#literally because the same thing happened to me

[luvyeni]

crazy questions ๑. ( 희승 - 제이크 )

[ req? yes / no ]

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ──── who would’ve thought your random questions would lead to you being fucked by your best friends ..

( 対 ) lee heeseung and sim jaeyun + fem. reader wc. 3k genre smut · contains! unprotected sex , a little mlm ( their tongues touch ) , oral mature content. / back to library

heeseung and jake. they were your best friends , your roommates, they were use to you saying odd shit ; so normally they turned a blind eye with just a head shake — ‘that’s just yn , she says weird shit all the time’ they’d say when someone would ask why they didn’t flinch when you said crazy obscured things.

but this time they couldn’t let it slide; especially when you said it so smoothly they both thought they were sharing some weird dream. “is it possible for two dudes to eat a girl's pussy at the same time?” you said with the blankest face ever. “what crazy choices of words to form a sentence.” jake said , his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “why are you asking this?” heeseung asked.

���well i was watching a video — it was porn.” you started. “and there were two guys and they were eating the girl out at the same time , but they were both in between her legs.” both boys were now turned to you , looking at you and then at each other. “what porn are you watching?” jake asked. “it just didn’t look comfortable , her legs were so spread out and the boys looked uncomfortable and would flinch every time their tongues touched.” you said. “like if you’re gonna eat out a girl together you can’t be afraid to do a little tongue touching , it’s not that much space.”

“i literally have no idea how to answer this question.” heeseung said; for the first time you’ve left them speechless with the shit you say — “obviously it’s possible seeing as you’ve seen a video.” jake said. “but comfortable? i’ve never eaten a girl out with another dude before.” he said. “but you do have a point you can’t be scared of tongue touching the other guy.” you shook your head in agreement , heeseung laughed at the both of you. “what is wrong with both of you.”

“would you do it seung?” you asked. “eat a girl out with another dude?” he let out a light huff like chuckle. “are you okay with a little dude on dude tongue touching?” you said in a teasing tone. “i would.” jake spoke up. “we know you would , you have a lot bisexual tendencies that we’ll address later down the line.” heeseung was staring you down now. “what?” you asked nonchalantly — like you didn’t just ask your best friends the most outlandish question. “it was just a question , i didn’t ask you to co-sign a loan.”

“i think he might be thinking about it.” jake said. “or maybe he’s done it before.” heeseung rolled his eyes. “heeseung.” you drew out his name. “have you done this before , who was it with? sunghoon? jay? oh my god! who?” you were genuinely intrigued now. “i haven’t done it like that with anyone,” he said. “did he just admit to us he’s had a threesome before?” you asked jake. “i think so , did you know about this?” jake shook his head no. “it wasn’t me , must’ve been sunghoon.”

“it was jay.” you both gasped. “you and jay had a threesome?” you basically shouted. “bro why didn’t you tell me.” jake said. “because it happened like a week ago and we were all drunk.” he said. “it just happened me and jay haven't even talked about it.” he said. “why is it awkward , did you two kiss and it made your dick twitch a bit?” a pillow was tossed at your head. “umph-” he picked it up ready to hit you again. “shut up.” you were doubled over in tears; holding your stomach laughing as he continuously hit you with the pillow. “okay , okay i’m done , i’m done.” you held your hand up. “stop whacking me with that damn pillow and get your heavy ass off me.”

you wiped the tears from your eyes. “i can’t believe you had a threesome before jake; if anything i thought you two would do that together.” you said coming down from your laughing session. “i always thought you two would be the ones to do that together.” you shrugged. “us?” jake said. “yeah , i mean you two always spend everything waking moment together so i assumed you two would definitely fuck the same girl.”

“you think about us fucking another girl together?” heeseung said; jake smirked. “i didn’t — is that why you looked that up; wanted to see if it was possible and if we could do it?” jake spoke up. “i don’t like how this turned to me.” you said feeling the shift in the air. “why are you so shy now? you were so bold telling us the porn you goon to.” “it was just a question.” you mumbled , heeseung chuckled. “you were curious; so it had to be a thought you’ve had before am i wrong.”

well he wasn't wrong; maybe the thought had crossed your mind a few too many times for your liking. the look on your face told them everything they needed to know. “ah not another girl.” jake said. “you.” your eyes widen. “no-no that’s not — we’ve been friends for years we know when you’re lying.” he said. “you don’t know anything.” you said trying not to sound like you been caught even though all three of you knew you had. “i thought about it.” heeseung said. “can’t think of a day i didn’t think about it for even a second.”

“what?” before you could even say something about it jake spoke up. “me either , i thought about it the moment you said something earlier.” the look of shock on your face made them laugh. “what , you walk around here shorts tiny as fuck and without a bra , saying sexual shit all the time like it’s normal.” he said. “i’m your best friend but like i’m also a man yn.”

“not to mention these walls are thin as fuck and your room is right next mines , and let’s just say that pillow you bite down on isn’t helping at all.” heeseung said, you gasped jake quickly followed up. “fuck the thin walls i can hear her down the hall , she’s fucking loud , is there ever a day you give yourself a break?”

“well you listen , you don’t have to.” you said turning to heeseung. “and i don’t say anything when you walk around here without underwear like a slut.” he giggled , it was the most attractive thing you’ve heard in a while. “you think i don’t see you looking , you’re not subtle at all , just how we both know you feel jake staring at your ass all the time.” clearly there was some kind of tension that had been looming over the apartment that finally boiled over. “and we never said we didn’t like hearing you , just said we hear you; every single night , and now we finally know what you’re in here watching and what you’re thinking about when you’re in here stuffing yourself with your fingers.”

you bit down on your bottom lip; your thighs pressed together tightly; once again heeseung calling your bluff. “you’re getting turned on?” jake catching on , his eyes trained on your thighs waiting for the slightest bit of movement. “are you?” you were ready for them to get out so you can get rid of this new ache in between your legs. “okay , time to get out.” you said. “why aren’t we having fun?” heeseung pouted. “or is it because you want turn on your porn and goon out?” it felt like they were teasing you now , you whined. “fuck you heard that?” jake said. “told you sounds even better up close , when it isn’t muffled by a useless fucking pillows.”

heeseung tapped your bare thigh; his eyes darker than they were before — full of lust and hunger. “you gonna be a good girl and open them for us or am i gonna have force them open?” he gripped them , this is where you could’ve told them no , and they’d listen you could tell their eyes were also looking for a sign of rejection. but you’d also be a idiot to turn them both down; which is why you don’t say anything, slowly opening your legs. “you said you want to see if it’s possible?” his eyes flickering to jake who was looking at the both of you , mouth dry as he watched. “let’s see.”

jake got the hint; heeseung pulled you down so you were laying on the bed , pushing your legs far apart so they both could sit comfortably in between your legs; you let out a moan , then stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, you were surprised on how flexible you were. “moaning already and we didn’t even do anything yet.” jake who’s eyes hadn’t left your clothes lower region , brought his fingers to your clothed cunt , pressing down. “let me take these off , let’s see that pretty pussy.” you nodded and he quickly grabbed the waistband, pulling them down. “look at that.” heeseung kissed the inside of your thighs. “soaked right through these panties.” pulling them down your leg , your lower half now bare to them both.

“look at that; she’s fucking dripping.” heeseung smirk. “how long have you been thinking about this?” you whimpered , the light feeling of their breath on your cunt. “fuck just touch me.” you huffed frustrated. “oh someone is fucking needy , not even a please.” jake chuckled. “real ungrateful, here we are trying to worship your pussy and this is how you treat us.” heeseung pouted. “i’m upset princess , i don’t think we should give her anything jake.” “you’re right; she doesn’t deserve it.”

“n-no please touch me.” you shifted your body a bit , heeseung holding you down. “say it again.” jake smirked , you would’ve slapped him if you weren’t in this predicament. “pl-please touch me.” you repeated. “please.” heeseung hummed in satisfaction. “i think that’s enough , i feel like she deserves a reward right?” jake nodded. “i think we should test her theory out yeah?” heeseung agreed. “show her that it’s possible right?”

you felt the feeling of both their tongues on you, gasping out. “oh fuck.” you moaned; head falling back against the pillows. “oh my god.” you’ve been eaten out before , but this new feeling of both of them on you was addicting; eye rolling in fact , you had no clue what to do with your hands , but they eventually found themselves tangled in both of their hair yank at both their roots as they licked at your folds.

jake was definitely enjoying himself; just as he thought he would, jake never doubted his attraction to you , he was attracted to you the day you moved in; heeseung as well. they often talked about it together , the things they’d do to you, hearing you moaning and whimpering at night when you touched yourself , of course they've touched themselves to you , both thinking about what it would be like to have you , touch you , taste you — to fuck you. hearing you ask that question just set them both off , they had to have you.

they both were so deep into it , they didn’t even flinch like the guys did in the movies when their tongues touched; if anything it made it hotter to them , hearing your moans up close , not being blocked from the walls , tugging at their hair as you shout out a mixture of both their names and curse words. “fuck , fuck i’m about to cum.”

you felt the stretch of a finger entering your cunt. “so fucking tight , how can you take a cock if you’re struggling to take a finger?” jake cursed. “she’ll take what we give her.” heeseungs burned holes into your skin with his stare , wait for jake to add another finger pressing on your clit. “right.” you nodded. “yes yes , fuck!” you shouted. “you gonna cum yeah?” you nodded. “gonna make a mess.” jake switching between fingering you and licking your folds , heeseung staying up to rubbed your clit , watching your every movements. “i wanna see you cum.” he said biting his lip. “go a head, cum.”

a loud moan ripped from your throat as you came , your legs unable to close , which encouraged them to keep going. “ca-can’t , too mu-much.” heeseung pulled his hand from your clit , slapping in between your tighs , jake had to be pulled away. “calm down , gotta give our girl a break here.” jake’s lips were glossy , licking them. “sorry , she just tastes too good.”

“did you like that?” heeseung asked , you nodded. “it-it felt good , but my legs are a little sore.” you giggled , heeseung let your legs down , jake moving out the way. “it’s achievable for sure , but fuck after a while i thought i was gonna lose feeling in my legs.” you could feel heeseungs hard on pressed against your thigh. “seems like i wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it.” you grabbed his cock , he groaned. “was it me or was it jake.” he scoffed , grabbing both of your wrists. “you’re such a fucking brat.” he turned to jake. “lets do something about that yeah.?”

your shirt was quick to go along with their clothes , heeseung pushed your legs open once more , jake on the side of you. “get a look at these.” the aussie boy grabbed your boob. “been waiting to see these for months now , real nice.” he gave your bust a squeeze, you didn’t have a chance to even react to that because heeseung was pushing himself past your folds. “fu-fuck you’re so tight.” he groaned. “such a tiny pussy -fuck- you’re choking my cock.” cursing as he stretched you out. “heeseung fuck!”

as quick as he entered you , he was moving; his hips slapping against yours. “come here.” jake guided your hand to his cock. “lets put that pretty mouth to use.” helping you guide your mouth down on to his cock. “oh fuck.” he sighed , throwing his head back. “such a good cock sucker.” he held the back of your head , using your mouth to get off. “god damn , such a good cock sucker.” he pushed your head down , gagging on his cock.

it was pure pleasure that you were feeling; heeseung pushed your legs to your chest as he pounded into you. “oh fuck such a good cocksleeve huh , letting us use you like this - fuck - is this what you think about when you’re in here alone?” he grunted. “playing with your pretty pussy while thinking about your best friend use you like this.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “look , we’ve fucked her dumb.” jake still using your mouth. “sh-shit , should’ve used this mouth long ago.”

“wait until you feel her pussy , fuck i’m in heaven.” you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you; unable to warn them , your legs shaking as you came— no you squirted , all over heeseungs lower half. “of fuck , she squirted.” he pulled out , stroking his cock. “fu-fuck!” he came directly after ; painting your stomach white. “shit that was too fucking hot.” he huffed.

jake came not soon after; pushing your head down. “gonna let me cum in your mouth? fill your tiny throat with my seed?” you nodded. “good girl -fuck- then take it all the way.” he held your head down, groaning. “ah fuck.” his cock twitching as he came. “sh-shit.” he pulled out , tapping his wet cock on your cheek. “fuck , i’m still fucking hard.”

it didn’t stop there either , the three of you went at it for what felt like hours. sometimes one of them would take a break and you and the other would go at it , it was like the three of you were trying to drain each other of everything you had — and you did , the known but unknown tension in the apartment fueling the three of you until it didn’t any more and the three of you passed out right then and there , covered in sweat; the room smelling of sex.

you woke up last , the sheets were changed; your body covered in a shirt that wasn’t yours and a pair of panties. you slowly got up, the consequences of having your legs open for that long definitely caught up with you in your sleep , trudging down the hallway to the living room. “oh she’s risen.” jake said with a smile. “you’ve been out for 4 hours , i was certain you were gonna sleep the night , really did a number on you.” heeseung smirked to himself. “oh haha , laugh it up , sorry i don’t have the fucking stamina of a high rhino like you two.”

“us two?” heeseung said. “baby you’re the one with the never ending stamina.” he said as you sat down. “we were trying to keep up with you.” jake nodded in agreement. “at one point i was about to tap out completely.” your face was hot. “you’re either really freaked out or you really wanted to fuck us” you scoffed. “you definitely have many talents.” heeseung said. “you were real eager to show us them too.”

“says the only who was overly excited to play tongue twister with his best friend in between my legs.” you bit back. “why am i in it?” jake said. “you and that mouth , gonna get you in trouble.” he said. “really?” jake stood up from the table. “count me out this time , i have nothing left in me.” he left the both of you at he table. “i’d rather tap out now , than embarrass myself by shooting blanks later , you two have fun.”

heeseung burning holes into your skin once again. “what are you looking at?” he didn’t say anything, just got down on his knees under the table opening your legs. “st-stop im sensitive.” you whimpered. “good.” he said.

“i want you in tears by time im done this time.”

©️LUVYENI

[crazydoughnutlady]

I opened my door… and it was her again

It was the same time traveler that kept crashing on my couch. I knew it was her even if she came back in different parts of her life each time.

“it’s it’s December 30,2019 and-” I began to rattle off the important information I so long ago, promised to give to time travelers. At the time I was hoping there would be more than just the one that always crashed on my couch. However I didn’t even start to rattle off the important major events that had happened when she interrupted me

“There’s a new sickness it’s going to change the world forever. You should stock up maybe some toilet paper maybe some snacks… you should probably get a real computer” she says, apathetically from the couch covered in bruises from who knows where and cuts from who knows what.

“what’s wrong with my laptop?” we had had this argument before or perhaps it was the first time for her. I could never tell when things happened for her, she always jumped about. Sometimes she was an old woman bringing me cookies one days the next she is a sassy teenager just looking to try and steal some of my wine.

“it will break and you’ll be trapped in your loneliness with only me to talk to, and we both know you’d go stir crazy from only talking to me” she rolled her eyes, apathetically, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV to flick through my Netflix.

“well where I’m gonna get the money for a new computer? Ever think about that miss time traveler?” in response, she threw a credit card at me. “who is this this?”

“A horrible person that you will hate in a few years time and that’s all you need to know don’t worry he has plenty of money to give you a computer so you’re not bored out of your mind.” She smiled like the cat that got a canary all teeth and no joy.

I rolled my eyes, “Fine I’m buy myself a damn computer if you tell me something…”

“sure as long as it doesn’t destroy the future, I’ll answer it”

“What’s your name you’ve been here countless times for me or maybe it’s just a few times for you. I can’t tell. Can I at least have your name?” She had been crashing on my couch on and off for about four years now, and never once had I successfully weaseled out her name.

It almost seemed like time stopped if it weren’t for the cars driving out the window or the neighbor’s loud ass TV next-door. I would think the world had frozen in place as she stared at me with her eyes unlike any other human I’d ever met unlike any creature from earth it was nearly impossible to describe her eyes when I first met her she wore sunglasses for that exact reason. They are swirling shifting colors, and pupils that seem to melt and morph each moment. She was a perfectly average looking person otherwise, but those eyes… nothing had eyes like those.

“Corona” with a simple word The spell was broken and she turned back to my Netflix. “if you must call me something you can call me that.”

It wasn’t lost on me that her name was literally the female version of the word Crono, named after the Greek Titan of time Kronos. But it is something a name to finally call her bye so the next day I went out and bought a new computer with the dubiously gained credit card.

——————————————————

I was sitting in the living room because there was not much else to do with the whole world on lockdown. Corona was right, there was a sickness that really changed the world hilariously COVID-19 and Corona the time traveler did sound a bit alike.

With barely inperceptible moment, completely invisible to anyone who is not familiar with time travelers the living room went from peaceful and calm to stilted and fearful.

There was a child on my living room floor. There was a small child crying her eyes out.

It was Corona but I’d never seen her this young. The youngest she had ever gotten was 14. The little girl in front of me could not be older than five.

How do you handle a crying child? One that probably doesn’t know you or perhaps does? She’s always been a mystery. Why does she always come back to me no matter apartments no matter cities no matter countries wherever I am she will always show up in time.

I sent to the floor tentatively, reaching my arms out for a hug, but not yet touching her, “hey, hey, it’s OK. I’m here. You’re OK. what’s wrong?” She looked at me with those strange, shifting eyes the pupils bigger and wobbly like little splatter shapes and her colors spinning wildly in various hues of blue.

“Mama?” She looked with wonder in her eyes and sniffled. She completed the hug that I had previously offered wrapping her arms tightly around me. “I knew they were lying! I knew that they were lying when they said you were dead! You’re right here!”

…

WHAT?

I’m her mother!?!

I mean, sure we have the same hair color and whenever she’s around my age, we look a little similar… but that doesn’t mean I’m her mom! I mean, what did I fuck to get eyes like that?

“Sweetie I think you’re a little confused. I’m not your mom… my name is Sarah Hillson, what’s yours?” I tried to take control of the situation. Maybe the child just made a mistake. I mean, why would someone spend so much of their life with their dead mom?

She looked up at me, those strange eyes, swirling evermore. “I’m-” she sobbed, “I’m Coronasvalin Ticker… but all my friends call me Corona”

“nice to meet you, dear you can always come to my place. Today is July 18, 2020”

You once made a promise to yourself: if you ever met a time traveler, it wouldn't be a big deal. You’d tell them the date, the most important political conflict, a recent technology, and send them on their way. You now encounter a time traveler nearly every week.

[cloudabserk]

people talk a lot about armand’s “you’re an eager black hole/not much more to you than a hole” speech, and they mention armand is probably also talking about himself, but they usually focus on the innuendo of the statement and rarely really get into how completely armand is metaphorically a black hole especially in the books

1. in TVL lestat talks a ton about armand pulling him into his extremely strong orbit in order to destroy him

2. in IWTV when armand breaks up with louis, louis basically says “you were into me because i was different than you, but you lured me in and by being with you you sucked all the life out of me and now i’m empty like you”

3. in QOTD daniel talks about how armand has a magnetic pull that literally draws people to him, it’s not even intentional it’s just something that happens (not to mention by being with armand all these years the same thing happened to louis is happening again, daniel is kind of getting the life sucked out of him by trying to keep up with armand)

there’s also all the gross older men who are like wow armand i’m so DRAWN to you i can’t HELP it… must be some intrinsic property of yours, certainly not a reflection of my own desires

and in the show & book, one of armand’s main ways of hunting is he hangs around in public and waits for people to come to him

[dameronspector]

Time in a Bottle (Part 2)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Wife!Reader, Past!Manny Alvarez x Reader

Summary: You wished you could save time in a bottle. You wished you could stay longer with him. You were supposed to spend the rest of your days in marital bliss, turning gray and wrinkly together. And then, your husband decided to risk his life and save her. And She brought in ghosts from your past while taking away your reason to live at the same time.

Warnings: Angst. Suicidal Thoughts. Cursing. Canon-typical Gore and injuries, Blood, Based on s2 episode 2. This is literally pain. Major character death. Thoughts of vengeance. Reader goes crazy later. References to Past Manny x Reader (I am assuming Manny to be in his mid-thirties so Reader's age is the same). Manny is kind of toxic now because of his jealousy, If you’re an Abby defender, please click off right away because this is only Abby hate. Reader wishes to kill abby and the salt lake crew.

AN: here is part 2. enjoy <3 (will write a fix-it fic after this i promise)

“Stop. Stop it. You want me, leave her alone. Please”, Joel begged in a shaky voice. You sobbed harder, he’s never begged in front of such losers before. Abby chuckled. “Oh well, we don’t want to hurt her anyways.”

Your heart fell down to your stomach. No matter what happened, they were going to take him out. And looking at Joel’s reaction, you knew he had accepted it already. He had not opposed to anything ever since she had you cornered. You should’ve understood this. But your mind was clouded with desperation and anger. “No…”, you whimpered and tried to reach for Joel.

