you. she was still laying down, staring up at the ceiling. "it will be fun, trust me."

you took one last good look through the window before turning to face your friend. "fine," you sighed. "you're going first though."

"what?!" she said, bolting upright.

"it's your house!" you cried, gesturing to the walls surrounding you. "and you're the experienced one!" she rolled her eyes, staring at the ground for the moment.

"fine," she said finally, standing up from her position on her bed. "but you're knocking on katy's door when we get there."

"deal," you said, stepping away from the window.

you watched as she slowly climbed out, shuffling down the window sill. she grabbed onto the drainage pipe, and slid down it with ease. "now you!" she whisper-yelled from the ground.

you were sweating profusely, but you were determined to be brave. you copied your friend's moves exactly, making your way down the window sill and towards the pipe the same way she had.

you were just starting to feel confident in yourself, when your hand slid from the pipe. your heart dropped.

~

your fall to the ground wasn't too painful- seeing as you blacked out. when you finally came to, you were laying on your back in a hospital bed. everything ached.

slowly, you opened your eyes to see cassie and her parents by your bedside.

"mom, she's up-" cassie said, tugging her mother's sleeve.

"oh-" her mom spun to face you. "y/n, love, what were you thinking? sneaking out? for cassie, the isn't unusual." you noticed your friend rolling her eyes from her position behind her mother. "but you? i expect better from you, dear."

"i'm sorry," you said, staring down. that's when you noticed your arm. your eyes went wide, and your other arm flung up to touch the cast. all you could do from there was stare in horror.

"you broke your arm," cassie supplied. her mother threw her an angry look and gestured for her to sit down.

"your parents are on their way, sweetie. there's just a few more things to take care of here, and then you'll be home."

you gave her your 'you-are-an-adult-and-i-have-to-be nice-to-you' smile, while trying your best not to cry.

you had things to do! a life to live! how could you ever go on with a broken arm?! Surely, you thought, this was the end.

a few doctors came in and out before your parents arrived to discharge you. during the drive home, you all sat silently in the car. though you much preferred the silence to screaming, you knew your parents were livid, and were not eager for the scolding you'd receive when you got home.

as soon as your mom shut the front door, you expected the two of your parents to start yelling their lungs off at you, but they didn't. instead, your mother silently held out her hand. you instinctively placed your phone there, staring down at the floor.

you made your way to your room, where you could finally cry in private. all you wanted was to bury your face in your hands, but you couldn't even do that with your stupid cast!

you sobbed into your pillow for a good hour of two, before finally deciding it was time to put on your pajamas again and try to fall asleep.

you almost began to cry again, as you found that changing your clothes was a challenge now.

eventually, you got your sleeve over your cast, and got into bed. needless to say, you got no sleep that night.

you spent the entire night tossing and turning in your bed, trying to find the most comfortable position, only to end up crying 'til daylight.

you lifted your head from the pillow that was now soaked with your tears, staring at your ringing alarm clock blankly.

you let your head drop back down, groaning into your pillow. you knew that there was no way in hell your mom was letting you stay home from school, so you didn't bother asking. you merely pulled yourself out of bed, and began to get ready.

everything took a bit longer than usual, due to your injury, but you managed to get yourself out of the door on time.

as you walked, you kept your eyes focused on the ground before you, praying that no one would try to talk to you.

"y/n!" you heard. your head shot up to meet the eyes of the person who'd called your name.

oh god.

katy.

"so you weren't at my party last- omg! you broke your arm?!? wait, when? and, like, how?"

you sighed, not exactly eager to tell her the truth. "cassie and i were messing around by her window, and somehow i fell through," you lied.

"oh, you poor thing!" katy cried, giving you a one armed hug.

it wasn't that katy was rude, or snobby; on the contrary- she was actually kind of a nice person. there was just... something about her- maybe it was the way she talked, or the people she hung around- that made her so unlikable. or maybe it was her incredible ability to point out everything wrong in a situation.

"yeah," you mumbled.

"oh! you're going to have to sit out of gym! and it's your left arm, so you won't even be able to get out of school!"

there it was.

you frowned at the ground. you honestly hadn't thought of any of that. "you're right..." you looked up at the girl beside you. she looked genuinely upset over your broken arm. "hey, katy?"

"yeah?"

"sorry we couldn't make it to-"

"don't even! you arm is broken, y/n! you don't have anything to apologize for, and neither does cassie." you looked at her, confused.

"but, when you came up to me-"

"i was going to give you this," she interrupted. she stopped walking, and took her backpack off of her shoulders. she unzipped it, and pulled out a small cutesy gift bag. "everyone got one at the party, and since you two didn't come, i thought i could bring them to you at school."

you stared at the gift as she handed it to you. katy was a good person. "t-thanks," you smiled.

the two of you walked the rest of the way to school side by side. while nothing was said after the gift bag exchange, you still felt like you'd seen the girl in a new light.

you walked into the school, each of you placing your bags in the check area. "bye," you said to katy, grabbing your bag and heading for your homeroom.

you opened your locker alright, and almost even forgot about your broken arm. however, as you walked into homeroom, your teacher just had to remind you.

"y/n! now how did you do that?" the older woman pointed to your cast.

"i fell," you mumbled, making a beeline for your seat. but once you got there, you realized that someone else was sitting in it.

