#so i think this is probably the best idea

[beloveds-embrace]

(Based on the idea of having a sensitive nose in the omegaverse, poly 141 x reader)

The air in the meeting room was dense with overlapping scents: leather, citrus, gunpowder, faint traces of cigar smoke. It was suffocating. You had been doing your best to keep a neutral face, to not draw attention to the way your sensitive nose wrinkled every few seconds as the mingling aromas assaulted your senses.

You weren’t trying to be rude; it wasn’t anyone’s fault that their scents were this potent. It was just your lot in life to have a nose that picked up everything. And you were part of this stupid task force, which meant you were constantly surrounded by some of the most intense scents imaginable.

It was John who caught your reaction first. The alpha was sitting across the table, arms crossed, earthy, smoky scent rolling off him in waves. His cigar habit didn’t help matters; it clung to his clothes, his hair, his skin- every part of him. Your nose twitched involuntarily as another wave hit you, and his brow furrowed deeply.

“You alright there, love?” he asked, low and curious, though there was an edge to it.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied quickly, forcing a smile and trying to breathe through your mouth instead.

His sharp eyes stayed on you for a beat longer, and the corner of his mouth tugged downward. He didn’t believe you, but he let it slide.

Soap, however, wasn’t as subtle. He had been perched on the edge of his chair, citrusy, spicy scent practically bouncing off the walls. The man smelled like an explosion at an orange grove- sharp and tangy, with an undercurrent of something metallic that always made your head throb.

“Are you wrinklin’ your nose at me, lass?” He asked, accent thick, tone mock-wounded.

“No! No, not at all.” You stammered, shaking your head. God, what you wouldn’t sacrifice to leave this room…

“Looked like a bloody insult to me,” Johnny teased, though there was something almost earnest in his pout. “Dinnae think I smell that bad, eh? Gaz, back me up here!”

Gaz- bless him- was seated beside you. His scent was a calm balm in the storm: a light, fresh breeze with subtle hints of cedar. It didn’t overpower your senses. It was safe, grounding. You leaned ever so slightly in his direction, seeking refuge without realizing it.

“I think it’s just her nose being sensitive,” Kyle said smoothly, shooting you a kind look. He always seemed to know when you were struggling, always gave you a quiet out. “We probably smell stronger to her.”

“You mean Price and Johnny stink.” Ghost rumbled from his spot at the back of the room, scoffing in amusement.

You glanced at him, and, God, he really was no better. He was a mixture of John and Johnny- a heavy, musky scent tinged with smoke and gunpowder, like he’d been living in a war zone for years. It was hard to breathe when he was near, though his stoic demeanor meant he didn’t take it as personally as the others.

“Oi, I don’t stink!” Johnny protested. “I smell fresh, like citrus and energy.”

“Explosives aren’t energy.” Ghost deadpanned.

“You all smell fine,” you said, hasty and desperate, your voice thin and shaky. “I just have a… sensitive nose. That’s all.”

“You’ve been wrinkling it all bloody morning,” Price grumbled, arms crossing tighter. “If you don’t like something, just say it. We’re alphas; we can handle it.”

“I don’t dislike it!” you blurted. “It’s just… strong. All of you smell so strong, and my nose is a little… overwhelmed.”

Kyle chuckled softly, a sound that eased the tension in the room. “Can’t really blame her, can you? The three of you probably do smell like a bloody armory to her.”

Price frowned, clearly still annoyed, but Johnny looked contemplative, leaning toward you with a curious expression. “You’re not lying, are you? Your nose is just sensitive?”

“Very.” You admitted, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m not trying to insult you, I promise. It’s just… a lot.”

Johnny relaxed a little, though his pout remained. “Alright, lass. I suppose I can let you off the hook this time. But you should’ve said something earlier.”

“And deal with you taking it more personally than you already do? No, thank you.” you muttered under your breath.

Kyle snorted beside you, and you turned to him with a grateful smile. “You’re the only one who doesn’t make my nose hurt, by the way. Thanks for that.”

The other three bristled instantly.

“What?” Price barked, looking genuinely offended.

“Gaz doesn’t smell any less than we do.” Ghost growled, eyes narrowing beneath his balaclava, and Johnny threw his hands up in exasperation.

“She’s playing favorites, that’s what this is!”

“It’s not favoritism!” You said quickly, holding your hands up defensively. “He just smells calmer. It’s not as… intense.”

Kyle, smug but silent, leaned back in his chair with a knowing smirk. He didn’t say a word, but the satisfied glint in his eyes said it all: he’d won.

Of course, this only made the other three more competitive.

“Maybe you just need to get used to it.” Price suggested, peering at you.

“Aye,” Johnny added, grin wide and cheeky. “Maybe we need to stick closer to you so your nose can adjust.”

“Or maybe you all need to tone it down.” you shot back, though your voice lacked bite, and they just stared at you even more intently- even Ghost.

It was going to be a long day.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC x DP Fanfic: Family bonding.

The Waynes, for all of their proclamation of being some of the best detectives in the world, missed the signs that one of their own was dating. Usually, that wouldn't have been so shocking, except that the person who dating made a point to tell the group he was dating.

He also somehow always stayed friends with his exes. Which was a superpower of its own, if they are honest, because not a single one of them was bitter about the relationship ending with Dick.

Another thing unusual about Dick having a lover was that he never brought them around or was seen in public with them. If anything, it felt like Dick was trying to keep the relationship a secret.

Which went against everything he cared about when dating someone.

That's why Bruce fully believed that the secret was being enforced by his partner. So it was up to the Waynes to find out who this mysterious lover was and evaluate if they were good enough for Dick.

So on a Friday night, when Dick was allegedly tutoring underprivileged kids but was actually meeting up with his lover, the Waynes piled into a shabby-looking minivan and followed.

It was cramped. It was dented, and it had tinted windows. Most importantly, the minivan belonged to John Constantine, who hadn't used it in over twenty years after learning to portal from one place to another.

Dick would never realize it was them.

"I think this is a terrible idea," Jason grunts from the back seat. He crosses his arms, refusing to pick up the binoculars Tim had passed around earlier. "Dick is a fully grown man. He knows how to properly talk to his partner about what he wants in a relationship."

"Shut up, virgin," Damian hisses from the passenger seat. He won the right to sit there after breaking Steph's skin with his teeth. Bruce had allowed them to brawl for a few minutes until Damian emerged victorious. He also let her use his phone to schedule a rabies shot, keeping eye contact with Damian in the rearview mirror. "Just because you never had a girlfriend-"

"-or a boyfriend. You fail to seducing both." Cass cut in from around her binoculars. She fist-bumped Tim as Jason threw her an offended look.

"Thank you, Cassandra. Ultimately, you have no experience and thus can not comment on what to do in relationships." Damian concluded.

"Neither do you!"

"Yes, but I am a child." Damian waves his hand in Jason's general direction. "It's expected of me to not have any romantic experience. You, on the other hand, are a loser."

"Unless you are Asexual or Aromantic," Bruce pipes in, leaning a little against the steering wheel, attempting to get a better view of the apartment building that Dick had walked into. He wasn't going up to any of the actual units; he remained in the lobby. "Then you are the are not a loser. But rather the closest thing to godhood."

"B, we know gods."

"That's why I said closest."

Thankfully, the lobby had huge windows. Dick was speaking to the receptionist, leaning on the counter with a little smile, and the man was grinning back.

However, Dick hasn't touched his hair even once. This was not the secret lover. This was a fool falling for Dick's charms, probably someone involved with a crime.

Ugh, so dull.

Jason crossed his arms stubbornly "I can get a date. I'm just busy."

"Doing what? Reading romance novels?" Steph laughs. Jason opens his mouth to yell at her, but the receptionist hands Dick a golden key that the eldest Wayne pockets. He strides out of the apartment complex, hands in his pocket and whistling joyfully.

The Wayns put away their binoculars, and Bruce carefully peels out of their parking spot. They keep a nice distance away from Dick as he scrolls around the stores, stopping every once in a while to admire a display before he sits on a bench, hand still inside the pocket with the key.

A person wearing a trench coat and thick sunglasses approaches the bench, sitting on the far end of it and not looking in Dick's direction. The van collectively gasps.

Despite the disguise, they can tell just who it is.

"Tatior," Jason hisses between clenched teeth as Duke slides a sealed brown package across the bench towards Dick. In return, the eldest places the key on the bench, back top, and strives away from the bench. Duke waits a few minutes before he stands, walking in the opposite direction of Dick, hand sliding out to grab the key nearly undetectable.

"Why does Duke need an apartment key? And one that was snuck to him," Tim asks, watching the two siblings walk away from each other as though they were strangers. "What's he up to?"

" We only have time for one family mystery today," Bruce answers, turning the wheel to the left and continuing to follow Dick. "I have dinner plans with Selina later."

Duke pulls out a red wig and slides off his coat. Underneath is a punk rock outfit, complete with spikes, the coat he throws into the trash and clicks his boots. Four-inch heels pop out from his shoes, and Duke struts out of sight.

Tim leans against the windows, face and palms against the glass, eyes wide. "Wait. Wait. I have so many questions. B, turn around!"

"Dinner plans, Tim!"

"But B!"

Damian points. "Look! Richard is twirling his hair! The harlot draws near."

Steph laughs, patting Tim's back, who is straining hard to open the door. Thankfully, Bruce was quick enough to press the child lock. "I love the way you talk, Dames. It's like a period piece villain escaped the TV."

"Thank you, Brown. I enjoy your existence as well." Damian smiles, pressing the binoculars against his face. "Oh."

Bruce's grip on the wheel tightens. He had chosen to stay really far behind Dick once the man had walked into a narrow street, making it harder to blend into the traffic. "What is Damian?"

"You will not like it, Father," Damian says lowly. Behind him, Steph and Tim also reach for their spying gear. Jason and Cass were grimacing from the back seat, one taking pictures and the other working on getting the listening device's antenna out the crack of the window to aim at Dick.

Bruce's knuckles turn white as he steeled his resolve. "Go on. I can take it. What do you see?"

"It's Danny Fenton." Tim, Steph, and Damian all say at the same time. "The person he is dating in secret is Danny Fenton."

Bruce felt his heart stop. "The man who makes bread in the shape of hero logos?"

"Yeah. Otherwise known as "The Happy Baker," Steph says gravely. "The only Gothamite who is unreasonably happy without drugs or Joker venom."

"I once saw him making up songs while setting out a display of animal-shaped bread. He rhymed Gotham with awesome." Tim practically spits. "I should have known. All those animals were circus-themed. The elephants were incredibly tasty."

"You bought some!?"

"Excuse me for being hungry B!"

Damian slaps Bruce's arm aggressively. "Father! Father! Richard is getting on one knee."

"WHAT?!"

Jason pressed one hand over his headphones and attempted to listen closer before his eyes widened. "Wait! It's not a real marriage. Dick's investigating a possible trafficking ring, who been using Gotham baking supplies as a cover. He wants Danny to help him infiltrate the front by pretending to be baking husbands!"

"He just asked him to get married," Jason reported, much to the horror of the general van. Cass' camera starts clicking aggressively, either to capture the moment or have something to hang over Dick's head and force him to call off his marriage.

It's hard to tell with her perfectly impassive expression.

"Oh, thank the gods." Bruce breathes, only to have Steph ruin the moment.

"They're frenching right now."

"Oh, come on!"

"This is fun," Cass says over Bruce, swearing under his breath. "We should spy on each other as a group more often."

"Can we find out what Duke is up to next? The heels will haunt me until I know everything." Tim pipes up.

Damian, Tim, and Steph do not lower their binoculars even though they are close enough that they become a nuisance rather than helpful. He hasn't seen them so engaged in a family outing in a long time. "Yeah, we can spy on Duke next."

There is a moment of silence as Bruce considers the request before he merges lanes. In doing so, they drive by the kissing couple, too caught up in each other to notice the people staring at them through spying gear.

"You're the best adoptive dad ever!" Tim cheers as the rest of the kids let out whoops. Fenton's ears twitch, breaking the kiss with Dick to look right at them over their eldest shoulder.

Bruce slams a foot on the pedal the second Cass starts yelling, "Go go go! He saw us!". They peel away, screaming while Dick throws them a finger, and Fenton laughs silently.

The happy little freak.

[trashbagcommunist]

I have so many thoughts about this but I hesitate to put too much weight on them because they're anecdotal. I have had to work in education in a way that wasn't my choice. I think my favorite parts of the job were making copies and cleaning to be honest. I wasn't a teacher, but an aid basically. The times I did have to act in a role similar to a teacher, I really disliked. It's not the kind of work I like doing because I don't like being in front of people or talking. There were a lot of people in a similar position to me, who felt neutral at best about the job. I don't want to make any generalizations, but the people who were really passionate about it did seem like they had that fundemental desire to exercise power over vulnerable people. And they seemed to be offended that other people in our position were not as intense as them. I remember talking about feeling like there was way too much pressure on the students to do well in these class and it was natural that a lot of them just weren't intrested in the subjects, and one of the more passionate people working at my company got mad at that and said "They need to make their OWN fun" and overall didn't like the idea that someone should be understanding towards students who didn't care that much about something they weren't interested in.

Other people who felt similar to me got similar pushback of course. The managers of this company that supplied teachers aids to local schools mostly had been in our position in the past, and of course they also tended to be that 'type'. They frequently suggested that we should do things to 'engage' the kids that to me felt intrusive and pushy.

Anyway that's a long way to say that I would also really like to read a book about that. I can imagine that sort of things actually filters people who are probably better suited to those roles out in favor of controlling bullies.

with all due modesty this was a fucking banger of a text message for me to compose after 10 hours in the emergency room and 30 hours without sleep

[hischierjustscored]

accidentally yours.・゜・quinn hughes

summary: you barely remembered putting quinn as your emergency contact until he showed up like the universe's idea of a bad joke

a/n: this is my contribution for the winter fic exchange 2k25 by @wyattjohnston for @hanaaishi 🧡 i still owe you forever for being patient and bearing with me on this!! seriously i mean it!! thank you both for making me a part of another amazing exchange which was my first one ever but i'm so happy that i was!! it was such an experience for me diving into all this and hope i was able to do some justice on my part 🧡 i got too carried away smoothing the final edges, hence the delay again 🥺 i also changed the idea we talked about a little but i hope it's all good in the end 🧡

warnings: mentions of injuries (light concussion, ankle sprain), hospital, parents pressure, overthinking, scratchin on the surface???, and i trusted myself to do a reader insert so bear with me once more

word count: 5.5k

You remember when you were 8 and took your brother’s bike to try out his self-made wood ramps in the garden, only to fall 6ft from the side and drop straight onto your left hip. That day you found out that grass wasn’t nearly as cushy as it looked but it was your mother’s “told you so” you never forget, lingering in your ears from where you sat in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

You also remember your best friend Lia leaving you in charge of booking an Airbnb for your first trip to Austria together, and you were proud of that cozy little place you found nestled in a mountain valley. But the "cozy" and "European" charms you both imagined left you searching desperately for a hotel in the middle of the holiday season instead, and Lia didn't have to say the words. You could hear the "I told you so" for really trusting someone with the username wanderlustgirl98.

And you remember moving to Vancouver a year ago after your studies, taking up your former professor's advice to follow one of its renowned urban development programs and put your "big-picture" skills to work. He didn’t have to try hard to convince you. You’d already been thinking about it for a long time until it felt like your chance to finally prove yourself. Perhaps even more to your parents. A naive part in you hoped you'd fit into their expectations for once. But if you really did, you'd reach out more than just on birthdays and festivities, maybe even give in to that other more vulnerable part in you and tell them how over your head you've been lately or that, deep down, they were probably right about all of this being a huge leap you still weren't ready for.

And you can only imagine…

Told you so.

It long replaced the loud ringing and the whole new level of woozines you felt an hour ago on the bus, as you watched the nurse adjust the brace on your right ankle, all black and chunky.

You sighed heavily for the 5th time in under 2 minutes, because what did you do to deserve all this?

Oh right, maybe being a chronic people pleaser, staying late at work to set other people's shit right. Fixing last-minute deadlines, cleaning up mistakes that weren’t yours, saying yes when you wanted to say no.

But you couldn't help it.

"It shouldn't take more than 3-6 weeks to heal completly, your lucky it's just a moderate strain. Nothing that can't be fixed."

She looked up at you over the rim of her glasses, still perched hideously, before she slowly swiveled back to her desk.

"Can I still work in that thing?", you tried testing out the waters, bending your feet just a little, then more until you sucked in a sharp breath when the pain hit.

"Honey, what do you think this is?", she drawled follwed by a low chuckle as if she couldn't quiet believe this being your first question.

“It’s meant for the healing, you have to keep it still completely and not put any weight on it. And that includes not working."

The last straw keeping you grounded right now is that this could have been much worse.

From the moment the bus driver hit the brakes like in that one Harry Potter scene, your new plateau sneakers giving out on you and your head bracing the inevitable fall on some window. Your initial hope bubble of no one noticing quickly busted as people came to your side, but you brushed them off mumbling that you were fine through the worst cringe of unwanted attention. Until you tried to balance yourself, only to realize you couldn't, and straightening up nearly made you sick.

You shifted, bracing your palms against the mattress to find a more comfortable position, minus flaring your ankle up again. You’d been in this bed for too long, it was driving you crazy.

"But how am I supposed to do that? Other than floating maybe..."

The mocking arch of her brows made the wrinkles on her forehood stand out more, but you couldn't care less, it was the pure frustration blurting out of you at this point you weren't even kidding about the last part. The last thing you needed on your mind was your boss' face to your sick call tomorrow morning. Not with the mayor visiting your office in 2 days, waiting to hear your thoughts on improving Vancouver's climate neutrality through sustainable architecture. And what you’ve worked tirelessly on, perfecting every detail from start to finish.

And you thought if all of this is some sort of reverse karma. Only for being hardworking. Is that a thing?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the shuffling in the room until she came back with something that, if any shred of humor was left inside you, you would've laughed at. But instead, you just slumped back against the headrest, the wave of déjà vu taking you back to when you were 8 looking between the crutches in her hand.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

"I think you will be good with these", she offered, leaning them against your bed within reach, "maybe if you try hard enough you will actually float."

Her chumy tone you still couldn't quite feel yet, had your eyes roll back in an instant before closing them, grumbling to yourself, "Just great, really, really, great", but it was a mistake once you did as you fought off the urge to drift off completly.

A piece of mind for the first time in hours. Maybe for the first time in forever even.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

After the biggest "told you so" that was bound to happen eventually. 2 months from now or more, or perhaps between his work, your work, balancing on a life that went past deadlines and demands, between 2 people who have their own reasons to prove themselves to everything around them, you slipped out of each other’s reach.

But it’s not like there was ever an official you two.

It was just the version of the story you always liked best.

“Here you go, I was able to find one in the random stash we keep in our break room, but it should work though," a voice light and sweet snapped your attention back faster or not fast enough, you didn't know, blinking against the lights now.

For a second, you felt like you were back on the bus with the dizziness and nausea creeping in again.

But no. Just him. It was just the thought of Quinn.

Your weighted gaze shifted to the bubbly blonde next to you, then down to your forearm where she lightly nudged a charger against it, and you suddenly remembered how determined she was to get it for you when you realized your phone powered down.

You couldn’t even text Lia back in time, knowing you were already too late for the rare occassions of missing your daily Facetime calls, with her still being back home in Seattle. Not in a trillion years you expected to feel this way about her, but right now you're glad she is.

Because if she she'd see you like this, she'd already know the answers without you giving it to her, that you take on more than your chronic people pleasing heart could handle sometimes.

And he'd always know too. When to snap you out of it, when to just exist beside you with no words. He'd never have to ask.

"Oh yeah, thank you", you forced out in the most put-together tone you could pull off right now, hoping our smile was convincing enough to distract her from the way your clammy palms were rubbing against the mattress, or the rapid thumping of your heart that you’d see too on your chest if you dared to look down again.

"Just enough to call a Uber and you can take it back."

She gave you a simple half-shrug, taking your phone from your outstretched hand, "It's stuff patients leave behind soo..", and plugged it in for you. But before you could brush her answer off again, the low calling of your last name made you snap to a tall man in the doorway, and his two long strides toward you could either mean more bad or good news.

You held your breath as you listened to him in silence going over your completly normal labs and scans which only told you everyone was making a bigger deal out of this anyway. You were fine, biting the inside of your cheeks reluctantly when he added they'd be filling out a sick report too.

"-though we would like to monitor you here for a night just in case you develop more symptoms that can’t be ruled out from the hit, and given that you already experienced dizziness and nausea-"

No person or force on this earth could make you stay here for one minute longer.

You released your cheeks with a click of your tongue, cutting him off quickly, "Uhhh that's not necessary, I mean I feel way better now and you just said it too didn't you?", which finally made him look up from whatever, clearly taken aback, his suprise mirrowing your own for a different reason.

Plus, you knew your rights. They couldn't keep you hostage here, you were ready to remind him of their own policy.

"I'm glad you do, we just want to make sure that-"

But you barely registered his next words, lost beneath the familiar sound of your phone finally wrapping up in your hands, and you were as happy as a little kid seconds away from unwrapping the biggest gift under the Christmas as tree, just, it didn't ask you to press your thumb down to unlock it as it normally would but...

"Damn it."

The one time your phone decides to ask for your SIM card code, and you’re completely blank.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

Yes, you really believed now, you did everything wrong tonight and this was the real karma of it all.

Your thumbs brushed the screen, trying to remember 4 digits like your life depended on it with the only 3 attempts you had.

The day you bought it you scribbled it down, along with the backup code (of course), and put it on your fridge because your memory rivaled that of a goldfish sometimes.

Was it 5678 or 5679?, and you heart dropped as deep as the Marianna Trench when it said only 1 attempt left.

"...and with how things are right now, we wouldn't encourage you to leave on your own. Do you have someone you can call right now to pick you up? Someone safe?"

Was he still talking to you?

"Huh? What?", the phone nearly slid from your grip, your palms starting to clam up again, and he lowered his clipboard studying you with an expression you weren't sure you had the energy to fully read, but it felt too damn close to pity.

"Or anyone we could call...?"

Quinn knew now that he could only trust Jack when it comes to discussing goodreads.com reader's favorites, ideas for lake house interior, and shooting pucks.

Not with anything close to dating. Or helping him out with that.

He was doing just fine. Thank you very much, but he knew Jack. Too much for his own good sometimes.

"Why do you act like you don't want it when you actually do. You need this. Get out of your head.

Sitting in this Italian restaurant that was a little too crowded for it being a secret "gem" as Jack said suggesting it to him, and he didn't even live here, listening to his date "soul-searching" trip to Bali was far from want and need.