“But I am going to kill you. Because, it doesn’t matter, if you have a code like me…or you’re a lawless piece of shit like you. Because there’s just some things that everyone agrees are fucking wrong”, Abby conceded, her eyes filled with tears.

Your stomach curdled in anger. “Oh save it, you were in the fucking military. Don’t act like you’re a saint, moron”, you furiously yelled at her. Abby glanced at you with her bloodshot eyes. You stared her down and looked at Joel. He was way too quiet. He simply nodded his head in agreement and gulped against the lump in his throat.

“Baby, don’t let her get to you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Joel, please. Please!”, you begged him. He turned to look at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears and unwavering love for you. He had already made his peace. “I love you, honey”, he whispered. Your eyes widened and your sobs grew louder. “NO. No, shut the fuck up, Joel. Tell that to me when we get back home!”, you struggled against Manny, your legs kicking his feet and nails burying into his arms. Your throat hurt, your voice coming out croaky. Manny tightened his arms around you out of jealousy. How, and why, were you in love with this vile man, was beyond his comprehension.

You were sobbing so much that you didn’t notice Abby get up and make her way to the golf kit. “Sweetheart, look at me. It’s okay. You’re hyperventilating, look at me”, Joel tried to placate you with his sweet and caring words. And then she spoke up again. “You know, it’s funny, I’ve waited so long—”

Joel rolled his eyes in irritation. “Oh, just shut the fuck up and do it already!”, he roared in an agitated voice, cutting off her boring speech. You almost laughed, your husband had no patience for stupid monologues before anyone had to do something immoral. He always said it felt like they were trying to justify their actions by a senseless and dramatic speech like this. But you couldn’t, because this was the first time that he had said it out loud. “Joel- what?”, you asked him breathlessly.

Abby turned around with a golf club in her hand, twirling it aimlessly in her hands. Your eyes widened. “No- what the fuck? You fucking psycho!-”, you thrashed around, your breathing laboured, causing you to feel dizzy. “You stupid, old man…you don’t get to rush this”, Abby declared and-

She swung the golf club directly on Joel’s injured knee making him scream in agony.

“NO! No- no, please, please. Hurt me instead, please. I’ll-I’ll tell you whatever you want, please-pl-”

She swung the golf club on his knee again, the sound of bones cracking echoing across the room, alongside Joel and your screams- his in pain, yours in despair. Manny’s eyes were shining with fear and vengeance, his and Owen's face blank out of disbelief. Mel was crying and Nora's eyes teared up.

“No, please, don’t hurt him. Please. Manny, leave me please-”, you sobbed and turned your head to look at Manny, your tearful eyes looking up in his with desperation. Manny closed his eyes and his cheeks shook from how tightly he was clenching his jaw. As you turned your head away from Joel, Abby swung the club against his knee again. He howled in pain. You whipped your head back to your husband and saw his mangled knee. Your body shook with gut wrenching sorrow and you sunk to your knees, dragging Manny down with your heavy body. You moved your arms and pushed Manny away from you when Abby signaled Owen to take over.

You were reaching for Joel, his body shaking with painful breaths and grunts before Owen came over and tried to hold you back. Manny snapped his head up and held your arms in his hands before shaking his head at Owen. “Owen- no. Abby! We talked about this-”, Manny tried to convince Abby in a desperate effort to protect you.

“Shut the fuck up, Manny”, Abby glowered at him and punched Joel in the face. Joel groaned in pain, blood rushing out of his nose and his cheek already swelling up.

“Joel- hey, baby- look at me-”, you tried to call out to him in an attempt to keep him alert before Abby barked orders at Owen to shut you up. Owen clenched his jaw and aimed his rifle at your knee before firing a shot. You howled out of pain and doubled over, holding your thigh. Joel tried to look at you before heaving out a request, “No, leave her alone! Baby-”, Abby punched him again.

“Fuck-”, Manny exclaimed, and whipped his head to look at Abby. “I told you she was not a part of this, Abby!”, he barked at her. She ignored him and kept punching Joel to a pulp, his face covered in blood and swollen. Your hands were stained with your blood now, the blood oozing out of the wound. Your breathing was laboured and you felt like the whole room was spinning in circles. Manny tried to put pressure on your wound but you scowled at him.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Alvarez”, you spit at him with a waver in your voice and turned your attention back to Joel. Your face twisted in pain. His handsome face was covered in blood and cuts. You whimpered and tried to get up when Owen kneeled next you and locked your hands behind your back, forcing you down to press your cheek to the ground. “Leave me- no- Joel, JOEL!”, you let out helpless sobs and felt your head swim. She just kept punching Joel, your Joel, and your strong and brave Joel was left lying helplessly on the ground.

-

You had lost the track of time. You were losing blood rapidly, causing you to become delirious and your body was shivering. Your heart was lying across you, his head turned towards the door. You didn’t even know what was the damage done. How much did that psychotic, vengeful girl had hurt him. All you knew, was that his breathing was getting fainter and you could do nothing but lay there and cry in pain.

She kept punching him. You wanted to get up and beat her to a pulp, then and there. But you were so exhausted, the wound in your knee sending throbbing jolts of pain throughout your body that made you feel paralysed and you couldn’t move against that tall man holding you down. You felt like you were underwater. Your ears couldn’t hear anything except the sound of Abby’s fists hitting your beloved husband’s face again and again.

You were losing blood rapidly, your body violently shaking and the cold was seeping into your bones. Manny noticed this and shoved Owen away from your body. Owen tried to protest but Manny shut him down with a stare. He took off his belt and made a torniquet around your knee and draped a jacket on you. You couldn’t register any of it, your body and mind completely focused on Joel. He was still there, you could feel it. Abby raised her fist again before the door swung open.

Ellie.

“Joel! Joel- get up!”, she yelled out to Joel.

You whimpered in relief and reached for her with an extended arm. “Ellie…”, you whispered tearfully. You found the strength to sit up again, leaning your weight on your arms and grunting when Nora and Manny tackled Ellie and forced her down. “Joel! Joel fucking get up!”, she kept yelling desperately when Manny forced her down again and she sliced his face with her knife. Your chest swelled with pride when Manny seethed in anger and tried to get his lick back.

“Stupid fucking bitch-”, he charged at her and Owen tried to hold him back but he pushed past him and delivered a swift kick to Ellie’s ribs. Ellie gasped out a choked noise and your insides swirled with a fury that you had never felt before. Your limbs shook, as you used up all of your energy and hobbled over to Manny, grabbing him by the collar and punching him square in the nose. You smirked as you heard the satisfying crack of the bones. “Don’t fucking touch my daughter, Alvarez”, you seethed at him. You saw the way his jaw ticked and Owen tackled you, turning you around and making you face Joel.

Your body felt paralyzed. Not out of pain, but after looking at Joel’s face. His beautiful face was a mangled mess- one eye swollen shut, a huge cut across his eyebrow, the same eyebrow that you would press kisses to, his face covered with blood, his lovely curls damp because of it. His hands laid by his face and he was still using his remaining energy to look at you and Ellie with so much emotion in his eyes. He was still breathing. But at what cost?

Your ears were ringing, your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. You couldn’t hear anything except for Ellie’s desperate cries for Joel to get up. You whimpered with pride when you saw that he tried to lift his head up for Ellie and your world came crashing down when Abby stabbed him in the neck with the broken golf club.

Your heart stopped. How could your heart beat anymore when Joel wasn’t breathing anymore? How could it be alive anymore when Joel was lying there, motionless and his eyes were staring at you blankly-an arm extended in your and Ellie’s direction, trying to reach you two even in his last moments. You couldn’t feel or hear anything after that. Not Ellie’s heartbreaking sobs, not her threat to Abby, not the group packing up their stuff as if they had just finished a picnic, and not even Owen finally releasing you. A pair of shoes obscured your view of Joel and pulled you up in a sitting position, your body lax and eyes fixed in a blank stare at Joel. You didn’t even feel the pain when your knee bent and aggravated the wound. The person holding you straightened your leg and held you by the arms.

“(Name), hey”, Manny patted your cheeks to bring your attention to him. Your head lolled against his hands, your gaze solely on Joel’s unmoving body. “Look at me, (nickname), c’mon. Let’s go”, he tried to pull you up. Your ears managed to catch that and you lazily turned your gaze at him. You felt disgust crawl up your throat. Even after killing your husband and hitting your daughter in front of you, he had the audacity to ask you to go with them.

You panted and raised your shaky hands to fist his jacket before slapping him across the face, hard enough to split his lip and make his cheek swell instantly. His mouth fell open and he turned to looked at you with bloodshot eyes. “Remember that until I come back to kill you, Manny Alvarez”, you spoke in an eerie, calm tone. Manny averted his eyes from your anguished and vengeful ones and moved away to gather his stuff. Nora finally released Ellie and she whimpered before crawling to you, laying her head on your lap. Her tears soaked your lap and you laid your hand on her head, free hand caressing her back.

The group was about to leave when you suddenly let out a maniacal chuckle. They looked at you with unease. “You’re a coward and a fraud, just like your father, Abby. He was a fake fucking doctor who was injecting drugs into a non-consenting teenager and was performing brain surgery without even knowing if it was gonna work. You talk of a code, but neither your father, nor you, followed a code. That’s why you’re both frauds”, you stated in between chuckles.

Abby looked like you had slapped her across the face and the entire group turned to look at her with a shocked expression on their face. Manny clenched his jaw and stared down Abby with teary eyes. “I’m so fucking proud that my husband was the one who killed your dad. He deserved it. And oh, I’ll make sure you regret keeping me alive. You should’ve just killed me when you had the chance”, you finished speaking and stared directly into her eyes with a crazed look in your eyes. Abby swallowed thickly and rushed out of the room, the rest following her.

The room was now housing your little family, Ellie's sobs echoed in the still room, while she reached for you desperately. “(Name)- he-”, she couldn’t finish her sentence without choking on her sobs. She looked up to your emotionless face. You were completely detached from the world and that made her chest hurt. She lifted her head from your lap and crawled over to Joel and removed the golf club sticking out of his neck before throwing it away. Her smaller hands covered his hand gently and she draped her body across his back. “Joel-Joel-please…”, she sobbed against his hair. She looked so much younger than her age right now. It broke something further in you.

You numbly crawled across the space and sat down in front of Joel’s body. Ellie lifted her head, her face red and damp with tears and snot. He was just here- reassuring you that everything will be okay. You were supposed to go back home and cook dinner, then take a walk around the town before going back home and cuddling on the couch until you fell asleep. He was supposed to get up in the morning and make you coffee, kiss you tenderly and play with Benji while annoying Maria with Tommy. You were supposed to spend the rest of your lives together- happily. You raised your hand and brushed his blood soaked curls, lovingly scratching his scalp like you would always. You laid down on your side, scooting closer to him and memorised his face while running your thumb along his hairline and Ellie looked at you, crying harder. “You can rest now, baby. Thank you for everything. I love you so much”, you whispered to him and closed his good eye with care, pressing a kiss to his forehead, not caring if his blood transferred to your lips. You draped an arm across Ellie and laid there next to his lifeless body, trying to come to terms with whatever happened.

-

You don't know how long did you lay there next to him. The room got cold and your leg was throbbing even more now. Ellie was still letting out tiny whimpers and you could do nothing except rub her back. Finally, Jesse arrived on the scene and tried to digest it. He quickly helped Ellie to get up before they tried to bring Dina back to consciousness. You still hadn't moved, eyes fixed on Joel's face. His hand was so cold and pale now, you held it between your palms and caressed it gently, trying to warm him up.

Jesse had to pry you away from his body. You tried to break out of his arms and wouldn’t let him wrap Joel’s body so he had to unwillingly lock you in a separate room. You banged at the door until you couldn’t, eventually passing out from exhaustion and blood loss. You came to when you were on your horse, completely leaning against him and the slow up and down motion of his body lulling you back to a sleep, your eyes opening and closing in an attempt to stay awake. Your bleary eyes caught sight of Jesse and Ellie on a horse and Dina on their right. You also took notice of your right leg feeling heavier, as if someone had wrapped it in something and you promptly passed out again.

-

You woke up to commotion. There was a lot of noise around you, hands trying to help you down from the horse and then familiar hands catching you before cradling you to their chest. Your eyes fluttered open to see Tommy leaning over you with a sorrowful expression on his face. There was a bloody cut on his face and it reminded you of Manny for a second.

“Sweetheart? Are you alright? Wake up for me, c’mon”, he begged you and shook your body slightly.

Your eyes kept opening and closing. “T-Tommy?…”

“Yeah, are you okay? We need to get you to the clinic and-” “Where’s Joel?”, you asked him with confusion written across your face.

Tommy stiffened up and felt his throat close up. He just saw his big brother’s body bag being dragged away. He was holding his injured sister-in-law in his arms. He just took on a whole horde of infected and a bloater by himself. He was exhausted. He needed this to be a dream. How was he going to make you relive your husband’s death when you were so out of it?

“(Name), we need to get you to the clinic, c’mon, you need to get your knee checked, Sister”, Tommy forced down his sobs and tried to distract you. You pushed away from him and tried to sit up, your eyes darting everywhere.

“N-no. Where’s Joel, Tommy? He was right here with me-” Tommy stopped you and held you by your arms. “Sweetheart, look at me”, he requested gently.

You reluctantly brought your eyes back to Tommy’s and saw his grim face. His eyes were bloodshot and filled to the brim with tears, his expression so pained that you thought he was injured.

“Why are you crying, Tommy? What’s wrong? And where’s Joel, please-” “He’s not coming back….he’s not coming back, (Name), please”, Tommy trailed off and broke out in a sob.

You froze. And it all came back to you. Abby. Manny. The torture. The killing. Ellie’s sobs. Joel’s screams. And you? Lying there, helpless. Doing nothing to help him or protective him.

You shook your head vehemently, still in denial about everything. “No…no. Tommy, don’t.” Tommy squeezed your arms and looked up at you, his eyes conversing everything to you. He was a mess. His face was damp, his nose was red, his lips wouldn’t stop quivering.

“Take me to him, please, Tommy. I need to see him. One last time, please. Please”, you begged him desperately, wanting to say goodbye to your heart one last time. Tommy looked at you in sympathy and nodded his head solemnly. He supported you with his arms and took you to the small morgue that they had kept Joel’s body in.

You entered the room and saw the body bag that was as tall as your husband. You almost stumbled but Tommy’s supportive arms held you up against him. Tommy brought you closer to the stretcher and you stared at it blankly.

“I want to see his face.”

Tommy looked at you in pain and shook his head, “You don’t have to-” “I want to”, you demanded. Tommy clenched his jaw tight- he hadn’t seen his brother’s messed up face yet. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to. But who was he to deny your request to see your husband for the last time?

So he came around the stretcher and slowly unwrapped the bag, Joel’s graying curls coming into view first and then- Tommy gasped and stumbled back. His face was completely caked with blood, his left eye swollen shut, big cuts across his forehead and a gaping wound in his neck. Tommy wanted to throw up. Just yesterday he had seen his brother playing with his son. Tommy kept his eyes on you, anticipating your reaction. Jesse had told him he found you just lying there next to Joel’s body the whole time and Tommy damn near cried after hearing that.

Your breathing picked up and a sob tore through your throat. His gorgeous, handsome face was completely wrecked. That evil fucking girl had done this to your Joel. You panted and ran a shaking hand through his curls and laid your forehead against them. Your cries shook his body and Tommy turned his head to focus on the wall, his chest hurting at the sound of your cries.

You pressed your lips against his forehead. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m so fucking sorry. I couldn’t protect you. You deserved better, baby. I’m sorry. You were so brave and I love you so much. Please, wake up for me, baby. Please-” you choked against your tears and brought him closer to you with an arm across his unmoving chest. Which broke your heart further because you wouldn’t hear his heartbeat against your ear ever again. You wouldn’t feel his chest go up and down when you cuddled him. No matter how much you pleaded, he wasn’t coming back.

“Sweetheart, we gotta go”, Tommy whispered and laid a hand on your back. You pressed a parting kiss against Joel’s cold lips. You turned to face Tommy with a devastating look in your eyes.

“Tommy th-they were so cruel. They were so cruel. They didn’t let me help him. He was in so much pain, Tommy, he was screaming so much. They didn’t let me help him. They made him sit there on the cold floor with his injured knee- he couldn’t even- he-”, you let out a sob and held onto Tommy’s forearms for support, “she wouldn’t stop punching him. He tried to get up for Ellie but she-she stabbed him. He saved her life and she still stabbed him- Tommy- we- we need to find them. I need to fucking kill them-please-”, you were hyperventilating at this point, your entire body shaking with fury and sadness.

Tommy’s face twisted before he brought you into his chest and let you sob against his throat. He held you tightly against him and glanced at his big brother and shushed you gently, "I know, sister. We will. I promise you, we will. I know. I’ve got you", he cradled your head against him and let you cry, supporting your weak body in his protective arms. He felt his insides curl with anger and revenge. He would make sure he hunted down those bastards and he would kill them. For you. For his brother.

For now, he would carry you to the clinic and get your knee checked and him and Maria would look after you and Ellie, just like a family is supposed to. Just like his brother had done for his entire life and sacrificed his life for. Just like how he had promised his brother he would look after you if something happened to him.

And you? You'd go to your room and open the wardrobe, pull his favorite flannel close to your face, breath in the warm and comforting scent of your husband and curl up on his side of the bed. You'd wish you'd saved time in a bottle and open it whenever you wished to just to look at all the memories with Joel, you'd wish you'd taken your last breath lying next to your heart-your husband, you'd wish you could have one last chance to gaze into your Joel's loving brown eyes and hear him say he loves you.

For now, you'd bury your face in his flannel and cry yourself to sleep until you could kill that girl who murdered your husband.

-

AN: this was a labour of love. I miss Joel a whole lot and i feel my chest hurt everytime i think of it. anyways, im sorry for the pain and a fix it fic after this i promise <3

[softtdaisy]

soooo thinking about bodyguard Hotch (as always) and inspired by the latest fic, I wondered what other characters think of how close Hotch and reader are getting when he's still "on the case"?

I'm a sucker for outsider perspectives and I'm sooo curious if the BAU gang suspects anything or maybe even the stalker's perspective on Hotch and reader 👀

keep on teasing me / Aaron Hotchner

summary. 5 times someone teased Hotch about the case, the one he did the teasing

words count. 4 593

what to expect. the team is here but nothing except for that

a/n. thank you so much for your request sweetie!! i didn't see the BAU as The BAU in this series i picture them more some kind of agency or i don't know but they're here and it was sooo fun to have them around so hopefully you love this 🤍

bodyguard masterlist | criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

1. the team meeting

“Agent Rossi, but you can call me David. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You watched as David extended his hand, only to take yours and give it a kiss. “Well, the same goes for you, David,” you replied with a soft laugh.

You noticed Hotch rolling his eyes next to you, and you pinched your lips not to laugh even harder. 

After you received yet another letter in your mailbox, the bureau decided to add new cameras and a security system to your apartment. Meaning, you had to leave for the day. Something you weren’t quite sure you understood, but you still agreed to.

Then again, you didn’t really have a choice when Hotch was literally pushing you outside this morning.

“It’s a great occasion for you to meet everyone,” he justified in the car while driving you to his office for the very first time. 

You didn’t realize you had never seen where he was supposed to be working until today. How funny he knew every single centimeter of your place, and yet you didn’t even know what type of wood his desk was made of. Or if he had pictures on it. Pictures of whom? That was another question. 

But he was right. You got to meet everyone. Seeing the real Derek, Emily, and Spencer you’ve seen on screen during the weekly meeting. Getting to meet the bubbly Penelope that was sending mail written in pink to organize every event you had to go to. You already knew Jennifer, the one who stayed with you when you had to get ready for a special occasion—after Hotch did once and left the room with cheeks redder than your lipstick.

“Maybe one of you can finally answer my question,” you said, your arms crossed on your chest once you were all in the meeting room. All their eyes landed on you, curious to see what could be on your mind. They were hiding many things from you—you didn’t need to know about the wannabe stalkers and those that defended you. 

You put your hands on the desk in a very professional way, bending over. Just enough for Hotch’s eyes to fall on your back and your ass for a second. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by David.

“Why can’t I be here while you put cameras all over my place?”

“Because” Spencer started in a low and calm voice that he could say anything, you would believe him. “It’s safer that you don’t know about all of them in case something happens. We know that people tend to look at things that could put them in danger when they feel threatened. And if your stalker comes into your place…”

“Which he won’t.” Hotch interrupted him.

“Well, yes, but in case he does, you won’t be looking at the cameras because you won’t know where they are, and there is a smaller chance that he will notice them.”

You nodded; his explanation was fair, and your first thought was right: you tend to believe everything this man said. “But if I walk around naked, that means you will all see me?” 

Sure, they laughed. You did too. It was a genuine question, but the situation was rather funny considering your case. Even Hotch let out a laugh, but mostly to hide his embarrassment at the idea. 