"billy, you can't just sit wherever, that's someone else's-" the boy who sat next to you stopped talking, staring up at you. "i'm sorry, i told him that someone already sat there, but he wouldn't move, and- hey, wait, did you break your arm?"

jeez, that kid could talk. "uh... yeah. a little." despite sitting next to this kid, you hadn't previously had any interactions. you didn't even know his name.

you stared expectantly at the boy in your seat. "billy!" the other boy whisper-yelled. billy rolled his eyes and stood up.

you smiled, sitting down just as the bell rang. you heard a laugh from behind you, and you knew it could only be the boy who'd been sitting in your seat.

you rolled your eyes, standing back up and scooping all your books into your one arm. you glanced over at the boy who sat next to you, and saw him grab a crutch from the side of his seat. huh. you hadn't noticed that.

"hey," you said, rushing after him as he left the classroom. "thanks, by the way,"

he shrugged. "no problem. he's my brother, so,"

"really?" you asked. damn! you couldn't remember ever seeing that boy's face in your life, and suddenly he'd been in your homeroom all this time?

"foster," he added. "he moved in a day ago,"

phew! you weren't as bad a person as you thought. nevertheless, you still didn't know this boy's name.

"so, uh," you paused, collecting every bit of courage in your body. this was going to be embarrassing. "what's your name again?"

he flashed you a half-smile, almost sadly, as if he'd been expecting this. "freddy freeman."

"oh," you said. that wasn't so bad, you told yourself. you'd gotten through it, and you didn't feel like an awful person. "i'm-"

"y/n l/n," he interjected, turning to walk into a classroom. "i know. we've sat next to each other for six months."

there, he left you, standing in the middle of the hall, absolutely speechless. you couldn't believe what he had just said. six months? and you STILL didn't know his name??? what kind of a person where you!?

as you were contemplating where you stood morally, you heard the bell ring. "shit!" you muttered, racing down the hall.

~

almost the entire day went by, and you couldn't think about anything but what freddy had said to you. during lunch and each of your classes, his words played on repeat in your brain; worst of all- you still hadn't been able to think of anything that would justify you not knowing his name.

"miss l/n, are you still with us?" mr. dowry said, tapping your desk lightly with his pointer finger.

"i- uh, yeah. sorry,"

he smiled. "good." he walked back to the front of the room. you saw him open his mouth, but as soon as he began to speak again, you just heard freddy, over and over again.

"we've sat next to each other for six months."

"...six months."

"...six months."

the bell rang, snapping you out of your trance.

"and, ladies and gentleman, that is why you should go to the dentist every six months! go to gym!" mr. dowry said, dismissing you and the sixteen other kids in your class.

gym was the last period of the day. and since the entire grade all had the same gym period, you knew you'd be able to talk to freddy.

you rushed to gym class as best you could- what with all the hallway traffic. you ran straight into the locker room, before remembering your arm.

"goddammit!" you muttered. in your hurry to talk to freddy, you'd forgotten all about your stupid arm! you hung your head, beginning the death walk for the bleachers.

"y/n!" you heard someone say. you looked up to see freddy smiling from the bleachers, motioning for you to for next to him.

once again, this boy left you frozen, unable to say anything. his disability had completely slipped your mind!

suddenly, you heard your gym teacher's whistle blow. you quickly snapped out of your dumbstruck state, and joined freddy on the bleachers.

"you okay?" he asked as you sit down. "you kinda froze up over there,"

shit, he noticed. "yeah," you laughed awkwardly, trying to play it off. "i'm fine though,"

he nodded.

an uncomfortable silence filled the air after your words. "maybe," you thought. "this would be a good time to make my apology,"

you took a deep breath, but just before you began to speak, freddy stopped you.

"look, you don't have to apologize for this morning. it's okay." you tried to speak here, but he cut you off again. "i'm used to it, y/n. people don't really pay attention to me," he stared at the floor.

"well..." you struggled to find the right words. "i... i'm paying attention now," he looked up at you, beaming, pure light pouring out of his eyes. he was honestly kinda cute. "tell me about yourself, freddy freeman. i'm all ears,"

[flower-power-feminist]

Why Should I Worry?

THEN:

It was a cold winter night, one where Jason normally would’ve been freezing his ass out on the street. But this night was different. He had been taken in Bruce Wayne and instead of being out in the cold, he was warm inside a loving home. 

He had settled himself in front of the fire in the living room and was scrolling through the programs on the television. Bruce wasn’t scheduled to be home from work for a while, tonight was going to be a late one. And since it was winter break, Jason decided to stay up and take advantage of being in a rich guy’s house. 

Alfred had left Jason some hot cocoa and for at least two hours, Jason just watched Friends aimlessly. There was absolutely nothing good on t.v. (And Jason refused to watch Rachel and Ross argue for what had to be the millionth time this episode!) 

Jason was getting bored and was collecting his things to go to his room to turn in. When he turned off the television he turned around to find Bruce standing at the exit. Jason jumped, Bruce always managed to find a way to scare him.

“Jeez Bruce, give a guy a little warning.” Bruce smirked.

“Turning in already? I was going to see if you wanted to watch a Disney movie.” Jason wouldn’t have minded that, but he didn’t want to seem like a little kid.

“I guess I could stick around a little longer.” Bruce smiled and went over to the case that held DVDs. 

“Which one do you want to watch?” Jason was intrigued, he hadn’t seen many Disney movies. He would watch old black and white movies with his mom.