He checked her Instagram highlights before, clicking on her profile Jack DM'd him. A friend of a friend. If overpriced veggie bowls and infinity pool thirst traps were anything soul-searching she's deluding both of them, and so was his thinking that maybe he should give this a shot. Getting out his head like Jack said with the season already hitting him with flashbacks he wanted to forget fot the sake of his sanity, and keeping away from anything that kept him running on autopilot.

"It just put everything into perspective", she said, her voice pulling him back just enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about.

And he knew the moment he looked up from stirring the ice in his water with his straw for the past 5 minutes, there wouldn't be damn thing he'd remember about her either. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The kind she knew and had probably been told her whole life, she didn't have to try too hard.

He preffered not trying at all. It was his favorite.

Probably ever since you took his drink at the coffee shop one day, the place too crowded for names to be called, just cups sliding across the counter and you didn't even look down at his name scribbled on the side in Sharpie when you slipped past him on the way out, not bothered to notice him eiter. The moment he should've said something, tap your shoulder, say anything when he just kept watching you move outside, tilting your head at street signs like they weren’t second nature yet, checking your phone every few seconds like you had somewhere important to be. Grabbing the wrong coffee without a second glance wasn’t his only hunch that you weren’t from here. Then, the sip. Too strong. Wholebean. Definitely not yours.

You turned back, ready to go back inside, but he already had yours in his hands on his way out to you when they started calling out names again, and no one responded to except for him.

A moment, A pause, your cold fingers brushing against his warm ones, or when you laughed at your mistake all crinkly around your eyes, perharps for the first time in a while that day, that should have been it, but wasn't, because between all of it you just became a part of his routine.

“…And then, on the third day, we did this sunrise meditation hike just me and a few people from the retreat, barefoot, totally disconnected, away from everything."

She kept going, oblivious to the way his focus had disconnected, his mind already elsewhere, lost in the memory of the last time he wanted to get away from everything, and the cushion underneath him slid akwardly when he shifted in his seat.

I wasn't about overpriced veggie bowls or infinity pools. But his favorite place in Michigan. Always.

And he wanted to take you there.

It had been a vague idea, one that had come up in the quiet moments in betweeen road trips and late-night talks at his place that were too deep and glances that lingered too long to mean anything less than what he had already convinced himself was true about you. The same feeling hit him when you gave him that slight curve of your lips, the one that always told him you had him figured out when when he told you about the days being slow and the nights nothing but still stars at the lake house.

"Hmm, that's not true stars are moving constantly, we just don't see it."

He laughed, quiet but warm,"Can you at least pretend to fall for it?" just to get stuck in his throat.

"It never is with you."

"What?"

"Pretending."

It never was with you either.

But it never became anything more than vague. Because there was always something else. Texts left on read for too long, you and your own world to keep up with just as much as he did with travel schedules that blurred weeks into months, not leaving room for things he didn't know how to hold onto. Or someone who didn't know either.

A low buzz from behind, easy to miss if it hadn’t lingered just long enough to jolt him back before he knows. He shifted again, and even though this was only ever one-sided, a genuine "Really sorry, I will turn it off" left his lips as he gawkly reached for his jacket over the backrest.

He hadn’t meant to look, a habit more than anything. But then his thumb hesitated mid-air, double-taking the number.

Unknown. Vancouver area code. Probably nothing. Probably something.

But always a red flag, especially for someone in his industry.

"Thought you were turning it off?", she mused, tipping her wine glasss to her lips, watching him over the rim and he forced a quick exhale, "Yeah, I-", but he didn't have a real answer with the buzzing still alive in his hand.

And he should've turned it off, ignore it, and sit through the night rest of the night pretending like he hadn't already made up his mind about this whole thing.

You need this.

But Jack was wrong.

He wasn't even sure what "this" was even supposed to be. Whatever, it never felt right since the start.

His phone buzzed again with the same caller, but now he thought about it being a perfect timing.

"I gotta take this...", he mumbled, barely shooting her a glance, and he swiped right before his mind could really caught up with it.

"Hello?"

A breath, a pause, nothing good he thinks already but he used it to press his index finger to his ear to drown out the noise, shifing again.

"Uhm, yeah, hello it's Vancouver General Hospital am I speaking to Quinn H?"

Well this was new.

"Depends, who is this?", ignoring the "H" making it sound like a witness protection program name. Not that he planned on correcting them. Or rather, a nurse as she introduced herself, surprisingly professional, enough to raise his interest and, slowly, his concerns too.

"Sir, we have your sister here, she was brought in with a mild concussion and a sprained ankle some hours ago. But don't worry, she is totally fine, she just needs someone to pick her up which is why we're calling."

His brows snapped together, head jerking back to the slightest bit like his brain needed an extra second to process.

"My what? Excuse me?"

Last time he checked it was Jack and Luke. Their parents would never screw them over like that, no way the would forget an entire human being for twenty-something years. Right? Not even back when they first sat him down to tell him he’d be a big brother, and his two-year-old self, without hesitation, decided he wanted a sister. But by the time Luke came, he was bound to live with brothers. He wouldn't change that for the world now.

So when the nurse repeated the words that his sister listed him as her emergency contact Quinn could only stare blankly ahead, "Yeah, I still think you've got the wrong number..."

She is wasting her time on a call when this girl was really waiting to be picked up, and he was just about to put it in terms she’d finally grasp, until-

You.

The noise around him, muffled laughter and the hum of conversation, the restless tapping of manicured nails against the table cloth across him, faded into nothing. And if with his thoughts already going from 0 to 100, this is his breaking point.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, but his voice came out strained, throat too dry, "Come again?"

Of all the names, hitting his ears after all these months but thought more of than he'd ever admit. The name he'd seen on his screen too many times, resisting the urge to check, to ask, to do something.

Everything dropped, turned over, a slow ache pressing against his ribs, too overwhelming and far too familiar.

But his body moved before his mind could catch up, momentum taking over. Someone said his name. Maybe, he couldn't care less. Something about a drink next, about sitting back down, but he ignored it again.

Because you were still ringing in his head, louder than it had in months.

And he wasn’t about to ignore it now.

"He said he's already on his way, shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes"

It made your brows furrow in confusion, "He's in the area?", but you said it more to yourself than to her, not that she heard it either in the crowded waiting room you were sitting in now, your ankle on a cushioned chair they'd given you.

Turns out you had listed an emergency contact the last time you were here, one you didn’t even remember leaving behind. Apparently, hospital policy included holding onto records long enough to make you wait nearly an hour, because the name they had on file was your brother. And, of course, he was on a business trip in Abbotsford, 1 hour away. The only reasonable choice to put down when they’d asked back then. Then again, you barely remembered.

Except for the fact that it was your first public unveiling of a project you led. You had invited your parents, that small, hopeful part of you giving in, calling them, telling them you’d be happy if they came. You were almost surprised by their promising tone, as if, finally, they’d understand this wasn’t just about concepts and sketches but about your dream.

But they didn’t come, texting out of everything, with an excuse that felt too made up. And hours ago, when your stomach had already sunk from scanning the crowd for them every time a new group arrived, it sank further. This time with the mix of one bad shrimp and something stronger you’d used to numb the disappointment.

How could you forget when you really really wanted to.

"Is you brother like...famous or something, because your records were pretty mysterious."

You looked up to the same bubbly blonde nurse, still standing in front of you with her lips pressed together,

"I think we're close enough he'd care to tell me or I would've found out sooner or later, but no, sorry to dissapoint you or anything", you corrected, hoping that was enough while you were already done processing the absurdity of it all. You slumped against the rigid backrest, sighinh as the exhaustion crept in again, but rest was the last thing anyone was willing to grant you right now.

“Your record,” she rambled on, not getting the memo, "it was… kinda mysterious.”

One eye popped open, then another when you saw her crossing her arms now. This conversation slowly glided out of your hands, you just leaned forward, jerking your head to the side, silently urging her to make sense of whatever this was.

"Your record just said Quinn H. and nothing more. I had to call him Mr. H. the whole time, but I figured he prefers this kind of privacy and that's what you want for him too. He didn't tell me his last name though, so like I said, all mysterious."

Your fingers now hoved near the cushioned stool, reaching for your calf to lift it off with more force than you should've and the sting was instant. But it was nothing compared to the irritation climbing its way up your throat where your heart already pounded in it.

Because not your brother was about to walk through that door. The person who should've been here.

No.

It will be Quinn Hughes.

And suddenly you were mid-fall again, right there on the bus, every last bit of control slipping past your grip. Nothing you could do.

Because drunk you put him down as your emergency contact that time. The one you barely remember.

"Wait, no", a breath left you, unsteady, "Call him again and tell him it's a big fucking mistake", your hands twitched in flight mode as you darted between her and the sliding doors open-mouthed, cause you remembered her saying he was only 10 minutes away. 5 even, if you're unlucky.

The same Quinn you stopped talking too, who if you looked into his eyes again, the same on that always made you wonder, if they could get any darker, any greener, would he notice?

That you mever meant for things to be this way? That it wasn't him, not really but your own mind, the way this new life kept pulling at you, and how you wanted to reach out when things calmed down. When you had space. When you could be the version of yourself that he deserved.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Maybe he thought you didn't care. It was only fair, but it didn't loosen the knot in your chest, nor how you blinked away the sting in your eyes that you told yourself was from the stuffy air with too many people breathing in here.

Because you did. You always did.

"Hey sis."

And in that instant, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, how else could you explain the way your lungs refused to function, as if they’d forgotten how, when you snapped your head to where he stood now inches away. How long?

His navy blue shirt was barely visible under his coat, his hair grown out just enough for the ends to curl, for it to peek out from the beanie he held in his hand, looking too good even with his hair tousled still like he'd always did asking you if he looks okay, what you could see him doing in whatever thing you interruped him in before he got here,

It pressed in too heavy, you had to cut through it.

"Why are you here?"

"What happ-"

You barely felt the ache in your ankle over the blood rushing in your ears when you shifted your weight standing now, his gaze dropping to the crutches you stood up without, your brace, the subtle wince you thought you hid. And it was fucking with your heart that he wasn't just looking at you, but like he was piecing something back together.

He parted his lips, but his eyes flicked past yours first, toward the nurse behind you, when his fingers around his beanie, "You were brought in here", he hesistated, "Needed someone to pick you up."

That was the objective, something everyone would've done perhaps if they received such call, being a good or person, or the simple fact that he was your emergency contact.

You needed the subjective.

You huffed, shaking your head, "This is not what I meant. You could have said no."

"I didn't."

"You should have."

The words sounded sharper on your tongue than you wanted them to be, and you didn't know what hurt more, the way his expression barely shifted like he'd expected to be shut down again, because you were getting so good at it, or how your insides churned 360 degrees of how much you already regretted them.

"What do you want me to say? You're the one who put my name down I didn't even knew until now or let you bolt out of here with an concussion like they told me?"

Bolted. Floated. Whatever to get out of here finally.

"Well, neither was I, and I'm fine", you muttered fixing you gaze on the sterile floor instead, on anything but the way how he was fixing you, "but let's just drop it to the part where you go back to whatever you had going on before coming here I guess and me saying sorry for it."

The bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Only when the dull ache flared up in your good ankle did you realize you’d been standing without your crutches all this time. and before you even thought to reach for your crutches, he was already moving. Anticipating. The moment your balance gave out on you, he was already there, steady hands at your elbow and bicep, grounding you before gravity could do worse, and your pulse skipped how easy it was to sink into it.

His breath hitched, and so did yours, the warmth of his touch pooling through your fabric like you swallowed an ember, and his eyes, god his eyes, the darkest green, you don't even have to look up to be convinced about it again, all on you, as he murmured, barely a whisper.

"Don't be sorry, because it didn't mean anything."

Sitting in his car with the seat warmer already on like he remembered how easily cold you can get, watching as he pulled up your adress from his "saved", it fucked with your heart all over again.

You should have protested, insisting you were fine enough to make it out on your own, scoffing when the nurse told Quinn, not you, that you needed monitoring, just in case.

But exhaustion had already settled too deep in your bones, that you were almost thankful for the silence settling between you since he helped walking you out and insisted to drive you home at least.

Almost.

You would’ve been the biggest fool alive if you let this slip again, like you always did, like you always regretted.

"I am sorry though."

"And I told you not to be."

The darkness in his eyes gave way to the streetlights flickering through them as you turned to face him, "You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be sorry for, Hughes", you jested and Quinn huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head lightly. The soft glow from outside looked too good on him when you stopped at a right light, you swallowed hard, "What kind of brother would I be too?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, stop. I didn’t even mean to put you down as my contact."

"Keep it, I don't mind."

"You say that like you wouldn’t have blocked my number by now if you had the chance."

Quinn smirked, tilting his head against the headrest, his eyes flickering toward you. "Would’ve done it already if I wanted to."

Then, before either of you could think too much about it, his hand reached out, his pinky brushing against yours on the center console, like testing the waters, like answering more questions without words. It was enough.

He squeezed your hand once.

You squeezed back. An answer.

[thehighladywrites]

you’re just like me

pairing: cassian x crazy stalker reader

summary: cassian thinks of you as his insanely obsessive ex girlfriend who’s downright crazy. you are obviously cassian’s one true love and will eliminate anything that stands in your way.

warnings: murder, dark romance, cheeky little twist👀, stalking, obsessive behavior, sexual content, knives, nasty sex, um also a sick way of getting off just downright crazy, description of murder… um this is just kinda dark. two psychos encouraging each other

amara’s note: so i might be making this into a series bc i have an amazing idea for azriel next😫😫😫 also guys this was a lil dark lol

You couldn’t understand how Cassian had the nerve to walk away from you. There was absolutely nothing wrong with you, not one single thing. People just didn’t get it; love was supposed to be all-consuming, right? Obsession wasn’t a flaw. It was just proof you cared deeply. So what if you knew his schedule down to the minute, memorized the exact scent of his shampoo, or followed him everywhere he went like your very existence depended on it? That wasn’t weird, it was love. Real, burning, raw love.

Cassian must have been confused, that’s all. Poor thing, probably led astray by some outside influence. Maybe someone whispered lies into his ear or cast some strange spell over his mind. Yeah, that had to be it, because Cassian did love you. He did. He just needed to wake up and realize it again.

And when he did , he’d thank you for never letting go, for being the one person who truly saw him, who loved him without limits.

Seeing Cassian sitting next to some water-wraith makes your heart pound harder and harder, fury bubbling under your skin. That’s it — that’s why he hasn’t been his usual self. That wretched wraith is manipulating him, filling his head with filthy lies about you. Poisoning what was meant to be perfect.

You have to stop this. You have to save him. And the only way to do that is to get rid of her. Permanently.

Your hands itch for action, and you’re already stepping forward when a hand clamps around your wrist.

“Are you about to go over to Cassian?” Feyre’s calm voice cuts through your haze of rage. “Don’t cause a scene.”

You tilt your head, offering her a polite smile. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m simply going to claim what is rightfully mine.”

You tug at her grip, but it holds firm. Feyre’s eyes narrow. “Not so fast. You know Cassian will think you’re crazy if you kill her right here and now.”

Your breath catches. How the hell did she know? Were you that obvious?

Before you can respond, she steps closer, her intoxicating perfume filling your senses. Her voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine.

“If you want that little whore gone, gut her like a fucking fish. I’ll even help you. But not now, it’ll look bad for us.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Never in a million years would you have expected Feyre to suggest murder.

“Why are you so interested in me killing her?” you ask, voice curious.

A wicked smile curls at her lips before she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “That little bitch tried to fuck Rhys right in front of me. Didn’t even bother pretending she didn’t know who I was. She didn’t care. And now I want her gone.”

Her voice cracks with a manic edge before she smooths it over, composure snapping neatly back into place.

She was just like you, a comfort you took pleasure in, someone who understood that love was meant to be fierce, consuming, and without limits.

—

You did exactly what Feyre suggested — waited until the big meeting with all the courts had ended, biding your time until the wraith was on her way back to Spring. She was alone, vulnerable, just as you had hoped.

Before she could winnow away, you struck. Kidnapping her had been easy, far too easy. And then came the best part: stabbing her over and over until you were drenched in her warm blood. Her look of terror sent a sick thrill down your spine, flipping your stomach in delight. Fuck, it felt good to finally get rid of her. Like being on edge for an eternity and finally getting the sweet, blissful relief you'd craved.

You cleaned up meticulously, disposing of every shred of evidence. No one would ever find her.

Winnowing back to Velaris, you appeared just outside Cassian’s house, dagger still in hand. Breaking in through your usual route was second nature by now. You settled yourself on his sofa, waiting patiently like you always did when he needed a gentle reminder of who truly belonged to him.

The door creaked open, and Cassian trudged inside, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. Normally, you'd feel a pang of sympathy for how hard he worked — how much he gave of himself. But not tonight. Tonight, you were kinda pissed.

His eyes flicked toward you, squinting in the dim light. He hesitated, unsure of who he was looking at until he flipped the lights on.

The color drained from his face as he stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock. “What the hell?” His voice wavered. “What are you doing here?”

You tilted your head, offering a sweet, unwavering smile. “Hi, Cassian. Done being a manwhore? Ready to come back to your senses?”

His gaze darted to the blood soaking your clothes, the gleaming dagger in your hand. He shook his head in disbelief, taking another step back, as if distance could protect him from you.

“I said, what are you doing here?” His voice hardens, sharp and commanding.

Yours matches his, cold and steady. “Well, since you seem to be under some delusion that you can get away from me, I figured I’d burst your little bubble and remind you that’s not the case.”

A calm smile spreads across your lips as you lift the dagger, pointing it directly at him. The weight of it feels right in your hand, steady and sure.

Cassian’s chest rises and falls as tension coils through the room. “You’re insane,” he mutters, disbelief lacing every word.

“Call it what you want. Call it love, call it obsession. Call me fucking insane,” you say, taking a slow step forward. “But you belong to me, Cassian. Always have. Always will.”

You shake your head and laugh, a hollow, unsettling sound. “Gods, Cassian. I don't know why you're doing this to me. Stop being so damn difficult and realize there's no one else for you. That water-wraith slut sure knows it now.”

His face goes pale, a hand pressing against his chest. “W-what are you talking about? You... you killed her?” he asks, horrified.

“Sure did.” You smile sweetly, tilting your head. “And I'll end anyone you think can take my place. Am I clear? Either you realize it now, or I keep killing people. It's all up to you.” You shrug nonchalantly, inspecting your nails as if this conversation were about the weather.

There's a long silence, thick with tension, and then something changes.

His voice drops, lower and rougher. “Took you long enough.”

Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing in confusion. His pale, horrified expression has melted away, replaced by something darker, more primal. His eyes gleam with something unholy, and his mouth twists into a cruel, wicked smile.

“Was wondering when you’d kill that little wraith,” he says smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. “Gods know it was hard feigning interest.”

A warmth spreads through your chest, almost dizzying. Was this a dream? No way. Cassian matching your intensity, your madness — that was only supposed to happen in fantasies.

“What?” you whisper, barely believing what you’re hearing.

He steps closer, eyes gleaming darkly. “Didn’t think I noticed your stalking? Or the way you conveniently disposed of anyone I talked to?” His smirk widens, sharp and dangerous. “The way you just happened to show up at places I had scheduled? I’ve been onto you since day one.”

Your breath catches, heart thundering. “And?”

“And I knew you were the one the day you snuck into my room and stared at me, thinking I didn’t know,” he murmurs, eyes burning into yours with dark satisfaction.

A shiver runs down your spine, both thrilled and unhinged by his words. “You knew?”

He leans in closer, voice low and possessive. “Of course I knew. Your heavy breathing was a dead giveaway, sweetheart. You looked like you were seconds away from crawling into bed with me.”

You grin, eyes gleaming with madness. “I almost did.”

And it was true. He had been shirtless, skin smooth and golden in the moonlight, hair tied back so his sharp, handsome features were perfectly highlighted. Only years of discipline had kept you rooted to the spot instead of crawling into bed with him like you’d wanted to.

His smile deepens, dark and taunting. “You should’ve.” He steps closer, voice dropping to a low, sinful whisper. “Not the Gods themselves could have pulled me away.”

Your pulse races, wild and electric. This was so not fucking happening. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not tempting you, my love.” he says, eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “I’m inviting you.”

He looks down at you, hands settling on your hips as he pulls you so close. Cassian’s heat makes your brain go fuzzy and for a moment you’re lost. Just as he is about to kiss you…

”Wait. So you felt the same I did? Why did you act all high and mighty when you’re literally worse than me?” You step back and raise an eyebrow at him, arms crossed over your chest.

Cassian blinks, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst, but instead of guilt or surprise softening his expression, something darker gleams in his eyes — intrigue, even delight. “You’re mad at me, baby?”

“Of course I’m mad!” you snap, practically vibrating with frustration. “You knew I’m bsessed with you, and instead of saying anything, you just sat there, playing with me, making me feel insane.”

Your grip on the dagger tightens in pure frustration. “Do you know how many nights I spent plotting ways to keep you? How much blood I spilled thinking you didn’t care?”

His lips twitch, eyes filled with dark amusement.

“You could’ve just matched my crazy from day one, but nooo, you had to be all stoic and mysterious. Gods, Cassian, that’s infuriating.”

He steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re adorable when you’re pissed off, ya know? A cute, hotheaded little thing.”

“Adorable? I should stab you,” you snarl, but he only grins wider.

“Do it,” he whispers, his voice dripping with challenge. “I’d love to see what happens next.”

Your breath catches, heart racing as his words sink in. Cassian wasn’t just tolerating your madness, he wanted it, thrived on it, matched it beat for beat.

The realization sends a dizzy thrill through you, but you pout anyway, refusing to let him off the hook that easily. “You’re the worst,” you grumble, turning your head away with a dramatic huff.

He chuckles darkly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “I was only interesed in seeing how far you’d go. Didn’t know if you’d run for the hills when I told you I murdered Helion’s advicer for looking at you yesterday.”

Your heart skips a beat, then thunders wildly in your chest. A sharp, wicked grin tugs at your lips despite yourself. “You did that?”

“Snapped his neck right before breakfast. Or did I feed him his own fingers then strangle him with his insides? Can’t say I remember.”

A sick thrill courses through you. Man, he was fucking perfect. It was so fucking wrong but your knees went weak and you started throbbing. He killed someone just for staring at you?

That was actually hot.

—

With no surprise, cassian fucked you for so long, so hard so fucking deep. It was so nasty, a reaaaal mess. one hand of his grabs onto your thigh, another gripping your waist while he’s glancing down at your sloppy cunt, what a masterpiece. Cassian decided he needed to see better so he pulled out as you whimpered pathetically.

his fingers smear his oozing cum all over you, from the slit all the way to your, swollen, throbbing clit.