Nobody answered your question in the end, and the discussion went to other subjects: the following weeks, the events, the organization… always the same movie playing on repeat in the end.

After the meeting, the girls offered to get you a coffee, and you gladly accepted their offer to change your mind. And discover the office. “And I’ll show you Hotch’s desk!” was a very good argument too. 

Did he hear it? Yes. Will he stop you? No. 

He was ready to accept your teasing about his bland and boring office if it made you happy.

Instead, he stayed in the meeting room to organize the latest proofs and stuff they collected. 

“She has a point,” he heard in his back.

When he turned around, he wasn’t surprised to see David leaning against the door. 

“What if she walks around naked and doesn’t know where the cameras are?” he added with a cheeky smile. Because that wasn’t his main concern. That wasn’t what he really meant. “But now that I think about it, you’re always around, so if she walks around naked…”

“Stop it,” he groaned, turning his back to him again. If he couldn’t see his amused face, he could hear his laugh. And again, the heat grew on his cheeks. It happened already; he almost saw you in your underwear. When you left your room and forgot that your bodyguard was always around.

Or you didn’t forget at all? 

2. the recording studio

“One more take!” 

You happily nodded, putting your headphones back on your ears to get ready to record again. 

This was the first time since your case started and Hotch had been watching over you that you went back to the recording studio. You had been asking multiple times in the past. But until the team couldn’t secure a place, they kept refusing. More than once, Hotch offered that they build their own recording studio at your place. 

“The whole point is that I don't get to work alone, Aaron.” You told him over dinner one night when he put the offer on the table again. “I know what I can do, sure. But I also need some artistic view, and as much as I appreciate you, you’re not an artist.”

And so after meeting the team you were used to working with and talking with your producer a couple of times, Hotch finally agreed to bring you to the studio. On one condition: he was going with you. Something you immediately said yes to because “you’re going to see me in my best element.” 

Derek came with him, mostly to protect you from the fans when you would leave. They were already a lot when you arrived; they can’t imagine the number after the session. And two bodyguards were better than one. 

Meaning, on top of looking after you, Hotch had to look after his own reactions looking at you. Because you were right, you were in your element, and there was something magical in the way you lit up when you sang. You were living for your music. The words you wrote these past weeks were the happiest, which it wasn’t hard to understand why. 

More than once, he got lost in the beauty of the moment. Like there was nobody else in the room except for you and him. Like most of the time you spent together, to be honest. But it was…different. These felt more like a dream than the reality of what you were going through, putting the reason why Hotch was by your side all the time. He wished it would never stop.

When you started another song, this felt like another dream beginning. Another movie to start. The next episode of his favorite show. 

And the truth was, Hotch wasn’t even paying much attention to the words you were singing.

But Derek was.

“They couldn't have me, and they never will. And sometimes I hold you closer just to know you're real.”

“Wait a minute.” Derek whispered. Hotch immediately perceived the amusement and especially the teasing in his voice. “She wrote this song lately?”

Hotch didn’t move, or maybe just a little when he crossed his arms tighter against his chest. But his eyes didn’t leave you. Not for a second. “How am I supposed to know?” he replied in a sharp tone that would indicate he didn't want to talk about it more. 

Yet, he knew Derek Morgan more than anybody on this team. When this man had an idea in his head, there was little to nothing that could be done to change his mind. So he wasn’t surprised to see him make a step closer to the producer to put a hand on his shoulder. Neither was he when he heard him ask what the name of the song was.

“Bodyguard.”

You called that song Bodyguard. As much as he tried to stay focused on you, Hotch noticed from the corner of his eyes Derek turning his head to him and giving him a proud look. “Bodyguard,” he repeated, so low it was almost unhearable.

You sang the whole song, talking about the need to protect each other and being ready to do anything for their safety. And if it was more true on Hotch's side, it was the whole reason he was here in the first place. He could tell that there was some truth for you too. He knew that you had defended him already, for fun, when his teammates showed amusement about the situation and your complicity. For real, when you heard some people from outside questioning him—his ability or even his look.

He never felt unattractive, nor did he think he was the most handsome man in the world. But hearing you say there was no man you would rather have by your side than him built his confidence back. And having you sing it in a song that would probably be on your album was on another level. 

“I think I understand now why you don’t want to get rid of this mission.” Derek finally said when he walked back to Hotch.

Hotch, who rolled his eyes again and sighed, said, “Shut up.”

And Derek laughed again. Except this time, Hotch couldn’t contain his smile when you looked at him after finishing your verse. With a sweet smile, like you were waiting for his approval. Asking if he had understood what you were trying to say.

And his simple nod was the answer you both needed to say he knew. He understood. And he felt the same. 

3. the teasing 

“You know everything will be fine, right?” 

You found it ironic that you were the one reassuring your bodyguard.

You were sitting cross-legged on your sofa, watching as Hotch kept going back and forth between his room and the living room. Clearly more stressed about leaving than you were.

Sure, you did have anxiety about him leaving in the past. And sure, you loved having him around and wished he didn’t have to leave.

But Hotch had to work, and the girls offered to stay for the night. It could have sounded sexist that they were two when usually one man was enough. But JJ was doing the bodyguard job; Penelope was just looking for a good excuse to spend time with you. And a pajama party never hurt anybody.

He gave you a side look after putting his bag down on the floor. “How can you be so sure, exactly?” 

Was he being unfair? Yes, and he knew that. Hotch trusted his team with closed eyes. He never doubted them in any case. And he wasn’t even doubting them now.

But he couldn’t help the feeling that he was the one that could treat you the best. Maybe it was above the case situation. 

“Because the girls will be there, we are just going to talk and eat and drink wine.” You were enumerating each element with your fingers. Before opening your hands to show your outfit. “And I'm wearing my favorite pajamas; nothing can happen to me.”

Hotch rolled his eyes. Because he knew that fucking pajama too damn well. A pastel-colored tank and shorts that were showing too much skin for his own good. You had been wearing it many nights around him already. And his eyes couldn’t help but fall on your naked legs anytime you would sit by his side. And his mind was hoping silently that the fabric would go higher and higher on your thighs. 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he mumbled in his breath before walking back to his room. Your feet were so light on the floor that he didn’t hear you either getting up or following him.

“Aaron Hotchner,” you laughed in his back. But he didn’t turn around, didn’t see you lean against the door or cross your arms on your chest, putting the almost see-through fabric against your skin. “Are you running away because of my pajamas?”

You smiled when you heard him laugh. “Yeah, sure, they are my next enemies after your stalker.” 

“Ouch, stalker mentioned before leaving? Not nice, Aaron.” You put a hand on your heart, pretending to be more hurt than you actually were. The reality was there, and you couldn't fight it, so at least you could laugh about it. When he turned his head slightly, just enough to give you a look, you noticed the amused smile on his face from your whole comedy. 

But you weren’t done with him. Not when he had the audacity to leave you for the night. Not when a low, low voice in your head was reminding you that you were scared Hotch could forget about you as soon as he closed the door—something that could never happen if you could actually read his mind.

So you walked to him, slowly. “Actually,” you started, sitting on his bed right in front of him. Perfectly in his sight, with your hands resting behind you, so his eyes would fall on your neckline. “I don’t think my pajamas are your enemies.”

And it did. His eyes fall on you and the trail of skin from your neck to your chest. “Are we seriously having the conversation?” he sighed. 

“I think,” you pursued, making your eyes go down on him very slowly. “That you actually loved them a lot. Maybe they are the reason why you have a hard time leaving tonight.” 

The clench on his jaw. The way he bit his lips. Or the way he turned his head to try to get rid of the thought that appeared—the one where he threw everything away to lay you on this bed and took these pajamas away from you. 

You knew you hit right.

“Hotch?” you heard from the living room.

The girls were there. The game was over, for now.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Hotch finally replied, pointing to you and the room and basically everything that was driving him crazy. He tried to gain composure back, pretending he was mad about your behavior.

But your only answer was a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure we will,” you continued laughing before joining the girls.

Giving Hotch one last look at your ass in these goddamn shorts that would last with him all night. 

4. The Stalker

It started as a beautiful and calm day.

Nothing planned. No meeting. No event. Nothing.

Just you writing a new song and Hotch working in his room. Sometimes you tend to forget these types of days could even exist, but they did. And you loved them.

You were lying on a rug, your legs on your sofa, listening to a melody you had composed a few days ago to find the perfect chorus when you heard Hotch’s door slam suddenly. “That son of a bitch.”

It was in these moments that you realized how much you trusted Hotch with your life. Because you didn’t even flinch a little as it was a sudden and loud reaction caused by God knows what. You simply waited for his figure to appear.

And he did. Oh, you almost forgot he had his glasses on when he was working on his computer. This explained the little smile on your face when you saw him, with faded blue jeans and a dark grey shirt that looked very nice on him.

“Something’s wrong?” you asked, looking at him from above. And he did look a little disappointed by your lack of reaction. But could you blame him? He was mad enough for two.

But instead of speaking, he handed his tablet to you. 

And you saw the reason for his anger—a very justifiable one now that you could see the cause.

A picture of you two in the street from three nights ago when you had a sudden need for Italian food. You had binge-watched a whole cooking competition on TV, and you were craving pure Italian food from the restaurant down the street. The thing was, they didn’t take online orders. Even when you were a famous singer or a convincing bodyguard.

So you and Hotch went there yourself to order too many dishes that you shared the very same night. 

Turns out, your stalker had been waiting for you. And made sure you knew about that.

“Your boyfriend looks pretty, but not as pretty as me, my love.”

Hotch turned his head suddenly. “Are you laughing?” But it was a dumb question. He could perfectly hear your sweet laugh in his ears, even from how far you were from him in this position.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, putting your hands up in the air while getting up. You had a hard time finding your breath again. “I can’t help it.” 

Hotch waited. And waited. Until you finally calmed down. But he was the one to freak out a little. When you landed your eyes on him. And when you put a hand on his arms, patting your fingers on his biceps. “He thinks you’re pretty.” 

That was the point that made you laugh. That he was pretty. And the worst part was that Hotch knew why. You had a whole discussion the other day on the difference between pretty, beautiful, and gorgeous. “You, Aaron Hotchner, are gorgeous,” you said in a very serious tone. 

You tried to explain that he wasn’t cute or pretty, not with his dark figure and the intensity of his look. He could be considered beautiful when he looked softer, like when he was relaxing. But he mostly looked gorgeous. You even said you wanted to put him in a music video because “that would make it work so much better.” 

So you laughed about the pretty part.

Not the boyfriend part.

“You realize how dangerous it is that he saw us?” he finally added, trying to get away with the idea that being called your boyfriend sounded satisfying for the both of you. 

You simply shrugged at his question. “See the positive side of it; at least he won’t approach me when you’re here. And you’re here all the time.” 

And just like that, you made it sound like it was a normal thing for him to be considered your boyfriend by others.

Hotch could clearly get used to it. Or make it real someday.

5. the jealousy

“I don’t like that.” Hotch said in his breath. It could have been missed, almost inaudible.

If Emily and he weren’t in the same room, in total silence.

She turned around, her hand still full of the chips she was eating. “You want me to grab something else?” she asked, her brows furrowed from the confusion. She asked him what he wanted to eat during the tailing tonight. He had a real nerve to complain now.

But Hotch turned around, even more confused than Emily was. “What?” He looked down at the chips bag in her hands and let out an amused sigh—at least he wasn’t too angry to forget how to laugh. “I’m not talking about the chips, Prentiss.”

“Oh,” she replied, taking another handful. “Then what are you talking about, Hotch?” 

She had to wait again. Because suddenly the idea of saying out loud what had been on his mind all day wasn’t as genius as he thought it was. He was being an idiot, ridiculous, he would even say. That was his job. That was everyone’s job. And he had no right to say it wasn’t a good idea or that he wasn’t happy about “Oh, it’s about Derek taking care of her tonight, right?”

A groan. That was all Hotch could answer at the moment.

And a laugh. That was the only reaction Emily had to the situation.

“Are you jealous?” she finally asked after a moment. And maybe he was quick to reply that he wasn't. Too quick, he didn’t sound sincere at all. “Ok, you’re completely jealous.” 

It was a decision they made all together. Hotch was the very first to agree. After the stalker’s latest letter and the proof he had perceived the chemistry between Hotch and you himself, the team thought it would be safer to ask Derek to bring you to the premiere instead of him.

New face, new man, an easy way to confuse the stalker. And made him believe his threat was working.

Choosing Derek out of anybody was a good strategy. Sure, Spencer was good-looking but not as confident as his colleague. The girls would have been a great support, but they wouldn’t have made him jealous. And David was a great father figure, less of a lover—even if he was still talking about your compliments. 

Hotch had all the proof the team made the right decision when he saw the flash crackle when you walked the red carpet, with Derek following you closely.

The good option, right? Young, good-looking, funny, smiling…

“For what it takes,” Emily started again. And if she hoped he would put his eyes away from the view of you, looking so beautiful with your dark-colored dress and your hair up—in a way he could imagine his fingers brushing your neck—she was wrong. “She’s not with him like she is with you.”

No answer. But a sigh. A very subtle sigh that was a sign of relief. Because Hotch noticed it too, honestly. 

When Derek put his hand on your back, you didn’t take a single step back to cuddle against it—like you did with Hotch.

When Derek told a joke in the car, one they all heard and that made some of the team laugh, you didn’t laugh as hard as you did with Hotch—with your eyes showing your amusement, your head falling back, and a hand hitting his chest.

But mostly, anytime Derek was looking at you—definitely not in the same way Hotch was, but still—you weren't looking at him for as long as you did with him. Because anytime you were looking at Hotch, you were appreciating every single feature in his face like it was the last time.

“Oh boy.” Emily laughed, and this time, Hotch turned his head in disappointment. “You’re so falling for her.”

“Shut up.” Hotch finally replied. He saw the way Emily bit her lips, trying to contain her smile and mostly her laugh from his reaction.

And he was fighting too. Because she was so right. 

+1 

“I refuse!”

Running after Hotch wasn’t too hard in your apartment—it was big but not that big. Yet it felt like this man had a little too much fun making you run in a circle and going room after room without stopping walking. Will he even stop walking one day?

Well, yes, he did. Right in front of you. Meaning you stopped too, but only by hitting his back. “You don’t want me to do my job?” he asked with a soft laugh.

“That’s not what I mean!” You hit his chest—it was an easy target, right in front of you. But Hotch was quick to turn around and grab your wrist before you gave him another punch. Or whatever you were trying to do. 

“Just not with somebody else, hm?” You didn’t reply, but you frowned your brows so hard, in a way he was the master of, that he had his answer. 

Hotch had been called for a mission with a young woman, the ex-wife of a high politician that didn’t want to go alone to some charity event. For your defense, you stopped listening after you heard Aaron Hotchner and the name of another woman in the same sentence. It was a one-night thing; he would be back in the morning. Nothing very unusual from your routine.

Except for the fact it was Hotch with another woman.

And the idea of seeing a picture of him looking like a god—because you knew he would, he always did—with someone else was… “maybe,” you finally answered in a mumble that made him laugh harder.

Hotch could have been angry. If it had been any other client, he would have reminded them that they had absolutely no opinion to give about his job. His job was, indeed, his job. Actually, he already had dropped a case because of a jealous client. So yeah, he could have been angry.

First, if it wasn’t you. At this point, he would be stupid to not accept you as a client. You were…you. A great and wonderful woman that made his day much better, a friend that he wanted to cherish for as long as he could. And, well, whatever you were, that justifies your place in his head and heart. He could only accept your jealousy after being jealous himself seeing you with Derek. 

Second…well, because he wasn’t going to this case after all. He was called for it, and he had done the meeting, the organization. Everything was ready. And until a few hours ago, he was still on it, ready to spend another night with politicians—the thing he probably hated the most in his job. But he quit at the last minute. Spencer would go for him, and he would do a much better job at pretending to be interested in what these idiots would say—mostly to contradict them.

“That’s funny.”

You opened your mouth only to close it. And opened it again. “You think I’m funny?”

“Everyone kept teasing me about this case, saying I’m too involved with you, that my reactions are too much, that I’m too possessive. You teased me about not wanting to leave you.” It was hard to concentrate with his big green eyes stuck in yours and his fingers brushing your wrist like that. “But you are the one who refuses to see me go somewhere with someone else.”

You stayed like that, in silence, for a few seconds. You, frowning and pretending to be hurt. Him, with his proud smile that was only making you angrier. 

But in the end he was right.

It was fun to tease him about his feelings when yours just hit you in a quite violent way. 

So you took a step back, then another, before turning your back. “Blame a girl for being jealous,” you said in your breath before walking to your sofa and lying down. Pretending that stupid and arrogant—and many other adjectives you could find to describe Hotch that weren’t true—had already left.

But he hadn’t.

He looked at you. 

He could have told the truth.

He could have told you he wasn’t going there and he was just playing with you.

But instead he said, “You win.”

You didn’t even turn around. Didn’t even move. Which made him laugh even harder because he knew you were simply pretending not to care. But when Hotch walked closer to you, enough that he could put a hand on the sofa and tilted his head to look at you, he saw the smile on your face. The one you were trying to hide but couldn’t contain at the idea of him being by your side.

“I’m staying with you.”

And you both knew these words had more meaning than they were pretended to.

He was staying. Tonight. Maybe longer. Maybe forever. 

Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee @raysmayhem-72 @kajjaka @pastelpinkflowerlife (if you want to be in it, ask me and I’ll be happy to add you x)

[random2908]

(My starting point is that I think egg jokes in general are disrespectful of people's right to determine their own gender. Like, they can be done in a way that threads that needle, and is respectful and fun, but it's rare. Just leave people alone.)

I have exactly one friend who I trust to make egg jokes to/about me (I'm a cis woman). They are transfem; we have known each other since we were teenagers (i.e. the majority of our lives); and, during their late-egg stage, we had a ton of conversations together about gender where we maybe weren't on the same page, but we were at least clearly in the same book, and didn't feel like any of our other friends got it at all. After some years, they closed that book and opened a different one, but we do still have that understanding of each other, and I trust them to understand where I am and where I am not. Pushing boundaries a little for the sake of a joke, when you understand where those boundaries are and wouldn't truly try to push someone across them--that's ok, that's just teasing.

However. I have far more often had the experience of people calling me nonbinary specifically to delegitimize women who are successful in STEM. This is a real thing that happens. It mostly comes from cis people, not trans people, but I'm really leery of anyone who comes to me saying something similar.

(The example that stands out most is a woman I went to school with quoting her then-boyfriend and now-ex-husband. She told me--completely out of the blue--that he'd said he could never be attracted to me because I was a physicist and therefore nonbinary. This woman is a physics teacher; he was literally just intending to neg her about her own career (that's the kind of toxic their relationship was at the time, he was constantly pulling that kind of shit about all topics relating to her), and he never even meant it to get back to me. But she was using it to say that she was a real woman and I was not--and not even figuratively not a real woman, she was outright claiming I was secretly nonbinary--because she had stayed in the pink-collar lane and successfully bagged a man.)

But also when someone uses the wrong pronouns/address for me it's almost always because they forgot that they're in a context that allows women. For the most recent example, I was in a work meeting a few weeks ago that was partly in-person and partly teleconference, and one guy signed out of the conference call with a polite farewell of, "Gentlemen." In addition to my having been very vocal throughout the meeting--one of the top two or three most active speakers from my delegation--his own delegation had sent a woman among their in-person representatives. But in the moment, without the visual of being physically in the room, he completely forgot about the possibility that there even could be women in a room full of people talking about quantum tech.

So, when I constantly run into people thinking no women could be in my position, it's no surprise that egg jokes about me invariably take that as a starting point and follow it to the logical conclusion that, because I am there, I can't be a woman. If it were about me, and suggesting I'm personally masculine, it would be so much less offensive--in fact, there are ways in which I am androgynous/masculine, so as long as a joke referenced those and not my career it wouldn't be offensive at all*. And if it did reference my career, if it were a joke about how people in technical fields are much more likely to turn out to be trans in either direction, that would be so much better--even if it would annoyingly still be ignoring me as an individual person in order to make claims about my gender counter to my own self-identification--because at least it's queering the narrative. But instead it's always just about recapitulating the patriarchy, but now using new ally-sounding terminology.

saw the post that's like "Surely egg jokes are also made from trans men to cis women. Why is this not a concern then? Maybe, just maybe, the idea of suggesting to a man he might be a woman is considered a grave offense, while suggesting to a woman she might be a man isn't?" which finally put into perspective how just. SO many people pull their ideas of what transmascs/men do STRAIGHT outta their asses. cracking an egg joke to cis women???? these ladies have a whole "nooooooo don't say that about yourself, you're beautiful!!!!!!" meltdown if i call myself masculine, girl i can't make egg jokes about myself (closeted transmasc)!!!! like i legit currently have a friend (girl) who's regularly like "god i yearn so much to engage with other men as a man" and i can't even try to tell her to maybe experiment like. for her own good. not even from a place of "hey, i've been there, maybe you could ponder over this?" place because i'm so afraid of crossing a boundary.

it's like. i once saw a video from a central asian country of a girl who says she wishes to be a boy. she was sent to a psychiatrist who told her "if we put you under surgery to make you a boy right now, would you take it?" and she immediately said "yes!". and the whole comments section is just "don't make this into your wholesome trans story, this is a girl who's tired of misogyny!!!!" because clearly, us third world wymbyn never experience any other thought about gender except "wow i hate being a woman for societal reasons only!"

anyway, if you make an egg joke at a cis woman, these are usually your options:

conservative lady: how dare you insult me like that, you're saying i've failed as a woman in this society????

most liberated woman: you're such a misogynistic pig you think just because i have a brain means i'm a man????