“What do you have?”

“I have Treasure Island, Peter Pan, Mary Poppins, The Jungle Book, Dumbo, Robin Hood, Winnie the Pooh, The Rescuers, Oliver & Company-,” Jason intervened.

“Can we watch that one?”

“Oliver & Company? Yeah sure.” Jason loved that movie, his favorite song was ‘Why Should I Worry’ because he felt like that song described his life when he was on the streets. Bruce started the movie up and sat next to Jason on the couch. 

Bruce could tell that Jason was enjoying the movie when he kept trying to stay awake halfway through. Jason had rested his head on Bruce’s chest and kept fluttering his eyes. 

Eventually Jason drifted off and his soft snores filled the room. Bruce turned off the t.v. and tried to get up, but Jason gripped Bruce’s arm and prevented him from leaving. Bruce laughed, Jason was stubborn even while asleep. So Bruce stayed and waited patiently until he found himself asleep.

Alfred found the father and son tangled together on the couch and covered them with a blanket. 

“Sweet dreams, sirs.” And with that he left them to their own minds and dreams.

***

NOW: 

Jason had been on patrol and he could swear that he had nearly frozen solid. He hadn’t had time to fix the heating systems in his suit yet, and it was only the first week of December, he didn’t think it would be that cold. He was definitely wrong. And to make matters worse, he wasn’t even close to any of his safehouses; he was near the Manor of all places. 

He would’ve normally just suffered through it and gone home, but he was shivering so hard that he thought he might fall off his motorcycle. He and the Big Bad Bat were on better terms these days, but Jason was hoping that he’d already be gone once he arrived inside. 

Jason drove his motorcycle into the cave and saw Bruce in his Batman uniform, getting ready to go out. Jason’s vision was all of the sudden swimming, and when he got off of his motorcycle, he stumbled. Jason’s tumble landed him right on the floor. This earned Bruce’s attention, which is exactly what he was hoping to avoid.

“Jason?” Bruce rushed over, pulling Jason into a sitting position. 

“I’m fine, ’m fine!” Jason pushed Bruce’s hand away, and stood up to prove that he was indeed fine. But to Jason’s chagrin, before he could walk anywhere, he found himself looking at the ceiling. Alfred rushed downstairs after hearing Bruce yell. 

“My word, what is going on down here?” Bruce pulled Jason’s arm over his shoulder and helped him over to the med bay. Only after Jason was safely deposited in a seat did Bruce address Alfred’s question. 

“Jason, he collapsed by the hangar.” Jason barely managed to take his helmet off before Alfred and Bruce were both up in his face. Everything felt blurred all of the sudden and he couldn’t really feel his fingers. That probably wasn’t good. 

“Sir, what has happened?” Was Alfred talking to him?

“I feel fuzzy and my hands hurt.” Bruce immediately starts pulling at his gloves and his hands feel stiff when exposed to the air. Alfred took his hands with the utmost care and Jason saw his brows crease in worry. Alfred placed a hand on the side of Jason’s face and Jason couldn’t help but lean into it, his hand was so much warmer than Jason’s whole body. 

“I believe he has a mild case of hypothermia, Master Bruce. We must warm him up. It would be most efficient if you would wrap him in a few blankets while I gather some warm compresses. Perhaps ask Master Richard and Master Timothy to turn up the heat and start a fire upstairs.” Bruce pulled Jason’s arm back over his shoulder and helped him upstairs, simultaneously calling for Dick and Tim. 

Tim found them first, bringing Cass with him. Tim looked up, seeing Jason, and went into action mode. 

“What do you need?” 

“Tim, can you turn up the heat? Cassie, will you find Dick for me?” Tim and Cass hummed in response, going to do as Bruce asked. Bruce and Jason kept on walking until they reached the family room. Bruce helped Jason sit down on the couch, pulling blankets from seemingly out of nowhere to place over his son. Once Jason was settled, Bruce started making a fire. 

Dick came in nearly seconds later, his eyes immediately going to Jason’s form on the couch. Opting not to annoy Jason with his usual ‘big-brother’ antics, Dick moved towards Bruce and helped him with the fire. 

“Is he okay, Bruce? Cass didn’t say much when she came to get me.” Bruce looked over his shoulder to make sure that Jason wasn’t listening in. 

“Alfred said he has a mild case of hypothermia, so it could be worse.” Right about then is when Tim chose to enter, along with Cass and Damian. None of them said much, they just dispersed themselves throughout the room. Tim found a place on another couch across the room, Cass not far behind him. Damian sat in the armchair near Jason’s head and Dick found his way over to the edge of the couch Jason was lying on. Once everyone got settled, Bruce walked over to the DVD case. 

“What do you think about a Disney movie, chum?” Jason was brought out of his daze and nodded with the same look he had worn all those years ago. Tim chuckled and asked Bruce,

“Which one?” Bruce shrugged, but had a feeling he knew which one would be chosen. 

“I don’t believe I have ever seen one of these ‘Disney movies’. What is their significance?” Everybody gaped at Damian, even Cass had watched Disney movies before, and her childhood was less than fortunate. 

“How have you never seen a Disney movie! What kind of childhood did you have?” Oh, Dick.

“One filled with swords and learning ways to kill you with only a paperclip.” Everyone collectively sighed at Damian’s blunt and violent threats. Which prompted Bruce to bring the focus back to his original question.