“look at you makin’ a damn mess.” Your shaky hands gripping his wide shoulders start to slip. His arm tightens around your waist before you fall backwards. “fuckkkk, baby, look at how good your pussy was takin’ me, see how fucking wet she is?” you shudder as his fingers go knuckle deep into your cunt, giving you a few pumps before he pulls it right out, stringy wetness coating them.

he places two thick fingers inside of your mouth, you suck them clean whilst still moving against him, silently pleading for him to fill you out.

“shiiit, not fair. you got these killer hips that’ll dumb down any man.” Cassian finally fills you up again, his fat cock gliding against ypur wall just right. “oh-fuckkkk thaaat’s it, slow baby. slow, fuck me good, yeah?”

Cassian’s breath hitches as you tighten around him, his arm hurling behind the headboard. the desperation of having something to hold on to gives you an ego boost. was your just pussy too damn good?

“c-cas,” you moan, feeling his big fingers stroke their way against your waist to the very undersides of your thighs. you made sure to go slow, slow and steady just like he wanted. cassian’s got a sleazy grin, feeling the wetness of your cunt take him with all its might. “g-gonna cum!”

“i can tell, ah shit— you’re squeezin’ the fuck outta me,” He grunts in response as he feels you writhing, groaning at the gummy texture of your walls mightily gripping around him tight.

But it’s not enough. The rush lingers, addictive and gnawing, and you want more — need more. Something to cling to, something to burn into your memory for the rest of the week. A painfully sweet reminder of just how far you’ll both go for each other.

Your lips curl into a sly smile, voice dropping into a breathy tease. Finally, you’d lock in one last time to see if he was really as crazy as you. “Do you want to know,” You pause, your breath hitching in pleasure, “how it felt to kill t-that wraith?”

Cassian’s entire body tenses, his pupils dilating as a spark of something wild flickers in his eyes. His pulse kicks up, thrumming like a war drum. Fuck yeah, he wanted to know. Every sickening, twisted detail. Morality be damned—this was love.

“Tell me,” he demands, voice low and raw, filled with a dark hunger.

You grin wickedly, savoring his reaction. “It was beautiful,” you whimper, letting the memory flood your senses. “The way her breath hitched when she realized she was going to die? Gods, Cassian, it was intoxicating. She looked so helpless.”

His breath shudders as he pumps harder, his voice gravelly. “What did you feel?”

A dark satisfaction blooms in your chest. “Relief,” you murmur. “Pure relief. Like I’d been waiting forever and I was free.”

Cassian’s eyes burn into yours, his lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Absolutely perfect. Absolutely mine.”

Your heart races as you lean in, lips hovering near his ear. “Next time,” you purr, “I’ll let you watch then fuck me right there.”

That’s it. Those few sadistic words are all the power he needs to finish you both off.

“you’re a nasty fucking girl—ughhhh.”

his speed had the bed creaking louder, and cassian’s grunting in your ear was getting louder as you were feeling fuller than ever. with hot pounds of skin against skin roughly slapping against each other after each second, the two of you felt the same pangs of pleasure and fervent dizziness. “inside, cas—fuck, cum inside me!” before an inevitable flood of heavenly pleasure consumes you both.

your cunt throbs the second he spills an entire whopping load inside of you raw, and you nuzzle your face into his neck. “cas—,” you stammer, and your walls were oh so greedy, adjusting to the way your pussy convulses around him, sharp nails dragging over his back. you both cum together as a surge of electricity pulses through each of your veins.

“fuck… ya better take every drop, s-shit,” he groans before slumping back against the headboard, tugging you closer so your face rests on his neck.

This was absolutely perfect. Cassian was yours now—forever. He could never leave you. And if he tried? You wouldn’t just kill him; you’d burn the entire world down with him. If you couldn’t have him, no one could. He simply wouldn’t exist without you.

That was love.

And Cassian being utterly, unapologetically insane? A gift wrapped in chaos. He understood you better than anyone ever could. Maybe you’d push him, see just how far that darkness in him stretched. Because Cassian didn’t get jealous—he got even. He got murderous.

“I love you, Cassian. So, so much,” you sob into his neck, your body trembling under the weight of the confession.

“I know you do,” he rasps, his voice rough as he grabs a blanket, wrapping it around your shivering form. His strong arms envelop you completely, his touch obsessive, possessive. His hand trails down your hair and back with agonizing tenderness as though memorizing every inch of you.

But something gnaws at you—a flicker of unease. Why wasn’t he saying it back? Did he need more proof that you were his literal wife(even if he didn’t know it yet), his reason for fucking breathing?

As if sensing your doubt, his grip tightens, pulling you even closer until you could hear the rapid, frantic beat of his heart. His lips brush against your ear, his voice low and raw, trembling with emotion.

“There are no words for what I feel for you,” he says, voice breaking. “Love is too weak, too pitiful. What I feel for you—gods, it devours me whole. It’s a sickness, an obsession that digs its claws into me and never lets go. You are everything. My breath, my blood, my madness.”

His words crash over you, wild and terrifying and utterly beautiful. And you know—he belongs to you as much as you belong to him.

Always.

[childishshroom]

I’m not the best at fic writing, or writing these characters/series in general, but i just had to get this idea out into words!!

(Lost my original draft of this cause of device dying, but i will prevail :[ )

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As Danny and the gang were walking down the side walk coming back from school, he suddenly sensed that a large amount of ecto was nearby, but that was impossible, there was only shops and a couple of random, far away people coming across the side walk towards them. And there was definitely no way it was from anyone he knew, he would of recognized it almost instantly.

‘Maybe its just a fluke? some random ambient patch of echo or something!’ He would start justify to himself, but that feeling never disappeared, in fact, it did the opposite, it only got stronger the longer he walked. And once it was strong enough he realized what kind of ghost that ecto would come from.

A revenant. One of — if not the most — violent, vengeful, short sighted, and all around pain in the butt to deal with, type of ghost. Of course, due to this fact, Danny quickly started looking around for the source of this negative ecto, sweeping over the shops, cars, manholes, and finally over the people they were about to pass, the ecto seemed to be concentrated around them the most, so he started looking them over, there were two of them.

There was a short woman, who probably somewhere around 25, sporting an almost fully blue outfit with the eyes and hair to match, leaving just her glasses being sort of purple tinted. Danny noted that she has roughly the same amount of ambient ecto as some just random, run of the mill paranormal hunter, if not a bit more then one, but nowhere even close to revenant levels of the stuff.

So, that leaves only the other person walking besides her.

He seemed to be a tall, pretty bulky guy, who looked like he couldn’t be that much older then 20, wearing a nearly full black suit, black and white what seems like gloves, and a pinkish-purple tie, matching with his purple hair — which, sure is an odd choice, but this is amity park, Dannys seen weirder. — anyways. Danny soon realized that he couldn’t really see the mans eyes, and that he seemed to be walking with a sort of lightness in his steps, not too dissimilar to when he himself walks around as phantom. But hey! Maybe he’s just a surprisingly light guy, who knows.

Getting back to business, he realized that while seemingly having similar levels of ecto to his companion at a glance, he had a MUCH higher level then her if you actually focused on him. So of course, he was Dannys best guess as to who the revenant might be.

But there was no way it was him! Revenants attack anybody and anything almost completely blindly, say’ from they’re target who they go after with unbridled rage. But this guy was literally just walking down the street, chatting with his friend, little to no rage, no vengefulness, not even any disappointment! Not to mention the fact that he at least looked human, revenants usually looked like strange, floating skeletons more then humans!

But Danny’s trail of thought would quickly be cut off by him spotting the weird — you could almost call it an aura — around that guy, purple, misty, and unmistakably ghostly.

<- —~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~——~— ->

ANYWAYS!!! Thats it for now cause its 3AM on a school night and i am already regretting my decisions!

Might add more later if the ghost motivation’s future hits me hard enough, i think doing Lewis’s/Vivi’s perspective of this would be fun! :))

Do you want to see the continuation of this story?

[themultifanshipper]

nobody gets me when i say daniel x oscar x reader but i need it desperately

“What's an Aussie kiss?” 

Or, the story of how Mark Webber’s existence led to a series of very fortunate events. 

Warnings: smut, threesome, mention of alcohol, oral, brief anal play, the sloppiest two person blowjobs, just pure filth, anti FIA propaganda lmao, also bad dirty talk? 

Being Daniel's ex-teammate, and current best friend, you knew a lot of Aussie slang. 

And you'd learned even more upon becoming Oscar's teammate. 

You were in a club, and for some godforsaken reason, you were squashed in between Mark and Oscar, with Daniel on the other side of the table in the small booth. 

And then you'd met Oscar's manager Mark, and, well… whenever the three of them found themselves together, your head would start pounding within minutes of them starting a conversation. 

“F1 has gone soft!” Mark slurred, already halfway into a coma. “And it wasn't even that long ago that we could swear freely and make dirty jokes without FIA cunts breathing down our necks!” 

His drink sloshed around his glass as he spoke, and you managed to dodge the spills despite being in the splash zone. 

Daniel laughed and added “Yeah, you couldn't talk about Aussie kisses nowadays without being fined!” 

The three of them laughed freely, taking sips of their drinks. 

Everyone had seen the famous clip of Mark. 

Unfortunately, you had not. And that delightful little nugget had never come up in conversation before. 

So you turned to Mark, and drunkenly asked “What's an Aussie kiss?”, much to the delight of your two fellow drivers. 

“You'll find out when you're older, kid” he smirked and you scoffed. 

When he tried to get up to order more drinks, he swayed so badly that Daniel had to catch him to avoid him falling onto the table. 

“Okay old man” he chuckled “let's get you an uber while you're still conscious” 

He led Mark through the crowd towards the exit, leaving you and Oscar to laugh at their retreating figures. 

“He's such a lightweight” Oscar giggled. 

"You're one to talk!” you slapped him on the shoulder “Your cheeks are redder than a fucking Ferrari” 

“Oh yeah?” he smiled at you, “At least I know what an Aussie kiss is” he bit his lip teasingly. 

The way he said it made a shiver run down your spine. Despite not knowing what it meant, you felt the urge to ask him to show you. 

You were suddenly very aware of how close you were, and the heat of his thigh against yours made your stomach clench. 

You cleared your throat, breaking the awkward tension and took a shy sip of your drink. 

“Don't suppose you’re going to tell me, are you?” 

He chuckled and bumped his knee against yours under the table. 

“Like the old man said, you'll find out when you're older” he teased. 

Even though there was only a year between you two, you always felt like he was the mature one of the team. The older and wiser teammate. 

You found that quite attractive, if you were fully honest. And with the amount of alcohol in you system, you definitely wouldn't hesitate to say so if asked the question. 

“Fine, I'll just ask Daniel, I'm sure he would be happy to show me” 

Oscar rolled his eyes dismissively, absolutely hating the idea of you going to someone else, just as Daniel stepped back into the booth and sat down where Mark had been a few minutes before. 

His thigh was now firmly pressed against you, and you suddenly felt very overwhelmed by their presence. 

“Dannyyy” you whined “Oscar won't tell me what an Aussie kiss is!” 

Daniel just laughed. 

“That's because he probably doesn't have much experience in that domain. I on the other hand-“ 

“Uh, actually I have more than you think!” Oscar interrupted and Daniel grinned at him. 

“Sure you do Piastri, but I’ve had at least a decade of practice more than you so-“ 

Oscar scoffed and gave him the finger. 

“Guys!” You slapped the table to grab their attention. “Just tell me and I’ll be the judge!” 

Oscar hesitated. He was slipping into dangerous territory right now. 

He was very attracted to you, and would love nothing better than to spend the night showing you his uhh… kissing abilities. 

But you were all far too drunk to make any rational decision making, and Daniel's presence was making him uneasy. 

Not to mention you were his teammate and friend. 

Daniel was thinking along the same lines. You were his drunk best friend, and the last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of you. 

“I'll tell you what” he piped up. “If you ask again when you're sober, we'll show you” 

They nodded at each other. They both wanted you, but they needed you to be clear headed. 

There was absolutely no chance you would remember this tomorrow, so this was their safest bet. 

You warily agreed, and the subject was quickly changed. 

What they didn't know, is that that night, before you went to bed completely hammered, you set a reminder on your phone. 

“lok up Ausie Kiiis on gogle” 

Well, at least it was readable to you the next day. 

And you did look it up. And found the video of Mark, which made you laugh. 

But as the night before came flooding back in your mind, you remembered Daniel's offer. 

They wanted you. They wanted to do that to you.  

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as the thought of the two of them between your legs made you gasp. Yep, it had to happen. 

Daniel and Oscar really thought they were out of the woods when they didn't hear from you all day. But then, in the evening came a text from a group chat you'd created with the two of them. 

There was a screenshot of the urban dictionary result, and few simple words that made both men twitch in their pants. 

“Instructions unclear, demonstration necessary. Room 312” 

Oscar being only a few rooms away in the same hotel meant that he got there within two minutes of his phone buzzing. 

As soon as you opened the door your were lifted by your thighs and carried over to your bed. 

He crawled over you, not giving you so much as a hello before he captured your lips in a bruising kiss. 

He was going to make the most of Daniel’s delay. 

You couldn’t help but gasp into it when you felt his hands wandering over your body teasingly, making quick work of your outer layers. 

“Jesus Osc” you panted as his lips travelled downwards, sucking and nipping at the skin of your neck. “If you were this desperate to touch me you could have just asked” 

He grunted into your skin, continuing his descent and leaving soft kisses over your barely covered breasts. 

“Didn't know you'd be into it too.” He mumbled “I didn't want to make anything awkward” 

Any response you had quickly died on your tongue when you felt a fingers brush against your clothed cunt. 

“Soaked through your panties already?” he chuckled darkly, rubbing against you with more pressure.  

You blushed, hips bucking against his hand. 

“Please, Oscar” you whimpered into your hands that were covering your face. 

“Please what?” he teased, sliding a finger under the fabric and ghosting it over your sensitive skin. 

“Fuck me, please” you whined. 

He laughed softly. “But darling, that's not why you invited me here, is it? And in any case I think we should wait for Daniel, don't you?” 

You huffed impatiently. 

“If you're that wound up, why don't you come here and let me use that pretty mouth of yours, hmm? It'll give you something to do while we wait…” 

Daniel almost broke his neck by tripping in the stairs while running as fast as he could to get to you. 

When he wrenched the door to your room open he scoffed at the sight of you on your knees at the foot of the bed. 

“Couldn't even wait for me, could you. Bastards…” 

He ripped his shirt off and made his way over to the bed. 

“I had to shut her up somehow, she's so fucking needy” Oscar pulled you off his cock and helped you to your feet. 

Daniel cooed and leaned down to kiss you, and expertly unclasped your bra while Oscar dragged your underwear down your legs. 

The kiss with Daniel quickly turned filthy, and he walked you slowly towards the bed and pushed you down on it. 

“So who gets first dibs?” Oscar asked, eyeing your body and smirking at the goosebumps appearing on your flesh as you gazed up at the two men. 

“How about Oscar first, since he was gentlemanly enough to wait till you got here?” you offered and they shrugged in agreement. 

“Works for me, that way I'll get to prove I'm better afterwards” 

You and Oscar both rolled your eyes at Daniel's statement, and the younger man quickly spread your legs and kneeled in between them. 

You were dripping already, and at the first swipe of his tongue through your folds, Oscar thought he'd died and gone to heaven.  

He groaned, lapping up your juices, and then alternated between fucking you with his tongue and circling it around your sensitive clit. 

You were moaning freely, gasping at every change of pace and pressure.  

There was definitely no denying it, he knew what he was doing. 

When he sucked on your clit your back arched, letting out whiny little moans as he made your legs tremble in no time, your thighs trying to close around his head. 

Daniel, despite not touching you, was having the time of his life. 

He was sitting next to you on the bed, and from this angle he could see every tremor, every micro-expression as you writhed under Oscar's undeniably skilled mouth. 

You were exquisite in his opinion, and he hungrily watched your breasts heaving as you tried to catch your breath after Oscar made you come all over his face. 

The younger man licked his lips hungrily as he stared up at Daniel, eyes challenging him to do better. 

You barely got any reprieve before Daniel was pushing Oscar out of the way and bending your legs at the knees. 

“Hold yourself open for me, darling” 

You did as you were told, and looked down at him while he nosed along the crease of your inner thigh. 

He pushed his tongue inside you, and you let out a gasp when his nose brushed against your clit as he moved. 

The tip of his nose was quite cold, and the difference in temperature was surprisingly pleasurable. 

But Daniel didn't plan on staying there for long, he'd come to win, even if that meant playing dirty. 

He gave your clit a teasing suck before releasing it with a pop, and slowly, his tongue made its way lower, exploring your taint, and eventually making contact with your tight rim. 

The new feeling made you shudder, and he brought a hand up to thumb at your clit in a steady rhythm while he worked his tongue against your ass. 

Your nails were digging into your own thighs where you were holding them open, and a quick glance at Oscar's expression told you he was not happy, despite being obviously turned on. 

Once Daniel could feel you loosening, he prodded his tongue inside you a little, and the sensation was so foreign to you it forced a shaky moan from your throat. 

You felt Daniels smirk against your skin and he quickly retracted his tongue, and slowly made his way back up. 

You were rapidly approaching the edge now. And the renewed attack of his mouth on your cunt was promising a spectacular finish. 

Then you felt a slight pressure lower down. 

He was rubbing his thumb against your asshole, aided by your dripping juices. 

He applied some pressure, and his thumb easily slipped inside, carefully massaging your walls while his tongue lapped at your clit hungrily. 

It took you seconds. 

You came with a loud cry as you arched your back, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm, through which Daniel helped you gently by slowing down his movements until you were shaking under him. 

He sat up and grinned at you from above. 

“So? Who was better?” 

“That's not fair, you cheated!” Oscar huffed indignantly. 

“I did not! It isn't specified how low we're allowed to go”  

“But you used your fingers! I didn't”  

“Well yeah, you gotta make use of all your assets” he wiggled his brows. 

They looked at you expectantly. 

“If one of you isn't inside me in the next 30 seconds I am kicking you both out” you muttered at the ceiling. 

They chuckled and shuffled around the bed. 

You ended up on top of Oscar, sinking down on his surprisingly thick cock while Daniel sat next to Oscar's head. 

You leaned down to take him into your mouth and he grabbed your hair in his fist in a makeshift ponytail. 

“So eager to please, isn't she Oscar? I think we’ve struck gold with this one” 

Oscar started thrusting into you slowly, and your deep groan around the cock in your mouth made Daniel mad with need as he watched you take him down eagerly. 

He then noticed Oscar was eyeing his cock with something akin to hunger in his eyes. 

“You look jealous, Oscar” he teased. “Fancy a taste?” 

He pulled you off him, and Oscar licked at his tip teasingly. 

You didn't feel like stopping though, so soon Daniel had two mouths on his cock, licking and sucking at his shaft. 

“Jesus Christ, you two are so fucking hot, what the fuck” 

You and Oscar worked in tandem, lips making brief contact as you made out with the cock between you. 

It was truly a porn worthy performance and Daniel could feel his composure slipping. 

“Fuck- stop, I'm gonna come too soon” 

He pulled you off and shuffled backwards, taking a quick breather, and Oscar laughed meanly. 

“The old man's gonna come first, that's funny” 

He was obviously just goading Daniel, but the evil glint that suddenly appeared in the older man's eyes as he got an idea made his stomach churn. 

“Wanna swap then?” he grinned, and Oscar nodded eagerly. 

Daniel lay down so you could climb on top of him, rolling your hips slowly to get used to the slightly lengthier cock, and Oscar kneeled next to him, mirroring the position from before. 

You took him down to the base first, the taste of your own slick making your eyes roll back in your head, and Oscar couldn't resist thrusting into your mouth a few times. 

“Fuckin’ hell, why were we arguing over who's better when her mouth is clearly superior”  

He gasped when you swallowed around him and used your tongue to trace the underside of his cock. 

Then you let him go with a pop, and looked at Daniel with a smirk. 

The two of you got to work, worshipping Oscar's cock with your mouths and he marveled at the sight. 

But then Daniel decided he needed to prove his superiority. 

He licked down the vein on the underside, slowly inching towards Oscar's balls. 

He licked over them, and took one into his mouth, gently sucking on it just to make Oscar lose his mind. 

“Jesus, Daniel… fuck-“ 

With Daniel working wonders down there, and you making your way up his body, currently scraping your teeth over one of his nipples, he was scared of coming before he'd even had a chance to savour the experience. 

Daniel huffed under him, drawing his attention.  

Apparently his tongue could just about reach behind Oscar's balls, but the position didn't allow him to go any further. 

“Sit on my face”  Daniel panted. 

“What?” Oscar squeaked, sure he'd misheard. 

“You heard me, come here”  he slapped Oscar's thigh to get him to move. 

Oscar didn't hesitate for long, he swung a leg over Daniel's head and hovered, facing you as he bit his lip to hide just how aroused he was at the idea. 

Daniel wrapped his arms around Oscar's thighs and slammed him down onto his eagerly waiting mouth. 

Oscar let out a high pitched moan and had to stabilise himself with a hand on Daniel's chest. 

You grabbed his hair and pulled him in for a rough kiss. 

Daniel somehow had the dexterity to pound into you from below while eating Oscar out like his life depended on it, and all the two of you could do was pant into each other's mouths as Oscar came untouched all over Daniel's chest and his own hand. 

He crawled away, and Daniel grabbed your waist to pull you down onto his cock while he rolled his hips up into you. 

“You close, beautiful? You gonna come all over my cock?” 

You nodded desperately, the new angle and speed was making you cry out in pleasure as it built up rapidly inside you. 

“Do it then, show Oscar what a good girl you are and come right now, baby” 

How you managed to stay upright will always be a mystery. The force with which your orgasm washed over you was enough to make your voice crack and your vision go momentarily dark while you rode out the most intense pleasure you'd ever felt before. 

While you waited for the feeling in your legs to come back, Oscar went to grab a washcloth to clean you all up. 

You were lying on the bed, limbs akimbo while Daniel’s cum dribbled out of you. 

“Remind me to thank Mark Webber” you said and the other two guffawed in disbelief. 

“You want to thank him? What about us, we actually fucked you!” 

You laughed. “You're right! Maybe I should ask Mark to fuck me!” 

The other two groaned. 

“Never say that again” 

You all got into bed, you in the middle, facing Oscar while Daniel spooned you from behind. 

“Well at least now I know” Daniel muttered. 

“Know what?” you asked. 

“That Piastri likes getting his ass ate” he chuckled and you burst out in a fit of giggles. 

“Fuck you” Oscar groaned. 

“In your dreams Piastri” Daniel chuckled. 

“Next time, I'm fucking you” 

“Ha!” Daniel laughed “As if !” 

But you saw the defiant look in Oscar’s eyes. 

You knew him in and out, he was not going to back down from a challenge. 