(i'd love to meet a cis woman that would be able to take an egg joke tbh. i don't think anyone needs to put up with egg jokes and tend not to make them either, but it's just a little scary to think most people would flip out so seriously about one singular joke like that.)

A lot of cis women really do react to suggest manliness just like toxic cis men being called girls lmao. This should be obvious to like, anyone? Literally everyone on Earth should know this.

[krystella-shifts]

Everything is clicking for me y'all!!! ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Part 2 lmao

If you need help with: • how to stop reacting to the 3d • stop looking at 3d for validation & be ur own validation • how to manifest shifting/shift using loa • manifest FASTER cuz you won't be wavering anymore • ALL OF IT CAN BE ANSWERED FOR YOU IN THIS POST

First of let's take a example ✨

Manifesting money example ★*'•

let's say you Affirm for money, you script it or whatever you do and you get movement. You see signs or hear about a promotion at your job or idk hearing your parents talk about giving you sum cash lol BUT THEN you check your bank account and it's the same amount or you didn't see anything, you didn't hear anything else from your parents and you get discharged like "oh wtvr. Didn't work. Nothing is happening" blah blah

If you're not a shifter you don't have to read this.

Shifting ⊹ .° ୭̥

as a shifting blog (yes it is 😭) let's take a shifting example & explanation for understanding and applying in shiftings case.

So you were trying to shift to your dr and you felt all the symptoms, lights, emotions and sensations that you are there, you affirmed,you did the method, you felt like you ARE there but you were still nervous to open your eyes, unsure if you shifted but you finally did open your eyes.... And it was your bubble reality (I call this shiz bubble reality deal with it 💀) THEN YOU GOT FRUSTRATED AND PUT LABELS ON THIS ATTEMPT AS A "FAILED ATTEMPT" AND ROLLED OVER AND CALLED IT A DAY.

My honest reaction if you've done anything like that:

First of all- why're you "TRYING"?? you're the one deciding here, you're the creator of your reality. No matter what kind of reality you're experiencing, you 🫵🏻 created it. Yes you did. And all those symptoms, yeah tbh it's fun to feel symptoms but they're just the effects on body and your body is NOT the one shifting so don't focus on it too much, use it as a placebo effect rather. if you get symptoms believe that they mean you're shifting/have shifted. You did all that affirming, visualizing and felt it, you were almost certain you shifted.. but the thing is you need to be FULLY certain instead of almost certain. No matter what you see, you keep having it in your mind/imagination. HERE'S WHY YOU DO NOT LOOK AT THE 3D FOR VALIDATION... CUZ IT IS LOOKING RIGHT BACK AT YOU RIGHT IN THE FACE FOR VALIDATIONNNN. you're the validation here.

4d is above 3d for a reason. Why we call it more real reality is because it is the one creating. Imagination is the creative mode, like a factory where it's all made. Physical world is just a reflection of it so what's more real bruh? A mirror? Absolutely not. So why would you look at it for validation. It's like wanting to put on mascara but you're putting it on the mirror and asking why it's not working. Cuz YOU ARE THE ONE WHO NEEDS TO CHANGEEE. if you are not even changing then don't even be upset that the 3d is still the same pls. Ofc it is cuz your core beliefs are still the same as well!

You don't look outside of you for validation when you're literally creating the outside from the inside (your imagination.)

It's like reading yesterday's news paper and expecting today's news.

A very important thing that clicked for me was when I Affirm/visualise/script wtvr, it's inevitable that I'm gonna get what I want so there's ABSOLUTELY NO REASON ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH TO CHECK THE 3D BRUH. it clicked for me that 3d is so ducking powerless 😮‍💨 unless ‼️ YOU give it power. It's ONLY a reflection of who you are, what you're being/your state. Idgaf, the law doesn't gaf. whatever you assume IS true.

So why are you letting 3d decide if you have it or not? If you shifted or not? If you stick to the fact that you do have it, NOT for the 3d to confirm, cuz that's inevitable, but for YOU. do it for you bro, do it for you. And OBVIOUSLY it's gonna be reflected in the physical IF YOU ARE STICKING TO THE NEW STORY. Don't go back and forth with "oh I have it" "no i don't FML" "i am in my dr" "when will I shift from this reality? It sucks" YOU CAN'T SERVE TWO MASTERSSSS

So stop looking at the 3d for validation cuz you're the one who created and is creating it. Even if you open your eyes here- no you didn't. No you DID NOT. You're literally in your DR, wtf are you talking about? You're literally slaying. I am in my dr cuz I said so. Idgaf what 3d says.

TMI: my wallpaper literally says "Go within, everything you need is there" No matter what it is, it's gonna happen if you have it in the 4d.

[jealousmartini]

twin you haven't posted in twelve hours are you good

Hey girl! So I shifted.

Accidentally. But fully this time. Well, Fully-ish because I pussied out of fear. No, fully, actually. Wait wait let me explain.

So get this. I woke up.

But not with my eyes. Just mind, body, and soul slowly becoming aware of her surroundings through the heaviness of sleep if you get what i mean. And it was just too warm and familiar and soft. The bed I mean. Way too comfortable for me to want to open my eyes yet, so they stayed shut, blissfully unaware of the fact this bed is not mine. My senses were slowly yet surely locking in. But my brain was not even fully awake. So I was feeling and being without fully realising what was happening

And then I heard the faint click of what i figured was the front door unlocking. Then opening. Then shutting. Then, locking with a key. I assumed that must've been my brother because he usually escapes into the dead of night to go whatever 23 year old guys do at night. And I heard some thick chunky ass boots stumble to the floor and i wondered when he ever wore boots never mind this dense, his heavy padded footsteps gradually got closer slightly muted by the door being closed.. which was then opened (?). It was a small thing, but it didn't make sense why my brother would need to be in my room at all, nvm at this time of night. But anyway, some shuffling was done. I cocked my brow in suspension, eyes still shut btw, cus what did he just go through my stuff for. And as quickly as he was in, he was out of the room. I made a mental note to confront him in the morning about it.

And then I heard the shower start. From the wrong side of my house... Now I know the anatomy of my house pretty well, so I was confused why I could hear the shower from the west instead of the northeast of my room.

After the shower stopped, i heard the bathroom door open, close, and the same as mine. He took like 3 steps in, and this was when i heard him call my name. He whispered it like a question, i dont think he was sure if i was asleep or not. But it was weird because that's not my name. Well it is, but it's not my name from here. And it's definitely not a name my brother from here knew. And then I realised I knew that voice too, but it was different from what i was expecting. Pretty deeper and rougher than what im used to remembering, and it was definitely NOT my brother's.

And so now I'm frustrated. And kinda nervous. Im laid on my side, the same one as i was on when i first began to wake, but now im slightly tense with frowed brows and all. I'm dealing with so many questions at once like why is the house formatted weirdly? and who the fuck is in my room?? and why the fuck did the bed just dip from behind me???

I literally had a question mark in my head when the voice spoke again. But this time, he was closer. Much closer. I FELT his arm, his muscular arm at that, wrap around my waist and pull my back flush against his BARE NAKED CHEST, and I gasped. I fucking gasped. I swear my heart was about to beat out of my chest. My body jolted forward almost involuntarily at the sudden contact of skin, the feeling on his freshly shower-hot muscular bare chest was making me SWEAT and I heard him mumbled against the back of my neck "Shh don't wake up," and I was thinking "Oh i definitely know who this is" And girl I wasn't fucking planning on it anyway. But I ended up shifting back with my eyes squeezed SHUT like the pussy I am

Because I didn't even expect myself to shift that night. The night after my first day back at college from the Easter break. And now I'm supposed to come in like I wasn't just in another man's bed.

Now i dont have the guts to actually say who this was. Im practically shaking right now for fucks sake. But im sure everyone and their mother on this app who sees my blogs can make an educated guess and get it right first time. And after 8 years of knowing about mha and 6 years of trying to shift there, ladies and gentlemen I think I can officially say I have shifted to mha. It definitely wasn't my main mha dr, some would probably argue it was even better lmfao. I guess the secret to shifting really is just letting go.

[lovemyromance]

Show me in the text where Azriel wants Gwyn. Actively. Not YOUR interpretation of what "spark" means or signifies - but an actual textual line where Azriel shows clear romantic interest in Gwyn.

It doesn't exist.

Everything about that ship is based on stringing together out of context scenes to create fanon theories. If Gwynriel were going to happen - SJM had plenty of chances to do it when ACOSF was literally focused on Azriel and Cassian training Nesta and the priestesses.

Every single day was spent with Gwyn and he doesn't even think of her as a friend. Every single day was spent with this alleged mate, he has rescued her from a terrible fate, and STILL - he does not pursue her romantically. Doesn't bend any rules to get her out of the blood rite.

Everything in ACOSF shows Azriel is pining over Elain. It is obvious. There IS not other interpretation of why he wants to fucking go down on her, listen to her talk about the garden, why he follows the sound of her laugh.

Be so fucking real. Saying something is canon because you interpreted a line a certain way is NOT ACTUALLY CANON. It is your interpretation, therefore it is fanon.

Here are a list of things that are canon:

Cassian was interested in Nesta before he thought they were mates.

Elain and Lucien are mates.

Azriel follows the sound of Elain's laugh.

Azriel gave Elain truth teller when he has never let anyone touch it in 500 years.

Azriel yearns for Elain. He wants her BAD.

Azriel was willing to die if it meant he would be able to get Elain back from Hybern.

The only reason Azriel didn't completely ravish her in the hallway is because Rhys interfered. He had no intention of stepping away otherwise.

Please don't kid yourselves people. Don't make yourself look like such clowns because you want your ship to be canon when it's literally NOT. Just ship them happily, and if it's not canon it's not canon!! Nobody is stopping you from shipping them but the argument comes when you insist your ship is printed in the text at the same level as Elriel (clear mutual romantic interest) or even Elucien (canonically mates).

Like goddamn it's just embarrassing atp.

[etherealily]

ɪᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛʏ // ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

As you can probably tell from stalking my main, I started off as a marauders account and I think it's time to go back to my roots.

Other fics of mine. If you have the time.

James Potter + fem!reader. Cuss words. Not proofread.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

He holds me in his big arms, drunk and I am seeing stars, this is what I think of.

Desc. : A lot can happen in a single night.

────────────────────♫ ·‼️· ♫──────────────────

James is pretty sure he's had enough of Valentine's Day talk for one lifetime. Being unable to go to what was essentially his spot in front of the alcove by the Lake because some other couple was sticking their tongues down each others' throats was diabolically infuriating, and he had to actually hold back a gag as he rolled his eyes and sped back into the castle.

It wasn't even the same month as Valentine's Day, but evidently, everyone was in the mood.

See, since couples were going to be separated for Christmas and New Years the next morning (a whole week, oh, the horror!), the Seventh Years decided to throw a party to commemorate their 'love'. James gave each and every one of them another three weeks, tops.

Tops, because he was pretty sure a girl in his year had chosen between two blokes on the literal flip of a coin.

With his mate Remus being a prefect on duty, Peter being home, and Sirius finally being able to visit his estranged cousin Andromeda since he'd just been newly disowned, and James' parents not being at home for him to go back home to, he was missing both Christmas and one of the best fucking parties thrown by his senior batch.

Just as well, he'd probably gag and throw up whatever Firewhiskey he'd down at the rager anyway.

Roaming through the Hogwarts grounds when it'd just gone midnight was risky, even for him, but he couldn't go to a party while his mate was stuck mentoring some newly-appointed Fifth Year Prefect. It's bad form. So, waiting for Remus to finish up his duties while roaming the corridors, it was.

And then he saw you. The bloody bane of his existence, with your glinting Ravenclaw Prefect badge, and your stupid hair all moonlit, as if you were taunting him. 'Oh, I'm so perfect, with my Slug Club, and my grades and my ability to get every guy so madly fucking in love with me'. Ugh, he could almost hear you. It had probably immensely enthralled you to reject Peter back in third year. God, what a bint.

The thing about James was that, sure, on paper, he was top-choice for Slughorn. Well-connected, son of Fleamont bloody Potter, good at Potions, rich. He should've been a shoo-in to the stupid Club, and he nearly was. But that was on paper. With the unfortunate fact that James' hatred for Severus was a school-wide knowledge, and the Slug Club was the only, only aspect of life where Severus was more influential than him, it would be devastating to Slughorn to have them both in the Club. Slughorn was basically cutting his losses.

So, yeah, he was seeing fucking red. Vivid, vibrant, in-your-face, horned-guy-with-a-pitchfork-red. It made no goddamn sense for you to be doing anything but what you were doing- prefect duties - but James' disdain for you made that somehow be infuriating.

Fuck, was he ready to shoot you.

He really had to get a fucking grip. Perhaps on your throat. Throttle you to death. Ugh. What would that even achieve? Nothing but a murder charge, or if he got away with it, memorials dedicated to you, a constant reminder of your smug little presence, perhaps your ghost floating through Hogwarts, badmouthing him. He didn't need that.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

The first thing he'd ever actually said to you.

"Draught of Wrath.", you replied, sparing him nothing but a momentary glance over your shoulder, before your gaze flew back to the two doves who were currently engrossed in a mini-war, all squawks and feathers. "Go back to bed, Potter, or I'll reduce points."

"That's not in our fucking textbook.", he spat, ignoring your order.

"Special project."

"You just do your own side-quests in Prefect time? And Slughorn lets you?"

"Well, he gave this recipe to me as a challenge, so I'm sure he isn't opposed. And you're the only idiot up tonight, so go back to bed."

"Fucking recipe.", he grumbled, snatching it up from the ledge you'd propped it on and straightening it out to squint at it in the moonlight. "You have no antidote?"

"I've halved the quantities so that the effects wear out far earlier."

"How do you keep them from attacking the rest of us?"

"Muffliato potion. Plus, initially, Obscuro charm before I cast a cloaking charm over this pillar. That's why the doves can't see us."

"You realise this is cruelty, right? Animal cruelty?"

"They're not real doves, I conjured them up, too."

"Yes, but they're really there."

"But they're not actual doves, though."

"You really want to go into Wizarding Ethics? Because—"

"You know what, perhaps you should go work on the general assignment. I'll allow you in the library if you just leave me alone."

He nearly actually throttled you. The audacity!

"Fuck off, alright, with your condescension.", he hissed. "Absolute cunt."

If you were offended, you didn't look it. "Do you always curse?"

"Do I always — yeah, why? Don't fucking tell me you're going to go all holier-than-thou."

"No, I'm just asking."

"Why?"

You shrugged. "If I brew you the antidote, you would be more chill."

"What is this? Is it the, what? Is it the fact that you're a girl that's got you so smug, and so sure that I won't hex you into fucking oblivion? Or is it 'cause you're part of the elite Slug Club or whatever?"

You furrowed your brows at that, gently uncorking the antidote and allowing the fumes to permeate through the little bubble you'd created with the doves. "What? Hey, I'm just saying, you seem to be holding in a lot of pent-up anger, so, I thought I'd help."

"Oh, yeah, you're a fucking angel, aren't you?!", he yelled, and it echoed throughout the desolate corridor some fifteen times, and you glared. "You just bought yourself a month of detention."

He mimicked you in a high pitch voice, rolling his eyes.

"How juvenile."

"How bitchy.", he retorted.

There was a silence as he watched you examine the remnants of your bottles of potion before gently placing them into the loops inside your tiny satchel.

His brows furrowed. "Did you just say there's a Muffliato potion?"

"Yeah, of course. Almost all spells can be replicated as potions."

"Could I get some of that?"

"Why? So the stupid V-Day party can use it and everyone can scream as loud as they want without wakin' any teachers?"

He chose not to answer that. You'd just mock him for missing the biggest party of the bloody year.

"Yeah, charms aren't strong enough. C'mon, it'll help you when you finish your shift and come join us anyway. Me and Moony."

"Remus? He hates the Seventh Years, same as me. Him at their party? It'll be as funny to see as dropping a ballpoint pen in the middle of here and having everyone gawk at it, wondering what the hell it is."

"You have an odd sense of humour."

Unfortunately for him, you were the only Prefect (besides Remus) who knew he was out of bed past lights-out. Which was, uh... sad. To say the least, because he had to now stick by you so that he didn't run into any others. He'd have figured, with pushing you to the party, he could tag along and that would be a valid excuse to give to Remus as well, but you didn't want to go. Ugh.

"Come on, you look miserable, and you look like you'd fit right in with the V-Day party's, like... ambience, or whatever. It's awful. Isn't there another Ravenclaw prefect to handle your work?"

"He's wildly incompetent."

"Wow. Harsh."

"It's true, though."

"Listen, the other prefects would've found any late-night stragglers by now, wouldn't they have? It's not a rule that they can only punish people of their own house, yeah? Probably Moony's found the lot of them. So come to the party. Your misery's actually giving me a migraine."

"Shut up. Shoo. Try not to get caught by someone else.", you shot back, now setting up what Professor Sinistra had taught all of you a couple days ago was a moonlight-collector.

He had forgotten that there even was an assignment.

"How did you get the lens thing? She said it was only available at Hogsmeade!"

"That's not true. The textbook says convex lens, so I borrowed a monocle."

He was about to throw you into the Lake, trust. What a fuckin' swot! The assignment wasn't due for another three weeks! Ugh.

"From where?", he asked, offhandedly, with zero interest in the answer.

You shook your head. "Can't tell you that." Fine by him.

Fuck.", you mumbled, trying to change up the setup for the angle that would result in the perfect proportion of moonbeams to liquefy but no, apparently it would just not work. Packing up, you angrily stuffed everything into your satchel again. Apparently you'd just have to sneak into the Astronomy Tower.

"The party's this way.", he mumbled, scratching at the back of his head to snap himself out of the conversation so that he could go back to watching the moon and waiting for Remus.

"'M not going."

"Why not?"

"I have shite to do!"

"Where are you doing your 'shite you have to do', then?"

"Astronomy Tower, where else?"

Fuck, he was going to regret this. "Can I come with?"

Your eyes were ripped from the night sky in front of you back to him, glistening with amusement. "What? Why?"

He licked his lips. "You're the only prefect that knows I'm out and you don't care enough to give me detention, so I figure I should stick around with you."

Your mouth agape with a barely-suppressed snicker, you began following him after he angrily shouldered past you. Fuck it all to hell.

The winding staircases led the two of you - and your Lumos-emitting wand - up the Astronomy Tower, where some losers were sat, bloody snogging. It's not bloody VALENTINE'S DAY! He wanted to scream.

"Ugh. Never mind.", he grumbled, turning immediately around before the image was etched into his brain, but you put a hand on his chest.

"What are you doing?!", he hissed, watching you gesture at him to stay hidden as you climbed the last couple steps, clearing your throat. The couple scrambled to get up. "Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, yeah? Minus points. Get back in bed, now!"

Oh, yeah, prefect-privileges!

He stayed glued to the wall as the couple raced down the stairs past him, muttering about 'fuckfuckfuck, she saw our faces!'. Ooh, a clandestine affair, it seemed. How he wished he could find out more!

But no. You'd barked at a couple people just so he could get some immunity tonight, even though it was common knowledge he thought you were gum under his shoe, so he should at least respect that.

He's always thought you were annoying, with your attitude that you were better than everyone just 'cause you were a teacher's pet, but honestly, he'd also always thought that was an incredibly brave thing to do, especially seeing as you could get endlessly bullied for it.

Bravery, as a Gryffindor, was something James admired.

Lord knows without your stubbornness, Sirius may have got into much more trouble than just detention. He'd heard of this Muggle thing called a "spliff" from one of the Slytherins once, and had gone absolutely feral, to try it out. Thankfully, you knew enough about Muggle things to put a stop to that.

"You're being oddly nice.", he remarked, maintaining a safe distance in case your plan was to bring him up here, slit his throat, and then throw him off the tower in the name of defamation.

"I just took a couple points off your house."

"So... we're even?", he inquired, with narrowed eyes. No. There had to be a catch.

"Not even close. I told Slughorn not to give you detention.", you informed, offhandedly, as you kneeled down and unfastened the clasp on your satchel, bringing out your moonlight-liquefying equipment.