“What do you guys want to watch?” Jason poked his heads a little further out of his blankets and confirmed what Bruce had thought he would say

“Let’s watch Oliver & Company.” So Bruce popped it in the DVD player and grabbed a seat in between Dick and Jason. 

Dick proceeded to sing every single song in a strange falsetto to make his siblings laugh. And if Jason had gradually drifted closer and closer to Bruce during the course of the movie, nobody chose to say anything about it. The kids fell asleep one by one, and eventually Jason was the only one still awake.

Jason leaned his head against Bruce’s arm, but it didn’t take long for Bruce to coax Jason’s head onto a pillow that he had in his lap instead. As Jason’s soft snores echoed through the room, Bruce began to drift off. He fell asleep to the realization that Jason finally got to see the end of the movie.

This is a drabble I wrote a while ago and posted on AO3. Find me on AO3 at sunshine_butterfly 💫 I hope you enjoy!

[tulipsandtesseracts]

Day 9: Storm (Carry On Series, Snowbaz)

Dec 1: Cozy (Carry On Series, Snowbaz) Dec 2: Ribbon (Carry On Series, Snowbaz) Dec 3: Red (Red White & Royal Blue, Alex x Henry) Dec 4: Light (Frozen, Elsa and Anna) Dec 5: Mistletoe (Carry On Series, Snowbaz) Dec 6: Icicle (Red White & Royal Blue, Alex x Henry) Dec 7: Warmth (Carry On Series, Snowbaz) Day 8: Comfort (Stargate SG-1, Cassie and Teal’c)

I am a bit behind. Just pretend it is still December 9. (Also, 100%: I posted a tiny Stargate ficlet and had to go freak out a little bit.) This is not the fic I meant to write, but Baz would not cooperate when I just wanted him to magic up a stupid snowstorm? So instead there is this which is more post-Wayward Son found family stuffs.

Day 9: Storm (Carry On Series, Snowbaz)

I’d planned to have a peaceful afternoon catching up on some reading before Simon got home from his shift at his new job. And it had started that way, before Fiona called, and Mordelia texted, and Bunce needed to verbally process her plans for the rest of her life prior to leaving the flat for the evening.

Simon should be home any minute now. He’ll be tired after handling customers all day, though, so I probably have another hour or so to read while he watches some show or other to decompress.

I continue to labor under this illusion right up until Snow bursts through the door of the flat, storms across the living room, and throws himself onto the couch with such force that I can feel the bounce of it from the opposite end. I glance up from my book and make note of his red face and his disordered hair, which is pointing in several different directions at once in a way it only does when someone’s been tugging their hands through the curls.

Since I’ve been sitting here reading for the last hour, I can only assume Simon’s turned his hair into a bird’s nest himself.

From the far end of the couch, he cocks an eyebrow in an aggressive way that I often regret teaching him. I shrug in response and return to my book. “Lovely day at work, I take it,” I say, keeping his voice level. Casual. Bored.

Simon snorts. “The shop was fine,” he says.

“Hmm,” I reply, turning to the next page. “Holiday rush?”

“Not much yet.”

I nod. “Bunce said to tell you she’ll be at the library this evening, and you’re to do the dishes.”

Simon lets out a sound that falls somewhere between a groan and a shout.

“It’s just the dishes, Snow.”

“Cut it out, Baz. You don’t have to coddle me.”

Direct questions rarely yield useful information when Snow’s in a mood like this. I know it. Simon knows it. Simon knows I know it. There’s a great deal of knowing it’s true and very little to be done about it. Usually the roundabout path is the better one, but it seems Simon’s not in the mood for it tonight.

“All right, then.” This was definitely not the evening I expected, but then again, things rarely are when Snow’s involved. I set my book down on the coffee table. “What’s got into you, exactly? If we were back at Watford, you’d have smoke coming out of your ears, and I’d be worried you were about to burn the tower down.”

“Lady Salisbury stopped in at the shop.”

Ah. That would explain the mood - the long-lost and newly-devoted grandmother. (And hadn’t that been a shock to everyone concerned when it had come to light this fall?) “She probably came in person because you never answer your phone. Which, as your boyfriend, I can assure you is quite annoying.”

Simon kicks the table leg. “You’re quite annoying.”

“My life-long goal.” I pause, then try again. “I assume she wasn’t just calling in to say hello.”

Snow drags his fingers through his hair, and yes, that’s definitely why it looks the way it does right now. “She wants me to come visit on Saturday,” he says at last. “Said she’s ‘having a few friends in for dinner.’ And my uncle.”

“And?”

“And what?” He kicks at the table leg again, but it’s softer this time. “I couldn’t very well tell her no to her face, could I?”

To be honest, I’m surprised he didn’t. “Not without becoming the main gossip at the club,” I say, considering. “Magickal society loves a good family rift.”

“The club,” he scoffs. “Last summer they’d all but forgotten I exist. Except your parents, who we both know wish they could. But I’m a Salisbury now, so suddenly everybody cares?”

I don’t say anything to that. He’s not wrong, but we’ve been round and round this track before. It doesn’t go anywhere.

“And how is it a rift when I was never really family in the first place?” he goes on, still properly worked up.

“Don’t coddle you?” I ask. “Are you sure about that?”

He makes a face and then shrugs. “That’s what I said.”