[rainydayathogwarts]

hi, this is the first time I'm writing a request on tumblr but I really like your writing (and unfortunately I'm very picky about writing styles🫣) I have tons of ideas for one shots in the back of my head so I'm coming to you with this rather simple one: reader x remus

Remus & reader are sth like friends, they have a secret crush on each other; remus is the casanova of gryffindor tower and all the girls (and probably boys) are crushing on him, Remus isn't quiet aware of the impact he has, reader reveals it to him in a convo (maybe while studying?) they're having that everyone finds him attractive and he asks if reader does aswell and so onnnn...

honestly, do with it what you want, I'm sure you will slay it! in case you hate the idea pls just ignore my request haha!⭐️

What about you? - Remus Lupin

summary: despite having a whole fanbase of girls who want him as their boyfriend, remus is only interested in your opinion wc: 1k

The giggles you heard as you walked past a group of girls with Remus had you rolling your eyes, cutting off the middle of your conversation. You couldn’t even have a single trip back from the library without a group of Remus’ fangirls making a big deal over him, but the boy didn’t notice them, only taking note of your unusual reaction.

Remus brushed a hand to the back of your arm, his soft touch stealing your attention from the group of insolent girls. “You alright?” Remus asked, carefully watching your expression change from one of annoyance to empathy. “They don’t bother you?” Remus’s eyebrows furrowed, a crease forming between them “Who?” You glanced around the hallway, looking for another group of Remus’s fans. Finally, at the sight of some third year girls huddled around in the corner of the hallway, nervously glancing towards you both, you nodded your head in their direction, softly elbowing Remus in his side. “You know, your little fanbase of girls?” Remus stopped in his tracks, making you look back at his when you realised his disappearance. 

“My little what?” You laughed at the shock in his voice, repeating “Fanbase. Honestly Rem, it shocks me every time that you don’t have a new girl in your bed every day. You could have the entire school lined up to have a turn with you.” Remus stammered, finally picking up his pace, hooking his arm with yours to drag you back to the common room with him. “You need to start over, you’ve lost me.” He said, coming to a stop in front of the fat lady’s portrait to mumble the password.

“I’m surprised you don’t know.” “Sweetheart, just give it to me straight.” He begged, slumping down on the couch in front of the fireplace and patting the spot next to him. You didn’t fail to take notice of the jealous eyes following your figure as you sat close to Remus. You felt your chest swell with pride, and almost wanted to call out ‘Yes, I’m closer to him than you’ll ever be. Cry about it.’ But there were pros and cons to being Remus’s best friend. Pro: you were Remus Lupin’s best friend. Con: you were only Remus Lupin’s best friend. And you feared that with the discovery of all the girls who wanted to have him as their boyfriend, all you’d ever be was his best friend.

“There’s nothing much to it. You know, apart from the fact that every girl in the castle wants you as their boyfriend.” Remus was silent as he processed the information, blinking slowly. “You know, it’s just always been this way. I think people started realising that you’re more than just a pretty face.” “Pretty face?” He mumbled. “Wait. Every girl in the castle?” You shrugged, replying “More or less. I mean, I can assure you that Lily isn’t one of them.” You both laughed at the comment, an image of the infatuated couple displaying in your head. Remus slid his hand into yours, squeezing it softly. “Well, what about you?” You felt your face immediately heat up at his question, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact with the boy, but you couldn’t help the way your gaze dipped down to look at the way Remus held your hand.

You gulped. This was not the first time you and Remus held hands, not at all. But you’d never held hands in this context, with the boy asking if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. “What about me?” You echoed, returning your gaze to Remus’s eyes. The boy seemed to suddenly get nervous, his face flushing as he began to stumble over his words, voice quieting down significantly. “You said every girl in the castle wants me as their boyfriend. Does that apply to you?”

You were very aware that Remus could probably hear the fast thumping of your heart, and you could too. You only wished you had a trick to know how he was feeling too. “It’s fine if not!” He announced at the same time you said “Only if you want it to!” A painful silence settled between you. You cleared your throat, watching as Remus opened and shut his mouth. He didn’t make a move to say anything, forcing you to speak up. “It’s fine if not…” You started, “Does that mean you want it to apply to me?” 

“I mean, it would be pretty nice if the girl I like wants me to be her boyfriend. But if she doesn’t, I guess it’s…” Remus’s words trailed off as he saw a wide grin on your face. He swallowed thickly, forcing his face to cool down, but that wasn’t possible. Not when you were cupping his cheeks and leaning forward to press a bold kiss on his lips. Remus’s hand curled around the nape of your neck to keep your lips pressed against his, only pulling away when he deemed himself ready. “Let’s go out!” He announced the second your lips parted, standing up abruptly. 

You blinked quickly, looking up at the tall boy and asking “Now?” Remus nodded, holding his hands out for you to take. “Yeah, let’s go out now. On a date.” You took Remus’s hands, letting him pull you off the couch. He let go of one of your hands, the other one sneakily intertwining his fingers with yours, leading you out of the common room. Remus led you onto the Hogwarts grounds to spend time together, but it was impossible to have a conversation when neither of you could take your eyes off the other’s lips. Instead, your first date was spent chasing each other for kisses by the black lake, where watchful eyes allowed the news of your relationship to be spread all around hogwarts by the time you got to the great hall for dinner.

taglist:

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl

[somanyquestions-featuringanxiety]

Thx for the tag!! Here we go…

1. The Umbrella Academy, Angel The Series and Torchwood

2. They’re long and pale pink and have sparkly hedgehogs on them!

3. I LOVE smoothies, especially anything with berries!

4. Usually a pretty dress, sometimes a nice skirt and top

5. Eggs are amazing in all forms, but my fav is soft boiled with soldiers!

6. A bookmark?? Like a normal person???

7. My wardrobe is very colourful, I’m not really sure!

8. I don’t really collect anything, though I like to own copies of my favourite books

9. I have a comforting playlist which is my go to, and I find the smell of lavender calming too :)

10. Like the ones that ask you what you most relate to or what you feel best represents you

11. No, but I think glasses are super pretty!

12. I love her kindness and genuine love and concern for me and all her other friends, it’s really beautiful

13. Pen all the way, and it has to be blue or black!

14. Definitely my mum’s house and specifically my bedroom, but also probably my school

15. I have ZERO house plants because I have ZERO gardening skills, but I have a few fake plants (I KNOW ITS CHEATING BUT I CANNOT KEEP ANY PLANTS ALIVE OK 😭)

16. My fav hoodie is pink and fluffy and has rabbits on the back!!! I’ve had it for around four years I think, and one time I wore it camping and a small chunk of burning wood flew from the campfire and landed on my sleeve, so now it’s got a hole, but I still love it :D

17. A bunch of ink refills for my fav pens

18. Honestly anything in the renaissance era, specifically anything Leonardo da Vinci related, I’m super nerdy about him lol

19. That time two years ago when me and a friend dressed up as Aziraphale and Crowley (I got to be Aziraphale!!!)

20. Tbh I’m really good at maths, but idk which kind (she says while on the verge of tears due to a maths problem)

21. I’m not much of an artist but like I already said ik a huge nerd about Leonardo da Vinci so I guess his works interest me? I do like the renaissance style

22. Iced!

23. Whatever I feel like that day! It varies all the time, but my go to is anything by The Crane Wives (my fav band)

24. Don’t have my licence yet

25. No, and I don’t think I’ll ever get any (maybe my ears pierced if I ever get over my INTENSE fear of needles)

26. I am not particularly good at cooking or baking, but I do like to bake the occasional cake or some biscuits!

27. My home keys are on a keychain with a clear shell thing full of water and blue glitter, it’s really pretty!

28. My swimming level is like… not drowning. But I’m weak as fuck, have no coordination, terrible technique and I’m slow as hell

29. I had a TON of Lego when I was younger, and most of it is disassembled in boxes now except my fav sets which were all the Harry Potter ones, especially the burrow!

30. Yes, one side is uniform, T-shirts, long pants and skirts, the other is everything else, and within both sides everything is sorted by colour

31. I’ve genuinely got no idea, I hardly ever watch music videos

32. I’d probably do some pale pink streaks!

33. Headphones all the way!!!

34. Yes

35. A rabbit a very crafty friend of mine crocheted for me , except one of its arms is almost completely falling off now since it’s over a year old and I cannot sew for the life of me

36. I like to think l’m pretty good at air hockey, though I don’t know how accurate that is

37. I can stand it, but I prefer to have it just be me while either watching tv or listening to music while doing it

38. My fav show ever is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and though some of my friends have watched a bit none of them really like it and it makes me so sad :(

39. Watching doctor who and eating dinner

40. Idk, probs willow trees (because I ADORE willow from BTVS but also because they’re pretty)

41. Coconut vanilla!

42. I have a few, like cookie run kingdom and geometry dash, but I haven’t played them in ages

43. Definitely on, but I’ve been curious about what it’s like with the lights off

44. Stick it in my purse and hope I remember it’s there when I need it (I don’t)

45. Yeah it’s pretty good! Definitely fluctuates a lot though depending on the speed and size I’m writing and how much effort I can be bothered to put into it

46. I don’t know if this is the latest but my fav band was introduced to me via a friend, and it was one of the best things to ever happen to me

47. Short, easy, pretty walks? Yes. Hilly hike things where’s its stupidly hot, ugly and the middle of nowhere? Absolutely not

48. Yes, a pretty pink bowl with cool patterns on it

49. Sit in bed and read!! Bonus points if it’s cold enough for an open fire

50. Under one soft blanket, in soft loose long sleeved pyjamas, a bit of background noise coming from outside my room but nothing loud, cool temperature, knowing I have no alarm tmrw

Whew, did them all!

No pressure tags (I know this was long but it’s super fun!)

@niamhings @amy-harper @hawthorne-swift-enthusiasttt @yourlocalchronicdaydreamer @yourlocalwhovian @n3rdchi1d + anyone who wants to!

50 Questions Just Because

What are three shows in your watchlist that you’ve been meaning to get to?

Describe your favorite pair of socks

Do you like smoothies?

What do you wear when you have to dress nicely?

How do you like your eggs?

What do you use to keep your place when you’re reading a book?

What color dominates your closet?

Do you collect anything? If so, what?

What sounds or scents calm you down?

What’s your favorite kind of uquiz question? (Lyric, color, aesthetic, etc)

Do you wear glasses or contacts?

What’s something about your best friend that you love?

Do you prefer to write in pen or pencil?

What are some places where you feel most at home?

Do you have any houseplants? Do any of them have names?

Describe your favorite hoodie. How long have you had it? What makes it unique?

What’s the last thing you ordered online?

What’s one historical event that you would have liked to have witnessed?

What’s your favorite Halloween costume from when you were a kid?

What kind of math are you best at?

What’s your favorite period in art history, your favorite famous work and/or your favorite style of art? If you don’t know any that’s ok!

Iced or hot drinks?

Which songs do you like to sing in the shower?

Are you a good driver?

Do you have any piercings or tattoos? Are there any that you want?

Can you cook or bake? If so, what are some of your specialties?

Do you have any keychains on your home or car keys? Describe them!

Can you swim very well? Do you like swimming?

Did you play with Legos as a kid? What was your favorite set?

Is your closet organized? If so, how?

What’s the last music video you watched?

If you could dye your hair any color, regardless of how you think it would look, what color would you choose?

Headphones or earbuds?

Can you read analog clocks?

Describe your favorite stuffed animal, either now or from when you were a kid.

What’s an arcade or table game (air hockey, ping pong, etc) that you’re really good at?

Do you mind if others are in the kitchen when you’re cooking or baking?

What’s one show you watch or musician you listen to that your friends know nothing about?

What was the best part of your day today?

What’s your favorite kind of tree?

What scent is your deodorant?

Do you have any games on your phone? If so, which one(s) is/are your favorite?

Do you shower with the lights on or off?

What do you do with spare change?

Do you have good handwriting?

What’s the last thing a friend recommended to you that you looked into and actually liked?

Do you like to go on walks?

Do you have a favorite plate or bowl?

What’s your favorite thing to do when it’s raining?

Describe your perfect sleeping conditions

[demonic0angel]

Dani goes to Jazz to ask how to do romantic stuff with her boys, since Maddie is kinda insane.

“Jazz?” Dani asked, sneaking into the room. Jazz was sitting on her bed with her phone and when she saw Dani, she patted the area beside her, which Dani immediately jumped into with a grin.

“Did something happen?” Jazz asked.

“Can’t I just spend time with my favorite sister?” Dani cajoled, batting her eyelashes.

Jazz snorted. “I’m your only sister. What’s up?”

Dani hemmed and hawed for a little while longer before she finally admitted, “The dates I have with Kon and Tim kinda suck. How do you and Jason do it?”

Jazz blinked. “Why? What about them sucks?”

Then she paused and asked, “Why didn’t you ask Mom? She’s home, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, but she wouldn’t get it. Kon, Tim, and Jason are all from the same dimension and are superheroes. Mom is like a supervillain… and she’s insane and her idea of a date would probably be about killing Danny.”

Jazz winced but agreed. “You’re right. So what makes your dates together suck?”

“I don’t know, we can never agree on something to do and then whenever we do, it’s always interrupted by villains and then the date is ruined. Also, I think we’re all trying to learn how to date and it sucks,” Dani complained, flopping over Jazz’s lap. “So how do you and Jason do it? Because you’re working as a full-time psychiatrist in the morning and then you’re working as his assistant at night, and then Jason is a loser who died, so like, how do you guys do it?”

Jazz looked at the ceiling for a moment in exasperation before she answered, “Well, we do a lot of things. Jason and I treat our missions as dates, and we use stakeouts as an excuse to hang out with each other and cuddle on rooftops. We both enjoy it, so I don’t consider it a chore and it makes it fun.”

“So you use missions as dates,” Dani muttered, taking out her phone and putting it in a new note.

“We also share a lot of hobbies, like reading, so we’ll read together or we’ll share a book and pass it between us so we can each read a chapter in our free time. Then we talk about it or pass notes. He also makes excuses for us when we’re not busy and takes me to see new things. Sometimes, it’s not just about you, it’s about you learning about your partner.”

“Sharing hobbies…”

Jazz eyed Dani with a raised eyebrow and continued, “For example, a few weeks ago, he took me to a show because I’ve never seen it before, but he loved it. I learned something new and we both got to watch each other’s reactions. And then the other day, I took him to our university in Amity Park and he got to attend a couple of classes since he never got to before.”

Dani nodded. “Bring each other to new places… okay! I think I got an idea! Thank you so much! You’re the best!”

Jazz beamed. “Of course!” As Dani jumped off the bed, she called out after her, “Tell me how it goes!”

A few days later, as Jazz and Jason were huddled together on a rooftop, holding hands and quietly chatting over a hamburgers and fries, Jazz pulled out her phone and gasped in delight. “Oh! It looks like Dani just had her first successful date with Tim and Kon! She took them out to visit Clockwork and see different timelines!”

Jason laughed in surprise, tugging her phone towards him so he could see the excited text messages that Dani sent over. “Wait, are you serious? Tim was just asking Dick for advice about going on dates a few days ago!”

[delight-angelsbliss]

Hi there! May I request for your Valentine's one, S1 numbers 23 and 30 with Shadow and reader? Thanks and have a great day/night! ☺️

Prompts: "I wish everyday could be like this" + writing a love letter only to throw it away but they find it

Warnings: none that I know of (^-^)

Notes: depressed gamer you're a genius this is such a cute pair!! I was a bit out of ideas while making this cuz of bad cramps but it'll be fine lol my first laptop should arrive today which makes me really happy<3 guys I love Tommy February6 songs too much I'll never let them go.. Guys I totally didn't think of ratatouille when saying your eyes widened with each word because of that one short chef trust Might make a pt2 to this cuz this is such a cool idea but I kinda rushed this cuz of some things I needed to get ready for</3

Shadow was known as a loner who never engages with people unless he knows them well enough and can trust them with everything. He is an emotionally unavailable person with little to no knowledge on how to successfully comfort someone which makes it hard for his peers to engage with him or make small talk since he always gives dry and short responses that are hard to respond to

Since he's so distant to people it felt near impossible to be friends with him, only a few people successfully cracking through his facade and becoming close friends with him

But you wanted something more than friendship, something more, intimate something more romantic, and something more close now of course that was a hard task to achieve

You were certain that if he did reject your advances he couldn't act nice (hundred percent he'd look at you disgusted and degrade you before leaving) which is why it would be hard to face him directly face to face

What you didn't know was that the hedgehog was in fact quote infatuated with you! Stealing quick glances while you're around, getting quiet when you walk in the door, keeping his hands seen whole you're talking to him

It was quite obvious for most, especially Amy and Sonic, instead of teasing him like he expected (even if sonic did tease him a bit) they were telling him to make a letter and how cute that could be

They referred him to some shops that could have cute things and stickers for the letter, even giving him some pointers how to express his feelings in writing (me next please I need a tip or two) after a while of working on the letter, he decided to stop, thinking it would be stupid

Someone as great as you could never like somebody as brooding as him! Why'd he ever try? He decided to go outside and throw it in that dumpster instead if the one inside so no one finds a trade of the letter

What he didn't realize was that he threw it in the wrong trash. The trash was full and if anything else was in there he'd be certain it would fall out. Doubling down he throws it anyway and leaves, going to go sulk in a corner probably

In this hot day he decided it would he best to sulk inside.. As for you, you decide to go take a walk outside since the weather was so nice, while walking around you spot the letter

Like a good pedestrian you pick up the letter and try to throw it in the trash before realizing it was addressed to you! What could possibly be in it? Curiousity gets the best of you, you decide to open the letter and read it... Your eyes widen slowly with each word as you realize it's a love letter from shadow

"I wish everyday could be like this" you say to yourself in surprise. He really did like you?! This felt like a dream come true as more emotions started spiraling in your mind

Now how do you go about telling him you found the note?

[queervegancryptid]

I would encourage people to try different distros over time to see which one suits you best. I use Archcraft, which isn't beginner-friendly. But the neat thing about Linux is that you can use a USB stick to boot into a "live" OS and try it before installing.

In the olden times, this was more often done by burning a large file to a blank DVD disc, but it's become much easier to do with the USB stick method. But especially in those days, you wanted to try before installing. For one thing, installation used to take a really long time. And without trying it, you couldn't be 100% sure whether all your hardware would work as expected. There are still some issues in that area, but it's a lot better than it used to be.

Distrochooser is a great place to start. I'd also suggest checking out the following:

This is a great resource. Suppose you have a computer, or you're considering buying a new one, and you want to know how compatible the hardware will be with Linux. You can look up the model of the computer and see information on it that's been uploaded by actual users who have that same machine and the distros they tested on it. You can also look up information by specific part, like a sound card that isn't working properly out of the box, as an example.

This kind of thing used to be a much bigger headache, but there can still be some issues. Which is also why I'd encourage most people to dual-boot Windows or macOS alongside a Linux partition. There are a ton of guides on how to do this. You'll have to find one for your specific machine or one similar, like from the same company and around the same year.

You don't have to get comfortable with using a terminal, but it's a good idea. The more you understand how Linux works, you can customize it and make it your own in ways you just can't with Windows or macOS. I really like that about Archcraft. There's a good base, and I can add to it in ways that work for me.

You may also spend a while distrohopping, bouncing around until you find one that suits you, and then you may decide after a while to hop around some more. I've tried dozens of them over the years. It started as a curiosity thing I was messing with in my dorm room. Then my laptop was stolen, and I basically cobbled one together out of spare parts. But it couldn't run Windows XP for more than about 20 minutes before crashing and powering down. So my Linux skills became useful, and I learned to make do with a machine that had only about 35 GB storage. I wouldn't recommend it, but I'm glad I had the skills and knowledge necessary to put that together. When I was stranded at my dad's house during the recession for a year and a half, it was my only lifeline to the world outside my tiny hometown.

Seriously, Linux is amazing. You should explore it, especially if you're a curious person like me. There's a lot to explore, and that's one reason why I like it. I try new or obscure distros sometimes just for fun. But that's probably the autism.

I might add more to this but I'm trying to put together a guide for people who are new to Linux and curious about it, because more and more people seem to be getting sick of Windows all the time. I keep a Windows partition because there are a couple of games I like that work better on that OS, so it's just a matter of practicality. You might need a Windows (or Mac) partition for another reason, like work or something. Once again, it's about finding what works best for you. I think a lot of people would be happier with Linux, and I'm really glad it's more doable now than when I started.

"windows 11 upgrade ready!" "your computer is eligible for windows 11!" "download windows 11 now!"

[maretinelli]

MIDNIGHT TALKS

Lewis Hamilton X Bride!fem!reader

Summary: When rainy night bedtime conversations are the best between Lewis and his fiancée.

Words: 2.4K+

Warnings: I don't think anything too alarming, just laughter, cute couple and romance.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And you can request stories on my profile. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

It was as if God had made them for each other. And they were both certain that they were definitely soulmates who were destined to live together and love each other unconditionally. They had a partnership, a love, a fondness for each other that went beyond words. Something that no one could describe, because it was something unique. Something that was theirs.

That night, as winter battered the city with cold winds and incessant rain, they lay together, protected by a nest of blankets. The sound of the rain beating against the bedroom window brought a unique comfort, filling the comfortable silence between them.

Y/N adjusted the sleeve of the baggy sweatshirt she was wearing. The sweatshirt was actually Lewis's, but for some reason, it felt more like it belonged to her now. He smiled, pulling her closer.

"When we have a daughter, I'd like to name her Isla. What do you think?" Y/n asked, staring at the window, where drops were running down the glass.

Lewis made a sound that didn't entirely approve of the idea. "Do you have any other options? I don't think I like this one very much."

Y/n turned her face towards him, laughing. "What do you mean? Isla is cute!"

"Yeah... but it's literally "island" in Spanish. It looks like we're going to call it a stretch of land surrounded by water."

"You're impossible." She rolled her eyes, but the smile was still there. "Isla is a pretty, sophisticated name."

"Well, then if we have a boy, we can name him Lewis. Fair enough."

Y/n let out an exaggerated sigh. "And your ego strikes again."

Lewis chuckled softly before leaning in and burying his face in her neck, breathing in deeply. Her scent was a soft mix of vanilla and something purely hers. It was so familiar and comforting that it felt like a home he always wanted to return to. The warmth of her skin against his made his smile soften, as if in that moment nothing else in the world mattered.

"Okay, now tell me... If you weren't Lewis Hamilton, who would you be?"

He looked up at her in confusion before laughing. "Uh, I don't know. My mom would probably have found another name for me."

Y/n patted his chest lightly. "I worded that a little wrong. I meant... If you weren't a Formula 1 driver, what would you be?"