Oh. Yeah. This morning, he'd taunted Severus and you - Slug Club members, ew - for having finished brewing first. Taunting wouldn't have resulted in much, but he had tripped Snivellus over and caused him to crash into about three other peoples' cauldrons.

Your fault, he'd argue. Usually, it was you and James brewing together, and if you'd been there with him, you wouldn't have finished early and been chatting to Snivellus about fuck-all, basically bragging and rubbing it in James' face.

No, you and James would have tolerated each other for at least one Potions hour, as you always did.

So, it was your fault that James was pissed that you weren't seated next to him and— alright, maybe his argument wasn't the most sound.

"Yeah, I know. He didn't follow up."

He, in fact, didn't know that's why he hadn't followed up. He'd chalked it up to his charm and Slughorn's distate for punishing Purebloods.

"Yeah. I figured you were just curious how Snape and I finished that fast. And I didn't mean to provoke you, or anything."

Ugh. Fuck it all to absolute purgatory. You'd made him sound like a sore loser. Like he gave a toss about yours and Severus' Potions prowess. "Hey."

"What?"

"Sorry. For the 'cunt' thing."

"What cunt thing?"

"When I called you one?"

"Oh. Yeah, no, it's alright."

"I wish I could go to the party.", he groaned, pouting exaggeratedly in hopes of at least getting a chortle out of you. Maybe another 'get back to bed'. But you just nodded.

"Yeah. Looks fun."

He tilted his head. "You and I are going to the party, then."

This was now more self-indulgent than anything. He had to see you drunk. Seriously. It's quite literally on his list of things to see before he graduates. Number four, right before McGonagall high on catnip and right after Snape being tossed into the Great Lake.

"No. You go, I won't tell."

Almost instantaneously, his eyes narrowed. "You won't?"

"No?"

Too fishy for him. "Why not?"

"Figure you should enjoy the party, since you're out already, and you wanted to go home these holidays anyway."

"How do you know that?"

"You were only moping about it in every class the entirety of last week. 'My parents won't be home, so I have to stay at Hogwarts this Christmas, ugh!' Set my bloody teeth on edge."

He really couldn't argue with that.

"Don't you want to come?"

"No, not particularly.", you replied, biting your cheek as your textbook hit the floor with a thud, and you brought your lit-wand over it.

"Well, I need immunity!"

"Too bad, Potter."

There. He was seeing red once again.

He let you underline a line in the textbook, before he began on his bullshit again. "Are there times that there are absolutely no out-of-bed-delinquents, and you lot have the entire castle empty to yourselves?"

You shrugged, biting your lip as you tried your hardest to get the telescope to budge with a squeak. "Yeah, usually it's around the holidays, like right now. I stay back at Hogwarts, usually, so it's often pretty calm at night."

"Mm. I see. Y'know what I'd do, if I were a Prefect with an empty school?", he teased, purposely dragging out his words and pairing them with a cheeky simper.

"Pull pranks even though no one's here, because you and your stupid 'Marauder' gang is absolutely unemployed in every sense of the word?"

"Sod off. That's Snivellus talking. No, I'd just run around, screaming, singing at the top of my lungs."

You snorted, one eye squinting as you looked through the telescope, positioning it just so, using it as your convex lens (kind of genius, actually. He'd have liked to have thought of that). "Yeah, go ahead. I feel like you're forgettin' that it's desolate of students, not teachers."

He grumbled. Right. His fantasies deflated almost instantaneou— hang on! "Didn't you say there was a Muffliato potion?"

Nodding, you continued uncorking your flask to collect the moonbeams, placing it perfectly in front of the telescope. "Yeah, so wh— no. Don't even fucking think abo—"

"I want to run around the castle, have my own party. What's wrong with that?!"

"Muffliato potion overdose? Running around, getting injured? You getting in trouble? Me getting in trouble for providing you with th—"

He scoffed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own tiny flask. "I've got Firewhiskey."

"Are you intent on giving me reasons to give you more detention?! I thought you wanted immunity!"

James didn't reply, and you pointed at him in a very authority-figure-like-manner. "Get that shite out of my face, and go back to bed."

"C'mon, just mix a tiny bit, and we'll call it even, alright?"

"Even?!", you hissed. "You owe me more, if we're keeping score."

"Well, we're not! I'm just saying, I'll leave you alone! Won't tell anyone you're doing basically everything but Prefect-ing!", he retorted, gesturing wildly at your equipment.

"Are you blackmailing me?!"

His mind fought off the 'Sirius-Black-mailing' joke, while he shrugged, impassively. "Maybe."

"You're a right... prick!"

"Been called worse."

"But never better, right?"

He rolled his eyes, making grab-hands for the tiny bottle of Muffliato potion, that you held out of his reach. "What?"

"I'm not givin' you my whole stash!", you scoffed, snatching his flask from him and gently pouring about a quarter of the potion in, with total concentration. He watched you, the background filled with no sound but the occasional rustle of breeze and the tinkly sounds of liquid transferring.

"There."

"That's it?"

"What'd you expect? A fireworks show?"

"No, I just... never mind. You don't want any? So when you yell at me, I won't be able to hear it?" He proffered the flask.

"If we drink from the same batch, we'll still be able to hear each other. Other people just can't hear us.", you informed, as though he were an absolute dimwit, shoving the potion bottle back in. Was it too late to throw you off the railing? "Now go and yell and do whatever. I need to concentrate. Besides. I'm not gettin' drunk on the job."

"It's already a very dilute amount of whisky. The potion'll just dilute it further. C'mon, take a bit. It'd help you not be caught by Filch or someone here, anyway."

"Why would I be caught? I don't have the indiscretion of a 'Marauder'.", you mocked.

"Say our name like that one more time—"

"And what?"

He scoffed. "Fine, don't come with me. You probably have shite music taste anyway."

"Oh, please. You probably only know Wizard music. Like the Odd Brothers."

"What, like Muggle music is better?!"

"Yes, it is!"

He threw his hands up. "Show me, then."

"What, now?"

"Yeah, now! Show me! You know there was that recent petition by the Muggle-borns to have a record player in the music room so they didn't get homesick, yeah? So go ahead, show me!"

"Fine!", you spat, yanking the flask from his hand and downing half of it in one go. "You'll never bloody insult Queen in front of me."

"I didn't say anything about the Queen! Hey! Hey, don't go making me out to be unpatriotic! Sure, I may be anti-monarchy, bu—"

"Oh, do shut up!"

He clenched his jaw but didn't say anything. Didn't want to push it, you see?

He gulped down the other half of it.

────────────────────♫ ·‼️· ♫──────────────────

"Now, then. Play this insanely amazing Muggle music of yours.", he muttered, arms crossed tightly across his chest as he leaned against the closed door of the music room.

Some people were silly drunks. Some were affectionate.

Evidently the two of you were aggressive-music-fanatic-drunks.

"Wait, 'm looking.", you murmured, your fingers dancing across the tops of the tiny collection of vinyls seated safely in a shelf on the wall. "Ah-ha!"

James rolled his eyes. "Do you have to be such a caricature? A bloody nerd, who says 'ah-ha!'?", he asked, plopping himself down on a piano bench.

"As opposed to the rich pretty boy who's miffed that he can't get into an elite club based on talent and intellectualism because he's used to being given things on a silver platter?"

He couldn't even scoff, you were so on the mark. "Shut up."

"Lovely expansion of vocabulary."

"Alright, you know wh—"

"I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things, we can do the tango, just for two..."

The record spun around almost dizzyingly. God, Muggle stuff would never fail to fascinate him.

"I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings, be a Valentino, just for you..."

"Now's the best bit, now's the best bit, shut up!", you screeched softly, and he nodded, eyes fixed on the floor as he concentrated his ears on the record.

"Ooh, love, ooh, lover boy, whatcha doin' tonight?"

He hated the fact that you were bobbing your head, because in his firsthand, personal experience, that meant you had heaps more dancing you wanted to do. And so, against his better judgement, he stood up.

"Set my alarm, turn on my charm, that's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy.", you sang, and he giggled.

Yes. James Potter fucking giggled over a girl he fucking complains about every bloody night.

Kill him now.

"Ooh, she's got moves.", he remarked with a toothy grin, watching you twirl and sway and basically make this whole night so much better in the most magically Muggle way possible.

And then abruptly...

The whisky began hitting both of you.

How did he know that?

Because he seized your wrist and began to twirl you. And then you let him.

Yeah, he was genuinely going to have the absolute fucking mick taken out of him if this got out. Oh, my god, Sirius! Ugh, if he found out... no, even Sirius was alright. Remus would haunt him about this in the afterlife, he just knew it.

"You've got very Muggle moves, mate."

"Yeah? That's a thing, then, is it? Wizard moves vs Muggle moves?", he asked, laughing deeply as your back thudded against his chest after his fourth try at turning you smoothly. "This isn't working."

"Yeah, because you're a sore loser! Please, as if the Odd Brothers could hold a candle to Queen!"

"Ooh, let me feel your heartbeat grow faster, faster."

The music room rang with the sounds of your laughs, breaths intertwined, feet shuffling, squeals and scratches of the vinyl, and of course, his jumbled-up attempts at singing along to a song he had never heard before. Why? Because he's James Potter.

"Ooh!", cooed James, attempting (and failing horrendously) at mimicking the effortless 'oohs' of the song, making you giggle, now.

"That's pathetic, if you don't know the song, don't sing!"

He feigned offence, gaping with a hand on his chest, while the other underarm-twirled you a couple more times. "And what's he talkin' about, 'long, hot, summer nights'? It's winter!"

"Well, yeah, but the song was recorded ages ago."

"It's not even time-accurate."

"Wizard songs change according to the situation you're in, yeah, for sure, but not Muggle songs."

"Wait...", he began, tilting his head as he rested his arms on the small of your back. "They just stay the same?"

"Well, yeah. Our pictures don't move, either."

"What?!", he spluttered.

"Yeah."

"Why's that?!"

"Our pictures, our songs... we want to capture that perfect moment forever. In a picture. In a song, or a poem, or even a painting. But it has to be that moment."

"So, 'long, hot, summer night' was when... this... good old-fashioned lover boy met you? I mean, y'know, the listeners of the song."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"And... is there really a 'good old-fashioned school for loverboys?'", he whispered, conspiratorially, because if there was, he'd assume it'd be top-secret.

You mumbled back, "I can't say."

Pulling back to glare at your face, he raised a brow, and then, the both of you burst into fits of laughter. "God, I need more Firewhiskey."

"Do you have more?"

"No."

"Well, y'know where we could get some, though?", you asked, and something in his gut told him that was rhetorical.

────────────────────♫ ·‼️· ♫──────────────────

This was barmy. Psychotic. Absolutely demented, deranged, insane, nutty and any other synonyms that eluded his mind!

How had waiting around for Remus to finish prefect-duties so that they could maybe get into the biggest party of the year turn into him helping his Potions-partner sneak into Professor Slughorn's private quarters to nick some sherry? He could replay the night over and over, and he'd still probably never understand.

"Did you hear that?", he hissed.

"Shut up, let me concentrate!"

Precariously lifting the smallest but heaviest bottle from off the tray and trying not to make so much as a clink, you grimaced as you made each excruciatingly slow move, and that nearly sent him doubling over with laughter.

And he really should've watched his step, because down fell a cane, onto the ground with a thwack.

"Fuck!", you yelled, your eyes wide as you looked at him— he had to steady you, lest the glass fall and shatter.

You seemed to have forgotten that you were on Muffliato-potion, and your yells wouldn't be heard.

Even though you were the best at Potions, you panicked.

And then, it hit him.

You weren't a caricature, you really had never done this before, the sneaking about, the mischief.

"C'mere.", he hissed, and you complied, because what the fuck else could you do? At least he could attempt to charm his way out, like he always did, and lower the sentence to detention, rather than expulsion. God. This is what you'd come to. Relying on James Potter's bullshit skills to save your academic future.

Surprisingly, his hand crammed into his pocket, and you half expected him to pull out one of those dungbombs he and his stupid gang of 'Marauders' liked to throw around, but instead, he pulled out a tiny bundle of cloth.

Well, seemingly tiny. Until he removed the bow and unravelled it. And unravelled it. And unravelled, and unravelled, and unravelled. And then, there, brimming over his hands was a shimmery velvet cloak.

"What, are you going to throw this at his face and make a break for it?!"

"Get under it!", he instructed, dragging you to another side of the room and under the cloak just as the lights came on.

An INVISIBILITY CLOAK?! This absolute— oh, everything made sense now! Oh!

"Come out! Come out, I say!"

Slughorn's half-asleep voice was nearly as annoying as his normal voice. James had learnt to control his breathing under the cloak, but he knew that you hadn't, obviously, so his palm was clamped over your mouth. And though he remembered the Muffliato-potion, it was clear you still didn't, by the way you were biting your tongue as if your breaths would give him away. Fine by him. He didn't need you talking.

And, in all honesty, he was terrified your guilt would overtake you and you'd run out from under the cloak, fall at Slughorn's feet and confess, begging to stay in the Slug Club.

"Come out now or face the consequences!"

James jerked his head towards the door, beginning to take slow sidesteps that you fell in tune with. Before you knew it, you were out the door, which slammed and caused Slughorn to mutter : "Oh, bloody drafts!"

And then, you ran.

Where, why, how, you don't know, all that you two knew was that it was fast. Sprinting through the chilly winter night, past paintings that were ready to curse your whole bloodline for the disturbance of air, but couldn't see you or hear you, past Filch's cat who could also feel you two but not see you or hear your footsteps? Heaven on earth.

Somehow, you two managed to have the drunken stamina to make it back to the Astronomy Tower, chuckling and gasping and holding up the bottle of sherry in the glinting moonlight like a championship trophy.

"We are fucking crazy!"

"Absolute loons!", he agreed, nodding as he took the bottle from you, taking desperate swigs. "Salud, Prefect!"

"Cheers, Marauder!"

He collapsed onto the floor of the Astronomy Tower, hands over his stomach as he gazed up at the moon, seeming right at his nose thanks to the Firewhiskey and the sherry.

Unconsciously, he began humming that stupidly phenomenal Muggle song you'd introduced him to.

"I told you. Muggle songs are just... better.", you called, from somewhere across the floor.

"Shut up.", he grumbled, grunting as he shuffled up onto his elbows to get a better look at you, leaning your elbows behind you on the railing, wind in your hair, the sparkling night sky as your backdrop.

It felt wrong to not examine this magnificence up close.

He scrambled up, continuing to hum.

"'S growin' on you, I can tell.", you grinned, with a playfully snail-paced punch to his cheek as you turned around to watch the stars.

He groaned, catching your hand mid-air and turning it over in his palm. "Are you never lettin' me live this down?", he questioned, wrapping his arm across the expanse of your collarbone and gently wrenching you closer to him, chin now settling nicely on your shoulder.

"Nope. I think the whole school should know how utterly enthralled you are by Freddie Mercury— hey, that's your mate!"

"What?"

"Sirius!"

Stupidly, James actually looked around for him.

Reaching up, you tugged a little on the arm around your neck, scratching at his elbow and pointing at the vast expanse of inky black nothingness and everythingness that never failed to awe him. "That's Sirius!"

"Oh, the star? How do you know?"

"I study."

"Why do you say that like I don't?"

"Because I've seen you in class. You're never focusing, either. Always zoned out. Maybe if Sirius was there, you'd at least do something.", you answered, gesturing at the star to illustrate your point.

"Well, with a know-it-all, swotty, infuriating little loser like you as a Potions partner, I really can't do much, can I?"

"Yeah, I thought of that, too, so I figured I'd partner up with Severus, who doesn't need help. That somehow made it worse, this morning. You got detention."

Because you were talking to him, you oblivious, gorgeous girl.

"He's a git. Bad news."

"Who do you like besides your 'Marauder' mates?"

James paused. Good question. "Marlene."

"She's your cousin. You sort of have to."

"I tolerate Regulus?" He didn't like this conversation. He was a social butterfly who was quite often asked how many girls wanted him, or how many people wanted him at their parties, but never how many people out of his devoted fanclub he actually liked.

He could practically see his metaphorical circle actually shrink in his mind's eye and he didn't like it.

You pointed at the Sirius star again. "That is your favourite person in the world, and Regulus is his brother, so yeah, I'd wager you'd tolerate him. But I mean 'like'."

Okay, he needed to shut you up, but he was all out of sherry.

"And what about you? We both know the only reason you're not at that party is 'cause you've no friends right now, they're all at home on holiday. And you're alone. You'd know absolutely no one."

You scoffed. "Did I remind you to fuck off today?"

"No, maybe you should do it, I was sort of starting to miss it."

"Fuck off."

"Ooh, sexy, say it again."

You gagged. "Bleh. Get off me." He laughed as he pulled you closer against his chest, muscles basically covering your mouth now, humming again. "I can't bloody get it out of my head."

"Does that to ya, yeah.", you replied, muffled.

"Which one's Sirius again?"

"That one. The brightest one."

"That's ironic."

"Oh, you beat me to it, I was about to say that."

He laughed, swaying you slightly against the railings. "So. Noticed you've not mentioned my Cloak.", he began, cocking his head so he could get a view of your face.

"What's to mention? It just explains how you lot rarely get caught."

"And? You're not going to try confiscating it?"

"You know I could, right?"

"Yeah."

"You know why I'm not, right?"

"Please say 'cause you're in love with me."

He already knew it was the other reason.

You smirked at him, and he'd swear he's never seen anything more lovely and more sinister in his entire life. "You're evil."

"Whenever I want. Noon or midnight. Rain, hail or shine, legal or illegal reasons. Access. I don't care if you're writing bloody mock-NEWTS. I call, you come with the Cloak."

"Well, I have a counter-condition."

"You're blackmailing my blackmail? With what?"

"Well, we've got your classic theft.", he said, thumbing back at the empty bottle of sherry lying by the satchel you'd abandoned a couple hours ago. "And that can be proven by Veritaserum, and it will be used, because this is theft from a Professor." He counted on another finger before continuing. "And then, y'know, not Prefect-ing. Knowing about a party but just not reporting it."

"What about you? Owning an Invisibility Cloak? Having whisky on school grounds and supplying a minor with it and convincing her to steal more?"

Uh-oh. Impasse. "Alright, so we've both got shite on each other. Are we even?"

"Cloak whenever I want. I'll send a note, and you need to give it to me."

"Immunity whenever I want. I use you as an alibi and you need to cover for me."

You shook on it.

"Teach me another Muggle song.", he murmured against your temple. Alright, the drunk excuse was hanging by a thread. There was no reason, sober or otherwise, for him to be this close to you, this intimate, this... boyfriend-y.

"Mm... there's this one I really like. It's called All Shook Up."

"Alright?"

"It starts off so depressing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. The first, first line is just... 'Well, bless my soul, what's wrong with me?' !"

He doubled over in laughter then. Not particularly because this random Muggle singer's lyricism was bonkers, but because it was you. You were laughing. So, he was, too.

And you two giggled and giggled because the sherry hit perfectly into your brains.

"Show me Regulus' star."

It was funny, you spent the next five minutes showing him Regulus, Sirius (he'd forgotten), Bellatrix, Alphard, and whatever other Black family members he could remember, and when he ran out of those, his fingers dug gently into the flesh of your arm that was extended right in front of his face, as you were pointing. He used that grip to haul you right where he wanted you. Against his chest. Against his lips.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Prefect."

"It's the 23rd of December, you absolute tosser!", you exclaimed, shoving him back by the chest.

Harsh, but fair.

Clandestine affairs had always enthralled you, but it was really not a good look for you, of all people, to be having one with a pureblood Gryffindor, known for his impressive detention record and asshole-streak, and it definitely would not do his amazing reputation any favours by him being this addicted to snogging you, a goody-two-shoes, stickler-for-the-rules-except-when-with-him, pretentious bookworm that everyone in Gryffindor house knew (thought) he hated.

Yeah, not your finest moments, either of you.

"I think we should stop."

His heart nearly stopped at that. Fuck.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why? There's no valid reason to."

"Is there a valid reason to continue?"

He rolled his eyes. "I know you overwork yourself, but I do hope you're familiar with the concept of having a good time. You are, aren't you?"

Yanking you right back, he cupped your face in his hands. "Fine, then, look down at my wristwatch. It's nearly Christmas Eve."

"So?"

"Come on. You're supposed to be the swot here. Us gettin' along is a Christmas miracle, isn't it? Just like your eyes in the starlight.", he grinned, dimples popping up as though to second his statement and help convince you to snog the life out of him.

You rolled your eyes, and he cocked his head, resting his elbows on the railing and his chin in his palm, almost patronisingly. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"That. Almost looks like... no can't be! Is that... are the corners of your lips... are you... smiling?"

"Fuck off, no I'm not!"