I sigh, then I scoot down the couch to sit closer to him. “Simon, you avoid her, you don’t take her calls, and when Dr. Wellbelove first introduced you, you ran out of the room like you had goblins to slay.”

“Slaying goblins was easier. I don’t even know how to have a family.”

He’s still grumpy. But when he moves, it’s to close the rest of the gap between us, pressing his shoulder up against mine.

It’s a miracle we are having this conversation, I remind myself. That he’s not just in his bedroom lying down with the curtains drawn, or sitting here next to me, not touching, not talking, not living. The fact that he’s not yet noticed he’s been here with Bunce and myself these last few years, having the best approximation of a functioning family we can give him, is best left for another day.

“You smile at the ones you hate,” I say instead, “and make fun of the ones you like. It’s not that difficult.”

“I don’t think normal people do family like you and your aunt.”

I wave a hand. “Well, you can run around tripping over each other and trying to steal the best books for yourself, if you want to use the Bunce model.”

“Not for books,” he says. “Maybe if it were scones instead.”

“I’ll fight Bunce for the books, then.” I tap my foot against his. “If she were here, she’d say something optimistic. That Lady Salisbury means well, or some rot like that.”

“Except she’d say it while telling me what to wear and which fork to eat with.”

I can’t help myself. “See, you do know what it’s like to have a family.”

He smiles, just a bit. “Penny’s not here. What do you say?”

“Lady Salisbury means well.”

“Baz.”

“It’s a nice house,” I offer. “No wraiths, so it’s better than visiting my parents.”

“Also, she actually wants me there.”

“Also that.” I lay my hand on his leg, palm up, and wait for him to take it. “Go see your grandmother,” I say when he does. “If it’s miserable we’ll go to the pub when you get home. If it’s not, you can take me for baked goods in the morning. You win either way.”

He nods, then leans sideways to look out the window. “Maybe we’ll get snowed in.” He frowns as though he can manifest snowflakes himself. He turns back to me. “Can we get snowed in?”

“The forecast is clear as a bell through next week, sadly.”

He squeezes my hand. “You have a magic wand!”

“Weather magic’s dangerous, Simon,” I say in my best Penelope Bunce voice.

He cracks up laughing, his morose mood gone just like that.

I’ll never completely understand, but I don’t really care. I’m just glad to see his smile.

“I’m hungry,” he says, when he’s calmed down again.

“You’re always hungry.”

“It’s your fault for talking about pastries. Did Penny really say the thing about the dishes?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, Snow.”

“Will you help?”

I shove his leg with my foot before sliding back to the other end of the couch and retrieving my book. “Go do your chores, Chosen One. Then we’ll find you dinner.”

“All right.” He gets up and heads for the kitchen. “I like that plan.”

So do I.

[argylemnwrites]

Looking Back

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield)

Book: Open Heart (almost 2 years after Chapter 1 of book 2)

Word Count: ~1900

Rating: PG-13 (light language, innuendo)

Summary: A night of celebration causes Cassie and Bryce to take a look back.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry it’s been so long since I wrote Bryce fic! The pandemic writer’s block was particularly brutal for this couple, but I am pretty happy to be back with our favorite flirty, confident surgeon! This story is for two of the “Things You Said” prompts - 11. Things you said when you were drunk (as requested by @sunnyxdazed, @choicesarehard, and an anon) and 22. Things you said after it was over (as requested by @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl and @omgjasminesimone). It also works for the Choices May Challenge Day 29 prompt (Memories).

“Nah, I’m good,” Bryce said, shaking his head as Jackie attempted to pass him a shot of tequila.

“Lahela, you can’t pass on drinks tonight! We’re celebrating!” she called out, raising her arm and drawing cheers from several others around them, including Cassie.

“You might be celebrating, but I still have to preround at 6 am tomorrow,” Bryce replied, shaking his head as Cassie grabbed the shot glass Jackie kept trying to hand him, throwing it back in rapid succession with the shot Jackie had already given her. Man, tonight was going to get sloppy.

“That’s on you for choosing a specialty with such a long residency,” said Jackie, quirking an eyebrow before downing her own shot. “It’s not our fault you surgeons are so dumb and cocky that you need those extra years of training just to be competent physicians.”

Bryce grinned at her, grabbing the empty shot glasses Cassie handed to him as she reached for a lime. He would let her have that one tonight. After all, it was her graduation night. 

The internal med graduation had been pretty much what Bryce had expected. Decent food, but watered down drinks and boring speeches by the hospital bigwigs, all culminating with the program director going over each resident’s career plans and handing them a certificate. At least Cassie’s table had been a good one with Elijah, Phoebe, and his parents, a med-peds resident named Amber who Bryce didn’t know well but who had been fun to talk to, as was her husband when he wasn’t trying to corral their two year old son, plus Cassie’s parents and Keiki, able to come thanks to Amber only needing two tickets. And thankfully the faculty member assigned to their table was an endocrinologist named Dr. Liz Aubly, not Ethan Ramsey. Bryce had forced more than enough awkward small talk with the man at the monthly diagnostics team dinner he’d gone to with Cassie last week, and he got the feeling Ramsey was not thrilled that he was now officially Cassie’s date for all such events. Over the next two years, with Bryce on his research years while Cassie remained at Edenbrook for her diagnostics fellowship, their paths were going to cross often.