Lewis smiled. "Ah, much better now." He smiled, pretending to be more interested in the new version of the question. "Hm... maybe a musician? I've always liked music. Or something that would make me travel a lot... But I doubt I'd be happy without a race car."

"Oh, so you'd be a traveling singer? Like a modern-day troubadour?" She joked, biting her lip to hold back a laugh.

Lewis laughed out loud. "Now that you put it like that, it doesn't sound so cool..."

Soft laughter filled the room before Y/n looked down at her own hand, where her engagement ring glinted softly in the dim light of the lamp.

"I wanted to be a ballerina when I was a kid, you know?" She said thoughtfully. "But in the end, I went to college to study physical therapy."

Lewis turned to face her, a smile forming on his lips. "That explains why you walk so gracefully...or why you can make me stretch without me noticing."

She laughed. "Yes, Lew. That's always been my secret plan. To make a seven-time world champion racer stretch like a ballerina."

"It worked, so congratulations."

The two laughed together, and Lewis took the opportunity to pull her closer. He left a tender kiss on her hair and sighed.

"You know... I imagine us being even happier when we're married. More trips together, more moments like this... maybe another dog running around the house." The pilot says, stroking his bride's hair.

Y/n smiled shyly and snuggled against the sweatshirt he was wearing, as if she wanted to hide her face.

Lewis chuckled softly, finding it adorable, and held her closer, whispering fondly, "You know I love all this with you, don't you? There's nothing in the world I want more."

She lifted her face just enough to look him in the eyes, her heart warming at his words. "I know..." She murmured, smiling lovingly.

Lewis chuckled, stroking her hair tenderly, feeling his own heart overflow with love. Y/n wrapped an arm around Lewis's stomach, enjoying his cozy warmth.

She then smiled against her sweatshirt, "Did you know that when I first met you, I thought you were going to be boring?"

Lewis's eyes widened, clearly caught off guard, before letting out an incredulous laugh. "What?! What do you mean?"

"I swear!" Y/n laughed along, lifting her head to look at him. "You always had that super serious look in the garage, like you were about to fight someone. I was afraid you'd ignore everything I said."

Lewis blinked a few times before laughing even harder, shaking his head. "So you're saying my 'relaxed face' scared you?"

"Exactly!" Y/n joked, holding back her laughter. "But after we were introduced, I realized you were a lot less intimidating than you seemed... I mean, at least when you're not in the car."

Lewis chuckled and raised an eyebrow before teasing her, "Well, my first impression of you was quite different. All I could think about was how beautiful you were and how much hotter that white team t-shirt made you look."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips. "You don't miss a thing, do you?"

He laughed and continued, amused: "But look, if I knew you thought that about me in the beginning, I don't think I would have even gone to talk to you." The fake tone of indignation made Y/n let out a loud laugh.

Without thinking twice, she lightly patted his chest, through his sweatshirt. "Stop being so dramatic, Hamilton! You know I love you now."

He smirked, his eyes shining. "And that's what matters."

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes again, and snuggled closer to him, feeling his chest vibrate with another low chuckle. She knew that, despite the teasing, Lewis loved knowing that, from the beginning, they were destined to meet—even if there were a few wrong first impressions along the way.

Lewis sank his fingers into Y/n’s hair, tracing soft circles against her scalp as his voice came out in a calm tone. “What was the exact moment you realized you were in love with me?”

Y/n chuckled softly, feeling her face heat up at the memory. "Ah, I remember perfectly..."

Lewis smiled as he noticed how her cheeks flushed, and that only made him want to hear even more. "Tell me" He encouraged, his voice thick with curiosity and affection.

Y/n sighed, hiding her face for a moment before looking at him. "It was that day... after the race at Silverstone, when you narrowly missed the podium. I walked into the physio room and there you were, sitting on the bench, looking so exhausted and frustrated. I knew you hated losing, but... instead of complaining, you simply looked at me, smiled tiredly and said, 'At least I have you here.'"

Lewis blinked slowly, surprised by the memory. "Did I say that?"

"Yes, I did." Y/n chuckled softly, biting her lip. "And in that moment, I knew. It didn't matter if you won or lost, if you were on top of the world or having a bad day... I just wanted to be by your side."

Lewis stared at her for a moment before smiling, his heart squeezing in a good way. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you again? Because it's working."

Y/n laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around her body. "Your turn, Lew. When did you realize you were in love with me?"

He chuckled softly, thinking for a moment before answering, "Well... I knew you were the love of my life the day Mercedes hired you as a physical therapist."

She raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Oh, stop..."

"I'm serious!" Lewis laughed. "I walked into the garage and saw you there, in that team uniform, talking to someone. I thought to myself, 'Shit, if this woman takes care of my physique, I'll never be able to concentrate on racing again.'"

Y/n laughed in amusement, "You're terrible!"

He laughed, then lowered his tone a bit, becoming more serious. "But if you want a real moment... I think it was the first time I got sick and you showed up at my house with soup and a million medicines. Not because anyone asked you to, but because you wanted to take care of me."

Y/n smiled, feeling her heart warm. "You looked like a baby with a cold, I needed to help."

"And that's when I knew I would never want anyone else taking care of me again." He said softly, his eyes locked on hers.

Y/n swallowed hard, surprised by his sincerity. Without saying anything, she approached and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before slipping back under the covers, hiding her face against his sweatshirt.

Lewis laughed, finding her reaction adorable. "No need to be shy now, love" He joked, pulling her closer and leaving a kiss on her hair.

And there, with the soft sound of rain filling the room, they knew that in any life, they would always find their way back to each other.

Lewis traced lazy circles on her back, his touch warm and comforting. “Do you think if Mercedes hadn’t hired you, we would still have met?”

Y/n looked up at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "I guess so," she said softly. "I believe that when two people are meant to be together, God always finds a way to bring them together. Maybe I wouldn't be your physical therapist, maybe I wouldn't even be in the paddock... but somehow, our paths would cross."

Lewis watched the calm way she spoke, her eyes shining with conviction. "Like... if you were a doctor in a hospital and I had a bike accident, would you be there to take care of me?" He joked, arching an eyebrow.

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. "Exactly, but I hope you don't have to fall off your bike to find me."

Lewis laughed along and tightened the hug. "I like to think that. That somehow we would always find each other."

She smiled against his sweatshirt, sinking deeper into his embrace. Comfortable silence filled the room again, interrupted only by the rhythmic sound of the rain.

Until, out of nowhere, Y/n let out a laugh.

Lewis frowned and looked at her. "What's wrong?"

Y/n sat up a little on the bed, still laughing, and looked at her fiancé. "I just remembered that day in the paddock... when you tried to get on Toto's scooter and almost fell in front of everyone."

Lewis's eyes widened before he threw himself back, covering his face with his hands. "Oh no... you remembered that?!"

"How could I forget?" Y/n laughed. "You tried to do that all-knowing pilot pose, but then the scooter jerked and you ended up on the ground."

Lewis grumbled, the embarrassment returning as if it had happened yesterday. "And the worst part is that you didn't help at all! You just kept laughing at me!"

Y/n was already laying on his stomach now, laughing breathlessly. "Because it was hilarious!"

Lewis shook his head, but couldn't help but laugh. "I swear I tried to look cool..."

"Failed miserably" She said, wiping a tear from her eye. Lewis sighed dramatically, but laughed along.

After a few seconds, Y/n took a deep breath, finally catching her breath. She lay back down next to him, her head resting on Lewis's arm as he wrapped her in his embrace once more.

This time, silence returned uninterrupted, only the soft sound of rain tapping against the window. The entire room seemed enveloped in a rare kind of peace, where the simple fact of being together was enough.

"Lew, think about it..." She begins, in a thoughtful tone. "What if the clouds are actually giant pieces of cotton candy? But they don't want us to know because if we found out, everyone would want to eat them?" Y/n spoke with the utmost seriousness in the world, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Lewis blinked a few times, processing the absurd theory, before letting out a loud laugh. "Wait a minute... so, according to you, NASA is hiding from us that the sky is a sugary amusement park?"

"Exactly! Can you imagine? They must have cotton candy machines in space to replenish the clouds from time to time!"

Lewis shook his head, laughing. "Okay, conspiracy genius... what about the little birds? Are they spies too?"

Y/n arched an eyebrow dramatically. "That's not even a theory, it's a fact! You've never seen a baby pigeon, have you noticed? They just appear as adults on the street. Because they're government monitoring robots."

"Oh my God, I'm going to marry a lunatic" Lewis said, rolling around in bed laughing.

"Not only are you getting married, you love me!" She retorted, laughing along and poking her fiancé in the ribs.

The laughter took a while to stop. They always had this way of dividing their neurons, creating jokes that only made sense to them. And that was exactly what made them so unique.

Lewis sighed, pulling Y/n closer, nuzzling his face into her neck. "You know what? I knew for sure that I wanted to marry you that day..."

Y/n looked up, curious. "On the day of the proposal?"

"Yes. My whole life, actually." He smiled against her skin. "When you looked at me and started crying before I could even say anything. I realized you were my better half, Y/n. Always have been."

Her heart raced. Y/n smiled shyly, hiding her face in the sweatshirt he wore, the way she always did when she was emotional.

Lewis chuckled, finding it adorable, and kissed the top of her head. "And I think I already know the perfect name for our future daughter."

Y/n looked up, curious. "Which one?" Her eyes lit up, thinking her fiancé was serious.

The pilot smiled, tightening the hug. "Cotton."

"LEWIS!"

His laughter echoed through the room, mixing with the sound of the rain on the window. Y/n lightly slapped his chest, but couldn't contain her laughter.

Because, in the end, life with him would always be like this: Full of jokes, nonsensical theories and love. Lots of love.

[revelboo]

HOW DAre you make me like tfa Blitzwing! 😠😵 (JK love you)

He’s fun to write, but very unstable

Hello Helicopter Pt 4

TFA Blitzwing x Reader

• How are you able to do that? You’re nothing. Just a fragile, little human. Venting, he reaches out to nudge you with a servo and you put up with it even as he gently pushes you over. Why don’t you lash out? Fight back. Run. Say something. “I don’t like to be ignored,” he says, struggling for reason amid the impulsive hunger. And pressing his servo gently against your middle makes calm spill through him until he’s shuddering.

• Like there’s any ignoring him. He’s sitting in the floor, his chin on the berth and a big servo pinning you flat on your back. Playing docile had seemed like the best idea until you can figure out how to escape from him. Which meant letting him idly prod at you while doing an uncomfortable amount of staring. Does he think you’ll do a trick if he just keeps poking at you? “No one’s ignoring you.” Don’t mean to say that but you’re so tired and fear had slid into resigned exhaustion hours ago. If he was going to hurt you, he probably would have by now.

• Keeping you carefully pinned, he can feel the beat of your heart, the steady rhythm sinking into his spark. “Why did I need you?” He asks, not sure if he’s asking you or himself. Because he’s not sure what his fascination with you is, only that it’s almost obscene. Shouldn’t want you. But that need is a constant hum through his lines like an addiction.

• “Does there have to be a reason?” Not sure what he’s wanting, but wary of his mood swings. His temper. Needing him to stay calm, because he’s easier to deal with like this. “Maybe you were just lonely?” Or horny. Your money is on horny.

• And he’s laughing uncontrollably, snatching his hand away from you and pushing himself back from that soft voice. Head thrown back as he sits in the floor. Angry and cackling, hands covering his face. Because you’d struck a nerve, feels it chiming through his spark. Hates it. Oh, Primus he hates it. “You don’t know me. Little mouse, sweet, sad mouse,” he says, laughing, rolling to his knees as his mood shifts, the personalities clawing for control as he seizes the chair from his desk and slings it at the door. Hears your startled noise as you scurry to the far end of the berth, and there’s a flicker of guilt.

Previous

[amnmesias]

𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

word count: 12.4k

summary: After the war is successfully won, Remus is left with one last battle to face: The Ministry’s order to all werewolves and survivors to attend a support group in order to effectively be accepted into regular workplaces. You face a similar dilemma, being forced to attend the group in order to not lose your precious spot in the Quidditch league. You find each other somewhere in between. 

tags: scars mention but with no detailed description. some violence. hurt/comfort themes all around, along with some fluff. fem!reader, reader has hair long enough to be played with. smoking and cigarettes are big plot points. found family. background jilypad, harry is a menace. minimal y/n use. nobody dies, post-war fic. 

a/n: hi helloo!! well, here is my next work… i’m really excited about this one. terribly sorry for the 11k words, i got a bit carried away the more i proofread. again, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! xx

...

“Fuck.” 

Remus stepped out to face the humid day, the consequence of his harsh movements immediately made itself known in the pain of his joints. His hand trembled as he placed the cigarette between his lips, somewhere behind him steps interrupted his silence.

“You alright, Moons?” Asked James, taking a tentative step towards his friend. Remus nodded, taking his time to savour the smoke in his lungs. “‘M sorry about what happened—”

“It’s hardly your fault.” He shook his head, and James sighed. “I just… I just don’t think it’s very fair.”

“I know,” He passed the cigarette to James, who accepted it readily, his own anxiety barely contained. “Don’t know what Dumbledore was thinking.”

“I don’t think this is directly his doing, either.” Said Remus, eyes lingering a beat too long on the scars peeking through the sleeve of his jacket. James passed him the cigarette. “If anything, the support group is probably the best solution he could come up with.” 

“Surely you’re not thinking of attending, Remus?”

“And what am I supposed to do, James? Be a stay at home nobody taking care of your son while you go on about your day? ‘Cause no one will give me a job because of this–” He closed his eyes, horrified at the edge of his own voice and mortified at the tears threatening to leave his eyes. He threw the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it, eyes now lost in nothing. “‘Sides… You heard the man, it’s non-negotiable.”

“Well, I could pull in a few–”

“It’s fine, Prongs.” James frowned, but let it go. Remus sighed and pushed his hands inside his pockets, fingers itching to pull another cigarette out of the box. “I’m not too miffed about it, really. It’s just… The idea of airing my… my lycanthropy to people I don’t know has me feeling a little uncomfortable. But I’ll survive. What’s the worst that could happen?”

What he almost did not survive, however, was the electric shock he felt coursing through his veins when he spotted you outside Janus Thickey Ward, fingers anxiously picking at the skin of your lips and pacing around the corridor. 

Now it’s important to point out that Remus, in all his half-blood upbringing, never once he considered himself religious, but in that moment he prayed to every saint he could remember that it was all a coincidence, or at least a misunderstanding. How could you, a well-known and incredible witch, stand before him– a nervous wreck, minutes before the so-called Werewolves and Survivors Support Group meeting he had been dreading all week, when not so long ago you were on the cover of Witch Weekly?

“Ah, Mr. Lupin,” Said the healer as she stepped out the door, you looked up, fear deeply rooted in the frown of your eyebrows. “How kind of you to join us, come, come! We’re about to begin our session.” She ushered him in, and Remus found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you as he stepped into the room. 

Remus immediately moved to take the closest seat to the door, but he was horrified to find all the chairs neatly arranged with signs with different names. He sighed, reached inside his jacket’s inner pocket for a cigarette and sat on the tiny chair labeled as Remus J. Lupin. His amber eyes scanned the room and the people quietly chatting around, each of them with visible scars to match his very own, people he recognized from packs he visited during his own missions. But you remained a mystery to him as you walked to your chair, next to his, and plucked the cigarette out of his lips.

“We’re in a hospital,” You said, your tone bored and a complete opposite to the state he found you in minutes before. “Have some respect.”

“Yeah, well,” He shrugged but pocketed the cigarette for later. “None of these people mind, I assure you, they already go through hell and back, every month, mind you.” 

You eyed him curiously and opened your mouth, but whatever words you were about to speak were interrupted as the healer walked towards the center of the room. He inhaled deeply and laid back in his chair, ready to get through the session with the most patience he could muster. 

“Good evening, everyone. I’m Healer Figg and I will be in charge of moderating this support group, therefore you must report to me upon arrival in order to keep track of the attendees. The names provided will not be published nor shared without your permission unless you are in a position where you could endanger yourself or your fellow companions.” She said, making a point of looking at everyone in the room. Remus swallowed hard. “Now, who wants to begin?” 

And well, Remus desperately wanted to say he genuinely enjoyed the session, but that would’ve been a complete lie, especially when he spent most of it wishing it was over. Every now and then, he dared to look over at you, your expression blank but your fingers a clear sign of your anxiety as you toyed with your hair. Sometimes you would feel his lingering eyes on you and meet his gaze, your own eyes desperately trying to hide the mixture of emotions inside your chest.

“And what about you? What’s your name, love?” Asked the healer, and you looked up to find her addressing the question to you. You mumbled your name, a slight edge to your voice as murmurs echoed around the room. “What brings you here, y/n?”

“Do I have to?” You asked, trying to get impossibly smaller in your chair. The healer smiled, as if she was accustomed to those responses. 

“If you want to be signed off, yes, you have to.” 

You closed your eyes, as if her answer physically pained you. Remus supposed it did, him being familiar with the after moon aches that came with his own condition, you probably weren’t so far off. 

“Um, well, I was uh… my family was attacked by a,” You paused, scanning the room. “By a werewolf.” The room remained silent as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I’m the only survivor.” 

“Oh, sorry to hear that, love.” Healer Figg said, and scribbled something in her pad before looking back up at you. You, for your part, seemed grateful for the pause to collect yourself. “Is this why you’re here? To find some sense of community?” 

You frowned, “Um, no…? Not, really. I, uh, I play for the Holyhead Harpies, the league said I must attend these meetings or they’ll remove me from the primary team.” A shaky breath left your lips, but you recovered quickly, visibly more relaxed as you added, “See, otherwise Partridge would fill my spot and that wouldn’t do anyone any good, crazy woman, that one.” At that, Remus couldn’t help himself from snorting at your statement. 

Healer Figg turned to him, eyes curious. “Is something the matter, Mr. Lupin?”

“What? No, no.” He shook his head immediately, hoping his disruption wouldn’t encourage the healer to ask him any questions. “Terribly sorry.” He mumbled, properly chastised.

You smirked, and turned to the healer, who looked down at her pocket watch and clapped loudly. “Oh, it seems we overstayed our welcome here, a retired globins meeting will take place shortly in this room, so we must wrap this up. Thank you for coming.” Remus blinked, suddenly aware of everyone around him standing up, you included. “Refreshments are free for everyone to take. I’ll see you next week.” 

He made to turn to you, an apology frizzling in his tongue but he frowned as he watched you walk out the room without looking back. Remus frowned and tried to follow you, however, his fellow werewolves circled him with numerous questions about his work on the Order of the Phoenix, all grateful for his help towards the werewolves rights movement. His eyes lingered a beat longer on the door and surprised himself when he realized he looked forward to the next meeting.

—

You stared hard at the flame at the end of your cigarette, your fingers shaking slightly a result of the cold weather and your tiresome tendency of forgetting your gloves. A habit you unconsciously picked up since the attack, still used to how your own mother would meet you at the door to properly help you bundle up for the low temperatures, walking away with a faint kiss mark on your cheek, before you lost her to– You shook your head, willing your head to think about something else, something less disturbing. 

Few members you recognized from the previous session walked past you, waving and giving you courteous nods as they themselves mentally prepared for the meeting. You gave yourself a couple of more minutes before entering. 

When the captain of your team walked to you with the news, sadness in her own eyes barely contained, you had half the mind to quit the team for good. The trauma of the attack still lingering in your body as she explained the reasons behind the league’s decision, and she begged you to consider it. You weren’t stupid, you knew the possibility of losing you was as much of a tragedy to the team than it was to you, but the idea of speaking out about what happened in front of unknown people who had managed to survive their very own attacks with much worse consequences, made you queasy in your stomach. You supposed you had it better than them, therefore you had less reasons to make a fuss about the whole ordeal, when they had full moons to dread and transformations to suffer; suddenly your new acquired taste for medium rare, almost raw meat being the only consequence of your own attack seemed a pointless thing to cry about. 

“Hey,” You turned, only to find Remus Lupin’s tall figure walking to you. He seemed far more relaxed than last week, very much like you. Both filled with acceptance towards the situation. “Can I have one?”

You wordlessly passed him your carton, he nodded as he opened it and grabbed your lighter from inside as well. A bemused smile tugged at the corners of his lips at the green and gold embellishments in the lighter, the Holyhead Harpies logo front and center, you bit your lip and looked away trying to hide your smile. 

“Sorry about the other day,” He said between an exhale of smoke. You turned to him again. “Didn’t mean to laugh at your… your situation.”

“It’s quite alright, I knew you weren’t.” You smiled. Remus nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “You play Quidditch, Mr. Lupin?”

Remus supposed he had that one coming. “Call me Remus, please.” He stretched his free hand out and you shook it, your soft palm against his own scarred skin. You said your name quietly and he had no qualms in hiding his own smile. “Oh, I know. But not because I’m a Quidditch fan myself.”

“Well, isn’t that a shame.” You stepped on your cigarette, your boot making a faint sound against the concrete. “Thought Potter had brain washed you by now.” 

“Ah, yes. Well, he thinks I’m a lost case when it comes to Quidditch so,” You chuckled quietly, remembering James Potter and his intensity whenever you encountered him at the pitch. “Lily won’t believe me I’m talking to you, though. She’s a big fan.” 

He enjoyed the way you blushed at his compliment, “Oh, that’s nice. Tell her I said hi?” You said as you walked to the entrance, he stared at your back as you disappeared into the building. 

Remus smiled to himself, blowing the smoke out one last time before putting out his own cigarette. An optimistic feeling lingering inside his chest as he walked inside, maybe this support group idea wasn’t so bad, the more he thought about your tiny smile and faint blush, the more he was looking forward to the next session.

—

“Harry, please,” Remus begged, the tiny wooden  spoon in his hand mid air as the baby shook his head mutely. “You had this just the other day, and you loved it!”

“No.” He said, apparently loving that word when it wasn’t used against him. “Bad Moony!”

“Bad Moony?!” He asked, aghast. James laughed from his spot on the couch. “James, what have you done to your child? Just yesterday he couldn’t leave me alone!” 

“James.” Chided Lily as she walked into the kitchen, assessing her own son and the tall man miserably trying to feed him. She placed her hands on her hips, “Could you stop terrorizing Remus, for once in your life? Here, love,” She made to them and Remus stood up readily, passing her the spoon.

“Terrorizing?!” James echoed, entering the kitchen with faux offense. “It’s hardly my fault Harry decided to antagonize everyone today. If anything it’s Remus' fault for not learning to pick his battles.”

“Prongs, be nice, I met your hero last night.” 

“Oh?” Lily turned, her attention divided between the conversation and feeding her son, who, for his part, knew better than to disobey his mother and happily ate her offerings. “Who might this hero be?” 

Remus frowned at Harry before turning to his friends. “Remember y/n, from school?” 