He tapped on your nose, before pinching it to move your head from side to side. "You can steal pretty beautifully, darling, but you can't lie to save your life." You slapped him away, and he used the opportunity to grip your hands and drape them over his shoulders. "Trust me."

How had he gone six years hating you, three years jealous of you (Slug Club, ugh), and seventeen bloody years without kissing you?

He's not sure that's a survivable feat.

Maybe he's been dead all this time.

"Trust a Marauder?"

"Trust me. It's like your mate Freddie Mercury says, 'everything's alright, just hold on tight'.",he replied, mimicking the same slow-motion-punch you'd landed on his cheek earlier.

"Don't bring Mercury into this. That's not fair."

He shrugged, sighing magnanimously. "I'm a good, old-fashioned loverboy."

"Oh, please—"

"Come on, kiss me again, I'll prove it." He looked down at his watch once more. "You kiss me until midnight, and then, on Christmas Eve, if you still have reasons to hate me, then this stays within tonight. Doesn't spill over to tomorrow. Sound fair?"

"What's the catch?"

"If you feel differently, you have to tell me. Alright? No hidin' it to save your pride. Yeah?"

"Fine."

It took you a long while to agree, but he wasn't impatient, because he knew he'd win this. He'd seen it in your eyes, your smile, your skin, glowing.

Yeah, glowing was common when you find something you didn't expect. Treasure. An old journal. This.

He's sure you will lie, for a couple more days, act like he doesn't exist, especially during that annoying span of time between Christmas and New Year's, because it always makes everyone supremely miffed for no apparent reason. He knows you're going to lie and say it was the Firewhiskey-slash-sherry, and ruin the best thing ever, that both of you have accidentally stumbled upon.

But honestly, come on. It's James Potter.

What's he going to do?

Let you?

[johanna-swann]

Okay, so this is going to sound very conspiracy theory like, but here's what I think happened (in regards to Bobby's death, Tommy being back, Eddie still not being back and a general outlook on season 9).

I think Tim Minear came back to the show, they moved to a different network, they churned out half a season somehow between multiple strikes and other adjustments. They put a lot of money into the opening disaster which worked and got fans excited. They peppered in soap opera style plot points throughout the rest of the season (wedding episode, Buck coming out, Doppelgänger plot, reintroducing Bobby's background, new Henren kid) because the fans care about the characters and what happens to them. There was barely any procedural in this drama throughout most of season 7, it was 90% the characters' personal drama they showed.

But people were willing to overlook this because at least all the characters had stuff going on and there were extenuating circumstances. Then season 8a rolled around. Once again they went big on the opening disaster, after that though?

Most of the plots introduced in season 7 were dropped immediately. Bobby was suicidal at the end of last season, he's fine in 8x01 though. The conflict between Eddie and Christopher is mentioned here and there, but we don't see Eddie working on his issues. Ortiz is defeated and written out of the show in the very first episode after the opening disaster. Athena gets her thriller plot in the opening disaster and then gets sidelined for the next idk how many episodes. Maddie and Chimney are barely main characters at all, they mostly just exist in the background. The only relevant plot they kept going was Bucktommy, but even they only got insubstantial comedy side plots until they were suddenly broken up. The mid-season finale was a huge let-down and there was barely anything interesting going on in the show anymore.

Here's where the conspiracy part begins: Without the distraction of at least one engaging plot to follow and the lack of new episodes coming in viewers started to notice that the show was treading water. Then the feedback started to trickle in and it wasn't good. I think that's when they decided that they really had to do something that would shake things up and change things permanently. They had already filmed the serial killer two parter though, so they only made small changes / additions (Buddie goodbye scene) and started to really write stories with a lasting impact again post 8x10.

Call me crazy, but I think they really didn't plan to bring Tommy back, not so soon and not as Buck's love interest. That's not what the interviews sounded like back in November. But then, only a few episodes after the break-up suddenly Tommy was back, they showed how both Buck and Tommy still have feelings for each other and literally made Buck say the words "I am not in love with Eddie". There will be no more "will they won't they" "queerbaity-ish" plots between Buck and Eddie, that conversation is over. They gave a nod to the fandom by bringing it up like "yeah, we see you" and at the same time let them down gently by saying "we're going another direction though". That is a very permanent decision for a show that doesn't like change. The way they keep bringing Tommy back, even when he's only mentioned, could very well also mean he's here to stay which means giving Buck, the resident perpetual bachelor, a permanent love interest. Another huge change.

The second thing they did was remove Eddie from the equation. Not completely, not permanently, not yet. But let me just throw the idea out there: What if this was a test run? A "let's not get rid of him just yet, let's see if we can manage without him first". So they sent Eddie to Texas. Finally did something with that plot, even if it was severely disappointing and made no sense. (The problem was that Eddie had issues he didn't work on and in the process hurt his kid and broke his trust. Then we see them in Texas, but suddenly Eddie's mom is the actual problem while Christopher is super chill around Eddie? When the last time we saw them speak to each other Christopher barely wanted to talk to Eddie? Make it make sense.) Anyway, Eddie still got his screen time, but they kept him firmly separated from the 118. Buck was on the phone with Eddie a few times, mostly so Eddie would have a scene partner who he could talk to openly, nobody else even mentioned Eddie. Bobby accidentally called Ravi "Eddie" twice, but I think that was more about Ravi feeling like maybe he doesn't belong rather than Bobby actually missing Eddie. So yeah, maybe this was a trial run to see if they can do season 9 without Eddie and so far I have to admit, I don't really miss him? I'm sure they could've worked him into the recent two parter, but they definitely didn't need him.

Third they brought back Ravi and this time everyone is happy to have him there. Buck tries to actually be his friend this time around, gets to be a mentor figure for him and Ravi has his small "maybe I'm not cut out for this" to "I'll commit domestic terrorism if that's what it takes" arc. 8x14 really cemented that Ravi is a part of the team and he chooses to be a part of this team. He's a pall bearer in Bobby's funeral for god's sake, he belongs to the 118 - a 118 that needs new members because they're losing at least one this season. So. Ravi main season 9?

Big change number 4 - Bobby's death. A main character death is a big, big stunt. If they decide they don't like Tommy for Buck after all, they can change their minds later. If they decide they want Eddie back, they can leave options open to bring him back later. Bobby's death? They can't walk that one back. Bobby and Buck are probably the most central characters for the firefam (Bobby as the patriarch and Buck as the link between all sides of the family) and Peter Krause is no small name on tv. This is not a move they would've pulled if they weren't committed to making drastic changes to a show that previously had come to a bit of a standstill. They want to change the very foundation of this show. If they're willing to kill off one of the main characters among main characters, what else are they willing to change? Some of the above? All of it?

The final piece is still very vague, but they also said they wanted to keep Athena connected to the 118 in a tangible way. People have suggested that May might become a firefighter, but tbh I don't think it would fit. She already was a part of the first responder network for an entire year and then decided to go to uni anyway. Athena went to uni and then decided to become a cop instead, May did it the other way around. Why would they change that again now? I think it's more likely that a) Harry graduates and applies to the academy or that b) they'll make May and Ravi a couple. The latter could also make sense if they're trying to keep the same amount and kinds of couples around. If Buck and Tommy really get back together and become a permanent fixture in the 911 universe, May and Ravi could be the new "will they won't they" couple who keep running into stupid hurdles because they're not sure what they're doing while Bucktommy slowly settle down.

Conclusion: Big changes are on the horizon for 911, they already vaguely teased that there may be cast changes other than just Peter Krause being gone for season 9. I think they decided that some major changes needed to happen during the winter hiatus and then talked about a few possibilities, tried some of them and are now ready to finalise those decisions. Maybe one of the reasons that filming is coming along so slowly is that they weren't sure yet which route to go, had to re-shoot scenes or filmed several versions to choose from. (There are soooo many stills that never showed up in an episode.) Idk, but what I do know is that there are a lot of possibilities for permanent change to choose from and they seem committed to actually go through with those changes this time.

[joyswonderland1108]

"Manifest Harder, Babe. Reality's Already Moved In."

There's something inherently hilarious about people preaching confidently about things they very clearly don't know while sounding like they've just discovered the concept of basic foreshadowing. Like, yes babe, please keep telling Jikookers to "just wait until the military's over" so we can "finally see their real FEMALE partners" as if that train hasn't already left the station, crashed, and been rebuilt into a luxury mansion.. Uhm.

It's the conviction for me. The certainty. The "you'll see soon" energy that's about to age like milk on a hot windowsill.

And then.. plot twist! There's the sudden burst of legal inspiration from a certain someone who previously couldn't be bothered to address a thing but now is suddenly panicking on live, threatening lawsuits, and spiraling like a cartoon villain cornered in the final scene. How poetic. It's like watching someone walk into their own trap in slow motion. It's giving "Say Jimin's name one more time and my lawyer will appear in the mirror" energy. Some people need to stop playing with names they were never meant to say out loud. The "fueling the rumors is gone". The silence is gone, replaced by a high-pitched squeaking and legal threats. Karma didn't knock, it filed paperwork.

Meanwhile, over in a much more peaceful parallel timeline, where very unbothered individuals have been doing.. spring cleaning of sorts. Things are just.. moving. Literally. Stuff, energy, presence. One minute something's in a place, the next it's not. And that "not" just so happens to align with a location that certain people definitely don't want mentioned in the same sentence as Jimin. But hey, coincidences, right?

And shout out to the unhinged K-solos who really thought they were ending careers, only to accidentally confirm what most of us clocked three Februarys ago. Oops. The timeline said "thank you for your contribution". The wigs? Scattered. The delusion? Shattered. Your fantasy y/n storyline? Cancelled due to lack of realism.

Me? Oh no, i don't know. I'm just a little moonbeam floating through the timeline, watching the puzzle pieces assemble themselves in HD. I just sip tea and raise my eyebrows when people say "fanservice" like the emotional intensity, private matching vacation time, and shared zip codes were part of a BigHit PowerPoint deck.

What's coming? Oh.. astonishing things. But don't worry, some people will keep yelling "fake!" until the wedding invitations are hand-delivered. And maybe even after that.

Until then?

Keep manifesting those heteronormative storylines, babe. Manifest harder. Because reality? She's already unpacked, decorated the place, and started watering the plants.

[luciaintheskyainthi]

HI HOW ARE YOU, i promised i would be here, i come from "An even keel"

I love this, I could read a thousand chapters and one from each family member, it never happened (i said that fine? English its still difficult, sorry for some wrong sentences here, 😞) to me that they could be even more sincere about loving each other from another perspective, the unconscious gestures and jayyy (pookie)

I found it so much fun that dick had such different ideas of who Jason is, it reminded me of what i think its the last chapter of ecm when he believes his brother could turn Peter into a weapon, and its when jay replies that dick thinks it's like he sees his brother for the first time. And I was also offended at the same second as Jason, man, how can you believe that about him? You're DEAF??? But its okay, its fictional, i have to calm down, HAHA, no

Don't you see the whole point that Jason has always tried to make? I was also a little stubborn when I saw that he don't find Peter attractive, and i agree with steph of his painful heterosexuality, BUT MAN-

I want to believe he thinks that it's because peter was just starting to feed himself, taking shape, deep into the trauma, I remember that near this range of chapters he was described emaciated and thin, so I want to forgive dick that Peter has nothing particularly special, but I'm glad when I remember that also in this range of chapters and later, Jason always sees nice things in Peter, deer eyes, freckles, and I know, I don't remember exactly the words or the exact chapter, but I put my hands in the fire and swear that Jason described Peter's physique as well as empathically (from seeing him malnourished) noticed and called him openly attractive, still denying any feeling or directly disregarding it yet, and still, seeing Peter with good eyes, and burying me with that idea. After all, I imagine Jason saying, "I have to like him, not you."

And i am here fighting with dick and you are the author HAHA but i continue

Also, i am not saying that dick its bad or something, i am just a team jason, anyways

And dick comparing Peter to artemis and the other girls, that was an amazing detail in dick's character, i continue arguing, HOW DARE YOU DICK GRAYSON-

He literally said "that powerful goddess artemis, and, this guy, this creature" sounds so STRAIGHT, and it also made me laugh

I think thats all(? But i'll probably come back 🦅

I thought about commenting on this in the fic on ao3, but i started to write more and more, and i want to share this with you here

Have a good day 💗 (i hope k have fed the muse haha)

I'm not gonna lie, your outrage at Dick not finding Peter attractive has made me cackle for a while now. 🤭 But as you say, it's Jason that's gotta like Pete, not Dick hehe

I think the chapter you're referring might be chapter 15? The cuddle chapter:

Jason pulled back so Peter did too, offering Jason a sleepy smile before looking out at the city. The night hugged the slowly refilling contours of his cheeks and his long, thick lashes. The expression in his dark eyes was unreadable, but Jason’s gut swooped at the sight. Beautiful, a traitorous voice offered. He looked away and focused on Peter’s slowly warming weight in his lap.

Augh I loved that scene ☠️ Fun fact, the original chapter name for that chapter was "Don't think about the eyes don't think about the eyes don't think about the-- shit". Then I wrote the additional scene to the chapter (the one at the start) and the chapter name changed to fit hehe.

Thank-you for your lovely ask, you have indeed fed the muse well 💖💖💖🍽️

[protectionelainsquad]

Every single theory leads back to Elain and Azriel. every. damn. one.

First off—let’s get the obvious outta the way. Elain is 1000% the next main female character.

SJM literally said she did research and studied for this book. and she’s an Archeron. it’s her turn. period.

And there’s SO MUCH pointing to it:

• in the feysand bonus chapter from ACOSF, Rhys straight up says: “first one sister (Nesta), then the other.”

• Elain is heavily implied to be ready—or soon-to-be—to train and tap into her powers.

• and now with HOFAS? her powers line up perfectly. especially when you look at her next to Azriel.

Let’s talk about the Dusk Court.

Elain’s into gardening, right? and people LOVE to clown her for it, like it’s some silly little thing. But HELLO, every SJM heroine has a “thing.” and this? This will matter.

when we talk about Elain, it’s not just “seer.” it’s powers—plural.

The Cauldron literally loved her enough to give her life, just like it gave Nesta death.

Nesta = death.

Elain = life.

Now imagine Elain, full of this life-giving power, awakening the Eighth Court—the Dusk Court.

And Azriel? the shadowy, mysterious male who’s never fully fit anywhere? what if he’s the heir to that court?

plot twist: the two of them aren’t just compatible—they’re meant to restore a piece of Prythian’s forgotten history.

And the Cauldron?

in that bonus chapter (you know the one—Azriel, Elain, Gwyn), Az drops a bomb:

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

like??? what if the Cauldron got it wrong??

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

And now HOFAS is like: “yeah btw the Cauldron is controlled by the Daglan and was trying to breed stronger offspring so...”

We're talking about this since ACOWAR.

Az feels the bond between Elain and Lucien. and not in a “cute jealousy” way. Like he literally feels sick.

and Amren was the only other one who could feel mating bonds in ACOMAF.

but Az doesn’t feel all bonds—he didn’t feel Feysand’s. just Elucien’s.

What if that’s because… there are two mating bonds?

• The Cauldron’s: Elain + Lucien.

• The Mother’s: the real deal. soul-deep. chosen. Elriel.

But what about Lucien???

yeah let’s go there.

this bond with Elain? it’s been hanging around since ACOWAR.

but like… nothing’s happening. no romantic scenes. no tension. no anything.

Elain actively avoids him. She loses her voice around him. She wants nothing to do with him.

And Lucien? He’s literally living with another woman. Also he’s linked to Vassa. And Vassa’s under a spell. and Lucien’s the son of the guy who breaks spells.

Yeah. that’s a plot. That’s its own arc. Not Elain’s.

And no. Elain can’t “just say no” and move on.

If she rejects Lucien, the political fallout would be HUGE.

Beron’s ready to go full villain. he’ll use this to start a war. Blood Duel. Chaos. Alliances crumbling. It’s not that simple.

Now let’s zoom out.

Sarah J. Maas basically invented the mating bond trend in romantasy.

Everyone’s copying it.

Feysand walked so a million other romantasy couples could run.

But what if Elain’s book breaks the trope?

What if she is the one who says:

“I don’t want this bond.”

“I don’t want the male that the Cauldron, fate picked for me.”

“I want to choose for myself.”

Imagine a story where a girl rejects the magical destined bond.

And not because it’s broken or abusive—but just because she doesn’t want it.

Iconic.

SJM’s stories are all about choice.

Feyre and Rhys? They chose each other before the bond.

Nesta and Cassian? Same.

Bryce and Hunt? Same.

Aelin and Rowan? Same.

Feyre didn't even knew about the mating bond, and Rhysand didn't want to tell her, leaving her the possibility to choose.

CHOICE. Not fate. Not obligation. Not “you’re mine because magic said so.”

Love that’s freely chosen.

So why should Elain be forced to accept a bond she doesn’t want?

Lucien doesn’t even seem to want it either. like… he’s vibing with someone else entirely.

And in today’s world?

this story would hit hard.

A female lead saying:

“I don’t owe him anything.”

“I don’t have to give him a chance.”

“I get to choose who I love.”

YES.

We Elriel fans don’t want another ACOSF.

We want something like ACOMAF. Like TOG.

Not just smut and vibes—but a story with depth. A slow-burn, emotional, soul-healing, plot-driving masterpiece.

With a heroine who grows, heals, and shines.

Elain has so much potential.

She’s not a warrior like Nesta or Aelin or Manon. But she’s powerful in her softness. Gentle.

She deserves a book that shows the strength in that.

And we’re ready for it.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@jollyhunter

Ah yes, here we go. *Takes a sip of my mug* I always feel warm and cozy just by your wonderful descriptions of the setting! Just makes me want to be right there!

Aww thank you so much again for this compliment! I've been really trying to get better with setting and this fic has been helping me through this 🥰 But thank you for pointing it out 💗

Also... I'm not sure if this particular fic is going to be calming... 😬

WHEN DIN YANKED THE CREEPY LIZZID MAN BACK I WENT FERAL

See what I mean 🤭🤣 This one was very much:

FUCK YEAH - This is the moment I had to sit up straight in bed because I knew when Din's pissed, shit's about to go down. And then he delivers THE LINE!!

Yep, yep, yep. This one made me feral too while I was writing it. Din saying that line made me WEAK IN THE KNEES! Oh stars, protective Din going feral to save his girl was just 👀🥵 Also I literally was losing it when he said the "I don't want you to see this" 🤭 That man loves his girl so much.

I know I shouldn’t laugh but the unholy images I just had in my head, of Din trying to do it while wearing his full Beskar armor 😭🤣

🤣

Oh yeah. The unholy things that man wrapped in a tin can can do 👀 At the same time I feel like it would be so uncomfortable 🤔 Not just for him but for his partner? Idk maybe I'm just thinking too hard about it lol

HOLY mACARoNI SOMEBODY PICK UP MY POPCORN - IT'S HAPPENING - IT'S REALLY HAPPENING - ... you sneaky bastard. *throws popcorn at screen*

#not ashamed #you know you love it Jolly 😘

I swear I thought we were getting the kiss now since you teased it in your last chapter. But this was such a wholesome scene!! I loved the soft dynamics between the two idiots in love and of course THE ENDING!!! As always, amazing chapter, lovely 👏💗💗💗

I know I did tease it a little bit in the last chapter, but they did kiss... it just wasn't the full helmet off 😅 But I will say that Din wanted to kiss her for realsies, but then he got nervous and she hugged him 😭 Poor baby doesn't know what to do with his feelings lol. I also feel like the reader too doesn't know what to do with her feelings because she's afraid to scare Din away too 😅 EXACTLY IDIOTS IN LOVE!

But YAY! I'm glad you liked it! And thank you so much for this- you're spoiling me with these reviews my lovely friend 🤗🥰

What Did I Say?

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: A trip to the market takes a turn for the worst when you run into a bounty hunter that doesn't take no for an answer. Takes place after Season 3 when Din and Grogu have been living in their cabin on Nevarro. This is the fourth fic in my Sugar, Spice, and Starlight Series!

Tropes: Touch Her And Die, Protective!Din, Bakery AU, Grumpy vs. Sunshine, Mutual Pining, Shy!Din

Word Count: 9K (HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! 😱)

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ just because this contains an UNWELCOME ADVANCE from someone on the reader (not Din) (it's creepy, And the reader does get hurt- just a little bit), Angst, Blood, Death, Super Creepy Transdoshan, Din Protecting the Reader and Being Super Hot While Doing it, Loverboy!Din But The Reader Doesn't Know It, One or two curse words?, Din taking care of the reader, The reader is really soft and likes to bake? Din being a little bit self-deprecating to himself? Din might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n! I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite! I'm just starting to write for Din, so please be gentle.

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: Again, this does contain an unwelcome (somewhat sexual? I really don't know what to call it) advance from a creepy lizard man, please, PLEASE, do not read this if that's something that will hurt you. I really don't want anyone to be effected negatively by this. After that whole situation it does get really cute...