But tonight wasn’t about looking forward, it was about looking back and remembering three years of patients and long hours and crappy coffee and not enough sleep. Now that the formal portion of the graduation was done with, most of the third year IM residents had ditched their families and taken over Donahue’s, celebrating having only two weeks left as residents. It was the only time they all were off at the same time, excluding the annual resident holiday party, since starting residency, and people were letting loose.

“Wait, we didn’t toast to anything with this round,” Elijah noted after he tossed his lime slice onto the growing pile in the middle of the table. After the first couple of rounds, things had turned decidedly sentimental, with the group rotating what event from their three years of residency they were commemorating. So far, they had toasted to adopting their pet turtle Sal Monella, Jackie being named one of next year’s chief residents, Cassie getting reinstated, and swapping out Landry for Aurora as a roommate. 

“You’re right!” Cassie cried out, stumbling off Bryce’s lap. “I’ll go get us another round so we can do things properly.”

Bryce grabbed her wrist, stopping her abruptly. “What?” she asked, her eyes blazing as they locked on his, clearly ready to fight him if he dared to question how much everyone was drinking.

“I’m going with you,” he said with a grin, standing up and subtly sliding his hand down her back, hoping she saw it as a loving, flirty gesture and not an attempt to steady her and keep her upright. Cassie was typically a pretty agreeable drunk, if a little handsy, but she got absolutely livid if anyone implied that her coordination and proprioception were at all impaired by her drinking. He had enough sense not to tell her there was a good chance all the drinks would be ending up on the floor if she did this by herself.

Together, they made their way over to the bar, crowded with dozens of other IM third years. Cassie leaned over the bar, trying to find a free bartender, but quickly abandoned her mission when she wasn’t immediately successful.

“You should do the next toast,” she said, spinning to face Bryce, steadying herself just slightly by leaning back against the bar.

Bryce shrugged, “Nah, tonight’s for you guys. I’m still just a lowly resident for the next four years.”

Cassie grinned, sliding a hand forward and grabbing a belt loop on Bryce’s pants, pulling him toward her. “Where’s all this modesty coming from?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I know I’m still the best surgical resident at Edenbrook. In fact, now that you are moving up in the world, I am losing some competition for best resident in all specialties.”

Cassie laughed, dragging her hand across his hip and sliding it into his back pocket, giving his ass a light squeeze, prompting Bryce to waggle his eyebrows at her.

“I see you’ve reached a very boldly flirty stage of drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, but sliding her other hand into his other pocket at the same time, “I just found a comfortable place to rest my hands. Besides, in a couple of weeks, I’ll officially outrank you, so I gotta enjoy this-” she added, giving him another squeeze for good measure, “-while I still can.”

He chuckled at that. She wasn’t going to be supervising him at all, so it didn’t really matter, but Jackie had taken to teasing Cassie that their relationship was going to become suddenly scandalous and forbidden when Cassie became a fellow. “Are you sure you want to move in together, then? It might be hard to keep your hands to yourself around all of this-” Bryce gestured an open hand up and down in front of his body “-when you have 24/7 access.”

Cassie tilted her head to the side, a coy little smirk forming. “Yeah. You know why?”

“Why?” he asked, humoring her as he lifted a hand to tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

“Because you helped clean up after that first party in our apartment.”

His hand froze next to her cheek. He’d completely forgotten he’d done that. He’d mainly just been looking for something to do while waiting to say goodnight to Cassie, or rather, hoping he wouldn’t have to say goodnight. Pitching in with cleaning up the trash had just seemed like the natural thing to do. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“It’s when I knew you were a good person, not just some overconfident hot guy. It’s when I knew you were boyfriend material, not just a casual fling.”

Bryce didn’t quite know how to respond to that. His feelings for Cassie evolved gradually, slowly, naturally over the past three years, going from seeing her as that cute dark-haired medicine intern to the person he loved and trusted most in the world bit-by-bit, day-by-day. He didn’t have some moment with her that was some great epiphany where he realized he wanted more or saw her differently. He just cherished getting to know her better, seeing different sides of her, and adoring nearly everything that he discovered or she revealed. But Cassie had apparently seen depths in him from the start. He wasn’t sure if it put their early hookups in a different light or not, but all he could really do at this point was appreciate that they had come this far together, no matter how they got there. So he gave her a gentle kiss, pulling back as he saw one of the bartenders coming toward them and flagging him down, ordering another round of tequila shots, plus a glass of water for himself.

Soon, they made their way back to the table, Bryce carrying the shots while Cassie focused on not bumping into people. She waited for him to pass around the drinks and sit back down before she plunked herself back onto his lap, looping one arm behind his neck and grabbing one of the shot glasses with her other.

“What are we toasting to this time?” Jackie asked, raising her glass and looking around the table expectantly.

“I have one,” said Bryce, causing Cassie to twist her head to look at him, her eyebrows raised and her pupils blown wide, “To that first party you guys threw at the apartment. It really was the start of everything.”

Everyone clinked their glasses together over the center of the table, with some “Hear hears” and “To the parties” scattered in the mix, but Cassie didn’t throw back her shot right away. Instead, she kept her eyes locked on Bryce’s, offering him a brilliant smile before wrapping her other arm around his neck in a tender hug... and unfortunately dumping her shot of tequila down his neck and under his shirt in the process.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” she cried out once she realized what she’d done.

“It’s fine,” Bryce said with a little shrug, “but I do think that signals the end of the festivities for me.”