“What?” James exclaimed, suddenly in front of Remus. The bespectacled boy grabbed him by the shoulders, hazel eyes big with surprise. “From the Holyhead Harpies? Where? Why have you held this information from me? Moony, what the f–”

“James.” Lily chided again, now busying herself cleaning baby Harry’s face. Remus sent her a pleading look. “Besides, if Remus wants to keep his late night rendezvous with this pretty girl to himself, it’s his own decision.”

“Thank you.” Remus nodded, meeting James’ eyes with a satisfactory smirk. Then turned back to the redhead. “Hold on, rendezvous is not the word I’d use. It was just a coincidence.”

“Was it?” Lily asked, irking an eyebrow. “My mistake, then. Your face is saying a completely different thing, though.” 

James seemed to catch his wife’s meaning immediately and smirked salaciously at his friend. Remus groaned and dropped his head to his hands. There was shuffling around and little Harry’s babbling making background noise as Lily walked to change his now food-stained clothes. 

“Wait, where did you meet her last night?” James asked after a long silence. “I thought you had– Oh.”

Remus suddenly felt like this was a conversation none of them had any right in participating. He looked away, eyes lost in the way Lily cooed quietly at Harry as she changed his clothes. A heavy feeling in his chest he suspected was merely guilt, surely he wouldn’t want anyone to go on about his business with other people. Especially when the topic was still raw from the war that had just ended. 

James reached over and patted his shoulder consolingly. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.” 

“Say anything about what?” Asked Sirius, having just walked in time to listen to their hushed conversation. “What are you two babbling about? Remus, what happened to best friends?” 

“Your own fault for going only God knows where.” Remus retorted with a shake of his head, grateful for the change of topic. 

“I’ll have you know I was away buying healing potions for you, dearest Moons.” He said, presenting him with a heavy, brown bag. Remus sighed. “And before you say anything, I absolutely do guarantee you that I don’t mind buying these at all. You’re not the only one with battle scars, alright?”

“Hardly.” James snorted, “Love, getting into a row with a random dog does not count as battle. That’s you being a complete plonker.” 

Sirius gasped, “We’ll see if this plonker is free tomorrow morning to watch over Harry when you and my gorgeous Lilyflower leave for work.”

“Watch over your own son, you mean?” Remus asked, but James beat him to it. 

“Remus can watch Harry, don’t ya, Moons?” 

He laughed loudly and stood up, “No can do, Jamie. I have important matters to attend to.”

“Are said matters a new code for a certain lovely Quidditch player, perhaps?” Asked Lily as she walked in with Harry on her hip, who stretched his arms out as soon as he spotted his father. 

“Scandalous!” Gasped Sirius as he held Harry to his side. Remus groaned, not at all planning to participate again in the same conversation. “And who this lovely Quidditch player might be?”

“Alright, I’m leaving.” He nodded shortly, and turned around. Harry shrieked happily as the man kissed his head lovingly. “Bye, Harry.” 

“No kiss for us, Moony?” Lily asked jokingly, wiggling her eyebrows at him. Remus groaned, betrayed that his own best friend would join in on the banter against him. “Or are you reserving those for—”

“A menace. The three of you.” He said, and walked to the door. “Keep this up and I’ll take Harry from you, this is your first warning!”

—

“What else was I supposed to do?!” Remus asked, his own smile barely contained as he heard you laughing next to him. “I was going crazy, it seemed appropriate at the time!”

“Alright, I’ll give you that,” You allowed, straightening your posture where you laid next to him against a wall. Remus blushed faintly when your arms brushed his when you brought the cigarette to your lips. “But surely you could’ve picked a better song… Changes? Really?”

“Oh, I’ll have you know it would be the best song to die to. Anything from Bowie really,” He considered it, then added, “Or Pink Floyd.” 

“Okay, Pink Floyd I can accept.” You nodded, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. Remus suddenly thought that you looked very lovely under the low street lights. “Didn’t realize you were such a music snob... Well, I suppose it makes sense, keeping to yourself all the time at school.”

And well, Remus couldn’t really blame himself for the way his heart almost leaped out of his chest at your comment, the insinuation that you had noticed him back then. He hoped you wouldn’t notice his blush, or the loud way his heart was beating against his ribcage. You blew out the smoke from the corner of your lips, you had painted them a pretty shade of red he admitted to love, but there was something about your eyes, lost in nothing during the session and now next to him, you seemed… sad. 

“And that’s enough about me.” He cleared his throat, moving to lay over his shoulder against the wall so he could fully face you. You looked over at him with surprise. “Tell me about you.”

“About me?” You asked incredulously, as if Remus wanting to know about you never crossed your mind. He nodded, eyes soft as he studied you. “Um, well… I don’t know, what do you want to know?” 

“Anything.” He shrugged, smiling at you as you frowned, your eyebrows scrunching adorably. “Or at least tell me something I wouldn’t find in that bloody magazine.” 

You smiled, visibly relaxed at the olive branch he offered you. “Read much about me?” Now it was Remus’ turn to smile sheepishly at you. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Okay…” You looked up and brought your free hand to pick at the skin of your lips, a deep rooted habit of yours, he noticed. “Oh, I know. When I was little, the first time I showed signs of magic,” You began, meeting his gaze with a tentative look, something in his eyes motivated you to grow momentum as you continued, “I was outside playing with Sylvie, our family cat, and I don’t remember correctly but my mam said something about her not listening to me that made me so angry that I sent her flying… quite literally.” You laughed, a melancholic glint in your eyes as you placed the cigarette in your lips. 

Remus watched in awe at the red lipstick stains on the filter, but he recovered quickly when you looked at him, “Hold on… You sent your cat…? Flying?” He barked a laugh, surprising both of you. 

You laughed, nodding. “Pretty much, yes. She was alright, in case you’re worried. We found her a couple of hours later, she was stuck on a tree.”

Remus smiled, “And did Sylvie ever forgive you for that? I’m sure you scared the wits out of her.” 

“Nah, that bloody thing wasn’t scared of anything.” You shook your head, your chuckles taking a sad note. Remus frowned. “She quite literally threw herself at Greyback and his pack when he came pounding at our door, fearless creature, that one.” 

Remus felt the air getting sucked out of his lungs at your words. You exhaled deeply and chanced a glance at him, your eyes wide and fearful. 

“I… I’m sorry.” You whispered, harshly throwing your cigarette down to put it out. Remus followed your movements in silence. “Don’t know why I–”

“It’s okay. No need to be sorry, certainly not on behalf of that… that,” He sighed deeply, not courageous enough to finish his sentence, instead, he cleared his throat. “Back there, when you said you said you reckoned Voldemort targeted you…”

You studied him quickly, a slight purse to your lips as you considered your words. “I’m muggleborn, so...” You shrugged, as if that simple fact would make the tragedy obvious, or remotely acceptable.

“Oh.” You sent him a sideways smile, a small trembling thing. Remus wanted to reach out and… What? Do what? He wasn’t sure, but you seemed desperate to change the topic, or leave. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright, hardly your fault.” You straightened your posture, fingers anxiously fixating on a patch of skin in your lips. Remus bit his own lips as he considered you, and desperately thought on another topic, anything to stop you from leaving. “See you soon, then?” You offered. 

“Yeah,” He breathed out, nodding quickly. A candle of hope lighting up inside his chest. You smiled at him, a similar hopeful look in your eyes. “Yes, of course.”

“Bye, Remus.” 

Remus watched you go, a frown in his face. He sighed and laid back on the wall, feeling rather good about the exchange despite the sour turn of events. He had hoped to ask for your number at some point after the session, heart aching to get to know you better, but he supposed it could’ve ended much worse. Eventually you both had to address the elephant in the room, but he could wait, he was willing to wait an eternity if it meant to keep you a bit longer in his life. 

He sighed deeply, reaching out for another cigarette before parting to his own flat. The lighter you brought him heavy on his pocket. You had handed it to him with a mischievous smile, so you stop taking mine, you said while handing it to him when you both noticed yours had ran out of fluid. Remus smiled around the cigarette and brought the lighter to his lips, but his eyes stopped on the messily handwriting on it. Your number. 

—

As the days passed, you weren’t ashamed to admit the giddiness that possessed you when you returned to your flat from practice, fingers itching for the telephone to talk to Remus. Both of you made a routine to end your days with long conversations that easily lasted all night, asking questions that you both usually would hold back from but were feeling confident enough with the help of the distance and the telephone.  

“Harry, stop,” Hissed Remus through the other line, you smiled. Muffled sounds came from his side, no doubt wrestling with his godson for the telephone. “Sorry. He’s in a mood.” 

“It’s okay. He seems like a firecracker, that one.” You pointed, fingers toying with the telephone cord. “Again, can’t really blame him when he has James Potter and Sirius Black genes. Next time you see Lily please offer her my most sincere condolences.” Remus laughed, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder. 

“I will do that, definitely. Add mine as well, while I’m at it.” He mumbled, and laid back and away from Harry’s hand trying to grab the phone from him, he balanced the baby on his lap and used a hand to raise it away from him. “Harry, no. Moony is on a call with a very pretty girl, do you want to play with your toys? A nap maybe?” He whispered, and you smiled against your own phone. Surely not meant to hear the last bit. 

You turned to the clock in your kitchen, reading the time and inhaled deeply, mustering all the courage you could manage. 

“Need help with him?” You offered quietly, hoping to not be heard over Harry’s shrieking. 

There was no response from the other side and you felt both relieved and disappointed, you scolded yourself for thinking that way. 

Then, “You don’t mind?” 

“Not at all, I’m not very well versed in babysitting but I’m sure two is better than one.” You said, your grip on the phone tightened as you stared at your socked feet. “I don’t mean to impose, I just…”

“It’s alright.” Remus breathed out, sounding equally nervous to how you felt. You let your hopefulness linger a bit longer. “Ever been to Godric’s Hollow?” 

You smiled, and just like that, as soon as he provided you instructions for apparition and gave you a very heartfelt goodbye, you rushed to your room and changed your clothes. Fingers tingling with excitement as you locked your own apartment and made to apparate right to Godric’s Hollow. The Potter cottage sat at the very heart of the village, a pretty looking house decorated with well-tended flowers and warmth radiating from every angle you looked at it. A home that drowned in love despite it almost being a cause of tragedy in the wizarding community. 

Remus smiled at you as he opened the door, tiny Harry clinging to his side as both studied you. His light brown hair was tousled, standing on all sides in a clear show of his distress, but his amber eyes looked at you so, so softly you almost melted right there despite the snow surrounding you. You waved shyly, and he seemed to snap out of his trance.

“Hi,” He breathed out. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Hi,” You echoed with a chuckle. Harry blinked at you, his green eyes, a carbon copy of Lily’s, scanning you curiously. “I brought biscuits.” And just like that, you proved yourself worthy to Harry. “Can I come in?” 

“Yes, of course.” He nodded, stepping aside to let you in. You were immediately welcomed by the faint smell of hazelwood and baby powder. “Here, let me take that.” He tried to help you, but his arms were full. 

“It’s okay,” You laughed, feeling rather comforted that Remus himself didn’t know what to do. 

You took out your coat, arms raising to untangle the scarf from your neck. Remus’ eyes involuntarily roved over your form, stopping on the scars peeking through your abdomen, he immediately scolded himself when you looked up to meet his gaze, blind to his reaction. Harry took your lack of layers as an opportunity to reach his arms out, his eyes now fixated on the biscuits you held in your hand. 

“Oh,” You said as the baby basically launched himself into your arms. Remus chuckled and took the bag from your hand and you properly fixed your hold around Harry. “Hello, little one. I’m y/n.” His response came in a happy shriek followed by incoherent babbling, you smiled. “Well, it’s very much my pleasure to help you take care of Moony. Is he giving you a hard time?” You said and Remus let out a startled chuckle. 

His heart did a funny little dance when his family nickname came out of your lips. “Oi, stop talking about me like I’m not here.” He said, words taking a sweet quality. 

“Sorry, sorry,” You smiled up at him and he guided you towards the sitting room. “Well, isn’t this a cozy home?” Harry babbled excitedly, fisting your jumper. “Oh, you did this? You got good taste, Harry.”

Remus felt his heart bursting inside his chest, so he walked to the kitchen to put the kettle on, desperately trying to distract himself before he could lose all his strength to not walk up to you and kiss you silly. He smiled to himself as he listened to you whispering here and there to Harry. 

“Tea, dove?” He called out.

“Oh, sure.” You said, voice muffled as the toddler placed his hands on your cheeks. Remus felt like he was very much on the same wavelength. You laughed. “Is he always this touchy, or just his mood like you said?”

Remus walked in with two cups in his hands, “It’s usually the pretty girls that have him acting like this.” He laughed at you wrestling with baby Harry, who tried to bring your hair to his mouth. “I can hardly blame him–Harry, stop that.” He chided, placing them on the coffee table to reach over and take the baby from your lap. 

“It’s really okay, Remus.” You said, smiling up at him as you studied him with the baby in his arms. You very much wanted to kiss him, your heart still reeling from being called pretty. Twice. “He’s probably going to tire himself off soon, didn’t you say it’s past his bedtime?” You reached over for your cup, trying very hard to hide your blush.

“Yes, indeed it is.” Remus leveled Harry in front of him, the baby simply giggled and grabbed his face, very much like he did to you before. You laughed over the rim of your cup. “He just enjoys antagonizing me, don’t you, Harry? He’s very much like Sirius on that front.” 

“I’m sure he’ll crash out soon,” And as the words slipped past your lips, Harry paused his ministrations to Remus’ face to let out a big yawn. Both you and Remus smiled triumphantly. “See?” You whispered.  

“I’ll go put him down quickly.” Said Remus very quietly, lowering Harry to his chest, you nodded mutely, eyes in a daze as you admired them both. The domesticity of it all. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a second,” He looked down at Harry, then added, “Hopefully.”

You watched him climb up the stairs no doubt to Harry’s nursery and sighed deeply, eyes scanning the room with something akin to longing. The walls were filled with photographs in every space, all the way to the ceiling; most of them were solo shots of Harry, him laughing, crawling and one even bawling his eyes out, the image shaky as if the person taking it was debating between consoling the baby or capturing the moment. The rest you recognized from school, Lily and James and their first kiss after a match, you remembered that moment, then James and Sirius kissing mid-air, each on their broom, a scarlet crowd behind them, or them celebrating graduation day. The biggest one, though, was the one from their wedding, the one you vaguely remembered seeing one morning on the Daily Prophet. Lily looked beyond beautiful, her crimson, long hair in contrast with the white dress. James and Sirius both sported almost matching tuxedos, a lily of the valley arrangement for their boutonnières. The three with wide smiles that could be seen from earth, you were sure.

The photograph that caught your eye, though, was the one of Remus and Lily on the dance floor from her wedding day, a candid shot of them lost in the moment, laughing away despite the growing tensions. He looked very handsome as he twirled Lily around, you immediately noticed, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes rovered over the photo. You moved your head to look over to the next one, but a large hand covered it from you.

Remus laughed at your startled face. “Oh, don’t,” You blinked again, but recovered quickly and frowned at him. “What?”

“You think I was admiring you?” You asked, a surprised chuckle left his lips and you stopped fighting against your own smile. “I’ll have you know Lily immediately caught my eye, I see where ickle Harry got his looks from.” 

He walked over to stand next to you, both of you admiring the photographs in silence. “I’ll tell Sirius you said that, enjoy your time here cause I just know he won’t let you come in the future.” A giggle escaped you, startling him as he turned to you. He desperately wished to drown in the sound of your quiet, girly giggling. “Thank you for coming.” 

“No problem,” You smiled up at him, his eyes unconsciously fixating on a spot on the corner of your lips. “You’re so good with him, really patient, too.”

“Yeah, well,” He brought a hand to his nape, shy in his movements. “I had plenty of practice with James and Sirius.” His eyes softened as he looked back at you, the corner of his lips tugging slightly. “But again, all I needed to calm those down was to threaten them to burn their shared T. Rex autographed record, so…”

“I assume Harry doesn’t own a T. Rex autographed record for you to threaten, then?” 

“Well, no,” He conceded, following you back to sit on the couch. Really close, you noticed immediately with a smile on your face. “But he does have a Quidditch star as a babysitter so he might have some advantage there.”

You snorted. “Please tell me you did not just compare me to Marc Bolan.” 

Remus found himself scooting a bit closer to you under the pretense of grabbing his own cup, if you noticed, you didn’t show, but your smile was blinding. Your sudden closeness brought out a nervous, happy giggle out of you. You slid your finger around the rim of your cup, Remus’ eyes followed your movements in a daze. 

He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of the silence between you, “If James is to be believed, you might as well be the league’s very own Bolan,” You blinked, clearly not expecting that response from him. “And uh, well, I remember some matches from school too, you’re really good, dove.” 

“Remus…”

“What? It’s not like I’m lying, I’ve got people to back me up.” You shook your head, very much like you didn’t believe him. Remus suddenly had the desperate urge to knock some sense into you. “Oi, I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” You smiled at him, a tiny forced thing, like you were trying to convince yourself as well. “It’s just… Sometimes I feel like everyone makes me sound like this incredible player, when in reality I’m just…” You sighed, like finishing the sentence physically hurt you, you raised your hand to your lips. 

Remus decided to take a risk, and he reached over to take your hand from your lips before you could pick at your skin. Then, “Is it because of… of you being…”

“I’m not a werewolf, Remus.” You frowned, but you didn’t move your hand from his hold. However, Remus did flinch like your touch suddenly burnt him. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re… not? Then why…?”

You sighed, like this was a conversation you had been dreading. Remus supposed you did, he did too. Then, “The league, they… they said I had to attend the meetings or they would be forced to release a statement. And I don’t–”

“You don’t want people to assume you’re a werewolf?” Asked Remus, a slight edge to his voice that made you frown. “Are you ashamed?”

“What? No, I– Remus. I just don’t want people to know, okay? It’s not because I’m ashamed, or have some negative feelings towards werewolves or… or– Why do I have to explain myself to you, anyway?” You exhaled abruptly, then met his gaze. “Would you want people to know about your lycanthropy, Remus?”

“Absolutely not.” He said quickly, without thinking, too. 

People being aware of his condition had always been one of his deepest fears, one he carried throughout his school years and even after graduating Hogwarts; when tensions and rumors of a war started to surface, many people turning their backs on each other and ‘lesser’ creatures that didn’t fit the pureblood ideologies. He supposed it was a very valid fear, but having you asking him that question felt like a slap across his face. A wake up call of what he had been dreading since that meeting with the Order and Dumbledore laid down the conditions for him. 

“Then why would I want people to know about what happened with my family? So everyone in the Ministry can have their own ‘I knew it’ moment? I think werewolves already have enough on their plate for me to add more fuel to the fire.” You said between nervous sips of your tea, Remus’ own tea already being a sad, cold thing. “Especially when it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not a big– You almost died, y/n.” He said, desperate to make you see his point, a point Remus himself wasn’t sure what was. “How could you say it’s not a big deal?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? And I’m not about to turn my family into a sob story for the Daily Prophet just because I didn’t attend the bloody support group.” You sighed, and this time you reached over to take his hand. “Remus, I like you, okay? I truly do, but you need to stop seeing yourself like this lesser, undeserving person–”

“How could I not?” He snapped, making you frown deeper at his tone. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I just— How can you think that way about werewolves, so.. so benevolent, when we killed your family? Attacked you without reason?”

“Us? Without reason? They were sent to do it, none of the werewolves in Voldemort’s barracks had a say on anything. Yes, they might have had some reason or they probably were conditioned to think like the rest of them… But I don’t go around using my… my case to tell people all werewolves are the cruel monsters they’re painted to be. Not all of them anyway.” You searched for his eyes, hoping he would understand your point. When it was clear he wouldn’t meet your gaze, you dropped his hand in favor of holding his face. Remus’ lips parted in surprise. “You need to stop putting yourself under the same category as them. You’re not them, Remus. Neither are the people in our group. Greyback and their people… They’re the ones in the wrong, the ones that want to harm their fellows by feeding into the harmful stereotypes.”

Remus let out a breath, like he had been holding it for a long time, his eyes never once leaving yours as you both stared at each other, a promise in your gazes. Your eyebrows pinched slightly, and he had the sudden thought that maybe you weren’t done, or worse, had changed your mind mid rant. He shyly reached over to place his hand on the side of your head, long finger gently combing the baby hairs of your temple behind your ear. 

“I’m sorry…” He whispered, afraid that speaking up would scare you away from cradling his face in your hands. Remus thought he could get lost in your touch. “I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions, or get so… defensive.”

“I think… I think some defensiveness is alright.” You allowed, your features relaxing as you whispered back. “But it’s really alright, Remus. We must’ve had to have this conversation at some point, though now and with a baby quite literally sleeping above us wasn’t the scenario I had in mind.”

Remus took your attempt at a lighthearted joke as a sign to change the topic, “Have many scenarios with me, then, dove?” He asked with a tiny smirk, you dropped your hands from his face.

“You’re truly insufferable, Moon— Wait, is that why your friends call you Moony?”

His hand moved from your cheek to the nape of your neck, his thumb sweeping your baby hairs up and down in a way that brought goosebumps to your skin. Remus smiled like that had been his plan all along.

“Don’t call me Moony,” He said suddenly, and you blinked in surprise. He was quick to fix your train of thought, “Every time you call me Moony I really, really want to kiss you. If you do it again, I fear I won’t be able to hold back.”

This brought a shy smile to your face, but as quickly as it came, it turned into a smirk. “Terribly sorry, then, Moony.” 

He let out a startled laugh, and brought his other hand to your cheek, a silent permission to proceed with his intention. You, for your part, seemed in a daze as you breathlessly roved your eyes over his face, hands around the crook of his elbows as you scooted closer. Remus watched in awe as your eyes fixated on his lips with something akin to yearning, and self-restraint be damned, he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his lips over yours. 

Now it’s important to say he desperately made a plan of kissing you silly all night as soon as he tasted your lips and the faint notes of bergamot from your tea, he decided to never let go of you, to kiss you until the skin of your lips were the least of your concerns, had it not been by the door being opened wide open in a swift, loud motion. Sirius gasped dramatically at the sight before him, James and Lily in toe with similar reactions, you and Remus sprung away almost immediately at the commotion. 

“Oh– Moony!” He said, a hand to his chest as if he had been the one caught. “In my own home? In my own couch that I bought? How fucking dare you! I’m kicking you out, you ingrate.” 

“Hi.” You said shyly.

“I don’t even live here.” Remus said simultaneously. 

“Well, aren’t you the loveliest sight?” Said Lily as she walked to you, ignoring her husband’s antics. You stood up almost on reflex to accept her hug, your movements awkward. “How are you, honey?”

“I’m doing alright.” You said, your hand instantly finding a patch of skin to pick in your lips. Remus’ eyes followed the movement. 