The sounds and smells of the market were all around you, flooding your senses as you wove through the multicolored stalls on the bright afternoon. The sun above warmed your shoulders through the soft red dress you wore that swished around your ankles with each step through the crowds.

The smell of spices, fruit, fresh baked pastry, and perfumes wafted up from the booths around you while the chittering of creatures in cages, the low hum of electricity, and the sound of vendors calling out to the other shoppers filled your ears. Families walked through the streets enjoying the fare and children giggled while they darted through the crowds playing tag while lone shoppers migrated from booth to booth, drawn in by smooth talking vendors with beconing hands.

It was one of those wonderful Saturdays. You had woken up early, made enough pastries for the morning rush, and left your assistant Jax in charge while you went grocery shopping. There was a list clutched in your hand written in your untidy scrawl, but you were only partly paying attention to it.

Shopping in the market was one of your favorite things to do.

Everyday there was a new vendor or a new product being sold, and you often didn't know where to look for fear of missing out on something strange and unusual. It always awakened a sense of excitement and joy, and of course it always made you feel more connected to the community on Nevarro.

You lean over the display of baskets filled with brightly colored and various sized fruits and vegetables that spill out in a colorful blur onto the small table.

“How about these?” The vendor asks with a wide smile, a hint of an accent on the end of his words, while he holds out a small container of bright purple fruit, each no bigger than the tip of your pinky.

You take a bite, allowing the sour and sweet taste of the fruit explode in your mouth, while the juice stains the delicate skin of your fingertips.

In your mind you begin to assemble a pastry around the flavor, thinking of the things you could make.

Maybe a jelly roll with honey-wine drizzle.

“These are perfect! I'll take two boxes." You smiling at the vendor who mirrors your enthusiasm and begins to pack up a bag for you while your eyes drift over the other fruits on the table considering what else you could create from oddly shaped products.

The market never failed to inspire you, and you often went back to the bakery laden down with multiple bags and exciting ideas about possible treats to bake. You also supposed that was the curse of shopping hungry, and it was something that you did often, but never regretted

Today you had been hoping to find more inspiration for savory treats. Since the day you went with Din to parent's night, he'd gone from stopping by a few times a week to everyday. And each time you'd send him off loaded down with a bag full of meat pies, stew, pastries, and anything else that you could think of.

It made you smile to yourself, but it drops a little bit when you think of him. Din hadn't been into the shop in a week. You knew that it was because he was out on "a job." He hadn't said where  he was going or what he was doing, but he had stopped by just before closing time the night before he left to tell you.

He'd loitered by the door for a few moments watching you sweep up and listen to you talk about your day while Grogu slept in the bag slung around Din's broad chest. And after he'd told you that he was going to be off planet for a few days.

You been surprised that he was telling you that, but at the same time you were happy he did. If Din had stopped showing up with no warning, you would have been worried that something terrible happened to him.

Despite his hesitancy to talk about it, you knew what Din did for a living, and even though you knew that Din was supposedly a mighty warrior and he wore armor that protected him, you still worried about him. The thought that Din would just vanish from your life made an unpleasant feeling bubble in the pit of your stomach.

It had happened so quickly, but you could feel yourself falling for him more each day, and his time away from you this week, had only proven how much you depended on seeing him every day.

The week had dragged on, each day longer and longer in Din's absense. You'd almost gone to find Karga to ask him if he'd heard from Din, or stopped Cara as she did her daily rounds about the city to see if Din was back. You'd held yourself back.

The trip to the market at the end of the longest week of your life had been an attempt to cheer yourself up, but it hadn't done much to keep your mind off him.

Each flash of silver in the sun had turned your head as you walked through, heart surging at the thought of running into Din, but every time you'd been disappointed.

It wasn't him and you missed him more than you thought possible.

You missed hearing his heavy sigh, seeing the tilt of his head as he watched you with a customer, and feeling the warmth of his gaze that made your cheeks heat.

You missed hearing his laugh at your jokes, seeing him cradling a sleeping Grogu in his arms, and smiling at the awkward hesitation Din had whenever you did something for him that he wasn’t expecting. Like when you rubbed a smudge of icing off his breastplate because Grogu had touched it with sticky hands, or when you'd made Din sit still while you patched a hole in his cowl with the emergency sewing kit you always had with you while he stammered that you didn't have to do that.

Those moments made you imagine that Din was blushing beneath his Beskar and smiling at you the way you smiled at him. You understood that the grumpy and somewhat stoic Mandalorian you'd come to know was not someone who blushed easily, but it gave you an unfathomable amount of joy to be the only person that could do that to Din.

Or at least… think that you were the one who made him blush.

“Hey baby.” You hear someone hiss, but you ignore it, expecting it to be directed at another customer and you continue looking at a collection of vegetables on the table, that are star shaped and bright red.

I wonder if they'd bring a little spice to a good hearty stew. Does Din like spicy food?

You made a mental note to ask him when you saw him.

“You here all alone?” The voice says again and you feel someone’s hand on the small of your back, pressing through the crimson dress you were wearing.

You flinch at the intrusion and turn your head to gaze up at a large Transdoshan that stands beside you. His reptilian face is split into a wicked smirk, tongue treading through his black lips, red beady eyes raking across your figure in a more than friendly way.

Nevarro did occasionally get a colorful group of bounty hunters, each month there were less and less with the way Cara and Karga were cleaning up the city, but you'd never seen a Transdoshan here before, especially not one this close.

Most of the bounty hunters kept to themselves, only coming in to your shop with clipped words before you sent them on their way, but there was something lurking behind his beady eyes that made a cold shiver trickle down your spine and your heart beat dangerously fast.

You wondered if he could hear it.

“No.” The lie slips through your lips before you can stop it, and you try to pull away from him to continue shopping, hoping that he'll leave, while the vendor watches the two of you uncomfortably.

“I think you are." The Transdoshan teases with a smiles so wide you can see all of his sharp teeth.  "And someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be out all alone on a beautiful day like this.”

The black stripes that run vertically up and down his face are a stark contrast against the white scales and red eyes. His hand presses harder against the small of your back and you can feel the sharp tips of his claws against your soft flesh through the dress.

You clear your throat, trying to slow the rapid beat of your heart. "Can you please move your hand? I'm trying to shop." You say it as politely as possible, but it does little to keep the tremor from your voice.

His red eyes crinkle around the edges with his smile as he hears the shake on your words. “I think I’ll keep it here. In fact why don’t you and I go somewhere a little more private.” He rasps, tongue flicking out through his fangs, as his other hand travels down to grip your wrist dragging your body back into his. His skin is cold, scaly, hard, and unyielding where it rests against your flesh.

His breath is warm and smells like something coppery and metallic, while his tongue tickles your cheek.

Another shudder travels down your spine when you think about going anywhere with him, especially alone.

Your eyes flick to the other people in the marketplace hoping to catch a glimpse of Cara Dune for help, but you don't see her.

You wish that Din hadn't gone away, wish that he was here with you, because you knew that if he was someone like this Trashdoshan would never come within ten feet of you.

“I’m okay thanks.”  You try to pull away cringing back from him, but he only tightens the grip he has on you, pulling your back harder against his chest.

“Come on sweet thing, don't be like that-“ the Transdoshan leans down, his dark tongue flicking between his sharp teeth, but as he does someone grabs him by the back of his jacket and rips him away from you, so hard and fast that the he stumbles away and lands in the dirt.

Even wearing full armor, Din looks furious as he puts himself between you and the Transdoshan laying on the ground a few feet away. Anger wafts off of him in waves through the silver Beskar into the blaring sunlight, and his shadow falls long over the warm ground beneath your feet.

Din pushes you behind him, wrapping his arm around your waist to keep your body pressed against his back as he looms over the Transdoshan. Your hand automatically comes up to his shoulder, allowing it to ground you to where you are, while Din’s hand is placed firmly on the back of your waist.

The Transdoshan rises to his feet with an angry snarl, lips curled back over pointed teeth that are about half the length of your pinky. It makes another shudder travel down your spine and you gasp softly against Din.

You feel Din's body tense at the sound of your gasp and feeling of your shudder, and the hand on the back of your hip tightens as Din pushes you further behind him into his back. You lean into his protective embrace.

“Don't you ever touch her again.” Din’s voice, although monotone, is laced with venom.

The Transdoshan's eyes flick to where you stand behind Din, his lips curling into a wicked smirk before he says something in his native tongue and then vanishes into the crowds of people enjoying the sunny day who have watched the drama unfold with wide eyes.

You relax as he vanishes and take a breath for the first time in a minute. “Thank you Din.” You say, but Din doesn't answer, in fact his arm tightens around you where it's wrapped around your waist. 

“Din?” You say his name softly to get his attention, but he doesn't turn. His gaze is focused in the direction that the Transdoshan disappeared.

“Wait here.” He says his voice still a growl through his helmet before he hands you the kid and vanishes in the same direction as the Transdoshan.

You try not to be disappointed when his arm is removed from around your body. You had felt so safe pressed against him, like no one could touch you.

You take in a shaky breath to calm your heart, that still seems to be going a mile a minute. Grogu reaches up and touches your chin with one of his little hands, drawing your eyes to the child in your arms.

“Hey Grogu,” You smile as the child coos and puts his fingers through your hair, tugging lightly at the strands that have pulled free from your floral scarf.

He coos something and nuzzles his head into your chest. You might be imagining this, but there's a part of you that thinks Grogu is trying to make you feel better.

It works.

You smile at the little creature, holding him closer to you as he reaches up again to squeeze your chin. "I'm okay."

Grogu blinks his dark eyes, but he mirrors your smile.

 “Are you having fun at the market?” You ask him, gently rubbing his ears, but notice that he has a brown sticky substance smeared on the bottom half of his mouth. “You’re a mess.” You laugh and take out a cloth from your bag, wet it with your tongue, and begin to gently drag it over his face.

Grogu wriggles defiantly under your ministrations, but you hold him fast and continue, allowing the rhythmic movement of the cloth against his face calm you and also distract you.

You had no idea where Din had gone, only that you were now more worried about him than you had been for yourself.

The Transdoshan was bigger than Din, what if he hurts him?

Din reappears next to you, the shine of his metal in the sunlight almost blinding, but you feel a wave of relief at his reappearance. There's a purplish-black substance flecked just under the right intention of his helmet that wasn’t there when he left.

“Are you alright Cyare?” Din asks, his voice a low rumble through the helmet, and then Din does something he’s never done, Din touches your cheek with his gloved hand, his helmet tilted down towards you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, gasping softly with his touch. It was the first time that Din had ever done anything remarkably like this, especially in front of the entire town that was still watching the two of you.

They always were, but by now you didn't care. You were used to the whispers, used to seeing women in the streets stare at you and then turn to one another as if they knew something you didn't.

"Yes." You breathe, looking up into the helmet with a soft smile. "Thank you Din."

"You do not have to thank me." Din replies, the roughness of his glove resting against your cheek is surprisingly comfortable.

"But-"

"Not for something like this. He won't bother you again." He says firmly, voice hardening.

For a brief moment you can feel his gaze locked on yours through the visor, and it brings a wave of comfort through your body, being here with him. A feeling of safety comes with it and you lean further into his touch with a sigh.

Din keeps his hand on your cheek for another few seconds before he drops it. You watch his head tilt in the direction of Grogu, who is still trying to squirm away from the wipe in your hand.

“I guess he’s saving whatever that was for later.” You say with a smile, changing the subject.

“We stopped at the shop, but you weren’t there.” Din explains. You can't help but think that he sounds a little disappointed.

“Oh so this is Uj cake.” You laugh as you finish cleaning. “I left Jax in charge. She’s pretty good at cashiering, not so much baking, but I thought that I made enough sweets for the morning rush at least."

The people pass by the two of you glancing nervously at the Mandalorian standing next to you, but you pay them no mind, gently rocking the child in your arms.

“How are you?” You ask Din.

"Good."

“I-um- wasn’t sure when you’d be back.” You drop your eyes to Grogu in your arms shyly. It was difficult not to show Din how much you missed him, and at the same time there was a part of you that wanted Din to know.

“It wasn’t supposed to take that long, but-“ Din stops mid-sentence, measuring his next words.

“But?” You look up at him raising an eyebrow in confusion.

You noticed that he did that a lot, that Din tried to censor what he said to you as if he were afraid to tell you the whole truth.

Sometimes you wondered if Din was waiting for you to run away screaming, for you to turn your back on him the way everyone else in town had, and it broke your heart. You wanted him to open up about his job with you, to tell you what he did, to tell you about the sprawling worlds that lay beyond this one.

You’d only been to a handful of other planets in your lifetime and you were sure that Din had some incredible stories about other worlds all over the galaxy.

Din waits another beat finding his words. “He kept evading me. I’m sorry I was gone so long.” Din remarks slowly.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“I did-“ He clears his throat. “Bring you something.” Din's fingers fidget slightly where his hands hang at his sides.

“Oh really?" You blink in surprise. "You didn’t have to.”

Din reaches into his bag and pulls out an old book. It’s covered in a dark blue tattered binding with faded silver script on the spine and cover, and yellowed pages. He takes Grogu from you before holding out the book to you.

You take it gently from his hand and open the first page to read the table of contents, and realize that it's a cookbook. The listed dishes of sweet and savory items are things you’d never heard of, but you feel yourself begin to buzz with excitement at the thought of trying out new recipes.

He was thinking about me.

The thought makes you smile to yourself and blush, that Din thought about you as much as you were thinking about him.

“I saw you sitting at the fountain a few days before I left, reading, and I thought you’d want another one.” His voice is huskier than usual and you wonder if it’s because he’s nervous.

“That was very sweet Din. Thank you.” You brush your fingers over the page before looking up at him with a bright smile. “I can’t wait to try these out."

He nods once.

“Why didn’t you come say hi when you saw me?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I would have welcomed the disruption. Especially if I knew if you were going, I missed seeing you around." Your cheeks warm as you admit that to him, but you wondered if he felt that way about you, especially now that you had the cookbook clasped in your hand.

Din's muscles tense beneath his Beskar. "I-" He begins to say, but just as he does the Greef Karga walks by.

"Mando! You're back." Karga smiles wide at the sight of the Mandalorian. "Just who I wanted to see."

Din sighs. "What is it?"

"I need your help with something- only take a minute." Karga's gaze flicks to you. "Well isn't it Nevarro's favorite baker. Are you enjoying this fine day?"

The memory of the Transdoshan flickers across your mind, bringing the sharp feeling of his claws prickling against your back, and the warmth of his breath against your face. You shudder slightly, hoping that Karga misses it.

Din doesn't.

"Yes." Your smile feels a little bit forced. "I am."

"Good!" Karga booms. "Now Mando please, don’t make me ask again. I need you, old friend.”

Din's helmet hasn't turned away from where you stand, his concerned gaze focused on you for a moment too long. "Fine."

"Thank you!" Karga turns to go, expecting Din to follow, but Din steps closer to you.

"Are you alright cyar'ika?" Din asks it quietly under his breath and you watch his right hand twitch as if he was going to reach for your face again.

You didn’t know what the word meant, but you’d noticed that each time you were with Din, he'd use more and more words in Mando'a that you couldn't place. By now you were used to it, figuring that Din was getting more comfortable talking casually with you and it caused certain words in Mando'a to slip in to his vocabulary when he spoke.

"Yes, Din I'm fine. I promise." Your smile is genuine this time as you look up into the helm, and you reach out to touch his arm to reassure him.

Din waits a moment, his eyes tracing over you face beneath the helmet, before he sighs. "Can you watch the kid for me?"

"Of course. I'll go back to the shop. I'm sure that I can find something he wants to snack on." You place your new book in your bag before taking Grogu from Din, who gurgles happily and nuzzles into your neck.

Din sighs again and you imagine the Mandalorian rolling his eyes. "You shouldn't spoil him."

"He deserves it. And I like spoiling people." You didn't say that you wished Din would let you spoil him, because the big scary Mandalorian you'd heard rumors about was nothing like the man who showed up in your bakery for treats. There was a voice inside of you that wondered if he was as lonely as you were. "Thank you for the book, I'll see you in a little bit."

You walk away whispering to the child while he gurgles and squeaks grabbing on to the strands of your hair, not noticing how Din's eyes follow you through the market making sure that you're safe.

By closing time, Din still hasn't come to pick up Grogu, but you don’t mind. You liked spending time with him as much as you liked spending time with his father. You'd sent Jax home early, wanted to let her enjoy the rest of her day, and by now the twin moons had already risen from the horizon to bathe the city in a silver glow. The florescent signs that lined the streets flickered in multicolored splendor outside and strands of lights that lined the streets twinkled outside the shop.

Grogu was happily sitting on your counter with a bowl of stew clutched between his small hands, listening to you read aloud from the book of recipes that Din had brought you. There were so many recipes that you'd never heard of before, and by now you had a large list of ingredients written on a piece of paper beside the book you’d made. It meant another trip to the market, and you hoped that Din would go with you now that he was back in town.

"What do you think about stewed Jorgan berries with spiced egg-milk tart?" You muse aloud to Grogu who takes another sip from his bowl as you study the recipe written in neat script, running a fingertip down the list of ingredients. "I think that could be good." You continue, listening Grogu babble his answer. "Do you think Din would like it?"

The door at the front of your store opens, the happy jingle of the bell is familiar and welcome. You expected it to be Din, so you don’t bother looking up from the page. “Wow, Karga kept you a long time. What did he need?” 

But it's not Din that answers.

"Did you miss me sweet thing?" A voice hisses bringing a tremor of fear scuttling down your spine.

You raise your eyes from the book.

The Transdoshan dwarfs the front entrance of your shop, the lights of the street outside dramatizing the broad shoulders and imposing figure. It takes another step forward, mouth curling up in a snarl as it does.

One of it's eyes is completely swollen shut, the once white skin covering it an ugly blotchy purple, and it's lip is split, dripping purplish black blood onto the smooth wooden floors of your shop.

The color is familiar and you remember the flecks of liquid on the indention of Din's helmet from earlier.

Did Din do that?

The memory of how long Din was gone and how quick he was to follow the Transdoshan seemed to prove that.

He approaches the counter limping on his right leg as if putting weight on it is too much to bear.

"We're closed." You keep your voice from shaking. "Plus, I'm sold out."

Grogu coos softly, looking up at the creature that slinks forward, and you pick him up and move him out of harms way. The last thing you wanted was for Grogu to get hurt and if that meant putting yourself in between him and the creature that loomed over your counter so be it.

Why is he here? Why couldn't he have just slinked back to wherever the hell he came from?!

You'd thought that Din had made himself clear when he spoke to him earlier, but apparently this Transdoshan was more hard-headed than your favorite Mandalorian.

"Oh I'm not here for that." The one red eye glints with malice in the light, and before you can back up further, his hand flashes out across the counter and grabs your wrist, yanking you forward. "I'm here for something much sweeter."

You bite back a whimper.

Where is Din?

"You see, your Mandalorian disrespected me." The creature pulls you halfway across the counter, so close to him that you can feel his rancid breath against your face, the wood ledge presses painfully into your hip. "He wears all that fancy armor and I wasn't able to leave a mark on him. But you-" He raises his cold scaly hand to your cheek, dragging a claw down the arch of your cheekbone. "You were made for that." The claw bites into your skin following the subtle curve of your cheek.

The door behind him whips open so fast you imagine that it's been pulled off it's hinges. You can't see who it is, but all you know is that the creature is ripped away from you so suddenly that it almost pulls your arm off in the process.

You scramble backwards off the counter, holding your wrist to your chest, watching the scene unfold in front of you.

"Do you remember what I said I'd do to you if you ever touched her again?" Din's voice is a growl through the helmet, so different than the deep rumble you loved so much.

He has the Transdoshan pinned to the wall of the bakery, a silver knife pressed so hard against it's throat that blood blooms against the blade and drips down below the creature's collar.

“I don’t see your name written on her Mandalorian.” It spits back. “Perhaps she wants something more free range not someone locked up in a metal cage.”

Din's body tenses with the words and he growls out your name without looking away from the creature. "Take the kid into the kitchen. I don't want you to see this."

You do as he says without question, vanishing behind the curtain that separates the back and the front of the shop with Grogu clutched tightly against your chest.

He said you. He didn't say the kid.

The thought makes you remember how Din tried to distance you from when he spoke about his job, when you knew he was holding back details because he was afraid you wouldn't be his friend.

There's a sickening squelching sound, a muffled scream, and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, but you don't leave the kitchen. You hold Grogu tighter to your chest and squeeze your eyes shut as your stomach knots at the unpleasant noises coming from the front of your bakery.

Din walks through the curtain, the dark blood of the Transdoshan splashed over the front of his Beskar, his chest rising and falling with the exertion. His helmet tilts in your direction and you watch him hesitate to come towards you, as if he's afraid that you would run from him.

How can I when I know he did that to protect me?