“Party pooper!” Elijah yelled out, but Bryce just shook his head. 

“Someone has to actually be functional enough to take care of patients tomorrow, and it’s certainly not going to be anyone else at this table. Cassie, you coming over to my place, or are you going to keep the party going with this crew?”

“Your place,” she said without a moment of hesitation. “I spent the night with you after my first party of residency, so who am I to buck tradition at the last one?” Bryce grinned at that, noticing Elijah just shaking his head out of the corner of his eye before Cassie leaned over and kissed him, sliding her hands along his shoulders before pulling back.

“Get a room,” Jackie said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m trying,” Bryce replied over Cassie’s shoulder. “Come on, babe,” he said, helping Cassie to her feet before standing up and slinging an arm around her waist, waving goodbye to their friends as he navigated her towards the door. 

“I can’t believe I’m basically done with residency,” Cassie said as Bryce pulled out his phone to order a Dryve. “It’s been three years already. How has it been three years?”

Bryce just chuckled, guiding her down the large step off onto the sidewalk as they left the bar. “Time flies when you’re working 80 hours a week for minimum wage, huh?”

“Something like that,” she replied, pivoting to face him and tugging him into a loose hug. 

“Looking back, anything you’d want to change?”

She seemed to ponder that for a moment before shaking her head, “I mean, I probably could have done without the suspension, but I think it helped me grow. I don’t know. I guess even with all the drama, I’m happy with how things turned out. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, Cassie,” he said, squeezing her tight and running his hand along her spine, “it does.”

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

Open Heart:  @tallulahshh @rookie-ramsey @omgjasminesimone @ao719​

Bryce x MC:    @thequeenchoices​  @fortunatelywaywardsandwich​   @dreaming-of-movies​  @choicesarehard​  @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl​  @maria-soederberg​ @mskaneko​   @sunnyxdazed​

Event Tags: @choicesmaychallenge​ @kinda-iconic​

[elisaphoenix13]

The Sorcerer's Cub (Ch.5)

Stephen wanted to kill one of his cubs. The oldest one. The little potato troll. Harley. He wanted to kill Harley. Why? Because he gave his little brother sugar. Normally that wasn't a huge deal and Peter could go burn it off during patrol, but that was currently out of the question as Peter was a baby. It took five minutes if chasing the toddler around the family floor before Stephen got fed up and sent Levi after Peter, and the cloak happily caught the baby. Now, it was currently swinging Peter back and forth while Stephen sat on the couch and covered his face as he tried to relax. The swinging wouldn't amuse Peter very long, but as long as he was giggling, Stephen could rest. Harley of course was nowhere to be found after the sorcerer caught him giving Peter some cookies, but if he went looking for the teen, he would probably find him down in the lab with Tony.

"MOMMY!" Diana yells from her bedroom and Stephen groans quietly.

"There's nobody here by that name." He mutters under his breath as his five year old daughter bounds down the stairs and over to him.

"Mommy I can't find my crayons." Diana carefully grabs Stephen's wrists and pulls his hands away from his face to pout at him.

"Did you leave them downstairs with Cassie?" He asks her softly and Dia shrugs.

"I don't know...but I dont know if it's okay to go downstairs."

That was a plausible concern. Diana spent lots of time with Cassie and was constantly going down to Scott and Quill's floor to spend time with her. The couple were thankfully careful about keeping their bedroom activities in their bedroom because of it, but there was a time that Diana almost walked in on them. Thankfully FRIDAY understood that what was happening definitely shouldn't be seen by young eyes and stopped the elevator, and managed to convince the little girl that she was incorrect about Cassie's location and took her back up to the family floor. Stephen and Tony had told Diana that she needed to ask FRIDAY or Victor if it was okay to go downstairs from then on.

"Why don't you ask? If you can go look, maybe you can take your coloring books downstairs and spend time with Cassie." Stephen suggests, but it was only met with a grumpy expression.

"I wanna stay with you!"

Stephen sighs. "Alright. Find your crayons first though."

Diana nods and asks FRIDAY to check and make sure she can go downstairs to look for her crayons in Cassie's room, and quickly got the go ahead from the AI. Stephen didn't even hope that Diana would get distracted and change her mind about staying with Cassie because she was stubborn. Like Tony. Once she made up her mind, that was it. Now Stephen would have to entertain two young children and one of them was sugar high. He didn't mind when the kids weren't full of sugar, but when they were, he felt like he could only handle one child at a time. Any normal day, he could wrangle all three without blinking.

He was so far into this mom role that being called Dad would confuse him. Peter tried before just to see how he would react and Stephen didn't even turn his head. He automatically assumed Peter was talking to Tony.

The elevator slides open minutes later and Stephen looks up to find Quill walking out holding Diana like a football. The little girl giggling madly with a box of crayons in her hands as the celestial carried her into the living room.

"You went downstairs for crayons Diana. Why did you come back with your Uncle Quill?" Stephen asks with a smirk.

Starlord snorts. "I've been kicked out until further notice."

Stephen stands and grabs Peter from Levi when the baby stops giggling. "What did you do?"

"Apparently I'm a walking furnace and Scotty isn't feeling good right now. Neither is Cassie. I think they have the cold."