“She ought to be alright, based on what we just walked into.” James pointed, walking to you both, Remus nudged him rather loudly. “Hi, James Potter, big fan.”

You smiled bemusedly and searched for Remus’ eyes. “I thought that was Lily?”

“Yeah, right, as if Lils could even differentiate a quaffle from a bludger.” Sirius joked, then stretched his hand out to you, as if you both hadn’t shared the majority of your classes at school. “Sirius.” 

You chuckled, grateful for the distraction to compose yourself. “I know.” You said, but shook his hand nonetheless. “But it’s nice seeing you lot again.” 

“And what brings you here this beautiful evening, y/n?” Lily asked, making herself comfortable on a wingback chair next to the couch. The blue color of the chair a high contrast to her green dress. 

Both James and Sirius seemed in a daze as they ogled Lily, you cleared your throat awkwardly, “Well, I…” You turned to Remus with wide eyes.

“She came here to help me with the menace that is your son.” Completed Remus, “Not that you wouldn’t know, seeing you made him that way.”

“Well, good for Harry,” Said Sirius as he draped himself over Lily, she accommodated herself to hug his middle. “Someone has to keep you on your toes.” 

“It really was no problem,” You interrupted, knowing well they could banter the entire night had none of you butted in. “He basically fell asleep after I got here.” 

“Oh?” James said, turning to Remus, who groaned and threw his head back. The bespectacled boy reached over Remus to address you, “You mean Remus or Harry?”

“So this git has been kissing you all night? Using my son as bait?” Sirius asked in faux indignation, though his fingers calmly toyed with Lily’s hair. “Remus you cheeky bastard.”

“Can everyone please stop attacking me?” 

“No can do, Moony. It’s hardly an attack when we’re telling the truth, you’re a real git and a pretty cheeky one too sometimes.” 

Remus looked at you imploringly, “Dove, need me to walk you home?”

“Add educated to the list, too.” Said Lily in between giggles. You smiled. “Maybe you’re not so bad, Remus, isn’t he, y/n?”

“He’s quite alright.” You said breezily, desperately trying to hide away the blush in your cheeks. You turned to Remus, “You don’t mind?” 

“Not at all.” He shook his head and walked to the door. Pointedly flipping his friends off. “Here,” 

You grabbed your coat from his hand. “Oh, thank you.”

“‘Not at all’ he says! When just the other day he properly groaned at me for asking if he could peel me an apple!” James said with a smile as he watched Remus help you bundle up for the cold. “You know, Pads, maybe he is an ingrate.” 

“I told you, but you never listen.” Supplied Sirius, both men offering you and Remus an out. 

Lily loosened her hold around Sirius to send you a tiny wave which you returned enthusiastically before stepping out the door. Had it not been that it was still reeling from your kiss, Remus’ heart would’ve probably combursted right then and there at your silly interactions with his own friends. He felt a really warm, sweet feeling settling in his chest when he realized you fit perfectly in their little family, eagerly following along in their banter against him. Remus hoped the sight would be something to last him for the rest of his life. 

—

The stress and uncertainty from the other night, a full moon, where you waited for Remus to let you know it had been alright and managed to return home without problem seemed difficult to wear off, the lingering anxiety settling in your body like it planned to stay there for a while. You tried to ignore the heavy feeling in the middle of your chest as you walked towards the pitch, hands distractedly fixing your gloves and gear as the coach threw pointers no doubt to the players already in the field. Calista, the team captain, immediately flew down to meet you on the floor as soon as she spotted you, her face pale and an alarmed look on her eyes. 

“Morning,” You said, watching her walk towards you with tentative steps, she seemed in a state of restlessness as her gaze traveled over your surroundings. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“I don’t know who talked to them,” She replied instead, and you frowned. When she realized you genuinely had no idea, she presented you with a rumpled page from the Daily Prophet. “I’m so sorry, I know you didn’t want people to know.” 

Your eyes skimmed hurriedly over the page, the knot in your stomach you had previously deemed a stomach ache turned into a full blown hollow feeling that consumed you whole. Calista reached to pat your shoulder consolingly, and it seemed that’s all you needed to shake you off your shock. 

“How could they—” 

“Well, isn’t this our lovely star,” Came a voice you recognized well, you turned to find Partridge herself walking over to you with a smirk on her face. “Is your furry little fella alright? Heard last night was quite the moon.”

“He’s not– What the fuck, Partridge?” You managed to say, your blood slowly boiled to the point of seeing red. It seemed that was the reaction your problematic teammate had been aiming for. “You did this?” You lifted the page to her eyes, by the look of her eyes you immediately knew she recognized it before you could present it to her. 

“I owed Skeeter a favor,” She shrugged, taking her gloves off nonchalantly. You did the same, but with completely different intentions. “What? Was it supposed to be a secret?”

“You knew damn well,” You spat, angrily throwing your gloves and the page away. Partridge’s facade changed as she studied your stance, but she recovered quickly. 

“Well, I thought you had stopped worrying about it, seeing that you so thoroughly enjoy associating yourself with the likes of your people and half-breed monsters in broad daylight.” 

You reeled back, as if she had actually punched you in the face but you schooled your face almost immediately. “Well, of course, I see you nearly everyday, don’t I?”

She marched to you in anger, but you stayed still in your place. “You little bitch, don’t think for a second you will keep your spot in the league after this. Why, you stupid mudblood.”

You laughed bitterly, “You think I’m scared of you, Partridge? Or losing my spot? Unlike you, I’m a bloody good player, any team will scout me as soon as I drop the Harpies.” With a sudden feeling of satisfaction, you noticed her clenching her fists. You added, “Also… Mudblood? Really? Wait– Is this why you’re so miffed with me? Because a muggleborn is a better Quidditch player than you? Well, you got another thing coming–”

You felt the sting before your eyes could even follow the movement of her hand, slapping you across the face with a strong hand. Calista gasped loud enough to catch the coach’s attention, she stepped forward to push Partridge away from you but you raised a hand. 

“You show me every day how pathetic you truly are. That’s all you got? Cause I’d really like to give you a real demonstration.” You smiled, a wicked thing that had your teammate leaning back with surprise and Calista swallowing anxiously. 

“Now let’s not–”

Well, you truly would’ve loved to say that had been the end of it, that the coach had reached you both in time to end the upcoming brawl. But none of that had happened, all thanks to your quick seeker reflexes and pent-up anger, you had Partridge on the floor in a quick second. She screamed but managed to throw punches as you, despite your ire-charged reaction, decided to only give her a scare. You had to give it to her, she had a rather appropriate right hook that you had the misfortune of intercepting while you were pulled away. Calista and the rest of the team paused as they studied you, you brought your hand to your left eye, feeling suddenly rather dizzy and a little nauseous. 

“What the devil is happening here?!” Yelled the coach as he inspected the outcome, grateful that you weren’t visibly injured, or well– “Partridge, did you just hit your teammate square in the bloody eye?! What’s the matter with you?” 

“She–She jumped at me! She’s mad!” Partridge pointed at you, you looked up to find her properly rumpled but not hurt at all. “She said she would give me a demonstration, then– then attacked me!” 

“Attacked you?! You hit me first!”

“That’s enough out of you,” The coach spat, turning to you to inspect your eye, he clicked his tongue pensively. “Need you to go to the healer to get this checked.”

“But–” 

“I’ll handle your teammate. Surely there’s an explanation to this circus.” He turned to Calista, who straightened her posture in very captain fashion. She nodded at you, a silent promise that she would make sure Partridge wouldn’t get out of it unscathed. “Go.”

You exhaled abruptly and grabbed your gloves from the floor, making way to the healer’s tiny cubicle to get your eye checked. As you walked out the pitch, you caught a glimpse of the page you sent flying mid brawl, a candid photo of you and Remus kissing one late night after the meeting, a few days ago. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach but now for completely different reasons. 

—

“And I still hear it, minutes before the transformation, sometimes I can feel him lingering close, even though he’s locked away!” Exclaimed McDougall, a thin man that had been a victim of the Imperius curse by Riddle himself. You frowned as you listened to his heart-felt rant, your eyes very pointedly trying to look everywhere but at Remus. “It’s driving me mad!” 

You watched in curiosity as Remus raised his hand. 

“Is there something you’d like to say, Mr. Lupin?” Asked the healer kindly, Remus nodded, then cleared his throat. “Go on, then.”

“Uh, this happens to me too.” He spoke out, voice scratchy like it hurt him to speak. You bit your lip anxiously. “What I do, uh, I like to play music, I’ve found that the wolf likes it during the transformation. It helps, sometimes, with the voices.” 

You studied him meticulously, taking inventory of his scars and the new ones he acquired the night before. His hand shook slightly where he rested it over his knee, the previous scars in his hands a faint red as if they had been reopened again, a bandage peeked out from his sleeve. His hair disheveled a little like he tried to comb it but gave up mid action, but other than that, he looked like the same Remus you had grown to adore. His amber eyes met yours as Healer Figg continued talking to the rest of the group, and he sent you a soft, tentative smile. You felt a tug at your heartstrings as you waved shyly at him, a tentative tiny thing. 

As soon as you left the healer’s office at the pitch and after you met with the coach, you made your way to your flat to assess the damage before it was time for the meeting. You had desperately tried multiple beautying spells and make up products to make the black bruise taking up most of your eye and temple so faint that it would pass right through Remus. Your efforts were to no avail, so you decided to get there a bit later than usual in order to avoid him questioning you about what had happened, or worse, you telling him about the article on the Daily Prophet. You weren’t sure which one you dreaded the most. 

“Thank you everyone for coming, again, it has been delightful to see the outcomes of the group, you all have progressed very much.” Healer Figgs said, pulling you out of your own head as she turned to you. “Let’s all extend our applause and say goodbye to our companion, y/n, who has successfully finished her time with us.” You looked away from Remus, who you felt staring right through your soul as you shyly smiled at the rest of the group. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled, laying back on your chair as if you wished to disappear against the wall. Everyone stood up, and you took that as your queue to finally leave. 

Your hand shook slightly as you opened the door of St. Mungo’s and caught a breath of fresh air. You dug inside your purse and brought a cigarette to your lips, somewhere behind you the door opened again and quick steps followed you. 

“What was that? Back there?” Remus breathed out, catching up to you. You looked down in order to hide your face from him with your hair, he frowned. “You’re done?” 

“Yeah, um, I was told today I filled my quota for the league.” You said quietly, Remus had to lean closer to hear you. “I was going to tell you–”

“When? Today? When you barely said hi to me the moment you got here?” 

You sighed dejectedly and brought the lighter to your lips. To your rotten luck, the flame lightened your face and gave Remus a very clear glimpse of your pathetic attempt at covering your marred skin. 

He inhaled sharply and gently grabbed your face in his hands, “What happened to you?” Your lips parted in surprise around the cigarette and met his worried gaze. His thumb swept over the skin and you hissed. “Sorry, sorry… Dove, who did this to you?”

“It’s nothing.” You said under your breath, shaky fingers plucking the cig out of your lips. “Really, Remus, it was just an accident.” 

“It certainly doesn’t look like nothing.” His eyes studied you, and you suddenly felt very insecure about your face. Stupid Partridge, you thought. “Are we keeping secrets now?”

“What? Remus, no.” You reached to grab his wrist with your free hand, your hold earnest and desperate as you looked into his eyes. “I just… I just didn’t want you to worry. That’s all.”

“Well, I ought to be worried,” He frowned, bringing your temple to his lips, where they lingered a beat too long as you both savored your hold on each other. 

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, “It was one of my teammates.” You finally said after a moment, Remus pulled back with a frown. “Did you read the Daily Prophet today?” 

“Ah,” He nodded, and grabbed the cigarette from your hand. You watched in awe as he pensively studied you, then, “I had an inkling it was about that.”

“You saw it?” 

“Of course I did, James dumped about 7 copies on me this morning, full moon be damned.” He said, you smiled despite your anxiety. Remus mirrored your tiny smile, happy that his efforts worked. “It doesn’t bother me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“But, she… she aired your condition to everyone.” You supplied quietly, a slight frown in your eyebrows that Remus wished to kiss away. “She called you a–” You seemed to work yourself up again, and he wondered what exactly went down to bring this kind of reaction out of you. 

“I don’t care, she doesn’t know a damn thing about me.” He said, and put out the cigarette in favor of holding your face again. “There was a time I would’ve cared, and would’ve tortured myself about that, but now it all slides right off. Dove, please don’t go around picking fights for me. Especially with people like her.”

You looked down, eyes fixated on a spot in his chest. Remus suddenly thought you looked very beautiful, a slight vulnerability to your demeanor that made you look angelic. He kissed your temple again, very softly to not hurt you, then searched for your gaze. 

“But that’s not everything, isn’t it?”

You met his gaze, and his heart ached at the glossiness in your eyes. His eyebrows pinched slightly, and watched as you curled your arms around his middle, your hold desperate for comfort. Remus sighed as you hid your face in the safety of the crock of his neck. 

“I tried really hard to protect them from… from people commenting on their story, how they died. I didn’t want them to become another fatality of the war, and–” To your horror, a tiny sob left your lips and you closed your eyes. Remus thumbed the tears in your cheeks away with very gentle movements, careful of your tender skin. “I couldn’t even do that. I keep just failing them day after day, the league pulling me back, getting into fights and proving everyone right all along. I… I don’t know what to do, the least I could do is be someone worthy for them and to honor them after they died because of me and–”

“Wait, no. They didn’t die because of you.” He frowned, and you seemed to have a hard time meeting his gaze, he curled a hand under your chin to look into your sad, teary eyes. “How could it be your fault? Dove, that man is at fault, he’s the one that killed them, he sent the order. There’s no way you would’ve known.”

“But… but I could’ve tried harder at protecting them. I should’ve done something.” You finally let out the thought that had been consuming you for months and kept you up at night. “How can people call me bright and promising in that stupid magazine… If they only knew how useless I was during the war.” You chuckled humorlessly. Remus decided he had enough of it.

“Listen to me, y/n. You being this incredible, promising witch and your parents’ deaths aren’t mutually exclusive. Voldemort targeted all the muggles and wizards that didn’t follow along his insane ideology, there was nothing you could do to stop that from happening, I know you don’t want to call it that but it truly was a tragedy… because no matter what you had tried to do, he sent his best men to kill you and your family knowing it would be one against four. It was meant to be a tragedy whatever the outcome. And your parents? They would've been so bloody proud of you for fighting the death eaters off, for surviving and fighting tooth and nail for your future that was almost ripped away from you. Don’t… don’t count yourself out just because of this, it might feel like it sometimes… but you’re not alone.”

You bit your lip, finally meeting his gaze. Remus exhaled deeply as he finished off his desperate rant, some fight still lingering inside of him to make you see his perspective. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally said, your finger sweeping back and forth where your hand held his wrist. Remus watched as you inhaled, channeling all your strength to compose yourself. “I… Thank you, Remus.” 

He smiled softly, “No need to be sorry, or to thank me. I would do this every day, pretty much like you would, too.” You blushed, and he found himself ignoring his self-control and leaned forward to kiss your lips. They tasted a tad salty, but not any less sweet. 

“They would’ve really liked you,” You said as you broke away, Remus’ smile got impossibly wider and grabbed the sides of your face to kiss you again. “Ouch.”

He gasped, “Oh, I’m so sorry.” He leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss just shy of your bruise. “Let’s go get you fixed up, hm?” He placed his arm around your shoulders, and you trailed next to him in a daze. Still slightly shaken up, Remus noticed; he tried another angle. “So, proved myself worthy to the in-laws already?”

You smiled sheepishly, “Don’t let it get to your head, though.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you rounded the corner, his flat building in view. 

Remus sighed happily as he dug inside the pocket of his jacket for his keys, his other arm head-set in holding you close to his side. You, for your part, seemed to enjoy his hold around you and walked next to him with a tiny, shy smile, your hand picking at the skin of your lips distractedly. 

“Here,” He helped you out your coat as you both walked in. You immediately took notice of the homely ambience to it, Remus’ taste all over the flat as your eyes rovered the room with curiosity. Remus’ heart did a little flip as he studied you, “Wait here, I’ll go check what potions I have for your eye.” 

You nodded then made a beeline to his couch, a worn out, lived in thing that matched with the decor in the walls. Just like the Potters’, he had countless photographs hung up on all the walls, evidence of his happiness despite the numerous trials he had suffered in the past. The biggest one, you noticed, was one of him holding Harry as a newborn, his amber eyes red and with some tears welling up, you felt a tug in your heart as you scanned it. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Said Remus with a breathy chuckle as he walked to you, a container and wet cloth in his hands. You laughed as you walked to him, “What is it with you and photographs?” 

You shrugged as you sat in front of him on the couch, Remus placed the container on his knee before gently pressing the warm cloth to your face, to remove your flakey concealer no doubt.

“I’m used to still images back home, seeing them move is something I don’t think I can get used to–Ow!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Remus placated, a slight frown to his eyebrows, he made his movements extra gentle to not hurt you again. “A very valid point.” He added, then placed the cloth down. “Ow, dovey, that was a hard punch, it seems.”

“You should’ve seen Partridge.” 

“You hit her?”

“Nah, just gave her a scare. Also gave her a proper demonstration on how it’s done, real muggle style.” He barked a laugh, and opened the container next. You scrunched up your nose at the smell. “That’s foul. Is the smell alone a punishment for getting into a fight?”

“Probably,” He hummed, eyes fixated on your bruise as he gently patted the cream potion on your skin. You felt your insides mushy and soft with gratefulness and something akin to love for him. “I stole this from Madam Pomfrey so I wouldn’t put it past her.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Using your Pomfrey privileges to steal supplies? Oh, Moony, you’re incorrigible.” Remus paused his ministrations to meet your eyes, you smirked playfully at him.

“You will have your kiss after I finish this, dove, do not fret.” He commented breezily, thoroughly enjoying the way you flushed. Remus chuckled as he finished putting the rest of the potion on your eye and kissed it softly, he grimaced, “Shit, that really is foul. Terribly sorry, dovey.”

You laughed. “It’s okay.” Remus placed the container and cloth away to fully face you, you smiled up at him with something giddy and excited in your chest. “So, where’s my–”

Remus smiled, a wide, bright smile that almost blinded you as he grabbed the nape of your neck and pressed his lips against yours. You laughed against his lips, your mood suddenly lifted now that you had what you wanted, Remus kissing you silly and holding onto you like you were about to fly away, and by the happy sigh that left your lips when you momentarily broke away, he wasn’t so far off. You shyly reached over and placed your hands tentatively around his middle, Remus, without breaking away, grabbed your arms and circled them around him, a permission to hold onto him as much as you wanted. You readily accepted the invitation, fisting his jumper with longing and deepened the kiss. 

“Not here,” Mumbled Remus between kisses, he helped you up and immediately pressed his lips against yours again, as if stopping kissing you could physically harm him. “Dove,” He said breathlessly as he pulled you to your feet, you let him manhandle you, a wicked smile on your lips as you pulled him back down to you. “Come on,” He held your hand and guided you down the hall, no doubt to his room, your insides suddenly recoiled with anxiety. 

You sighed as he kissed you again, his fingers toying with the hem of your jumper, you sucked in a breath and deepened the kiss again, hoping it would distract him from his intentioned hands in your middle, but to no avail, he unconsciously lifted the hem and placed his hands over the scarred skin around your waist, if what he found troubled him, he didn’t show, but you stilled and Remus pulled away slowly at your reaction.

“Dove?” He frowned slightly, and you willed your lungs to accept air as you breathed quietly, “Was I too harsh with you? I’m sorry,” His hands found your face again, and you met his gaze, his lips parted in surprise as he noticed the troubled look in your eyes. “What is it?”

“I just..” You sighed, biting your lip nervously. Your fingers grabbed the hem of your jumper, Remus’ eyes flashed with realization. “I haven’t been with anyone… after… you know.” 

“Oh,” He breathed out, scanning your face for regret, but you seemed mortified enough to even meet his eyes. “They don’t bother me, but if they do to you, I won’t touch them. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry,” You said under your breath, suddenly feeling like you wanted to cry. Why was your past so adamant to ruin your present? You thought bitterly. “I don’t know why I… I’m sorry,”

“Hey, it’s quite alright.” Remus leaned down to search for your eyes, he cupped your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, dove. It truly doesn’t bother me, as long as you’re comfortable.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” You said, holding onto him in the desperate selfish way he was starting to adore. “I just, I keep forgetting they’re… there and it always feels like a rude wake up call when I notice them.”

“I get it,” He nodded, and kissed your eyebrow. “Believe me, I do. Mine used to bother me too, not so long ago, but they’re part of me, of my story. Though they hurt like hell, I’ve eventually learned to accept them. It’s okay if you’re not ready to accept yours, lovely girl.”

You looked up at him, very overwhelmed with gratitude and love for him, you were sure your heart could explode soon. Remus seemed to notice it as he lifted an eyebrow in question, and kissed the corner of your lips after you gave him a short nod. When he pulled away and walked a few steps back from his bed to give you space, you were only mildly disappointed at the distance. 

“We don’t have to do anything, but you can stay over if you want. Have a cwtch, maybe?” He asked, offering a tiny olive branch that felt gigantic to you. You smiled and nodded eagerly, he mirrored your giddy reaction and brought your hand to his lips. 

Remus nodded and laughed when none of you made to move, “I don’t have…” You trailed off, and his face brightened. 

“Oh, no need to worry about that,” He smiled and walked to his drawers, excitedly shuffling some things inside, then lifted a black shirt out. “You like Bowie, don’t you?” 

You laughed and accepted the clothes he presented you, he placed a kiss to the crown of your head as you followed him to his bathroom. Your limbs suddenly felt rather heavy and exhausted as you changed your clothes into his, a ratty Bowie shirt and some boxers that looked awfully big on you. You tried to not stare at your reflection in the mirror as you changed, but had enough courage to inspect his healing work on your bruise. Small steps, you supposed. 

Remus felt his own heart falling out of his arse when he stepped out of his own bathroom, to find you sitting prettily on the edge of his bed, looking around his room and fighting against a yawn that tried to escape your lips. He was overwhelmed with tons of feelings as he walked to the bed and threw himself over it, pulling you down with him. The sound of your surprised giggles echoed around the room as he propped himself over his elbow, eyes full of love as he looked at you. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked quietly then, your finger tracing the letters of his own shirt. Remus held your hand captive and kissed your palm, then reached over and kissed you. “Remus,” You giggled as he placed sloppy kisses on your face, cautious of your eye. 