Before Din can decide to come closer, you run to him, throwing your arms around his chest with the kid pressed between the two of you, and burying your face against the hard metal of his breastplate. Sobs shake your body as tears burn and slip from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks.

You were trying not to focus on what had almost happened to you, but all you could think about is what would have happened if Din didn't show up when he did. Outside at the market had been a public place, but here, alone in your bakery there would have been no one to hear you scream.

You shudder at the thought.

It was enough to shock Din out of his stupor. He hadn't moved since you'd collapsed against him, momentarily surprised, but now his muscular arms come up around you to hold you against him. The breastplate was cutting into your cheek, but you didn't care, not when Din was actually hugging you back. 

"Shh cyar'ika, it's alright." Din murmurs, his voice softer than it was moments ago as he moves his hand up and down your back while you cry harder and tighten your arms around him. "He's not going to hurt you again I swear it."

The three of you stand there for another few moments, with Din rubbing his hand up and down your back while you cry softly into his armor and Grogu coos softly and nuzzles his head into you as if trying to bring you comfort the way his father is.

Din pulls back from you. "You're bleeding." His voice deepens a little bit and you can feel the invisible trace of his eyes over your face.

“Huh?” You sniffle, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Come on.” He leads you back to sit down on the ottoman of the plush armchair in the corner, tilting your face upwards and brushing back the strands of your hair that have fallen into your eyes.

You could see your reflection in the shine of his helmet, eyes swollen and rimmed with fresh tears, and an ugly long scratch that ran the length of your cheekbone.

“Does it look bad?” You whisper.  You couldn’t feel any pain, you were still in shock, anxiety thrumming through your body, with the possibility of what almost happened.

“No.” Din almost growls it, his gloved hand tightening on your chin as he continues to examine your face.

Finally he sighs, releases your chin, and tries to take Grogu from you, but Grogu wriggles defiantly and cuddles further into you.

"Please don't take him." You whisper in a voice you don't recognize. It sounds more hollow and still holds a little shake as you sniffle again.

Din does as you ask and kneels down at your feet, sitting back on his heels as he begins to strip off his gloves.

You blink in surprise, holding back the urge to reach eagerly for his hands, wanting to see just a peek of the skin, wanting to reach out and touch the forbidden flesh that he hid beneath his armor.

He doesn't notice your interest, instead Din stays focused on the task at hand.

Din reaches into the bag slung around his shoulders to pull out a small medical kit, methodically taking out the gauze and sterile spray.

 His fingertips reach to brush against your jawline and you gasp softly, not because he is touching the scratch that the Transdoshan left behind, but because Din's skin is touching yours. The exact thing that you'd wanted for so long.

"Are you alright? Does it hurt?" He rumbles, mistaking your gasp for pain. You can hear the worry in his voice. It stirs something in your chest, knowing how much he cared about you.

"No, it doesn't, not really." You smile faintly despite the situation.

"I'm sorry." He sighs shaking his head. "I should have come sooner. I shouldn't have assumed he would leave you alone."

"This isn't your fault." You whisper. "I'm okay."

"You're not."

"Din, I'm right here in front of you-"

Din's hand touches your cheek again. "But you're hurt. You wouldn't have been if I had been here with you. I was stupid to think-"

You raise your hand to touch the metal of his helmet, directly over where you imagined his cheek would be if he wasn't wearing it, tilting his helmet so you're sure he's looking at you through the visor. Din freezes in surprise. "This is not your fault Din. Please don't blame yourself for this. How were you supposed to know? Karga needed you for-"

"I do not care what happens to Karga. You needed me more and I wasn't here-"

"You were here when it mattered." You whisper back with a soft smile. "And you're here now."

He shouldn't beat himself up for this, not when it's not his fault.

"But-"

"No." You breathe wishing that you could see his face, touch his cheek the way he was touching yours, not just the feeling of the cold metal of his helmet against your hand, but the warmth of his skin. You knew that it could bring more comfort to him than this. "We're not going to go there. We're not going to think about 'what if' because if we do that we'll be here all night."

He sighs again.

Your thumb gently rubs over the indention of his helmet wishing again that it was his cheekbone. "I worry about you too."

"You worry about me?" Din chuckles, but there's a trace of surprise in his voice. "Why?"

"I mean you-" You press your lips together in a tight line before you drop your eyes from his helmet, the heat of his gaze through the helm too much.  It didn't matter that you couldn't see Din's face, you knew he was looking at you, and although you welcomed it, sometimes it was too much, especially now when you were admitting something like this. "I know what you do Din." You say it slowly, noticing how he stiffens, but you continue. "And you were gone for so long that I was afraid you were hurt or worse."

The thought that Din would never come back, that you'd never see him come into your shop with Grogu ever again haunted you.

Din's hand slips down to your chin, tilting up your face to look at him again. "Please do not worry about me cyar'ika. I swear to you that no matter what happens, I will always come back to you."

You didn't need to see Din's face to imagine the determination in his eyes when he says it, you could hear it in his voice, stirring something in the pit of your stomach that sends your heart surging up in your chest. It was so brutally honest, his voice holding more emotion than you'd ever heard before.

He said "to you."

The thought makes a shy blush creep into your cheeks.

Din keeps his hand on your chin for another few seconds, his gaze locked on yours through the helmet studying you. He was waiting for you to look away, waiting for some hesitation in your eyes. Din was a master of reading people, it was a part of his job understanding what a simple twitch on the end of someone's lips or of the flicker of someone's eyes meant. Din was waiting to see fear flash in your eyes, but there's nothing. There's only you.

It was why Din had told you to go into the kitchen, he hadn't wanted you to see what he was going to do to the creature who dared touch you. And after he'd expected you to tell him to leave, that you didn't wish for him to be around you anymore, that he was a murderer and scared you. It was the reason why Din didn't want his life as a bounty hunter to tangle with yours, because he feared the moment you found out the kind of person he was, found out what he'd done, understood how many times his hands ran red with blood, you would run from him. But you hadn't,  you had run to him, hugged him, collapsed into his chest and fit there like you belonged while asking him to comfort you.

The sharp tang of the Transdoshan's blood fills your nose and you can see the purple stain against the breastplate of Din's armor like a shadow, a reminder of what he did.

And maybe another person would be frightened, but you can't be, not when you knew that Din did those things to keep you safe. He was your friend and there was no part of you that believed Din would ever hurt you.

"I'm going to hold you to that." You smile into the visor, still only seeing yourself, but for some reason you can tell that Din is smiling back. Call it some inkling in the back of your mind, or some kind of psychic connection, but you can feel his smile.

"I don't break my promises cyare." He says firmly, but he leans into your hand where it still clutches the left indention on his helm.

Din had called you that several times since that walk home from the Parent's Night, and each time you were just a little disappointed. You hoped that Din saw you as more than a friend, especially after he'd promised that he'd "always come back to you," but you supposed not.

"I believe you."

"Good."

Din pulls back from you slowly to begin cleaning your wound again.

"Din?"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?" You ask tentatively.

Din's rough fingertips work with a practiced methodical precision and deftness that you didn’t think he'd possess, gently cleaning your cheek. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I wasn't sure if you were hurt too."

Din chuckles as he applies a bandage to your face. "What did I say about you worrying about me?"

"I didn’t promise I wouldn't worry." You laugh. "I just wanted to ask because you were fighting him."

"I am fine. My armor was sufficient to block his attacks." He reassures you before lifting up your left wrist to examine the bruising handprint the Transdoshan left behind. Din lets out a sigh that sounds close to a growl. "He should not have been able to do this to you."

"Is it broken?"

It didn't feel broken to you, it just hurt a lot more than the scratch on your face.

I hope people don’t think Din did this to me.

The thought of Ms. Cross and the other parents at the school gossiping about the new bandage on your face and what people had seen today in the market made your blood boil. You didn't want to hear a rumor about how Din invited another bounty hunter to Nevarro and it was Din's fault you got hurt.

"No, but I wouldn't knead any bread for a few days."

"Does that mean I get to hire you as an extra set of hands in the kitchen?" You joke. "Because I can always make you that pink apron. And yours certainly seem big enough to handle some dough."

Din only shakes his head, but before you can stop yourself, you reach out to take his hands in yours.

He stiffens.

It feels forbidden, like something you shouldn’t be able to do and yet you can't stop. You gently trace your fingers over the rough callouses on his palms worn from hard work and notice small scars that interlace and curve over the back of his hands over the burnished bronze of his skin. You wanted to memorize each one, to listen to the warm rumble of Din’s voice and  know the story of how they came to be.

Din sighs.

It's not the heavy sigh of annoyance he has when Grogu does something wrong, or the growl of a sigh he just had when he dwelt on what the Transdoshan did to you, this is different. It's soft through the modulator of the helmet, it wisps through the air and straight into your heart.

Oh no maybe I did something wrong.

"I'm sorry I should have asked-" You try to pull back, afraid that you've offended him, but Din takes your hands in his. They're much larger, warm and solid, but he holds yours with a gentleness that would have surprised you if you hadn't seen the way he was with Grogu.

"It's alright." He says softly.

"It feels wrong."

"What?" Din asks, voice laced with humor.

"I never see any of your skin." You were sure that by now your cheeks must be almost blinding under thermal vision. It felt like all the blood in your entire body had rushed to them and made them shine like a beacon in the night. "You don't take the helmet off to say hello and you certainly don't take off your gloves."

Din says your name softly. "It’s okay for you to see my hands."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He laughs. "It's my face that you cannot see."

You chew the inside of your cheeks measuring your next question. It was the one question you’d had since you met Din, why he kept his helmet on when you knew other Mandalorians that did not. "Why?"

"This is the way." Din replies in a monotone as if reciting the phrase from memory.

That tells me absolutely nothing.

“You really wear it all the time?”

“Yes.”

“Even when you sleep?”

"Sometimes."

“It must be uncomfortable."

You couldn’t imagine waking up with your head in a helmet, you'd probably think you were suffocating. That or you’d think you went blind.

"I'm used to it." Din shrugs. "I've been wearing this since I was a boy."

“So since last week?” You say with a laugh squeezing his hands. You were trying to make light of the situation, given that you didn’t understand why Din wore his helmet and your brother did not.

Din chuckles, the warmth of his laugh making you feel like you’d sunk into a hot bath. His helmet is tilted down where you’re holding his hands in your own watching your fingertips trace over the scars that weave over his sun-kissed skin.

“But what if you-“ You stop the question before it comes out of your mouth.

Din’s head tilts up to look at your face. “What if I what?”

“Nothing, it’s too personal.”  You shake your head in embarrassment.

You didn't know what had made you almost blurt out the question 'what if you wanted to kiss someone?'

Well, you did know, because you wanted to kiss him, but you didn't know if Din saw you that way. Given the way he kept calling you "friend" in Mando'a you were sure of it.

“Please ask me Cyare.” Din gives your right hand an encouraging squeeze.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You cannot.” He says gently.

You swallow. “What if you wanted to kiss someone? You wouldn’t take off your helmet? And if you got married Din, you’d just never-“ You trail off, cringing at your questions. You weren’t about to open the can of worms that was asking Din about his sex life.

I should just shrivel up and die.

Din’s thumb deftly traces your bruised wrist in a soothing motion, taking his time before he answers. “There are other ways to kiss someone.”

“Oh.” You had no idea what that meant but you were still trying to not be so damn awkward because now you were imagining what it would be like to kiss Din. Not to mention the feeling of him holding your hands skin against skin felt so good it was making you transcend to another plane of existence. "Like what?"

His thumb stills.

"Please forget I asked that. You don't have to explain if you don't want to." You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment. You really really didn't want to make Din nervous, not when it felt like he was actually opening up to you. It was what you had wanted since the moment you met.

Din raises his hand to your cheek, his gaze locked on yours through the opaque visor. He clears his throat. "May I show you?"

For a moment you forget how to breathe.

"Yes." You squeak.

Oh holy glazed honey buns he's going to kiss me.

Din waits a moment, before he very gently pulls your head down to his and rests his forehead against yours. You gasp softly, feeling the cool metal of his helmet against the heated blush of your face, fogging around where it rests against your skin.

And before Din can pull away, you raise your hand to the left indenture of his helmet once more, mirroring his own hand on your cheek, tilting you head to look into the dark visor with a soft smile.

Din sighs.

It’s not the tired sigh he has whenever Grogu does something or whenever you give Grogu a treat, it's softer, the same sigh he had when you first touched his hands. You're under the impression that he didn't mean to do that, but you see the tension dissipate from his shoulders as he leans further into you waiting another few precious seconds before he pulls away and your hand falls from his cheek.

Din doesn't say anything for a moment and truthfully you couldn't think of anything either. There was a strange energy in the room between the two of you, a tension that wound tight around where Din was kneeling in front of you and you were sitting. You knew he was only demonstrating, but there was something about it that felt like more.

His head tilts down to look at your wrist again. "We should ice that." He says, voice huskier through the voice modulator than it was a few moments ago.

"Oh, I can-"

Grogu reaches out with his hand and touches the delicate skin of your left wrist, laying gently against the bruised flesh. Warmth blooms where his three fingers grasp your arm, wrapping and curling around the bones and muscle, weaving them back together. And you watch as the flesh takes on it's normal color before your very eyes.

Grogu sighs heavily and falls back into your lap in a daze.

"How did he do that?" You raise your wrist to your face to examine it closer, slowly rotating your hand and flexing your fingers in surprise.

You hadn’t been looking forward to using only one hand in the bakery, but you were willing to make do with what you had.

Din gently take Grogu from your lap to into his bag, who has begun to snore quietly.  "He's always been able to do that."

"Heal people?"

Din nods once, but doesn't embellish.

Worry begins to trickle in at the way Grogu seemed to crumple as if it took too much out of him to do that. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Yes. He just needs to sleep.

You look down at the creature resting in the pouch, his small head cuddling into the worn leather side of the bag.

Curious.

"Thank you Grogu." You whisper, gently stroking his ears while he slumbers. He stirs for a moment to babble something under his breath in his sleep, but quickly drifts off once more.

“He didn’t want to see you in pain.” Din says quietly. “I understand how he feels.”

Your heart thuds an extra beat when Din says that and it again reminds you of what Din had done for you today, how he'd protected you and put himself in harm's way to keep you safe.

Din stands from his position on the ground and holds out a hand to you. "I would like to walk you home, if that's not too much to ask."

"I'd like that Din, but I still have to clean up-" You wave a hand at the kitchen that still has dirty bowls and pans stacked in the sink. “I can’t leave the kitchen like this.”

"Let me." His helmet turns in the direction of the front of your shop to look over his shoulder. "There are some things in here that I need to take care of. And I'd like to make sure you get home safe."

The memory of the sounds you heard coming from the front when Din was dealing with the Transdoshan make you cringe in disgust. The thought of cleaning up what was left of him made your stomach tie itself in knots and the sour taste of bile rise in the back of your throat.

But you didn’t want to leave Din with all this mess.

“Are you sure?"

"Yes. I want you to get some rest."

Din gently leads you by the hand to the curtain partition that divides your kitchen from the front of the shop, but stops so suddenly you walk into his back.

He turns to look at you over his shoulder. "Close your eyes."

You do what he asks without hesitation and Din leads you through the shop and out the front door into the moonlit streets beyond.

The walk home is silent, but odder still is that Din has not released your hand since he led you through the tables and chairs at the front of your shop. He holds it gently, as if it's a beating heart.

But you weren't going to complain. The feeling of Din's bare skin against yours was giving you a pleasant buzz. The warm roughness of his palm surprisingly soothing. You didn't know how you were going to go back to feeling the leather of his gloves when all you wanted was this.

Not to mention that the streets were blessedly empty and there wasn't anyone watching Din and you together.

When you arrive at your door, Din says your name to catch your attention.

"Yes?" You ask.

He looks down at where his hand is still in yours as if he can't believe it. His thumb begins to trail over the back of your hand. "I didn't answer your question."

"My question?"

What question did I ask him?

Din hesitates again, unsure. "I can reveal my face to people in my clan. And if-" Din clears his throat. "If I were married, my wife would see me without my helmet."

"Oh, oh." You said eyes widening in surprise.

Frankly, you were shocked that Din was bringing this up again, but you weren't going to stop him. Not when Din was opening up to you again.

"We would be one. The other half of me." Din says this slowly. "My riduur."

“Riduur.” You murmur the word feeling the syllables roll off your tongue.

"Yes." He nods at your pronunciation of the word.

Your eyes trace the familiar lines of Din's helmet, again thinking what he would look like. It was something that you always did in the past, but now the idea that you wouldn't get to see him, stung just a little bit. It was difficult for you to imagine Din with someone else, to know that someone else got to see the soft side of Din that he only showed when you were with him, but you also knew that you would try your hardest to be happy for him if he ever took a wife. He was after all, your only friend on Nevarro and really your only friend beside your brother.

"She would be very lucky to be with you." You say looking up into the helm, a soft smile pulling on the end of your mouth as you give Din's hand an encouraging squeeze. "Just as I am lucky to have you as a friend."

Din's body goes stiff in surprise. It was the last thing that he was expecting you to say to him. In fact Din was afraid that he had said too much to you. Especially given that he was about to start courting you. The book he'd given you today would be the first in a series of gifts that he would bring back to prove his commitment and ability to provide, as had Din's statement that he would always come back to you and his remodeling of his home to make a bigger kitchen and more room for you if you were to accept him. Of course there was a part of Din that wasn't sure that you would accept him.

That was why Din hadn't told you what "cyare" really meant or tell you why he brought you the book. He thought that maybe easing you into it would be better.

Before Din can respond, you pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around him as tight as you can. "I know you keep saying that I don’t have to thank you, I do. You saved my life Din. Thank you."

Din's body curves up around yours holding you tightly against the hard cool metal of his armor. "You're welcome cyare."

Guide:

Cyar'ika: Sweetheart

Cyare: Beloved

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! If you'd liked to be added to my taglist for fics in this universe please let me know!

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[antianakin]

I think it's fair to say that Andor, despite having no Jedi in the show, makes the greatest argument as to why the Galaxy needs the Jedi! I mean, look what happened to Bix!

See, that's not really how I take it. Andor is hardly the first piece of media to show the Empire being completely awful and showcasing that they're a force that needs to be stopped. The first piece of media to do that was A New Hope when it literally showed them massacring an entire ship, burning down the Lars home, torturing Leia, and then blowing up an entire planet.

The message that Andor is trying to send is much more about COMMUNITY and solidarity and commitment to a cause greater than yourself as being the things that will truly save you from oppression.

The way I connect it to the Jedi is that THIS IS WHAT KILLED THEM. People DIDN'T have a sense of community and solidarity and commitment to something greater than themselves. They RELIED on the Jedi to solve all of their problems and if anything bad happened to them at all, then it was the Jedi's fault for not stopping it somehow, despite all of the many many reasons why the Jedi logistically could not stop every single ill in the galaxy.

Things like what happened to Bix were likely happening every day even during the Jedi's hey day. Plenty of planets likely had corrupt officials in their local governments, and obviously plenty of normal people are just bad people who have no issue with hurting others for their own gain or pleasure. The Jedi cannot and should not be expected to somehow be able to keep all of it from happening. The Jedi RELIED on regular people being willing to stand up to corruption and oppression and injustice themselves. The Jedi were intended to be an INSPIRATION to others to fight back against their own darkness and the darkness around them, not the end all and be all of the solution to darkness.

And THAT'S what allows the Empire to fall eventually. The Jedi were gone, so people finally had to stand up to darkness on their own. There was no one left to hide behind and shield them from the consequences of their own cowardice. And not only do they stand up, but they ultimately win because we see them standing BESIDE THE JEDI. In Rebels, it's all of the regular people in the Rebellion working with both Kanan and Ezra that takes down Thrawn and saves Lothal. In the Original Trilogy, it's Luke using the Force and working alongside the other Rebel pilots that destroys the first Death Star and saves the Rebellion from total destruction.

What's interesting to me about the situation on Mina-Rau is that we see the community around them get scared and uncertain, same as we did on Ferrix, and we aren't entirely certain how the shop owner is going to react when the stormtroopers finally show up, but instead of falling prey to his own fears and selfishness the way Timm did last season, he actually STANDS UP and helps Brasso and Bix and Wil as much as he can. He gets them a way to escape, he refuses to sell them out, despite whatever he may or may not feel about them as undocumented immigrants. And it's not enough, obviously, it doesn't save Brasso or Bix, but it's still important that he DID make that choice to help them when he didn't have to and it put himself and his own family at risk to do it.

And that's what's important here. It's not a message that this is why the galaxy needs the Jedi, but a message that this is why it's important to continue to stand up for each other, to protect the people in your community, regardless of how you might feel about their choices or their politics personally. Maybe it won't save everyone, but that doesn't make it less worth doing. It's important for everyone, even regular people, to ACT like the Jedi, to have that compassion towards others, because THAT'S what's going to save us in the end, THAT'S what's going to defeat the darkness.