Quill sets Diana on the ground and she disappears up into her room temporarily to grab her coloring books. She returns with a couple of books in her hands and spreads them out on the coffee table with her crayons, and Quill collapses onto the couch and turns on the tv. Diana actually grabbed a second book with her brother in mind, and miraculously Peter was all for coloring. So Stephen had set the baby down by the table to color and sat on the couch next to Quill, handing the requested colors to the kids when they asked for them. Or in Peter's case, whatever color Stephen grabbed first. He didn't care about specific colors.

The sugar wore off about half an hour into the coloring session, and Stephen soon found Peter curled up on the floor fast asleep. He had taken to watching tv when his fingers started to cramp, so looking down to find Peter snoozing on the ground had been a pleasant surprise. He didn't want to risk picking him up, so he grabbed a pillow to slip under the baby's head, and Levi was more than happy to settle over him as a makeshift blanket. The cloak was always happy to help the kids. It loved the kids. It was as protective of them as Stephen was.

"Can I have a snack?" Diana asks quietly and Stephen looks at the time displayed on the tv. Past three. Dinner wasn't for quite some time.

"What would you like?"

"Cheese and crackers?" His daughter questions and the sorcerer nods as he gets up and makes his way to the kitchen.

Not only did he make Diana her cheese and crackers, but he also added some grapes for her to munch on (she loved grapes, specifically the green ones), he grabbed a beer for the pirate on the couch, and chocolate truffles for himself. Now that Peter had burned through the sugar in his system, Stephen needed some of his own. Once he returned to the living room with snacks and a drink, he gave Diana her requested food, relinquished the beer to the celestial who took it with a thanks, and Stephen settled back onto the couch with his truffles. He almost moaned at the first bite. Chocolate was one thing he selfishly indulged in and he never ran out because Tony always made sure his favorites were stocked. Surprisingly, no one ever tried to swipe his chocolate, but he wasn't about to complain.

So he enjoyed his chocolate as he watched tv.

At least until he caught Quill giving him a weird look.

"What?"

Quill turns his attention back to the tv and takes a couple gulps of his beer before answering. "Nothing. I'm just wondering if you charge people to watch you eat chocolate."

Stephen could practically hear and feel his mind skid to a screeching halt. "What do you mean?"

"The way you eat chocolate is really--" The Celestial pauses and glances down at Diana, and then up at Stephen. "It's kind of suggestive."

Stephen opens and closes his mouth like a fish as he processes Quill's words, and then suddenly, everything clicked into place. Peter and Harley always looked embarrassed. The team always had smug looks on their faces if they weren't sidling up to him and pointing out any bits of chocolate he missed...and Tony? Really, he felt stupid for not seeing it. Tony always manhandled him into their bedroom to have his way with him. Stephen couldn't believe how oblivious he had been, and everyone was having fun with it. Quill was the only one who hadn't seen the sorcerer with his chocolate and he was blunt enough to point out that he was indulging in the delicacies like a starved whore.

Well now he was going to have his fun.

"We never had this conversation." Stephen says with just the slightest smug smile and Quill stares at him for a beat before grinning.

"Dude, I'm just talking to you about this pretty fucking awesome movie I saw the other night."

Diana gasps and looks up at Quill. "Uncle Quill! That's a bad word!"

Stephen laughs as Diana reprimands the pirate for his language, and then laughed even harder when Quill had looked incredibly lost. A grown man was being scolded by a five year old and he wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. So he just ended up sinking into the couch and finishing his beer in silence after Diana was through with him. Peter had meanwhile woken up from his short nap, Levi floating up and away to its usual corner of the living room, and Diana pushes her plate of snacks closer to her brother to share. Stephen immediately took the grapes when the baby reached for them and bit off half of one before offering the other half to Peter. The baby takes it happily and munches on his half of the grape and Stephen continues to offer the other half of the grape to Peter while giving whole ones to Diana when she requests it. Quill once again gives him another look, but this time it was amusement.

"You really are a mom."

"Peter could choke otherwise." Stephen says as Peter reaches for a cracker instead.

"That's what I'm saying. Before Yondu kidnapped me, I saw other moms do that for their kids...and I'm sure my mom did it for me too." Quill smirks. "Do you lick your thumb to wipe away dirt smudges too?"

"It's gross." Diana confirms and Stephen turns bright red when Quill howls with laughter.

"Shut up." He grabs the god's empty beer can and chucks it at Quill's head.

The outlaw's laughter did eventually die down into occasional snickers, and then he finally settled. When he did, he actually leaned forward to color with the kids when Diana and Peter asked him to join, and Stephen slyly had Victor take a picture and send it to Scott. It would hopefully be something to lift his spirits since he was feeling under the weather.

"Look at you Porcupine. Embracing your inner child?" Tony says as he and Harley step off the elevator and Quill responds by throwing a crayon at the engineer.

Stephen was too busy glaring at Harley to see where it had landed. "I should put you on diaper duty for giving Peter sugar."

Harley pales instantly. "NO! MOM! I'm sorry! Please don't make me do that! That's totally weird and I will never be able to look at him the same way again!"

"Then don't do it again."

"Harley! Come color with us!" Diana half demands of her older brother and he sighs when Peter echoes her.

"Color!"

"Okay, fine." The teen sighs as he joins his siblings at the coffee table.

"Look, if I have to color, you have to too." Quill points his crayon at Harley.

"What does it look like I'm doing Spacecase?"

"Harley." Stephen scolds and the teen grumbles as Tony sits on one of the adjacent couches.

"Sorry."