“Just happy, ‘s all.” He mumbled as he pulled you close to him, you happily accepted his hug. “I still can’t believe I went to that support group just to get signed off for a job, and not only left with a job but with the prettiest, smartest witch as my girlfriend.” Your chuckle came in a sleepy breath, eyes closed as you drowned in the sound of his voice. Remus didn’t mind, telling you all that was his own private indulgence. He placed a kiss on your forehead, “And she fights for my honor unprovoked, too.” He added. 

“Of course that’s the part you fixate on,” You mumbled, words quiet and slurred like you fought against sleep to speak out. 

Remus fought against his own drowsiness, “Oi, you think someone there caught a photo of that?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“It would be a very lovely addition to the wall.”

“Remus,”

“Well, I was just thinking, since you love photographs.”

“Goodnight, Remus.” 

—

Champagne flutes sat empty over the tables as the record on the turntable echoed faintly around the room, one of the records Lily picked halfway over. James and Sirius busied themselves picking up the trash and cleaning the remaining dishes respectively as Lily climbed down the stairs after putting Harry down to sleep in his nursery. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her, Remus and you passed out on her couch, clinging to each other. You still wore your Quidditch gear from the match earlier and Remus didn’t deign to change his Holyhead Harpies jumper neither, even after the match had been won and long over. 

“They’re asleep?“ Asked Sirius, and both his spouses shushed him immediately. 

“Yeah,” Lily nodded, then walked back to the kitchen to continue helping with the tidying. Her green eyes fell on the polaroids she left out to develop. “Oh, isn’t this adorable.” She gasped with a smile as she picked them up.

She walked back to the sitting room and stood in front of the wall, eyes searching for an empty spot for the new additions. James stood behind her, a frown to his eyebrows as he helped her out. 

“What about moving these, lovie? So they can fit here.” He pointed, Lily followed his eyes and nodded excitedly. “I hardly think ickle Harry would mind.” 

Lily lifted her wand and whispered a sticking charm to the new additions, a warm, happy feeling in her chest as she admired the final product. 

There stood two new photographs to the family wall, one of you winning the Major League match, your big smile as you lifted the Golden Snitch in the air and the crowd roared behind you; the other a candid photo of you Lily took that very same night, of you and Remus dancing and laughing, both of you sporting matching bright smiles as you celebrated the big win of the night. His arm placed firmly around your waist as he playfully dipped you low, and baby Harry clapping happily somewhere in the back of the shot, but the real star of the photograph was the glistening ring in your finger as you cupped Remus’ face, Hope Lupin’s very own engagement ring that was passed down as an heirloom to you.

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 7

Masterpost - Ao3

Danny’s on his morning run when he notices the buzzing in his pocket. He stops short, stepping off to the side of the path, so he’s not in anyone’s way. It’s odd, having a phone again. He’s long since buried his old phone in his backpack. It died weeks ago, and he doesn’t really see any point in trying to charge it, when it can’t fulfill it’s primary purpose. The new phone from Robin is clearly far more advanced. It’s weird, having to use a touch screen, and Danny really hasn’t fiddled with it much. He doesn’t really know who’s paying for the service, but he’d rather not test their patience with accidental charges. So he’s only messaged Robin, and only to respond, on the few occasions Robin has had follow-up questions. Now, he pulls the phone out of his pocket, wondering what Robin needs, but instead of a contact name, the text notification lists a number. 

Someone else is trying to call him.

Danny stares at the notification, fear condensing in the fathomless pit of his stomach. He’d known the phone was a risk when Robin had handed it to him. Had understood from the start that it was also a tool to track Danny. But there had been no reasonable way out of it; if Robin was going to make Danny exist, then he had to be able to contact him, for questions, or to let him know when his ID was ready. Sure, Superboy can listen for Danny’s voice, but he can’t exactly message Danny back without coming to meet him, and Robin undoubtedly doesn’t want to have to go through Superboy to talk to him anyways. So he’d accepted the phone, and he’d been careful not to go anywhere weird. 

What Danny hadn’t considered, is the notion that Robin might give the number to others. Or, worse, that others might be able to find it (a trail is a trail is a trail). Now, here’s the clear evidence otherwise. Alarms flare in Danny’s head as he reconsiders, counting all the ways in which this whole thing was a terrible idea. He doesn’t have friends to help him here. He doesn’t even have Vlad to fall back on. Anonymity was quite literally his only protection and he threw that away for, what, the chance that he might be able to go to space camp?

Something touches his arm, and Danny leaps back, weight falling onto his back foot and arms coming up as he glares at the person in front of him. But when he pauses to process, the only person in front of him is an old lady who he’s seen around plenty of times before. Great. This is a public space, and there’s other people here, and he just acted like he was gonna fight an old lady.

“I’m so sorry!” Danny exclaims, snapping his arms down. “I just-” Danny fumbles for a moment, trying to think of an explanation that doesn’t sound like an excuse.

“Oh, there is absolutely nothing to apologize for, dear.” The lady says with a smile, even as she takes a half step back. “I touched you without warning; your response to that is your own. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh...” Danny says. “Okay?” He frowns, trying to remember if he stumbled or something before he stopped. 

“Well, you looked at your phone and I thought you looked upset. So when you didn’t move after a minute, I thought you might have... well, I’ve seen that kind of reaction before, and it tends to not mean anything good.”

“Oh, that’s, um. That’s very nice of you.”

“Nothing of it dear! Now, I don’t want to pry into your business, but if you need an ear, or a hug, or just someone to sit with you for a moment...” She trails off. Danny blinks, and glances back at his phone.

“Um, I think- it’s fine. I probably need to go deal with this, but it’s nothing worth worrying about.” He plasters his best smile on as he says the last bit, and resolutely ignores the way her frown only deepens. “But I really appreciate the offer! I mean, really!” Danny takes one, then two steps back, then turns towards the entrance to the park, and sets off at a jog, calculating in his head.

It’s been about five minutes since his phone buzzed. Nothing’s happened yet, which means whatever situation probably isn’t hostile yet, so Danny presumably has some amount of time. And the first priority has to be keeping this poor town out of it, so the first thing he needs to do is get out of the town.

Luckily, Danny’s had a map of the best transformation spots building in his head since day one, so it’s a simple matter of running to the closest one, shifting, and then taking off under the cover of his invisibility. Once he gets some height, he starts scanning his surroundings for any odd activity, but everything in the town seems normal, so Danny refocuses, looking instead for a safe spot to deal with...whoever is after him now.

Five minutes later, Danny drops down onto an empty, overgrown lot, well away from anyone. The second his feet hit the ground, he looks down at the phone still in his hand. The unknown number is still there, staring him down from the notification screen. Danny takes a deep breath, and he swipes the phone open and begins to read.

Hey! I talked Robin into giving me your number so we could chat more easily! (it’s Superboy in case that isn’t clear)

Danny stares at the message, the dread in his stomach promptly evaporating, until all that’s left is a dense little nugget of embarrassment. Superboy. Who Danny knows and has talked to, and had been very friendly, and absolutely would have asked his friend Robin for Danny’s number. Because they’re at least sort-of-friends and that’s what friends do. They share their phone numbers and then send each other messages. And Danny reacted to a stupid message by panicking and fleeing the entire town like his phone was a bomb that he had to defuse in a desolate-ass field across from a shitty abandoned truck stop along an equally abandoned highway.

At least Superboy’s not here to see Danny look like a loser.

Hey! He quickly writes back. That’s a great idea, I’ll add you to my contacts :D

Danny hits send, then immediately takes off, heading back towards town. Maybe if he’s quick enough, nobody will catch that he left.

It’s kind of funny, in a way. Like, yeah Superboy had been acting friendly towards him from the beginning, but he hadn’t really thought about the other boy as being a potential friend or anything. There’s a part of him that feels guilty about it - that aches with the thought that he could be sending Superboy all the messages he would have sent to Sam and Tucker. He knows they’d call him an idiot if they could hear those thoughts, but the uncomfortable feeling doesn’t seem overly concerned with Danny’s attempts at rational thought.

He wishes they had come with him, even as he knows how unfair it would’ve been to ask. Their bond may be strong as hell (turns out half-dying in front of your friends makes for an unbreakable friendship), but his friends have families that love and care about them. Meanwhile, Danny’s family had always been a catastrophic mess. He’d always tried not to let himself think about it, but here in a different dimension, it’s easy to admit to himself how much it hurt to have his parents not realize he’d died.

They’d never even questioned it, not sought out a single further answer as to how the portal suddenly started working. Danny had spent weeks, falling through furniture and randomly going invisible, had suddenly started being targeted by their shitty home defense systems, and they’d never fucking noticed, because they’d been too excited that their beloved portal was finally working and now they could dig into their obsession all the more.

In retrospect, they should have realized Danny’s parents were ecto-contaminated far sooner. Even Box Ghost wasn’t that much of a freak for boxes.

“It’s fucking dumb,” Danny mutters, dropping down into an alley and transforming. “Fucking dead, and it’s a relief that they didn’t notice, because if my parents noticed anything about me, they’d only make my life fucking worse!” He punctuates the statement by kicking a half-crushed can as hard as he can, sending it flying directly at the wall. The clang echoes in the tight little alleyway, and again as it clatters to a stop a few feet away. He stands there, staring at the can for a moment, thinking about just letting himself cry. He imagines what would happen if he just collapsed onto the ground and started sobbing and never got up. It’s not like he has any responsibilities to get to, after all. Or, if he wanted, he could march back to the park and tell that nice lady that he’s not fine, and demand that hug she’d offered him. He’d feel dumb as hell, and it wouldn’t actually change anything, but he could.

He stoops down to pick up the can. Sam would want him to go recycle it. Superboy responds to his text with a goofy midair selfie.

* * *

Danny does not want to be doing math right now, so when his phone buzzes, he jumps at the opportunity to do literally anything else. Danny’s determined to do well in school this time around, and he’s willing to work for it, but trying to review and relearn everything  he should have over the last couple years sucks. Luckily he’s found some useful resources that he can refer back to when he inevitably discovers something else he should have learned, but preparedness is definitely better than playing catch-up. He’s only going to have two years worth of  high school grades, so each class is worth a lot more. Thinking about that, Danny kind of gets why Robin had offered to falsify his grades. He could only imagine how Jazz would’ve felt if her perfect GPA had been erased in Junior year.

But to Danny, the clean slate is already a boon. He’d quite literally scraped his way out of summer school by half of a percent this last year, and even though Junior Year had barely been underway when he’d fled, his grades had already been beyond recovery. And with no ghost attacks to contend with, Danny’s determined to prove he can get to college of his own accord.

Guess what! :D The message from Superboy says, when he opens it. It’s accompanied by a selfie, though it’s not taken in any of the rooms Danny’s seen in the many photos Superboy’s sent him.

Titan Tower’s been demolished and you’re all staying in Robin’s place for a week? Danny sends back immediately. He hopes that’s not actually the case, but Superboy’s always delighted whenever Danny sends him a snarky response, so he swallows the needle of anxiety. They’ve been texting for less than a week, but in that time, Superboy’s sent Danny dozens and dozens of messages. Solidly half of them are just random selfies, and the number that appear to be from inside their hero base has got to be some kind of a security problem, but Danny’s not about to challenge Superboy on it. It’s too reassuring, seeing the headquarters the teen heroes work from. Every selfie reveals more of the comfortable, spacious, and well-equipped base, and with every reveal, Danny feels a little more certain that they really aren’t being exploited.

Nope, comes the response. Then, a moment later, I’m at your new home! This is accompanied by another selfie, this one with an absolutely gorgeous framed print of the pillars of creation in the background. Danny straightens in his seat, as he stares at the message. He’d given Robin carte blanche when it came to furnishing his apartment. At the time  of their conversation, he’d been overwhelmed and didn’t want to think about anything like furniture, but now that he’s had time to think he’s been feeling a little regret about it. Danny’s used to living with stuff that other people have picked out, and the idea of having control over his furniture actually does seem like it could be cool. Still, he hadn’t felt strongly enough to say anything, afraid to risk disrupting whatever work Robin had already done. Besides, he’d assumed Robin would just give him the are minimum, and he could add stuff later, when he finally had the money.

Danny’s caught between desperate gratitude and guilt. The print in the photo is beautiful, and exactly the kind of thing Danny might have chosen, but he also knows how much quality prints like that cost. He hadn’t thought about it before, but furniture has got to be expensive too, even if it’s just the bare minimum. 

You still there, dude? Another text comes in and Danny moves to reply with shaking hands.

How much money are you guys spending on me?

The response isn’t immediate. Danny tries not to panic, but he can tell he’s going to fail. Instead, he shoves his stuff into his backpack as quickly as he can, holding his breath, because he absolutely can’t be trusted to stay quiet right now. He’s walking out the door to the library, when his phone finally buzzes again.

Okay so I sort of had to ask Robin why you would be worried about that, so like, sorry for the delay. There’s like a lot of gaps in my social knowledge? And I’ve never really had any control over what ppl do or don’t give me, so like. I didn’t realize that would upset you and I’m sorry? But also Robin literally said “not much, only a couple thousand” which is to say that I’m pretty sure he’s actually super rich and furnishing a home is literally peanuts to him.

Danny reads it, and then he reads it again, forcing himself to take deep breaths as he moves out of the doorway. Once he’s well away from anyone’s walking path, he lets himself collapse against the wall, sliding down until he’s curled up against the corner of the ground and wall.

It’s fine.

It’s gotta be fine. There is literally nothing in either of their behavior that has seemed even remotely cruel, and if Danny’s reading between the lines right, then Robin does this sort of thing to other people too, so it’s not even remotely about Danny. He doesn’t feel good about it, but logically it isn’t the level of problem that Danny is worried about. Danny can deal with the gross feelings. He can’t afford to do anything else, really.

After all, how the hell was gonna buy a bed? He has less than a hundred dollars to his name. Maybe he could afford it if he sold off the jewelry, but he absolutely couldn’t furnish a whole apartment. Besides, he literally asked for this. If he’s too stupid to realize the implications of asking for his apartment to be furnished, then that’s fully on him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, half on instinct, but really, what is ignoring Superboy going to accomplish?

Are you good? Do I need to find you? I haven’t gotten the hang of tracking heartbeats like Superman, but I can try? I like being your friend, please don’t let me fuck this up

Danny starts typing out a response. Deletes it. Tries again. He tries to lie and say he feels fine, but it just reminds him of the old lady’s expression the other day, and how she’d seemed more upset when he tried to brush his problems off. He takes another deep breath and tries to remember Jazz. They’d mostly avoided talking about Vlad. The whole thing was just so shitty and neither of them had the power to actually do anything, so they’d mostly pretended he didn’t exist, and Danny had done his best to play off the worst of his behavior. There had been one time, though. When Jazz had come home, upset about some conflict with a friend, and she had turned on him about it, lecturing him about boundaries and how important it is to tell people if you feel uncomfortable. She hadn’t explicitly said Vlad’s name but, well, who else could she have been talking about? So Danny forcibly gulps air down, and he tries to explain.

I’m not mad at you? Danny writes. I just - have a history with, like, gifts, and the idea of anyone spending much money on me makes me feel gross. Like in a ‘how is this gonna be held over me’ sort of way, y’know? He has to back up and rephrase a couple times, but eventually he feels like his response makes sense, so he hits send.

Crisis somewhat quelled, Danny gulps down another breath, and pushes himself back to his feet. There’s a mom nearby staring at him, though her kid seems focused on the book in their hands, so he mutters sorry, and starts heading down the street. 

Oh. Yeah, I think I get that. Superboy’s response is quicker this time. Can I, like, tell that to Robin? He might have an idea of how to make it not-a-gift?

Sure, Danny responds. I think I’m gonna go for a run, so if I don’t respond, don’t stress out.

* * *

When Danny finishes his run, he’s got a picture from Superboy of an absolutely adorable dog, and one single message from Robin that reads Don’t worry. Meet us at Emery Park at 5. We can discuss the logistics of it then. Robin’s absolutely tragic reassurance doesn’t really make him feel better, but it is sort of amusingly Robin-like, so at least there’s that. Danny has no intentions of trying to study now though, so instead he just wanders the park for a while, before slipping off to transform. When he comes back in his ghost form, he feels incredibly conspicuous and pretty much everyone seems to notice him. Mostly they just smile and nod in his direction, but one person actually comes up to him.

“Hey, uh. My sister was one of the people you saved last month, so like, thank you. She means a lot to me, and I don’t know what I would have done if she’d-” They cut themselves off with a choked noise, and they absolutely look like they’re about to start crying. Danny gets it; he knows full well what happened in the world where something happened to his sister, but he also has no idea how to reassure them.

“I’m very glad I was able to help,” Danny tries. “Um, how is your sister?” Good, that’s how to be empathetic, right?

“Ah, well you know. The smoke inhalation had her laid up for a bit, but honestly I think she was more upset about losing her home, you know? But she’s staying with me for now, so we’ll figure things out.”

“That’s good,” Danny nods. They’re not wrong; losing your home sucks. But this random person absolutely does not need to be subjected to Danny’s long list of misfortune. Luckily they take their leave after that, though whether it’s a result of Danny’s expression or their own emotions, he’s not sure.

Nobody else approaches him in the time it takes for Superboy to flip over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Superboy says, grinning as he lands in front of Danny. “Whatchu been up to?”

“Not much,” Danny says. “It’s really not been a productive day.”

“Shit, sorry.” Superboy winces.

“Nah, even before that, I was trying to review math, so like. Focus has been majorly my enemy, you know?”

“Ready to start school, then?” Robin asks from where he’s walked up to stand by Danny.

“Eh, probably not ever gonna be, so it might as well happen.”

“Right, well everything is ready, so if you’d like to adjourn to the apartment to discuss specifics?” Danny nods, and follows as they head off again.

Instead of walking, Robin pulls out a literal zip-line, and they quite literally take to the rooftops, all the way to a nice-looking brick building, not far from the center of town. Danny would wager that it’s within a ten minute walk of the library and the nearest grocery store, which is pretty sweet. Danny can even see little balconies along the front, as they approach which is pretty cool. so he might even get a view. Instead of heading to the front of the building, Robin drops down to street level, and Danny finds himself in a little parking garage when he follows.

“We’re less likely to get spotted this way,” Robin explains as he walks through the parking lot. “I’ll erase the security footage of us, but the less people know we came here, the safer your identity is.”

“Makes sense,” Danny says. “I can, um, make you guys invisible, but I’d have to be touching you to do it.”

“By all means.” Robin says, staring Danny down.

“Cool, um,” Danny glances over at Superboy, who nods, so he reaches out to grip their wrists carefully, and lets his invisibility wash over all three of them. He lets Robin lead them through the door, and up three flights of stairs. He stops in front of a door labelled 305, and a moment later, the door is open and the three of them are stepping inside. Danny drops his grip on them as the door closes, taking in the room around him.

Danny’s half-formulated fear of some fancy, swagged-out apartment that constantly reminds him of Robin’s generosity seems ridiculous in the face of the cozy, simply appointed living space in front of him. Instead of a table, there’s a small bar area built into the kitchen with a couple of comfortable-looking stools, and the couch in the living room looks comfortably worn, so Robin must have gotten it secondhand. The decorations aren’t extravagant either. The framed print Danny had seen earlier sits proudly on the wall behind the couch, but aside from that there’s only a couple minor decorations, and a lamp.

He turns to look back at Robin, who immediately steps forward and holds up a key ring.

“This key gets you into the building, this one is to your apartment, and this one is to your mailbox. There’s also a bike room in the parking garage we walked through. That’s what this last key is for, though I would advise still using a bike lock if you decide to get one.” He holds it out, after he finishes, and Danny nods, trying to commit each key to memory. After a moment, Robin continues.

“Your lease is in the folder on the counter, along with your personal documentation and a couple other things. As far as the funding of this is concerned, I took the slight liberty of forward-funding this with your theoretical payout for the assistance you provided during the train crash last month. So, if and when you decide to legally declare your hero identity, I’ll back-file the paperwork for that.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He looks around the room again, and then back at Robin. The internet had been entirely unclear if Robin had any powers, but Danny’s decided he’s got to be psychic. There’s no other way he could have planned this all out so perfectly. “Okay, that’s, um. That definitely works for me. Thank you so much.”

“You’ve gotta see your bedroom, though!” Superboy explains, grabbing Danny’s hand and pulling him down the hallway, and through the last door.

The bedroom that greets him is similarly balanced as the living area. The comforter alone makes Danny pause. As long as he can remember, he’d always secretly wanted a space-themed comforter, but he’d only ever seen the goofy ones made for little kids, but this comforter is decorated with an absolutely gorgeous cover; the star-spattered blue-black of outer space giving way at the bottom edge to a view of the earth itself, atmosphere pale against the onslaught of space. It’s gorgeous, and doesn’t make Danny feel childish at all. The wall behind the headboard is similarly impressive, with what has to be a composite print of high quality images of every major body in the galaxy, from the sun itself to the dwarf planet Pluto (Danny hadn’t been certain how to feel about that particular difference in classification when he’d first arrived, but he’s come around to it by now).

“Do you like it?” Superboy asks.

“It’s amazing,” Danny says. Stepping forward and falling onto his new bed. “I actually can’t believe this is all mine.”

“Your name’s the one on the lease,” Robin says. “Although please do let me know if you have a hard time making payments. I’m more than happy to assist, and if you need to make it a loan to feel comfortable, we work that out.”

“Yeah, okay.” Danny says, looking around the space again. He feels a lot less anxious just being in this space. Vlad would never have done anything like this. If he’d ever been inclined to get Danny an apartment, there would have been reminders of him everywhere. It’s not even like the kind of unwanted stuff Sam would throw at him and Tucker. This whole apartment really feels like it’s meant to be his.

“There’s also the beginnings of a wardrobe in the closet. Not much since I wasn’t certain of style preferences, but a few basics and a couple nice shirts for any job interviews and the like.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He really should think of better responses to what Robin says, but he keeps saying things Danny hadn’t even considered.

“Similarly, there’s some food essentials in the kitchen. We can always take anything you dislike to a food bank.” Robin continues, unhindered. “And the secondary bedroom is currently set up to be an office. Since you’re doing the school from home option, I decided it was worthwhile to set up a separate space for you to do that from. Separating work and relaxation spaces can go a long way to not going insane.”

“Oh.” Danny feels like a broken record.

“Furthermore, to head off any concerns, the laptop is one of my old ones that was sitting unused in storage. The planner, however, is new, and it is a gift.” Robin says, his mouth turning up into a slight smile. Keeping track of what you have to do is the most difficult part of online school, and the planner should help with that. Just don’t get caught up in trying to use it the right way. Whatever works best for you is the correct way.”

“Damn dude,” Superboy says, staring at his friend. “How are you gonna go and make school sound like it’s kinda fun?”

“If you’re interested, I could get you signed up as well.” Robin’s response comes immediately. 

“We should order pizza,” Danny says, flopping onto the couch. “Gotta hang out now before I get too busy with school.”